#and it’d be cool but a few days ago my mum brought up how i’m getting fatter and I CAN FUCKING SEE It and now i’ve become more self aware i

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 6: That I Would Be Good

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

When Peter woke up, it was horribly bright. His eyes opened a sliver only to be immediately squeezed shut with a groan, a sensory overload surely on its way as the harsh yellow light broke through even his tightly shut eyes. He could already feel the migraine, but the teenager pushed it down as the memories of what had happened flooded back.

The ferry. Mr. Stark. The suit. The men in the alley. And then...darkness. And now wherever he was right now he guessed. After a few moments, Peter managed to crack his eyes open again, surprised a little by the room he was in, not that he'd expected much to be honest.

Peter himself was chained to a pillar, his arms cuffed around it uncomfortably while metal ropes twisted around him at least five times over. His entire body was stiff, leaving him to think he'd been stuck in this position for at least a few hours. What time was it? Had anyone noticed he was missing? Peter blinked emptily, very much doubting it. Nobody at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys would be expecting him home until late, and it wasn't like Mr. Stark was going to be looking for him.

The teenager took a deep, rattled breath, pushing the regret to the back of his mind and observing the rest of his situation instead.

The yellow lights in the room were horrible bright, allowing for Peter's shadow to loom out in front of him in a stark contrast to the light concrete ground. He forced himself to turn away from it, instead trying to find a means of escape. There were no windows in the small room that he would peg as a larger storage room, though there wasn't really anything to store. There were a few plastic shelves that had wheels on the end, but, save for a couple of blankets and a pillow, there was nothing resting on them. The only other things in the room were a metal door, a stained bucket, a few stools, and a blinking camera.

Peter turned to glare at it directly, watching it warily as the light on it blinked red. Who was behind that camera? It had to be the vulture guy, right? He'd recognized one of the men that had come to grab him, and they had alien weapons, so. Yeah, Peter may have gotten in a little over his head.

"Hello?" he called, shouldering the ropes wrapped around him. They didn't give, just rubbing against the hoodie that still smelled of Mr. Stark. He tried desperately to block it out. "Hey! What the hell's going on!?"

There was, of course, no answer, so he slumped against the pillar, grimacing at the hunger gnawing at his stomach. He wished desperately that he knew what time it was. Then again, he guessed it didn't really matter. His grounding had already been extended, and what was a few more missed meals? It surely didn't feel like it really mattered anymore.

It was a few minutes before anyone came by. Peter was straining against the chains, struggling to get some kind of hold in his awkward position, when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. He paused in his efforts, stilling to stare at the door as it opened and a wrinkled man stepped through. It took him a moment, but he was quick to realize that it had been the man on the ferry.

This must be the vulture guy.

The door boomed to a slow shut behind the man, who grabbed one of the stools and sat atop it, regarding Peter easily. There was a minute of tense silence before anyone spoke.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Peter," the man started. Peter scowled. Great. Of course the man knew his name. "But you're bad for business, and so is your little shadow right there, so you'll be staying with us for the time being."

Peter blinked, trying to hide his surprise as he glanced down at the shadow he'd been avoiding. The vulture guy knew Mr. Stark was his soulmate?

"What is this? A ransom? Because he won't pay."

The man huffed sarcastically, shaking his head. "You two seem close." Peter bristled at the mockery in the man's voice. "But, no, I'm not going to ransom you for money. You'll be a nice and easy distraction while we take what we want."

Peter stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid you aren't cleared to know that," the man said, standing up. "The light will stay on while you're here, in case you give Stark any flashes. The only way out is through this door, which has a second electric door on it that will reactivate once I leave. If you stay nice for this first day, or if you somehow manage to do it yourself, you'll be let out of the chains and brought meals on the regular. Understand?"

"How long do you think you're going to keep me here?"

"Just a few days. You will miss your Homecoming, though, I'm afraid."

"How did you find me?" Peter demanded. The man gave him a threatening smile.

"All we had to do was follow your shadow."

And then he was out the door. Peter was left alone in the overly bright room. Just him, his shadow, and the clinking chains.

He knocked his head against the pillar, closing his eyes shut with a regretful sigh.

  ---

After a few hours of rest, Peter managed to wrestle out of his ropes. First he snapped the handcuffs holding him against the pillar, flinching as the metal cut into his skin, and then tearing through the last of the binds restraining the rest of him. As the man had promised, no one came for him after he'd freed himself from the ropes, leaving the boy to his own devices. So he'd gone on to try and figure a plan of escape. These men were planning something, scheming to trick Mr. Stark, and they were going to use him to do it. And Peter wasn't going to let them.

That had been two days ago.

With a tired sigh, the teenager knocked his head against the stone wall for the millionth time that day, staring up at the camera and wishing desperately there was at least something for him to do. He'd even take a coloring book at this point. With those dumb twisty Crayola pencils. Anything was better than just sitting here and wondering.

Wondering what was happening. Wondering how people were reacting to his disappearing. Wondering if Mr. Stark had heard, or if he'd cared. And, of course, pondering the 'What if?'

What if Peter hadn't gone after the vulture guy? What if he'd listened to Mr. Stark? What if he'd done better and been able to take the man down without messing up? Would he be a good soulmate then? One worthy of Mr. Stark?

There were no answers to his questions. Not one. There were speculations and dreams and nightmares that had shocked him awake the few times he'd been able to catch slivers of sleep in this place, but there were no concrete answers. Maybe there never would be.

"Forever."

Peter shook himself vehemently, turning away from the camera to stare at the door instead. At least the meal times here were consistent, more that with Mr. Fowler, though with the same boring peanut butter sandwiches for every meal. In all honestly, if the teenager had been given something to entertain himself with, or the lights were at least dimmed for when he needed to sleep, he'd consider this place better than the group home. Yes, he was aware of how horrible that was, but anything was better than the musty odor of liquor and the sharp tug of a hand, fingernails biting.

Teeming with unbearably restless energy, Peter pushed himself to his feet, walking around the small room in laps, trying once more to find anything to get out of here. A loose nail, a crowbar, something cool that an alien weapons dealer might have left in their storage room, but, like the first thousand times, there was nothing for the teenager to grab. There was the bucket for him to relieve himself in, the couple of empty storage shelves (he'd placed the left over blanket and pillow on the top of one, feeling much safer to be at least out of temporary reach should anyone come into the room to try and grab him), and the stools. There was, also, the camera, but that had made out to be very off limits since day one.

He'd crawled up the wall towards it and the light had immediately flashed red, a warning buzzer screeching through the storage closet. With a shiver up his spine, Peter had dropped from the wall, clutching at his ears desperately. The light had turned yellow once more and the room had been returned to that horrible, thick silence.

And it had been like that since.

And today it changed.

The hairs on his arms raised, forcing Peter to sit up from where he was laying against the wired shelf. He glanced at the camera warily but, a few seconds later, the door buzzed and then opened. There were three men. Vulture guy, shocky-gauntlet dude, and the other man that had been in the alley when Peter had been taken. They all had weapons.

Vulture guy was the calmest of the three, horrifyingly easygoing as he stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Peter lazily. The teenager eyed the gun strapped to his belt.

"Get down here, Pedro. You've got work to do."

Peter stared at the man. The man stared at Peter.

"What kind of work?" he asked hesitantly, keeping his expression painfully schooled, though he wasn't sure it'd worked.

"Just a bit of good ol' fashioned negotiation."

"I already told you he wouldn't pay a ransom."

"Money's not what we're looking for, kid," the man said. He gestured to the gun strapped to his hip. "Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You choose."

"What are you? A cop?" Peter muttered, but he jumped down from the shelf anyway, keeping his head up in an attempt to avoid his shadow. The man smiled, clearly amused by his joke.

"I've got the cuffs to prove it," he joked, pulling the thick metal cuffs out. They weren't regular cuffs, like the ones that he'd snapped out of a few days ago, but instead thick ones that would coat all the way up to his wrists. They were held out, open, in front of him expectantly. "Putter' there, kid."

With a low exhale, Peter placed his hands in the cuffs, resisting a flinch when they clamped shut. The man just smiled on him, a condescending pat on his shoulder. He couldn't help the flinch.

"Great. Let's get going."

Peter followed the man out of the room he'd been trapped in, his hands stuck together in front of him and his head forced up away from the glare of his shadow. The teenager finally took in the building he'd been kept in for the past two days, eyes narrowing as he tried to remember every single detail, but it wasn't some sort of maze like he'd been expecting. It was just--a warehouse. An empty warehouse, a few loose pieces of furniture and knick-knacks scattered on the cement floors.

It wasn't very long before they stepped through one last hallway, ending in an open room. It was as dim as everything else had been, shadowed pillars holding up the ceiling. For some reason, his hairs raised and his spine shivered. He halted to a suspicious stop, staring at the vulture guy for a moment before turning to stare at the rest of the room. Something in here was wrong. Very, very, wrong.

The man with the shocker knocked against his shoulder, pushing Peter forward. With a hesitant shiver, the teenager followed after the man, examining every inch of the room he could see.

They stopped in the dead center of the room beside one the pillars. A pile of chains sat on the ground next to it. Peter stared at it for a moment, brows furrowing, before turning to look back up. His eyes caught onto a timer on the wall, sitting idle at thirty minutes but not yet counting down.

The clinking of chains caught Peter's attention, and he turned to see the shocker guy and the other men grabbing the metal and staring up at him expectantly. He glanced between them and the timer, his eyebrows raised. The vulture smiled.

"It'll all be explained later," he said. Then he shrugged. "Or maybe it won't. I don't really care either way. Now sit down."

Peter glanced at the pillar, the men with the surrounding chains, his cuffed hands, and, finally, at his shadow. His gaze rested there for a tired moment, at where he'd been refusing to look at for days. At the sharp cut of Mr. Stark's chin and the hair that was always spiked up in a constant swoop. He was grateful that shadows didn't have eyes, saving him from the man's disappointed stare.

But the shadow wouldn't save him from the men here, so Peter would have to. He'd have to at least try.

"Yep. I will definitely do that now," Peter said, moving over to the men.

He allowed for the shocker gauntlet guy to move just a little closer, and then he struck. With metal encased fists, the teenager lashed out, landing a harsh punch to the man's face and following it with a kick that launched him halfway across the room. There was panicked shouts as he whirled back around, ducking low as a bullet fired, lodging in the pillar behind him.

He rolled as he ducked, using the force of his weight to slam into the other man's legs, who consequently tumbled to the ground. Peter rolled fast enough to carry past the man as he fell, springing back up onto his feet clumsily. He ran, ducking behind a pillar as gunshots rang, the men picking themselves back up.

The teenager twisted, searching for an escape. There was a door to his right, about halfway across the room. A few pillars stood between him and his best shot at freedom, just enough for him to dive and grab some cover, but it would be risky. Peter glanced at his shadow.

He ran.

He only made it past two pillars when his senses spiked. He dropped into a crouch on instinct, flinching as the pillar beside was slashed, a slice of beating wind rushing over him. He squinted up to see the vulture's wingsuit, turning around at the wall and circling the room once before coming back to Peter. He moved to run, but the suit had already caught up with the gasping teen, blocking his path and knocking him to the ground.

Footsteps echoed lightly as Peter tried to scramble back to his feet, only managing to push himself onto his elbows until there was the click of a gun. He turned, glaring up at the vulture guy, a pistol in hand pointed barely a few feet from his head.

"Nice try, Pedro," the man said, pulling back a smile. He called, "Schultz!"

Shock gauntlet guy was back, one eye black and his gauntlet buzzing with power. It charged up with an electric whine, the man raised back his fist, and when it came down, Peter only knew two things. Pain and darkness.

  ---

Tony stared around the completely packed tower, only a few boxes left in his lab to be moved to the plane that would blend into the dark New York night in barely ten minutes. He sighed, tucking his hands in his pocket as he looked out the window over the city. The billionaire had never been known for his sentiment, but even he could say that this move held a lot of significance. And, not only that, but, out there in the dark city below, his little shadow remained.

He'd been reeling the past couple days from the incident at the ferry, about Peter's actions and his own. In the end, the kid was only a kid, one desperate to put some good in the world. He was smart and strong and everything Tony hadn't been, but then he thought of the people on that ferry. If one had died, and Peter had been the cause of it--well, it was easy to see the kid would have never recovered from that.

He needed time, and Tony needed time too. 'Forever' had been a little rash, but a week and a half didn't quite have the consequences the teenager needed to swallow. After returning from the dock, he'd placed the neatly folded suit into the nearest box and hadn't looked back. He assumed the suit was somewhere still in the empty lab, waiting to be unpacked and then eventually returned to the kid when Tony saw him on Friday.

He furrowed his brows, pulling out his phone. Maybe he should text Peter, or call him, and make sure he was okay. He hadn't really expected to hear from the kid in the past few days, but after seeing Peter's thin ribs and hearing that his foster father had taken his money, he was less than thrilled to leave him alone.

Glancing back at the boxes left, he moved to click on the kid's number. This wouldn't take too long, and they would be going in his car anyway. No plane required.

An echoed ringtone answered the stale night air before he could click call.

"What?" he muttered to himself, turning his phone off. He turned away from the window to stare at the leftover boxes. Hesitantly, he stepped over to them, opening the one where the ringing was loudest.

Peter's suit sat inside, twitching as it rang. He reached out his hand, grabbing the red fabric and pulling it out. It was folded crisply, the mask tucked away neatly between the cloth. He snagged it from beneath the fabric, surprised at the heaviness of it.

A badge, a card, and a ringing phone all tumbled out, clattering on the floor as the mask was upturned.

What the hell...?

He kneeled down beside the items, heart racing and picking up the still ringing phone displaying an unknown number. He snatched it up, answering the call immediately and pressing it up to his ear, picking up the other items left behind.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Hmm, I expected a cute kid like Parker's soulmate to be nicer." Tony froze, motioning for Friday to begin tracking the call. "Then again, I knew what I was walking into ever since you pulled him out of that lake last week. You two should really be more careful about where you hold your conversations, y'know."

"Get to the point," he snapped. Out of the lake. Vulture Guy. He pulled up a separate hologram and began to search for what he'd previously left to the FBI. Pictures and shaky videos of the large metal wings appeared in front of him.

"Y'know," the man dawdled, ignoring Tony's demand. "I didn't quite believe the kid when he said you wouldn't pay a ransom. I mean, a billionaire for a soulmate and, with no hesitation, he just said it. But really, I get it now. I do."

"You don't get anything."

"I don't? Well, that's a surprise. I usually get things, and this one isn't very hard to tell. Kid hasn't looked at his shadow in two days."

Two...

"What the hell have you done to him?" he whispered, voice cold. He whirled around towards the screen that had the phone's location, brows furrowing when it wasn't any closer to finding out the source of the call.

"I've insured that business will continue to boom, Tony," the man answered easily. Tony took a seething breath, reigning himself in. Ransom. He'd said something about a ransom.

"What do you want?"

"Did you finish packing yet?"

Tony glanced at the boxes. "Yes."

"Good. That plane of yours is scheduled to take off soon. Let's make sure it stays that way."

"And Peter?"

"You get to come and get him."

"And if the plane doesn't stay on schedule?"

"You won't get the location in time. No more shadow for you."

Tony glanced down at the mask clutched in his hand and then at the shadow on the ground. It was pale in the dim room, hair curly and clothed in a baggy sweatshirt.

"I need proof that you have him," he demanded. There was ding. Drawing the phone away from his ear, he glared down at the photo. Peter was slumped against a cement pillar, chains wrapped tightly and thickly around him and the pillar. He was gagged and clearly passed out, a purple bruise forming around his eye. He still wore Tony's red hoodie.

"Did you get your proof?"

Tony swallowed. "Yep. Loud and clear."

"Great. When your plane leaves, I'll send you the location. As of now, you have half an hour."

"Until what?"

"I guess you'll find out."

And then the call disconnected.

"Shit!" he yelled, grabbing the suit and balling it up. "Friday, location."

"I was unable to trace the call, sir."

He rubbed at his face. "How long until wings up?"

"Ten minutes."

"Keep an eye out for an anonymous message. Notify me immediately. And how long would it take to get out a suit and reassemble it?"

"For the current Mark, anywhere between ten and fifteen minutes."

"That's too long," he muttered. Everything was taking too long. "Get my car ready downstairs. I want it waiting out front for me at a moment's notice."

"Of course, sir."

Panicking only slightly, he grabbed the last two boxes, piling them in his arms and rushing them to the elevator. The ride was quick, but it could have been quicker. When the doors slid open, he dashed out to where workers were piling the last of the tower's belongings into the open plane, Happy overseeing them all.

"All right, wheels up in eight minutes. We just got to load Tony’s old Hulkbuster armor, prototype for Cap’s new shield, and the Meging... the Meg... the... Thor’s magic belt," his friend called, catching sight of Tony, he paused. "And these two boxes. Hey, boss, what's up? You look like you're about to be sick."

"I need the plane going as quickly as possible. And I really mean as fast. As. Possible."

"Tony, what--"

"Just get it going," Tony snapped, making a note to apologize to his friend later. There wasn't any time to explain. Happy stared at him, and then nodded.

"Okay. Five minutes, it'll be in the air."

"Good. Thanks, Hap."

Tony left the boxes, keeping the suit and Peter's belongings with him and dashing back to the elevator. It took him to the empty bottom floor as quickly as possible, where he practically tore out through the doors and to where his car was waiting for him. The gas was already running as he slipped into it, pulling out his phone and waiting.

"How long since the timer started, Fri?"

"Seven minutes."

"The plane?"

"Taking off now."

Tony rolled down the window, poking his head out and squinting up. There was a distortion of movement, and then there was a buzz. He turned back into the car, glaring down at his phone to see an address in Brooklyn.

He floored on the gas.

"How far away is this?"

"Approximately twenty-eight minutes."

"How long we got?"

"Twenty-two."

"Great. Let's be there in twenty. Quickest route. I don't care how many laws we have to break to get there, got it? And trace the message's location, send it to Rhodes when you find it."

"Of course, sir."

Tony didn't know how many red lights he forced the car through, how many people he cut off and sped around, cutting every corner he could possibly find. It didn't feel fast enough. But nothing ever could. The only thing that went fast enough was the rapid pounding of his skittery heart.

How could he have been so stupid to leave Peter alone like that? To meet him and then drop him off like the drop of the hat. And to not even bring him home or make sure he wasn't injured. Or to even just have a reasonable conversation. It was despicable of Tony. And now Peter might die because of it. His little shadow.

While driving, he ordered for Friday to find Peter's missing person's report, his heart beating rapidly as he tried to piece together when the kid had been taken. Where? How far out had Tony been? Had they just been waiting for him to leave?

As it turned out, there wasn't one. Tony chewed his lip, pushing it to the back of his mind for now and just continuing to floor the pedal. One step at a time. He just had to get there before whatever was going to happen happened.

Tony ended up arriving in eighteen. He barely even parked the car, just ripped down the joystick and leaped out, running without any kind of hesitation into the dark warehouse.

  ---

When Peter blinked awake, it was to a constant ticking and the loss of his shadow. He panicked, struggling in an attempt to see what had guarded over him for so long. He needed it now more than ever. The chains he was trapped in rattled and clinked with his weak movements, and he winced at the pain around his eye and the soreness in his jaw. After a moment, he realized that it was the tight gag cutting into his cheeks so hard he was sure that there were cuts around the area.

A little more searching revealed to the trapped teenager that his shadow was still there, if a little faint. It stumped out in front of him, hard to make out, but Peter was grateful nonetheless. He knocked his head against the pillar, staring at the shadow in an attempt to force down the way his hairs were still raised on end.

He forced himself to tune into the ticking that was still happening, furrowing his brows and straining his ears. There was a lot of ticking actually. One in the pillar across to him, and the one across from him, and the ones line across the room...

The pillars were filled with bombs.

His breath caught.

Breathing was hard through the tight gag, but he managed to shudder in a few deep breaths, his whole body moving with the impossible action. After what felt like forever, he was a little more coherent, a little more able to comprehend his situation. Peter glanced away from his shadow, instead staring up to where the timer had been earlier. It was counting down quickly, now leaving him with five and a half minutes. The vulture guy hadn't said what was going to happen when that timer ran out, but, given the ticking bombs in the pillars, he had an idea.

The teenager began to struggle, trying desperately to get a good enough grip to pull his cuffs apart, but the chains kept his arms firmly strapped against his side. He let out a frustrated grunt after a minute of fruitless wrestling with the clinking metal, letting his head drop and blinking tiredly. Think, Parker, think.

"PETER!!"

Peter perked back up at the sound of his name, his eyes widening as he recognized the frantic voice echoing through the halls. Mr. Stark. What was Mr. Stark doing here? Is this what the vulture guy had meant?

Peter tried to shout back but, of course, the gag muffled his ability to speak. All that was choked out was a long grunt that barely made it past the room. He tried a few more times, rustling his chains as loud as possible to catch the man's attention. It apparently worked, because footsteps approached.

Mr. Stark burst through the door, frantic and wild eyes landing on Peter with a short gasp, but he never stopped running, sliding to a stop on his knees in front of the boy.

"Peter. Oh, my God, Peter, I am so sorry," the man apologized, his voice a whisper. Hands reached out towards his face. Peter couldn't help the way he flinched away, his head knocking against the pillar painfully, leaving splintered cracks in the cement. Mr. Stark paused, mumbling a horrified apology and glancing at his watch anxiously. "Okay, here's the deal. We're under a pretty strict time limit, okay? I just gotta get you out of here. Can I...can I take your gag off? Please?"

Peter hesitated, glancing at the clock behind Mr. Stark's head. Three and a half minutes.

Mr. Stark followed his gaze, glancing over his shoulder to catch sight of the ticking timer, his expression darkening. He turned back to Peter.

"Like I said, time limit. So, can I?"

After a moment, Peter nodded, leaning his head forward to let him grasp at the fabric. His instincts screamed to not give the man purchase to his hair, but Peter knew better. Not that he could stop the flinch when Mr. Stark's fingers brushed against the back of his head.

Mr. Stark reached forward immediately, untying the knot and pulling the gag away in a gentle manner, letting Peter finally take a deep breath. He moved his jaw, trying to undo some of the tension trapped there and wincing at the pain that dug into it. The billionaire moved onto working the chains, his watch turning into a bright red Iron Man gauntlet that began to power through the metal.

It was silent a moment before, "When did they get you?"

Peter swallowed, leaning his head back and shrugging. "After the uh--after the ferry. Cornered me in an alley probably half an hour after."

"I'm sorry, kid," Mr. Stark apologized, but Peter just shrugged again, staring pointedly forward. He kept a careful eye on the clock. Two and a half minutes, and the chains weren't looking good. He narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the watch. It didn't have a direct power source, and he very much doubted it would be able to break through all of his chains in time. He swallowed.

"It's okay. My fault anyways."

"No. This isn't--"

"It is, Mr. Stark," Peter protested. Mr. Stark stared at him, but he needed this off of his chest. This horrible guilt that he was he'd never get the chance to get rid of. And now might be his last opportunity. "I was the one who went after the vulture guy. Not even with good intentions. I just... I don't know. You're--you're Tony Stark, and having me for a soulmate seemed less than thrilling to you. I just wanted to prove that I was worthy to be your shadow. And I didn't. And I'm sorry. And...and I get why you didn't want to talk to me again."

"Peter--"

"Just go, Mr. Stark."

"What? No! I will not leave you--"

"The clock, Mr. Stark." They both turned to look at it. "Less than a minute. You won't get me free in time."

"We don't even know what will happen! It could be a fluke for all we know," the man protested. Peter stared at him, unable to keep himself from trembling in fear, gesturing towards the nearest pillar with a nod of his head. His voice was a quaking whisper.

"These all have bombs in them. Every single one, except for the one I'm tied against. You won't make it if you stay here."

Mr. Stark stared at him, his gaze hard, still blazing through the chains. None had been completely broken yet, but they were beginning to turn orangey-red. There was a frightening resolution in his stare, and Peter did his best to return it despite how much he was blinking back horribly frustrated tears. He forced his gaze away, checking the timer once more. Twenty seconds.

"Please, Mr. Stark. You need to go."

"I'm not leaving you," the man said. The chains were getting redder, Peter could probably tear at them soon, but not soon enough. He continued straining anyway, grunting as the metal resisted against him. "We're going to have a much longer talk later, kid, but I don't want you to think for a second that I don't want you as my soulmate. You're a good kid, with a good heart. There is nothing to prove. Absolutely nothing."

Peter glanced at him from where he was straining, surprised at the wetness swimming in the man's eyes.

The chains snapped, falling around Peter in a metal heap. The timer beeped.

The thundering of booms crowded Peter, going off around the room in a sporadic circle. Mr. Stark's arms wrapped around him immediately, a protective body shielding him against what Peter had honestly expected to be a bigger explosion. Instead, they were small, knocking out the middle of the pillars so quickly that trying to follow them made his head spin. He figured out what was happening just a second too late.

Working against the instinct to curl himself into a protective huddle underneath his soulmate, safe from the crowding dust and explosions that shattered through the air so hard that he could feel the vibrations underneath the man's arms, the teenager broke free of his hold. The ceiling crumbled down as quickly as he moved, forcing Mr. Stark to the ground as far away as he could reach and piling himself in between.

No amount of bracing himself could have prepared Peter for the pain.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Hello, could you do a Misfits Nathan X Fem reader one shot where Nathan and reader open their Christmas presents, and Reader surprises Nathan with a positive pregnancy test, and he is shocked, but happy, and then they go to Nathans mum's house for Christmas dinner and announce the news. His Mum then talks about how Cute Nathan was as a baby, and embarrasses him, and reader laughs and smiles at hearing stories of baby Nathan. (sorry this request is long) Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Baby’s First Christmas

A/N: This is a request based prompt, one of the Christmas ones. I’m not sure if the other will get out by Christmas, but I’ll try my best. A lovely and fluffy Nathan x reader one. This is a double request, so I answered the request to this one, but they contain the same material. Makes it much easier for me lol.

Warnings: none really, very fluffy, but breastfeeding, food, small mention of coitus

Cheeky Tag List: @misskittysmagicportal, @robertsheehanownsmyass, @joz-stankovich, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @wasabimia, @iamsexytrash, @midnightseance, @the-novel-on-the-left

“Good morning love.” Nathan said, holding Lily above you, where she stared at you, a bit deftly, but you know it was because she didn’t really know what to expect. Either way, you smiled and sat up, letting her into your arms.

“Good morning to you too. How’s she been today?” you ask, cheek brushing against Lily’s head, curls tickling you.

“Very good. When I walked into her nursery, she was already awake and just gawking at me, y’know like babies do. She’s been very sweet though.” Nathan said, averting his eyes as you lowered your shirt, Lily latching herself immediately.

  Even though it’d been months since Lily’s birth, Nathan still looked away when you breastfed. It’s a natural thing, but his response was always “Yeah, but I feel like I’m being disrespectful if I think about sucking on ‘em too.” You chuckle as you think about it, and suddenly remember that Christmas was upon the two of you. You moved from out of bed, and slowly walked to the living room, where Nathan lay by the tree, striking a pose. Multiple gifts were piled under the large pine tree, and Lily broke away from her feeding to look at the tree, eyes full of wonder.

“Aw, bless. Look at her little hands!” Nathan said, walking up to you two, kissing the top of Lily head once more, making her let out a very cute giggle.

   Her hands were reaching out to try to touch the lights, but you two knew better. Lily had the tendency to pull at things, like any other baby, and it would end in disaster. He smiled at his daughter, and you sat on the floor as Nathan brought you presents, Lily happily tearing at some of the wrapping paper. Both of your parents, (even Nathan’s dad) were very supportive of the pregnancy, as shown through seeing them in-person, as well as the gifts you two received. Lily received a new pacifier, as well as a couple pairs of clothes from each side of the family, and she squealed upon seeing the tassels lined upon one of the shirts. Whenever either of you wore anything with string on an outfit, Lily could and would spend HOURS picking at the string and giggling at it. You were amazed at how much time she could spend playing with it. Neither of you could leave your hair down, or else it would be at the hands of Lily Young, who would pull at it, and never let go.

“Okay, time for coffee and breakfast, huh Nathan?” you asked, smiling up at him. There were still presents under the tree, but as per the household rule, if you got hungry, you’d eat, even if it’s time for presents. 

 Nathan cooked a simple breakfast, eggs and bacon, and the two of you happily ate, and as Lily grabbed at the two of you, you remembered the Christmas of last year, which was much more different than this one’s.

“Merry Christmas babe! I got you a pre-tree present to open right in bed!” you yelled, wakingNathan up from his sleep. He smiled upon seeing you, smiling at him, as the past few weeks you’d been a tad bit ill.

“Ah, Merry Christmas day to ye’ too. What’ve you got for me, huh?” he said, reaching for the gift. His chest peeked out from the top of the sheets, and you couldn’t help but reach your hand out and rub it, him smiling at the gesture.

  You’d had a bit of a guess that you’d been pregnant for a couple weeks, as your period was a month late, which hadn’t happened in almost 10 years. You’d also been sick for weeks on end, and it was pure torture for you to experience. Nathan had even noticed, and when he noticed you were having a particularly rough day, he’d make you a light dinner, and rub your back and feet. He’d picked up a small job, and was trying to make ends meet for your minimal apartment. So, when you thought about pregnancy, and how many times Nathan was just too horny for protection, the dots started to connect. So, you got a pregnancy test, as well as an ultrasound, and wham bam, shanglang (and a shalalalala), you’re pregnant with Nathan’s kid. You accepted it, and the two of you had been talking about kids for a while. You decided to tell him in a way he could accept better. Instead of a more serious talk, it was a gift.

“This a tampon or something?” Nathan asks, holding the test in his face, looking at you. You shook your head and laughed, and pointed at the plus sign. Nathan glanced at what you were pointing at, and it took a moment for another emotion to fall upon his face. It was joy, and he went forward to hug you.

“You could've told me you were pregnant love.” Nathan muttered into your neck, and hugged you a bit tighter, satisfying your senses. You smiled at his reaction, and as his lips moved to your stomach, where he began talking to your baby, and a few tears slipped from your face. He moved back up to kiss your lips, and the two of you stayed in bed for a bit of celebration before moving downstairs to look at the rest of your presents.

  Your brain took you back to the present, and Nathan had Lily in his arms, and she was reaching towards his chest, and you both laughed. She had a tendency to grab toward people’s chest, it was her favorite place to cuddle, and if you two had to go in public with her, strollers would have to be forgotten. It kept her from fussing, and kept everything calm.

“Alright, we need to get ready to go to me mam’s, alrighty?” Nathan said, after cleaning breakfast up and heading upstairs.

“Fine, you can get Lily cleaned and dressed while I shower, then we can swap after I’m done, alright?” you say, grabbing your clothes from the closet. Nathan nods his head, and you kiss Lily’s forehead before heading to the bathroom, taking your time to get ready. 

 It’d been a very busy few months with a new baby, and learning to adjust to her in your lives. You and Nathan used to go out for weekly dates and enjoy each other’s company, but you couldn’t even remember the last time you two went out together. It was ages ago. Even if it was to your family, you were grateful to get out of the house and see other people. A few minutes later, you waltzed out of the bathroom, fresh as a rose, and Nathan eyed you up and down, smirking at your form. 

“You are very beautiful and I have the very strong desire to bang you, but I promise. When Lily’s being tended to by family, that ass is mine.” Nathan whispers, kissing your neck before handing Lily over to you, who was drifting off to sleep. 

  Your job was going to be very easy until you two had to drive to Nathan’s mum’s house, which might cause unwanted chaos with Lily. If she woke up in a car, she could either A. fall back asleep. B. immediately start crying, scaring both you and Nathan, or C. stay calm and be her usual, bubbly self. Either way, you were happy to be out of the house. Once Nathan emerged from the restroom, dapped out in his grey suit, you two gathered your baby bag, keys, and adult snacks (bc Nathan accidentally ate baby snacks and he wasn't happy about it) and walked out of the door with time to spare. The ride was very calm, and as he drove, you sat in the back of the car and your thoughts drifted back to last year’s Christmas.

“Come on baby, can’t be late!” you yelled through the door to Nathan, who was taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

“I gotta perfect my hair, my mum can’t know we’ve been shagging as a reason for the season!” he yelled back, and you heard the water run once more.

  You rolled your eyes with affection, and went to the living room, and got a glass of water to help cool yourself down. You were nervous about telling Nathan’s mom, as anyone would be, but you just couldn’t shake the anxiety off. Nathan eventually emerged from the bathroom, and you two rushed down the steps of the apartment, trying not to be too terribly late to the Christmas dinner his mom has prepared for you two. You rarely ever saw her, but goodness, could that woman cook up a storm. You always left her place stuffed and ready to crash into bed due to a food coma.

  Upon arrival, you shivered in your seat, and got ready to tell Nathan’s mom the big news as soon as you entered, but every time you felt good about it, your anxiety shut you down. She offered you a glass of wine, but you had to turn her down, and she just blamed it on the fact that you were driving, and Nathan loved himself a pint. When dinner arrived, your stomach turned itself into knots, and all you wanted to do was scream. When she began carving the turkey, your brain farted, and all of a sudden you blurted out.

“Ms. Young, I’m pregnant so….that’s why I didn’t really want any wine, I’m sorry, I’ve just not been feeling up to it lately.” and a small tear fell from your eye.

“Aw, love, don’t feel bad, that’s wonderful news. Never expected Nathan to be one for children, but I’m very happy about this. I’ve got some lovely stories and pictures from when he was a little babby.” she replied, putting your hand over yours.

  You giggled and thanked her, Nathan coming from behind to kiss the top of your head, but preparing for the stories about to be told. His mom showed you pictures of Nathan with mall Santa, as well as the Easter bunny. He was cringing at the thought of himself doing anything even remotely cute. She showed you pictures of him chasing after the family dog, and even one of him with an academic achievement award, one for reading.

“I didn’t know you were literate Nathan. Now I know to get you books for your birthday, you twat.” you say, teasing Nathan, much to his dismay.

“Oh, he really likes reading, let me tell you. He would plow through so many books, I thought of renting out the library for him. He would never stop reading this one.” she said, looking over at him, who was nose deep in his old copy of The Hobbit. A faint blush covered his cheeks, and his mom ruffled his curls, and Nathan smirked at her, thanking her.

  You returned back to the present, and Nathan looked over to you, kissing your hand. You two smiled, and as you headed to his mom’s house, you knew it was going to be much better.

“Nathan, how are you. And his lovely partner, AND SWEET BABY LILY AWW!” his mother said, fawning over the three of you. Lily cooed at her grandmother, and was handed over to her, happily accepted.

  You all stepped into her apartment, and brought in the baby bag, almost forgotten in the car. You helped out in the kitchen with Nathan’s mom as Lily played in the living room, watching her father look at childhood photos. Nathan took his daughter from her playpen, and held her up to the pictures, talking to her quietly. You glanced from the kitchen, and worked the dough for quick pie, Nathan’s mom catching you slacking a bit.

“He’s a keeper, honey. And you are too. You should hear the way he talks about you to me. Nothing but love and admiration in his voice, and even now, talking to Lily. He doesn’t really open up much, not even to me. But the way that he’s talking to Lily right now is really lovely.” she says, looking at you.

“Yeah. He’s been super supportive during everything and I seriously couldn’t be happier. He’s so wonderful. Always talking to Lily and being so gentle with her. You raised an amazing son.” you said, smiling.

 When the food was ready, the lot of you piled into the living room, and ate a full meal, plus desserts. Lily was fully asleep by the time you all were wrapping everything up, and Nathan’s mom offered you two the guest room to stay in for the night. Nathan happily accepted it, and you slept peacefully that night, thankful of the support in your life.

Masterlist

[cali-holland]

Dandelion- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: You’re the only girl that makes Harrison nervous, the only girl that’s unknowingly owned his heart for years- and the only girl he’s ever stood up on a date. Now, four years later, is he too late to try for a second chance?

Featured Songs: Dandelion by Kacey Musgraves and It Had to Be You from When Harry Met Sally

Based On: This scene from Psych

Word Count: 12k (longest fic right hereeee)

Warnings: swearing, secondhand embarrassment to the MAX, Harrison being a simp

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Why are we even shopping today? Your party’s not for another week.” Harrison let out a groan as he walked into the grocery store with Tom and Harry, the former had been very insistent on getting food for his birthday party a week in advance.

“I procrastinate on everything else, let me do something reasonably on time for once.” Tom stated, pushing the cart and heading straight for the alcohol aisle. “What should we get?”

“It’s your party.” The blond replied with a shrug. He grabbed a large case of beer, claiming, “As long as there’s beer, I’m fine.” “Didn’t you say Shelby likes Whiteclaws?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah, she does!” Tom perked up, grabbing a large box full of the hard seltzers.

“You’re catering to Shelby’s needs now? Tom, it’s your party.” Harrison reminded him again. Shelby being the girl who was Tom’s unofficial girlfriend.

“I want to impress her.”

“Haz, calm down. Maybe she’ll bring some of her hot friends for us.” Harry joked, nudging his friend, who looked unimpressed.

“I’m just saying, you should just be official with her already. You’re practically dating her.” Harrison insisted.

“You’re one to talk.” Tom laughed, before mimicking his friend, “‘Just ask her out already. It’s not that hard.’ Wanna remind us how you haven’t asked a girl out in four years?”

“Shove off. I’ll get the chasers.” He walked away without another word, trying to ignore the snickering from the two Holland boys behind them.

Harrison knew it was hypocritical of him to encourage Tom to officially date Shelby when he couldn’t even ask a girl out. It wasn’t like he had trouble talking to girls; no, Harrison was good-looking and he knew it, so he naturally had no problem turning on his charm whenever a pretty girl was around. It was just that when the time came to actually ask a girl out, he couldn’t. He’d freeze and have horrendous flashbacks to his last date four years ago, flashbacks that crept into his mind now as he searched for some good chasers.

“Harrison! You’re going to be late!” His mom called to him from downstairs.

“No, I’m not!” He halted his nervous pacing as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing anything too special, just a nice blue button-up that brought out his eyes and his best pair of jeans. He kicked himself for letting Tom borrow his nicest pair of casual shoes because the ones he currently wore were just not fitting right. They went well enough with his look, but they squeezed his toes uncomfortably and there were little dirt stains on the side that he just hoped no one could see, especially you. He ran his fingers through his hair, and then again, trying to fix it and make sure it didn’t look too gelled up or too casual. He thought to himself ‘This is a casual thing, calm down’, but his brain was so scattered, he could barely focus on that.

“Mum says you need to leave.” His sister said, opening his door and making him jump.

“How do I look?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Wonderful. Now go, you’ve got a date!” She pushed him out of the room. Harrison grabbed his keys and his wallet from the table near his front door, trying to rush out of the house before his mum came into the room, but she was too fast.

“Let me see.” She smiled teasingly at him, and he sighed before turning around so that she could approve of his outfit. Pinching his cheeks, she gushed, “You look so handsome.”

“Thanks. I need to go.” He kissed his mother goodbye quickly.

As Harrison left his house, he heard his mum’s passing comment to his sister, “I’ve never seen him so nervous for a date. I hope she’s the one.”

Since you were getting off work and had your car there already, you’d told Harrison that you could meet him at the fairgrounds, the spot he had chosen for your date. The whole drive over there, he was thinking of different ways to greet you- should he do the cute romantic thing and cover your eyes for a moment, or was that too creepy? His mind rushed over to the wonder about how the night would go- would you two share a cotton candy, would you hold his hand as you two go on a thrill ride, would you need a jacket because it’s cold? Harrison’s heart surged with nervousness; he didn’t even think of bringing a jacket for you and he didn’t even have one for himself. Stopped at a red light, he blindly stretched a hand to the back of the car, in search of one of his spare jackets back there. Feeling a soft cotton material, he quickly pulled on the jacket and brought it up to his lap. He didn’t know how long it’d been his car, but judging by its smell it had definitely been in there a while. So maybe he wouldn’t give you his jacket in hopes that you take it home at the end of the night as an excuse to see him again.

The light turned green and he started to drive again. The thought of the end of the night hadn’t even crossed his mind. Did you expect him to kiss you or was it supposed to be one of those intimate hugs to end the date? His mum was right, he’d never been so nervous for a date, but he couldn’t help it. This was you.

He met you at school years ago. You two didn’t have many classes together, which made Harrison a bit sad because he wanted any opportunity to see you (but he was kind of grateful too because he definitely didn’t do well in the classes that you shared with him). He was completely enraptured by you; it took him months to finally talk to you in class. Then it took a couple more months before he managed to actually say anything more than a simple ‘hi’ to you. Poor Tom had to hear him go on for almost a year about how pretty you were or about something you said during class. Eventually, just in time for graduation when you’d all split ways, he worked up the courage to just get your number. After infrequently texting you for a while (he didn’t want to come off as a creep and text you too often), he finally asked you out a couple days ago. He was still in disbelief that you said yes. You were the girl he’d been fawning over for the past several years, and you had said yes to just going on a date with him. You had almost every guy at the school falling at your feet, you could have accompanied anyone to the carnival and yet you chose him. You made him feel like a giddy school boy, not a nearly 20-year old man.

He had hoped his nerves would’ve calmed down by the time he got to the fairgrounds, but they didn’t; if anything, his heart was beating inhumanly fast and his hands were the clammiest they’d ever been. He managed to get a parking spot near the front gate, right near where the two of you were supposed to meet. He was two minutes early; he had two minutes to calm down and go out there.

“Just be cool.” He mumbled to himself. He looked at himself in his rearview mirror and smiled, “‘Hi, Y/N’. No, that sounds creepy. ‘Hey’- God, no.” He groaned, still unable to settle on the best way to greet you. Seeing something move near the gate, he quickly looked over to see you walking to the gate.

You stood nervously in the shade, trying to hide from the evening sun. You wore a light blue babydoll dress with a dandelion print that made Harrison’s heart soar- you two had inadvertently matched color schemes. On your shoulders rested a dark blue denim jacket, which told Harrison all his worrying about the jacket dilemma was for nothing. He already knew your jacket definitely smelt better than his, and that was reassuring to him. You just looked so beautiful standing there; if you hadn’t told him you were coming from work, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. He watched as you nervously fiddled with the black bag hanging from your shoulder. You got out your phone, and Harrison watched your fingers dance across the screen before his own phone vibrated.

‘Hey, I’m here x’ You had texted him, and his heart seemed to start beating even faster- he didn’t know how he wasn’t having a heart attack. You held your phone with your left hand and put your right hand in your jacket pocket, fidgeting with it anxious. It was a nervous tick of yours that Harrison had picked up on years ago; whenever you were nervous, you’d play with your right pocket and that’s why your right jacket pockets were always disproportionately more damaged than your left.

Any confidence that he had before was gone. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to your text, and he felt frozen in his car. After a few more minutes had gone by, you texted him again and began to walk in small circles. Instead of reading your text, he pulled up Tom’s contact. He hated it, but he needed his best friend, he needed to be talked into going out there. Tom was the only person who saw firsthand how much Harrison admired you over the years, seeing as he was the one to continuously push his friend to talk to you.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Tom asked as soon as he picked up the phone. When Harrison didn’t immediately respond, he got concerned, “Mate, tell me Y/N didn’t stand you up.”

“No, no. I just- Tom, I can’t.” Harrison said, his voice breaking.

“What do you mean you can’t? The girl of your dreams agreed to go on a date with you, give her the best date ever.”

“No, I can’t. She’s here, but I- I can’t even get out of my car.”

“Do you not like her anymore?” He asked, unsure of his friend’s predicament. Harrison had been so nervously excited about your date for days, and Tom had to hear all about how much his best friend liked you for years. This was a perfect situation for Harrison, was it not?

“I do. It’s just too real. There’s no way she’d actually date me. She’s too good for me.”

“Harrison! Listen to yourself! You’re incredible, mate, and Y/N knows that. That’s why she agreed to go out with you. Don’t leave her there. Go get her.” Tom insisted.

“O-okay, I will.” He replied before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. He was about to leave his car when he got a call from you. He wanted to pick it up, he wanted to hear your voice, but he just felt like he was disappointing you. It had been half an hour already. Once the phone call went through and you left a voicemail, he looked up to see you sitting against the trunk of a tree, defeated, and turned away from his car that you still had yet to spot. He felt defeated himself, he was looking forward to this so much and now he was just being cowardly. He hated this feeling. A sudden surge of confidence overcame him and he hopped out of his car, thinking it’s now or never.

You hadn’t seen him yet, and he was mere steps from you. He stopped when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t think he’s coming.” You sighed. There was a pause as you listened to the other end of the call, still unaware of his presence. “I’m just going to go. It’s been almost a hour, and I haven’t even heard from him. It just feels like a waste of time, he really let me down.”

Harrison felt himself grow heavy at your words. As much as he wanted to take the final few steps to you and to tell you he was there, his body betrayed him and he stood there, motionless and speechless.

“I even wore that blue dress I just bought. I thought he’d like it because it matches his eyes.” You laughed lightly and he felt his heart drop at your words. You were trying to impress him. “I feel so stupid. It’s probably stained now.” You stood up and dusted off your dress. You sniffled a bit and he felt his heart break- he’d made you cry and it was the worst feeling in the world for him. As you took one last look around for him, Harrison ducked behind the large tree trunk to stay out of view. With a final sigh, you left. Harrison threw his head back against the tree. He was so angry with himself, you were all he wanted for years and he finally had him, but now you were gone, probably for good. You were there, and he was there; why couldn’t he just actually be there for you?

“Chasers, chasers, chasers,” He mumbled to himself, walking through the store trying to find where they had hidden the drink section (why it wasn’t right beside the alcohol section, he didn’t know). He paused his search, hearing an all too familiar singing voice come over the store’s radio.

As if the memory of him leaving you like that wasn’t haunting enough for him, you went on to become a successful artist and sometimes he felt like there was no escaping your popular songs. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to them though. Tom said that they were good- after all, he still kind of kept up in contact with you, but Harrison knew it’d only make him feel even more guilty about his actions all those years ago. He hadn’t reached out to you at all since before that fateful and horrendous night. You were special and he always knew that, he just didn’t appreciate you enough when you were there.

Trying his best to ignore the melodic sound of your voice, he continued his journey to finding chasers. He finally found the aisle labeled “beverages” and figured they had to be there. When he turned the corner, his eyes quickly darted to the drink selection in front of him. It was only then that he realized this was a stupid idea; why did Tom put him in charge of chasers? It was still Tom’s party. Just as Harrison was about to say “fuck it” and grab a box of Coke, he realized there was one other person in the aisle to his left. The stranger hadn’t noticed him though and she pushed a loose hair back under her hood before pulling the hood down some more, so her face was a bit more obstructed. Her right hand was shoved into her jacket pocket, fiddling with the cotton material.

Harrison immediately felt a wave of nausea overcome him as his brain processed the stranger as you. It had been four years since he’d stood you up and watched you walk away at the fairgrounds, four whole years since he let his dream girl just walk away, four years since he broke his own heart. He realized he’d been staring too long when you started to look over at him, and before he knew it, he was running out of the aisle and crashing into Harry around the corner.

“Did you get chasers?” Harry asked, confused by his friend’s terrified appearance.

“I- uh, no. I can’t- can’t go down there.” Harrison coughed, scratching his neck nervously.

“Why not?” He looked between Tom and Harrison. Tom’s eyes were just about as wide as Harrison’s; he knew exactly who could be down the aisle to have that sort of effect on his best friend.

“Y/N’s down there?” The older Holland clarified, and the blond nodded, biting his lip.

“Wait, the Y/N?” Harry questioned. He’d heard about the girl that Harrison stood up four years ago, but he’d never actually met her; he’d seen pictures of you, but you were kind of famous now so who hadn’t? Your name had been like a taboo in the Osterfield and Holland households for years now- no one dared to bring you up in front of Harrison, no one except for Tom. Tom was the only person who really knew what happened when it happened. He ended up telling Harry and Sam a few months afterwards, seeing as they were both close with Harrison, but Harrison never told his family. He had told his family that the date went poorly and it was never mentioned again.

“I can’t- I’m- nope.” Harrison was a stuttering mess.

“Look,” Tom started, but his words were cut short as you came around the corner. Harrison quickly dove behind one of the tall bread stands, hoping you hadn’t seen him, but you had and they all knew his hiding spot wasn’t a good one. He mentally cursed at his feet that stood planted in the ground; they wouldn’t let him run away out of this hell of a grocery store.

“Oh, hi, Tom.” You smiled, politely. You had no problem with Tom; after all, he wasn’t the one that stood you up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He leaned over a little, trying to block Harrison from your view. “How have you been?”

“Never better. And you?” You asked, your smile strained as your eyes flickered over to Harrison’s “hidden” figure for a moment. His blue eyes that once captivated you were trained to the ground.

“Been good.” Tom replied, not really sure how long he could keep up the small talk in front of his painstakingly awkward friend.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the abnormally pale Harrison or try to console his poor friend. He’d never seen Harrison be so nervous before; sure, he’d seen the blond be nervous before about something, but never this nervous because of a girl. Now he knew what Tom was talking about when he said Harrison was always a mess when it came to you. To Harry, it almost justified Harrison being so nervous that he stood you up, almost (both Hollands still think it was stupid of Harrison to not just get out of the car and go to you).

“Are you having a party or something?” You asked, looking down at the contents of Tom’s cart that included excessive amounts of alcohol and snacks, both savory and sweet.

“Yeah,” He paused for a moment, glancing over at Harrison before a wide smile broke out on his face, “You should come.”

He held back his grimace as Harrison obviously kicked him, silently questioning what the actual fuck he was thinking. You looked at Tom confused because in all your years of knowing him, you two had been more acquaintances than friends, and also it was a party with Harrison there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to even go, but you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Tom smiled and you nodded.

“Well I should be going, but it was nice seeing you.” You stepped around him, needing to get to an aisle behind him. Harrison did the best thing he could to hide from you, holding up a loaf of bread and keeping his eyes closed, praying the ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ concept would pay off. “Bye, Harrison.”

With that, you walked away from the three boys and Harrison let out a small sigh, putting the bread back on the shelf. Tom laughed as his friend punched him in the arm.

“What the hell was that for?” Harrison questioned, all nervousness going away, but he still looked around the store in paranoia in case you came back.

“It’s perfect, mate. Y/N will come to the party, you can apologize and talk to her, and hopefully she takes you back.” Tom smiled hopefully. He thought his plan was ingenious, but the stern look on his friend’s face said otherwise.

“That’s a shit plan.” He crossed his arms, “Look at me! I still can’t even look at her. She just- ugh, I’m not going.”

“You’d miss my birthday party because of Y/N?”

“Well,” Harrison sighed, knowing Tom would hate him if he actually didn’t go. Plus, it’s at his house so he would have to have a pretty big excuse not to show up. “Fine, but I’m not talking to her.”

“I didn’t believe Tom about Y/N until now. You’re so whipped.” Harry laughed, earning a smack from the frustrated Harrison.

“It’s been four years, and she still has a hold over you. I wonder if she knows.” Tom teased him.

“Shut up.” Harrison grumbled, “Let’s just get the chasers and leave.”

Harrison had one week, a whole seven days to prepare his apology speech. He paced around his room daily, trying to come up with the right words to say, even though you’d leave him too speechless and stunned anyway. He felt like he was attempting at writing a Shakespearean monologue, he felt desperate. But how do you apologize to someone who wasn’t even yours to begin with? How does he tell you that he’s sorry he left you? And that it was all because you made him too nervous to actually do anything? And it ended up breaking his heart and stalling his love life up until this point because no one can compare to you, the girl he’s basically loved since he was 14? He never really admitted it before then, but he did love you and that’s why it hurt even more to reflect on that regretful night.

He often wondered how different his life would be if he had just gotten out of the car. Or even if he had remembered a clean jacket. He would’ve greeted you with a bright smile at the gate, and you’d be overjoyed to see him; you two would have shared food all night long; he would have loved to see the crinkles by your eyes as you smiled and laughed from the thrill of the rides; he would have wanted to kiss you on the top of the ferris wheel because you would already be holding his hand since you were afraid of heights; but he would’ve saved your first kiss for the end of the night, for when he was walking you to your car, his hand in yours, his jacket around your shoulders- he would’ve kissed you under the moonlight. But then, maybe you wouldn’t have had your big break, maybe you wouldn’t have written your first big hit because he was in your life, because he was a distraction from your career- and then neither of you would have really known if you could make it in the music business. Yet again, maybe you two would have moved in together by now, living happily in a small apartment, or even a small house where you could have a dog to run around the yard.

For four years, he’s been dreaming of all the different events that could have occurred if he had just gotten out of the car, if he had just stopped you before you walked away. For four years, you’d owned his heart, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you tonight at the party.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison mumbled to himself, pulling on a nice button-up. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair a little. He just kept repeating the two words he so desperately wanted to tell you tonight. Maybe if he said it enough times now before the party, it’d be the only words he could squeak out when you were there. The anxious part of him was hoping you wouldn’t show, that you’d be sick or something and just couldn’t go; but then the realistic part of him remembered that you literally texted Tom this morning, asking why he didn’t tell you it was a birthday party because now you had to get him a last minute gift- apparently you’d seen the news on Twitter.

“Harrison, dear God, please shut the fuck up.” Tom said as he and Harrison were setting up the makeshift bar. The blond hadn’t even realized he was still mindlessly repeating those words.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Sorry. I get it.” He cut him off. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to come in, and you’ll apologize.”

“That requires me to speak to her.” Harrison stated, his nerves already hitting him as his palms began to grow clammy.

“I had to listen to you go on about this girl for almost a year before you managed to actually say anything but ‘hi’ to her. You are going to talk to her tonight. That’s what the alcohol’s for.” He laughed lightheartedly, before threateningly adding, “And you’re not going to walk away from her!”

“At this point, I’ll be surprised if my feet actually work around her.” He sighed, putting his hands on the counter and leaning into them. He was beyond stressed about the party, which was just an hour away, “I don’t know what it is about her, but I just- I freeze. She’s beautiful and sweet and funny, and she’s got such an incredible singing voice. She’s perfect and breathtaking, and I can’t handle it. She’s absolutely the girl of my dreams but god, these butterflies are the worst thing in the world. Every time she’s near me, I just can’t speak and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest and my hands get all sweaty and- and I just love her, but I fucked it all up.”

“Calm down, Haz.” Tom spoke softly. “You never know, she might give you another shot. On the bright side, there’s no way you can fuck it up more as long as you don’t freeze.”

“What if-” Harrison paused, standing up straight, “What if I just kept my eyes closed all night, so if I run into her, I won’t freeze because I won’t be able to see her?”

“She’s not fucking Medusa.” His friend smacked him on the back of the head. “Pull yourself together!”

Once the bar was set up, Harrison went back to his room to try to memorize his speech, the perfect words that will hopefully win you over. He read over the small piece of paper, crinkling it under his fingers lightly. He heard Tom start the music and suddenly people began to arrive. He had to go out there now or else he’d never go.

“I can do this.” He told himself as he looked in the mirror, and he suddenly felt like a 19 year old all over again, anxiously hyping himself up for the biggest date of his life. This time it was different. This time he was going to talk to you (well, at least say ‘hi’ before running away).

“You good?” Harry asked as he handed Harrison a drink when the blond finally made it to the kitchen while the party was picking up pace.

“Yeah,” He replied, but it did nothing to convince either of them that he was, in fact, good. Harrison quickly drank the beer, knowing he’d need a bit more if he was going to actually confront you tonight.

“Don’t go too hard. You’ve got to be somewhat coherent when you talk to Y/N.” His friend warned, but Harrison shook him off, downing another. With two drinks suddenly in his system, he stopped to nurse the third one properly. Harry sighed, but he even had to admit that it was a decently good sign that Harrison wasn’t completely planning on being wasted when seeing you (he’d save the shots for after your rejection). Before leaving Harrison alone, Harry stated, “Don’t finish that drink until you talk to her.”

Harrison did as he was told, slowly savoring the one drink while eating some snacks and socializing with old friends. Tom made the rounds throughout the party, and it didn’t take long for Shelby to be latched on his arm. After half an hour of waiting for you, Harrison was about to give up hope and just chug the rest of his drink to get another because he could feel the alcohol slowly fade away. He couldn’t grab another though, because while Harry wasn’t in the kitchen with him anymore, the curly haired Holland still kept a watchful eye on him.

“Haz, look who just showed up.” Tom said, coming over to his friend and nudging him towards the front door, where you just stepped in. Just like that, the nervousness was overflowing in Harrison.

“Go talk to her.” Harry encouraged him, appearing by his side with Sam.

“I don’t-”

“Go!” All three Hollands shouted while Tom physically shoved his friend in your direction. Harrison’s feet took him to you, but they refused to move once your eyes landed on him.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

“Hi, Harrison.” You replied stiffly. In all honesty, you weren’t at all expecting him to actually come over to you and talk to you, not after the grocery store incident.

“Do you- do you want a beer? Or a Whiteclaw? We might have shots too.” Harrison offered. His cheeks heated up with a blush as he stuttered. If he thought he wasn’t good enough for you back then, he definitely felt inadequate now. The past four years had been good to you; you were even more beautiful in his eyes. And it definitely didn’t help that he knew you were a famous singer with probably numerous guys kissing at your feet.

“Could I have a Whiteclaw please?” 

“Uhuh, yeah,” He nodded, but his feet wouldn’t move. They’d fallen under your captivating spell. God, maybe Tom was wrong, maybe you were Medusa. 

“Everything alright?” You asked, pausing as you were going to follow him to the kitchen, yet he made no noticeable effort to move.

“Yeah, yeah.” His feet finally let him move. So far, so good; he had said all of ten words to you and he hadn’t completely frozen yet- and he hadn’t even walked away from you. As you followed Harrison into the kitchen, the other three Holland boys huddled in the crowd to sneakily watch.

“Wait, wait, that’s Harrison’s Y/N?” Sam asked quietly, just as surprised as Harry had been last week. Harrison was an actual mess as he tried to open your Whiteclaw for you, just to have it bubble over into his hands. The three other boys felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment hit them.

“This is painful to watch, but I can’t look away.” Harry laughed, taking a drink of his beer.

“You think this is painful? I had to sit through his schoolboy crush on her for years, I had to hear his every thought about her. And that includes his dilemma of asking her to formal.” Tom shook his head.

“Did he?” Sam asked.

“We were at a party and I think he got out the ‘will you’ part before running off to the bathroom. That’s the only time I’ve ever witnessed him vomiting from alcohol.” He shuddered, remembering having to console his incredibly drunk friend in the bathroom. Now, he was happy that Harrison was finally talking to you like you were a normal person or he was trying to. As if he was trying to will his friend some confidence, he murmured, “Just don’t choke, don’t walk away.”

“Here,” Harrison handed you a cup that he had transferred the Whiteclaw into, not wanting to give you back a sticky can. He washed his hands, acknowledging the sad Whiteclaw mark on his shirt.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking a sip of the drink.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison whispered, but with his back to you, the music blasting, and the sink still on, he knew you didn’t hear it. And he also knew that if he didn’t have the sound to drown out his words and if he turned to face you, he wouldn’t be able to recite his perfect speech. Sighing, he shut off the sink and turned to face you. As he started to speak, you looked at him and that was enough for him to not even make it past the “I”. Instead, he ended standing there and just moving his mouth, trying to get the words to come out.

“Yes?” You questioned. You remembered back at school that he was always nervous around you and you found it really cute and sweet. That was the main reason you were so interested in going on a date with him four years ago, and that was the main reason why you were so disappointed when he never showed up. Out of all the guys you’d ever met, Harrison was the one that you never believed would stand you up like that. It’d been four years, and you didn’t quite know if you still held a grudge over it. It hurt at the time because you really liked him and you thought he really liked you too, but years had passed so surely you should’ve moved on by now, right? And Harrison- he should have moved on too?

“I- um- ya know,” Harrison felt his tongue getting trapped in his throat. He wanted to scream out how sorry he was about everything and how much he actually cared about you, but the thought of actually talking anymore was making him want to vomit and he hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe alcohol with extreme nervousness wasn’t a good mixture for his body.

“Hey,” Tom approached you and Harrison, sweeping in to save his bumbling best friend.

“Hey, happy birthday.” You smiled at him. Harrison hung his head low in shame, he’d manage to mess it up again. He was more than thankful for Tom’s arrival.

“Thank you.” The birthday boy replied with a smile. He turned to Harrison and nudged him a little. “Harrison, what were you going to say?”

“Just, um-“ Harrison lifted his head to look at you, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. With your eyes resting on his intently and his heart beating fast, he could barely think. He thought back to his speech, back to those apologetic words he needed to say, back to his conversation with Tom just moments before the party. He quickly realized his mistake of thinking back to that recent memory because, before he could process his words, he helplessly blurted out, “You’re like Medusa.”

“Yeah- what?” Tom stopped himself, horrified at his friend’s words. He was fully prepared to back Harrison up, expecting him to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’- just anything besides ‘you’re like Medusa’. You just stood there with your eyes wide and jaw dropped. You didn’t even know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely was not that.

“You know, like- you just-“ The blond tripped on his words, looking to Tom for help.

“What he means to say,” He sent his friend a glare before turning to you, “He’s sorry about your date years ago, and he finds you mesmerizing.”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You spoke angrily, feeling hurt by Harrison’s words. So much for the sweet and cute teenager you remembered. “Go fuck yourself, Harrison.” Before you even processed your own actions, you threw the rest of your drink on him and stormed out.

“I’m,” Harrison sighed in defeat as his body started to function without you there, “Sorry.”

“Medusa? Are you fucking serious?” Tom asked, infuriated at his friend’s idiotic words. He was grateful that the party was too loud for anyone to register your actions, except for Sam and Harry who were quick by Harrison’s side.

“What the hell happened?” Harry questioned.

“I fucked it up even more.” Harrison groaned, grabbing some napkins to try to wipe off his face and shirt.

“He said she was like Medusa.” Tom explained.

“Since when is your game with girls shit?” Sam stated.

“She is like Medusa though. I freeze whenever she’s there.” The poor blond kept trying to wipe himself off.

“Well you don’t tell her that!”

“I need to go change.” Harrison sighed, leaving for his bedroom without another word.

“We either need to help him get over her or help him get her back.” Harry said as he watched his friend’s retreating form.

“Tonight was supposed to be getting her back.” Tom huffed in defeat. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Back in his room, Harrison discarded his wet shirt and went to his closet to grab a fresh shirt. That’s when he spotted it- the blue button up he’d worn for his date with you. It was his favorite shirt in his teen years, everyone always complimented it and his eyes whenever he wore it; but it had negative memories surrounding it, the negative thoughts of what could have been. It was mocking him. Grabbing a different shirt, he slipped it on comfortably.

He didn’t want to go back to the party downstairs. He just wanted to stay within the comforts of his room, where he could hide from socializing and act like you didn’t just humiliate him, like he had humiliated you years ago. He had to admit, he deserved a Whiteclaw to the face; in fact, he’d absolutely let you pour an entire keg on him if it made you feel better. God, he was so whipped for you, and you didn’t even know it, and worst of all, you weren’t even his.

Sighing, he laid down on his bed, wanting to savor a few minutes alone. It took him a moment before he registered the soft crinkling of paper and realized he’d been laying on his prepared speech for you.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you’re probably still mad, but just hear me out. I’m four years too late, and that’s four years I should’ve shown you just how amazing you are. I remember the first day I saw you at school. You were the prettiest girl in our school by far; I’d never seen anything as magnificent as you. You were funny, sweet, confident, beautiful inside and out- you were my dream girl. It took me months to work up the courage to talk to you, and I was so pleased when you’d reply to my small greetings with a simple smile. And then it took me even longer to have a full conversation with you. Do you remember it? It was about When Harry Met Sally because you said it was your favorite movie. I told you that I had seen it, but I lied and you knew it too. You were too nice to call me out on that though. Honestly, I still haven’t seen it. I know we didn’t talk much in school, it was more of a ‘we’re friends because we share classes’ friendship, but I still cherished every single time I got to hear your voice.

I know you’re wondering why I stood you up back then, but I didn’t intentionally do it. I was there, at the fairgrounds, two minutes early, and I was stressing over everything- over how I didn’t have a clean jacket to offer you in case you got cold, how I should greet you at the gate, whether or not I should kiss you at the end of the night. You meant so much to me back then- you still do now, but I was too nervous. I couldn’t get out of my car once I saw you there in that blue dress with the dandelions. You were breathtaking, and I couldn’t comprehend how someone as incredible as you would want to go on a date with me. You had almost every single guy at the school in love with you, it just didn’t seem possible that I could win your heart. It took me an hour, but I finally got out of the car and I was going over to you. I was so anxious and I still didn’t know what to say to you. You didn’t realize I was there, but I heard you on the phone. You said you wore that blue dress because you thought it matched my eyes, because you thought I’d like it more, you thought it’d make me like you more.

But you didn’t need a baby blue dress to make me like you. I was so head over heels in love with you back then. You didn’t know it then, and I didn’t know it quite yet either, but you owned my heart. I know this is a lot, and I know this is cheesy, but I do love you. I regret what I did four years ago and I often contemplate how different our lives would be if I had actually shown up like I was supposed to. I don’t regret giving you my heart though; it’s been yours for years and it’ll probably always be yours. So please, will you give me another chance? Will you go on a date with me? And I promise to show up and make it worth your while. You own my heart, please give me a chance at yours.’

Harrison laughed lightly to himself. The note was a pathetic attempt at some grand declaration of love and an apology. As sad as the speech was, he hated himself for not saying it to you. Instead he called you Medusa, of all things to say that was the worst. He didn’t mean it as a put-down or as a derogatory statement; he meant that you were just so captivating to him that he froze whenever he saw you. Everything about you was so beautiful, and he really needed to tell you that, even though he was sure you already knew it. He knew what he meant, but it didn’t come across at all how he intended it to.

He set the paper on his desk and left his room, knowing Tom would be expecting him to return to the party. Freshly changed, he went back downstairs and spotted the other three boys still in the kitchen conversing- he bet it had something to do with him, seeing as they all immediately quieted down when they saw him coming towards them.

“You alright?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned about his friend, even though he was currently trying to plot getting you and Harrison at least in the same room together again.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Harrison replied. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t fooling anyone really. He grabbed himself a new drink and went to get lost in the crowd. Tom sighed; maybe he shouldn’t have tried to push Harrison tonight, seeing his friend so upset just put a downer on Tom’s mood.

The night went on for Harrison though. Harry had been right last week- Shelby did bring some pretty attractive friends with her that she introduced to the blond (he thought mainly because Tom asked her to after the earlier events). One of them latched onto Harrison, and he didn’t mind the distraction, turning on his charm easily for her. Sam and Harry eyed their friend from afar as he flirted with the new girl; there was no denying Harrison could easily get a girl, which made it even more unbelievable that he was so tongue tied over you.

A few days passed and Harrison was still trying to recover from the party. His thoughts were still stuck on you. He couldn’t believe he had a second chance to talk to you and didn’t. Well, he did, but comparing you to Medusa wasn’t a good talk.

Unbeknownst to him, Tom had created an “ingenious” plan of getting Harrison to see you again, another shot for their friend to say something more than just a sad simile.

“We’re leaving now.” Tom said to Harrison as he and Harry started to walk out the door.

“Okay?” Harrison questioned. It was odd for any of them to announce that they were leaving the house. He had a strange feeling that his friends were up to something, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually care. What he didn’t realize was that Tom left with an envelope, encasing a familiar speech written by Harrison himself.

Hearing the front door close, he turned back to his phone in his hand. He took a sip of his tea as he continued to scroll through your Wikipedia page. Was it weird that he was looking you up? As long as no one knew, he felt like it was fine. He read over your brief background, which just said you were from Kingston.

He choked on his drink a little as he read over how you were discovered. You were singing one of your own songs in a cafe when an agent spotted you and eventually offered you a record deal. The song became your first official single and it was featured on your album of the same name. The song and album name? Dandelion. He could see it then, your blue dress with the delicate dandelion print on it with a denim jacket on top and a slightly damaged left pocket. He turned on the song on Spotify, listening to the lyrics, curious to see if it was about him. As the soft song began, he started to feel foolish; why would you have written a song about him? Maybe you just liked dandelions? Maybe you wore that dress on many dates? It looked incredible on you, so why wouldn’t you wear it often?

“Dandelion, a million little wishes float across the sky, but it’s a waste of breath and it’s a waste of time, I know,” You sounded almost sad as you sang, and Harrison assumed that’s what made you such a good singer, your emotion bled through into your songs, “‘Cause just like him, you always leave me crying, dandelion,”

Crying. Harrison made you cry when he stood you up. Maybe the song wasn’t completely about him, but something told him you may have been inspired after that night. He looked further into the song, wondering if maybe you had publicly said anything. Under the song’s Wikipedia page, it had a quote from you, saying “It was one of the worst nights of my life, getting stood up absolutely sucks and it’s embarrassing, but this song changed my life for the better, so I can’t help but feel a little grateful for that awful date”. As if the song didn’t already make him feel worse about it, you had confirmed it was about him, except no one knew that besides the two of you and anyone else who knew about that date specifically. Further looking into the seemingly endless page of information, he spotted the awards section. He couldn’t hide his pained smile as he read that not only was the song and album nominated for a Grammy, but you had actually won a Grammy for the song. So maybe there was a bright side to him not showing up that night because his actions made you write an incredible song.

As the song faded out, he jumped, hearing a sharp knock at the door. He quickly paused your music and closed out of his tab, not wanting anyone to have caught him basically stalking you online. He shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and walked to the door, wondering who would be arriving unannounced. He opened the door and froze, just like a few days ago, as you stood on his doorstep. The small smile on your face faltered as you saw him.

“Y/N, what- what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were there and it wasn’t just a hallucination.

“Tom invited me. Something about using my music in a film?” You explained, and Harrison raised his eyebrows at you questioningly. You sighed lightly, “Can I just come in and see Tom?”

“He, uh, he isn’t here.” He replied. A light bulb went off in his head, realizing why Tom was literally announcing his departure; he wanted you to be alone with Harrison.

“He said he was here. I just talked to him on the phone.” You stated, not fully believing him.

“No, he isn’t here.” He shook his head.

“Well, um, then I’m going to go.” You said, turning around. Harrison’s mind was racing, you were about to leave him again. Tom had already tried once to get you two together; he couldn’t let his best friend down again, he couldn’t let himself down again.

“��Dandelion”.” Harrison blurted out, stepping out of his to catch you before you got into your car.

“What?” You questioned.

“”Dandelion”. It’s a really good song.” He grimaced, suddenly feeling lame for saying it out loud. He didn’t mean to bring it up, but he needed to say something to you, and dear God it needed to be better than the Medusa comment.

“Thanks, I won a Grammy for it, so,” You answered proudly, pursing your lips together.

“I- I know.” His flickered down to your hand that rested almost threateningly on your car door handle. You were just about to pull it and leave when he spoke up again, “That dress looked amazing on you.”

This time, it was you who froze. You weren’t wearing a dress now, you weren’t wearing one at the party, and you definitely weren’t wearing one at the grocery store. Your mind had already made up its decision of what he meant, but your heart wouldn’t accept that pain all over again. “It’s been four years, Harrison. You don’t get to say anything now. I thought you were better than standing up a girl on a date that she was genuinely looking forward to.”

Harrison couldn’t react fast enough to your seething words before you got in your car and slammed the door shut, driving off quickly without sparing him another glance.  Once your car was out of sight, Harrison screamed out in agonizing frustration. He had you right there, you were right in front of him, he was actually talking to you, and he still managed to mess it all up. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, you weren’t ready to forgive him, but he wasn’t even sure he deserved your forgiveness.

“You let her go again?” Tom questioned, coming around the far corner of the house with Harry.

“I thought you two left.” Harrison looked at the pair suspiciously.

“We had to make sure you didn’t fuck it up again, but seems like you did.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Why did you tell her you were there? That’ll make her feel worse!”

“At least you didn’t call her Medusa.” Harry added, earning a pointed look from Harrison.

“Just stop trying to set me up with Y/N. She’s clearly still mad at me over it, and I can’t keep going through this humiliating cycle of rejection.”  With that, Harrison wordlessly stormed back into the house and up to his room, angry at his friends for trying so hard to make this right, angry at you for rejecting him yet again, angry at himself for letting you go again and again. Could he get another chance with you after messing it up four years ago and at the grocery store and at the party and now? He so desperately wanted the answer to be yes, but he feared his chances with you were up.

Harry turned skeptically to his older brother as the two walked inside the house. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“He talked to her at least. He said a full sentence and it was a compliment.” He said proudly, walking into the kitchen with his brother following him.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m meaning your other plan.” 

“The letter? There’s two ways it can go: Y/N never talks to him again or she’s touched and reaches out to him.” He stopped, thinking for a moment, “Or she writes another Grammy-winning song about him being a dick. We’ll see in a few days what she does.”

“He’s going to hate you for this, you know that.”

“He won’t hate me when they’re on a date.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’ll hate you for invading his privacy.”

“Whatever. Our plan is genius.” Tom smiled, extremely hopeful about his plan.

“Our? This was all your idea.”

“You’re an accomplice.”

“I’m a victim caught in the crossfire.” Harry held up his hands defensively.

Upstairs, Harrison was starting to grow worried. Where was his paper? He’d been running through it almost every day, hoping to grow the courage to tell you exactly how he felt. He was shit at words in person when it came to you, and he felt like he was even worse on paper. The speech was gone, and he had no clue where it was. He hoped no one had stumbled upon it- after all, he definitely hadn’t told his housemates about it.

Two days later, Tom started to get anxious, waiting for you to receive the letter and contact his friend. He thought perhaps it got put with fanmail, and you just wouldn’t see it for a while. He knew it was soon, but he was really, really impatient and he just wanted to do one thing right for his best friend, even if Harrison’s one request was for Tom to stop trying to be his wingman (in Tom’s defense, he told him to stop after the letter was sent and Harrison still didn’t know about it).

Trying to distract himself, Tom played Warzone with Harry. Neither of them had really talked about the whole letter situation, wanting the letter to take its own course. Just before they started another round, they heard a thud from Harrison’s room.

“What was that?” The older boy mumbled in confusion.

“Maybe he fell off the bed.” Harry laughed. His joke was short lived as Harrison came bolting down the stairs, phone in hand.

“Tom, give me your phone.” He insisted.

“Why?” Tom asked, handing over his phone anyway. After scrolling through it for a moment, Harrison’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking between the two phone screens.

“What is it?” The two others questioned.

“Y/N- she texted me.” Harrison smiled in disbelief, handing his friend his phone back. He sat down in the empty armchair and looked at his phone in awe.

“What’d she say?” Tom spoke up, ignoring his brother’s questioning look.

“She just said ‘You get one date. Don’t mess this up’.” He read off his phone, and Tom turned to his brother, nudging him a little. You’d gotten Harrison’s letter (that Tom sent) and you’d given him another chance.

“What’d you respond with?” Harry asked.

“I haven’t responded yet. She just texted me.” He said, nervously moving his thumbs as his phone rested in his hands. “Do I just ask about this Friday?”

“You mean tomorrow?” Tom clarified and he nodded.

“Too soon?”

“No, go for it.” He encouraged his friend. He smiled proudly as Harrison typed out the text and sent it to you.

“I wonder what changed her mind. I mean she was really mad last time. What if she’s leading me on? What if she’s going to stand me up?” He rambled anxiously. God, you hadn’t even planned a date yet, and he was a nervous mess.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Tom reassured him. Harrison hurried out of the room, murmuring something about needing to plan the perfect date (round 2). Tom turned to his younger brother, “She wouldn’t stand him up as revenge, right?”

Harry shrugged with a small sigh. Well, the boys could hope your intentions were good.

As Harrison tried to reel in his head and racing heart in the quiet reserve of his room, he felt his phone vibrate with another text from you. ‘They’re showing When Harry Met Sally tomorrow night at the park. Pick me up at 7?’

That’s not at all what he expected to receive back from you. Well, he definitely didn’t expect a text from you in the first place, which is why he had to check that it was actually your number on Tom’s phone. He didn’t expect your response to his sorta lame ‘are you free tomorrow night’ to be you planning the date itself. And not only that, but you wanted to see When Harry Met Sally- the first thing he ever truly talked to you about.

He could still remember that conversation clear as day. You were sitting beside him in study hall and pulled out your iPod to listen to music, since your 2010 phone didn’t have any music on it. You didn’t realize your headphones weren’t completely in, and your music started to play quietly. Harrison heard the soft jazz song play and decided to ask you about it before you got too caught up in your work. You smiled, telling him how “It Had to Be You” was from the greatest movie of all-time (in your opinion) When Harry Met Sally. He told you he’d seen it before and thoroughly enjoyed it as well, but the blank stare on his face when you brought up Meg Ryan was a dead giveaway to you that he hadn’t actually seen it. And yet, you didn’t make a comment about it; instead you asked him about his favorite movie. Before he could respond, your teacher called for silence, making you focus back on your work with your headphones plugged all the way into your iPod. Harrison thought that perhaps he saw you blush as you turned away from him, but he was too preoccupied with his mind still trying to process that you two had a conversation, a tiny one but it was enough for him.

He couldn’t argue with you about seeing the movie at the park tomorrow. You were giving him another chance, and if you wanted to see a movie in the park then Harrison would make damn sure that you’d get to see a movie in the park, even if he had to set up the projector and screen all by himself. This was his fifth chance with you, he couldn’t mess this up again.

“Ok, now remember, Y/N’s a human being so talk to her like one.” Tom stated as he stood by the front door with Harry and Sam beside him. Harrison sat at the step at the bottom of the stairs, tugging on his shoes. His big date was finally here, and his friends were grilling him on making it perfect. It kind of helped, but it also stressed him out a bit more.

“And compliment her, but not in a weird way.” Sam added.

“Don’t even think about Medusa.” Harry piped in.

“You got a clean jacket?” The oldest Holland asked. Harrison ducked back into his room to grab a fresh jacket, one that was perfect for you to wear tonight if you got cold.

“And you have the flowers, right?” At Harry’s words, the nervous boy rushed into the kitchen to grab the small, modest bouquet of fresh roses he had gotten earlier.

“How do I look?” Harrison asked, seeking approval as he held the bouquet in one hand and his jacket and keys in another. In jeans and a casual yet dressy blue shirt, he hoped he looked good enough for you. He thought about wearing that blue shirt he wore last time, but decided against it- maybe that shirt has bad voodoo on it, he didn’t know and he didn’t want to test it.

“You look great, now go get her.” Tom ushered him out of the door.

With a confident yet nervous spring in his step, Harrison stepped inside his car. He delicately placed the flowers and jacket on the passenger seat, sure to not damage or dirty either of them. He made his way over to your place, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. ‘Don’t choke’ he reminded himself. He needed to just make sure he didn’t freeze when he saw you; that was the most important thing, especially since he’d be driving the two of you tonight.

He pulled up to your house just two minutes before he was meant to be there. Two minutes for him to get up and greet you at the door. Just as he was about to open his door and step outside, your front door opened. He sat there awestruck as he watched you lock your door and head over to his car. You were sporting jeans and a simple navy blue blouse, and he swore you looked absolutely gorgeous. He unlocked his car and you opened the door, not even giving him any time to actually greet you outside.

“I got you flowers.” Harrison said, grabbing the jacket and the flowers off the seat to make room for you to sit.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You smiled softly, but still graciously accepted the flowers when he handed them to you. You smelled them and eyed the various pink and red roses that made up the bouquet, “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He replied, making you stifle a small laugh, even though you both knew how much he meant it. 

“You look pretty handsome, too.” You stated and he started his car back up. “Sorry for rushing out here. My roommate was driving me crazy.”

“I get it.” He laughed, thinking about just how crazy Tom had been acting the past couple weeks. Well, maybe his craziness rubbed off because it led to this moment right here- Harrison taking you on a proper date and hopefully, not freezing.

As Harrison drove over to the park, you two talked about basically everything, about how eager you were to show him this movie, about how his acting had been doing, about how his dog was (he was surprised you remembered Monty). All of it just made him feel more comfortable. Once he got past the wall of nerves from your presence, he was able to flick on his charm for you. You may have been his dream girl, but you were also just a regular person, a person he could hold a steady conversation with. When the two of you arrived at the park, he quickly rushed to the back of his car instead of walking towards the movie itself.

“I brought us a blanket and some snacks.” He explained when he saw your confusion. You smiled at him as he got out a large blanket and a bag of sweets and drinks from his trunk. You may have been the one to decide on the date itself, but he did his own part of the planning, ensuring you had a clean spot to sit and something to eat and drink while the movie played. “I didn’t know what snacks you liked so I kinda got some of everything.”

He opened the bag out to show you its contents and you peered inside. He had sweet candy, chocolate candy, salty snacks, just everything. You looked back up at him and a bright blush made its way onto his cheeks. In your eyes, he was back to being the sweet 19 year old you had agreed to go on a date with four years ago.

“It’s perfect.” You reassured him, but you weren’t even sure if you meant the snacks or the date or just him.

“Well, we better hurry if we want a good spot before the movie starts.” Harrison laughed lightly, closing the bag and shutting his trunk. You walked beside him to where the movie would be showing and found a nice spot near a tree. He laid out the blanket for you and the two of you sat down next to each other, but not enough to actually be touching.

“I’m genuinely excited for you to see this.” You told him as the ads finished, signaling the start of the movie.

“I am, too.” He smiled over at you one last time before the movie truly began. It was only a few minutes into the film when you shifted to lean in Harrison’s side. After the initial shock of your movement, Harrison wrapped an arm around your waist so that you could fall easily into his side while you watched the movie play out. Halfway through the film, he felt you shiver a little and quickly handed you his jacket. He smiled to himself, happy that he definitely did at least one thing right, as you thanked him for the warm jacket.

Sharing snacks with you throughout the movie, he found himself truly enjoying it. He could see how it was your favorite film, how you loved the featured song so much that it was your favorite song. He couldn’t help but acknowledge how it was a film all about second chances, or really just multiple chances with the same person over and over again until they both finally got it right. His history with you may not have been exactly like the film, but he felt like it still resonated; he wondered if you chose the movie completely on accident or if you had remembered about that first conversation, if you had thought of it as similar to your current situation.

His overthinking wasn’t done there though. As he drove you back to your place after the movie concluded, you two discussed the movie (this time with actually understanding who Meg Ryan is). He was a little dazed as he talked, trying to think of how to end the night. Would it be too forward if he kissed you? Because truth be told, he’d wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you all those years ago. When he pulled up to your house, he was happy to see you still casually wearing his jacket. He didn’t want the night to end, especially considering he still hadn’t really apologized for four years ago, still hadn’t explained himself for what happened at the party, still hadn’t explicitly told you about the mesmerizing effect you had over him.

“Well, thank you for tonight. It was nice.” You spoke up with a smile.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded, feeling himself start to choke up. He’d made it almost two hours without becoming speechless in front of you, and now at the end of the night, perhaps when it mattered most, he couldn’t speak. You waited a moment before getting out of his car, almost like you were expecting him to say something more. He watched your retreating figure, your right hand shoved deep into his jacket’s pockets. It hit him all at once; you were nervous, you were wearing his jacket, you were walking away from him again. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Wait!” Harrison rushed out of his car and hurried up the driveway to you on the porch. As you stood there in front of him, looking at him intently, his nerves came racing back to him, but he had to say the words. ‘It’s now or never’, he told himself.

“Okay, this is four years overdue, but here it goes.” He started with a small sigh, “I know you think I didn’t show the night I was supposed to meet you at the carnival, but I did. You were standing at the front gate. You were wearing a light blue babydoll dress with dandelions on it and a jean jacket, but the right pocket was ripped because you always used to shove your first in there when you got nervous.” You slowly looked down at your right hand, nervously in the jacket’s pocket. Speechless, you listened to him continuing on. 

“You were pacing back and forth that night and waited around for almost an hour before you walked away. And you were on the phone to someone when you walked away, telling them that you wore that dress so that it would match my eyes.” Harrison paused, swallowing down his nerves, “I was so nervous, I choked. And you know what, that hardly ever happens to me, but the truth is, Y/N, I think I liked you too much, and somewhere in the back of my head, I knew what that night would mean, and even how my life could be different now if I hadn’t let you walk away, but this a different moment, and- and it’s a chance to make a different choice.” He felt himself starting to choke up again, “And you’re really amazing, and I know we can’t go back in time, but I wish that there was some way-”

Harrison’s words were cut short as you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Though he was incredibly stunned by the fact that you kissed him, his arms went to your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed you back passionately. The kiss ended all too quickly for him when you stopped it for air.

“Definitely four years overdue.” You smiled at him. If he wasn’t breathless already from the passionate kiss, your smile just his breath away even more.

“Thank you for giving me another chance. I really didn’t want to mess any of this up.” He admitted.

“Well, the letter was so sweet, I couldn’t say no.” You leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled back from the kiss though with wide eyes.

“What letter?” He asked.

“The one that you wrote? About me being the prettiest girl in school and how you were there when I thought you stood me up?” You explained, and his cheeks grew red in embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He groaned, “I wrote that just so I could apologize to you at the party and to tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t mean to say you’re like Medusa- I just meant that you’re-” You cut him off with another kiss.

“You talk too much sometimes.” You laughed.

“I can get used to getting cut off like that.” Harrison smiled at you, kissing you again.

He may be mad at Tom for sending that private speech, but Harrison got the girl in the end so maybe his friend wasn’t the worst wingman ever.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 06

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: SMUT  🍋  🍋  🍋 and cursing.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce’s plans.

 A/N: Hello!

I have to tell that a part of this chapter was inspired by the illustration posted here on Tumblr. It’s canon to me that Bryce would flirt with MC pretending he’s a stranger, and not a single soul will change my mind.

Hope you enjoy the chapter, that’s, like, 70% NS*W. You have no idea how much I struggled to write this one 🥵 . He’s so fucking hot and this fucking virus doesn’t let me have booty calls and, well, you know what I mean, the abstinence is killing me, so I have to live vicariously through Eleanor to have some action in my life lol.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable  @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @aylamreads​ @binny1985​ 

Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist!

___________

 Chapter 6: Cool.

I like us better when we’re intertwined

The way you touch me got me losin’ my senses

Eleanor woke up the next day with a big smile on her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she woke up that happy, but surely, it’d been months. Enthusiastically, she got up from her bed to start the day. Once she was all cleaned and dressed, she went to the kitchen, where Elijah and Sienna were making breakfast. As she started to have breakfast, her friends bombarded her with questions about her absence the night before. After teasing them with evasive answers, she finally told them what had happened, and that she and Bryce were dating.

Sienna couldn’t resist an over-excited reaction and Elijah looked really happy for both of his friends. For Eleanor, who had been suffering too much because of Ramsey, and for Bryce, because he knew how much he cared for Eleanor, and how much he had been doing to make her happy.  

Once the three of them were ready for another day of work, they headed to Edenbrook.

The moment their eyes met in the locker room that morning, there were sparkles just like the night before. Eleanor was feeling a little shy and nervous, as it always happens when a relationship starts, but even if Bryce was a million light-years over the moon, he cared to not make Eleanor feel uncomfortable, pressured, or overwhelmed. Just when Eleanor agreed, he planted a chaste kiss on her lips when he approached her to say hi. Even if she was feeling a little weird, after the kiss she felt relieved, calmed. She still couldn’t understand what power had Bryce over her.

Just as what happened that morning, things started to develop at Eleanor’s pace. At first, Eleanor didn’t feel comfortable enough to display too much affection in public, but as the days went by, she started to not mind that Bryce would steal a kiss from her lips or her cheek when they would bump into each other at the hospital; or that when they were at Donahue’s, Bryce would almost always put an arm around her when they were sitting together. In fact, after a week, she would find herself craving for those kisses or his touch.

One day, Eleanor was at the Nurse Station doing some paperwork, when suddenly someone approached her and said:

“Hey, I’m Bryce.”

Eleanor looked up. He was leaning on the desk with his statuesque figure and his usual flirtatious, megawatt smile.

“Hello, I’m Eleanor.” She answered, trying to look serious.

“Nice to meet you. You work here?”

“Yeah.”

“Since when? I haven’t seen you around”

“Mmm, about a year”

“Really? And how the hell I’ve been missing this angel from heaven?”

Eleanor laughed

“So smooth"—She muttered to herself—"Maybe the devil got you distracted.”

Bryce smiled knowingly.

“How are you, beautiful?”

“Good”—She smiled— “And better now that I see your smile.”

“Seriously?”

Eleanor blushed. She didn’t even think about it for a single moment before speaking from her heart, but she had no regrets. Being able to surprise him with her own feelings, and seeing him out of place without having anything flirty to say, was a divine gift. 

She had been overanalyzing her feelings over the last few days, wondering if she should tell him how she felt or not, fearing that her words could confuse him, but finally had decided that she wouldn’t hide how she was feeling about him. After all, the only way Bryce could be feeling sure about her choosing him was hearing it explicitly from her mouth. Other than that, everything she says was part of the development of their relationship.

”Seriously.— She confessed.—I was missing you.”

“Damn, if I was feeling fantastic seeing you, I’m gonna burst hearing you say that.”

Eleanor knew it wasn’t an exaggeration. Bryce had a giant smile on his face, and she could see the emotion and stars blinding his eyes.

“Don’t burst please, just contain yourself so I can keep seeing you, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.”

“I was missing you too.”

Eleanor smiled at him tenderly for a few seconds, then she looked back at the folder in her hands, trying to finish it soon. As she felt that Bryce continued to stare at her without saying anything, Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“Why you keep looking at me, weirdo?”

“Oh, sorry."—He replied, looking a bit uncomfortable. ”I-“

“Do you even work here or are you some kind of psycho who likes to watch interns doing their job?”

Bryce relaxed as he noticed Eleanor had been teasing him. It seemed that what Eleanor had told him, had caught him really off guard.

“Well, I do work here.—He replied, regaining composure— Don’t you see this surgical scrubs?

“Yeah, but you could get them anywhere as a disguise to your stalker hobby.”

Bryce chuckled.

“That’s true.”—He conceded—"Why don’t we go somewhere more… private… so I can demonstrate to you that I really work here?”

“What the hell, you just met me like 2 minutes ago and you wanna go somewhere private already?”

Bryce laughed, surprised

“Damn, I guess that was very bold.”

“Yes, but I like that, Dr. Bryce …?”

“Lahela”

“I like that, Dr. Lahela, and even if my mum taught me to not talk to strangers or go anywhere with them,  I’ll join you once I finish with this paperwork.”

“Perfect. You know where to find me”—He murmured before walking out toward their favorite supply closet.

Once Eleanor was ready, she headed to the meeting point.

“Well then, Dr. Lahela, how are you going to show me you work here?”—She asked entering the room. Bryce approached her instantly, pressing her against the wall.

“I’m a surgical intern, which means I have magic hands. So…”—He took her by the hips to bring her closer to his body until they were a few inches apart. Both felt a lack of air the moment their eyes met. There was hunger in his eyes, and Bryce could say Eleanor’s mouth was thirsty of his kisses as she was slicking her tongue over her lower lip and then she gulped.

He tilted his head and began to short the distance slowly, until he captured her lips, a few gentle brushes first, just to savor her avidly after that. Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck, converting the kiss in a voracious exchange of hidden desires.

In a matter of seconds, Bryce gripped her leg to his waist, and with his free hand encircled her waist to bring her incredibly tight, her bodies flushed. He soon moved his kisses to her cheek, then down her jaw and neck. At the feeling of his lips brushing her sensitive spot, Eleanor was invaded with goosebumps that made angle her head back involuntarily. Seeing his provocations were well received, Bryce started to rock his hips slowly to her core.

“Bryce”—She sighed when she felt a hand wandering under her scrubs, touching the skin of her back.

“Yeah?”

She pulled him away gently, biting her lower lip. Bryce took his hand away and loosed the grip on her hip.

“Elle, sorry I…”

“No, it’s not that—She assured, her face colored with heat, her chest pounding faster.—I… I want you to keep going, but not here.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I know we used to do it here before, but just for this occasion, I would like some normality, if you know what I mean.”

Bryce chuckled.

“Of course, Elle. I’d like that too.”

“So… My place, yours?”

“My place. Had to be tomorrow, though. I’m on a 24-hour shift.”

“Okay, that’s fine by me.”

They stared at each other, Bryce looking a bit hesitant to kiss her again, as things could get out of control if they keep kissing. Eleanor didn’t mind and brought her lips to his. The way he kissed her always left her craving for more, so she wouldn’t waste another second without having him.

He wrapped her waist and swapped positions, now he was against the wall and started to slide down, and Eleanor followed him until Bryce was sitting on the floor and Eleanor was sitting over his lap, her legs straddling him.

“Which part of ‘not here’ neither of us understood?”—Eleanor asked, playfully stroking his hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my word. I can deal with the self-control but only until tomorrow night.”

Eleanor resumed the kiss. The heat, the anticipation was irresistible, so she couldn’t help but move her hips softly against Bryce, feeling his bulge pressing her core.

“Elle”—He sighed—“I'll keep my word but…” He couldn’t finish. He placed both hands impatiently in her ass, his skin was aching just to feel it between his fingers.

“I can’t wait for tomorrow”—She sighed as she felt his tongue and then his teeth in the crook of her neck, and his hand all over her back and hips, like he was losing his mind in the touch of her skin.

“Me neither, but we’ll have to”

“Yeah, hope time flies.”

After a few moments of sweet torture, Bryce pulled away slightly to look at her in the eyes.

“I’ve got an idea, but that means to prolong our own agony.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s go dancing? We have done almost everything but go clubbing.”

“Oooooh, yes! I’ve been thinking about it too, love the idea.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Yes, and after that, we go to your apartment to finish this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice”

The next day Eleanor walked toward the Atrium fully dressed in a clubbing mood, feeling like it has been ages since she was dressed like that. A tiny black leather skirt that covered sufficiently her bum and tights with a red lace tank top that defined the curves of her waist with almost surgical precision, and over it, a matched leather jacket. Bryce was waiting for her in a multicolored shirt with a black cardigan on her hands.

The moment she was in front of him, he didn’t even conceal the hungriness in his eyes.

“Shit. I don’t know if I can take you out to dance dressed like that.”

“Oh, come on, let me have this put on for at least an hour, then you can take it off me at your please.”

“Damn Eleanor, you’re wild tonight”

“I’m in a clubbing outfit, Bryce. When I’m dressed like this, I’m a hoe, so get used to it.”

“But you’ll only be a hoe with me, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be your hoe tonight”

“Oh, crap, let’s go already before I drag you to my apartment.”—He complained, taking her by the hand.

After a short uber ride, they sauntered into a colorful nightclub, loud music already beating. Some hip hop and Latin hits. The fact that the club had Latin hits, was a special request by Eleanor, due that she enjoyed dancing reggaeton because of her Latin roots. After a few shots, Eleanor felt the music took control of her body, so she held Bryce by the hand and guide him into the middle of the crowd, moving her hips to the sexy Latin song that was playing. Bryce followed suit and placed a hand on her hip.

“It will always amaze me how well you dance, really”—She whispered in his ear.

Bryce kept pace with her, even though sometimes they would only mock and overact some moves just to end up laughing and kissing passionately.  

After ten minutes of dancing, Eleanor was feeling the heat after realizing that dancing was foreplay for what was next. The way Bryce was moving his hips, the way he was touching her skin, roaming her hips, her waist, and how he pressed her back against his chest, was being the sexiest foreplay they could’ve ever done that night.

Eleanor was feeling the anticipation, the desperation to touch his body, to feel his mouth against every inch of her skin. And Bryce wasn’t thinking any differently.

Half an hour later, they were all sweated. But that just made them look even sexier. Eleanor gave him a heated, sloppy kiss, while Con Calma from Daddy Yankee was invading the dancefloor. She started to move her hips incessantly, then she turned her back to him seductively. Bryce pulled her by the waist, her body flush against his chest, and whispered in her ear:

“You moving like that is going me crazy”—Then he kissed the crook of her neck while one hand was wandering over her breasts and the other at her hips and tights not minding they were in a public space. Eleanor shuddered then turned back to him, and kissed him again, this time hard.

"Let’s go to your apartment."—She said in a husky murmur.—"I’m done with this foreplay.”

Bryce looked at her with such hungriness, that neither of them could suppress the desire for each other as if the world was about to end. Bryce lowered his hand past her hips, to caress her butt under her skirt, and grabbed it with both hands.

“Hey, someone’s eager”

“Can you tell?”—He whispered as he rocked his hips against hers.

Eleanor felt his bulge for the first time and didn’t even hesitate before put hand subtly over his pants, caressing him while feeling how it tightened at her touch.

“Fuck, Eleanor”—He groaned in her ear.

“I can’t wait to have it in my hands, in my mouth.” She whispered in a sultry voice.

“Oh, come on, let’s go”—He commanded, taking her by the hand. He practically dragged her through the dancefloor. In a matter of minutes, they had collected their clothes from the wardrobe and gotten a taxi.

It was the longest trip of their lives, between trying to take their hands off each other to not put a scene on the taxi; and trying to conceal the panting in their breaths, while the clothes were itching in their bodies, and the dirty words said were resonating in their minds.

When they reached the elevator in the building, Bryce took her cheeks and kissed her hard.

“Finally. I don’t know if I could’ve handled another minute”—He said, his voice sultry.

“Neither do I”—She replied, tugging his hair tightly.

When they reached the floor, he pushed her down the hall without parting lips, not even when they got to the door. Bryce opened it up almost blindly. They stepped inside, Bryce slamming the door shut while pulling Eleanor against the door, devouring her lips ravenously, drinking from her skin in every inch he caressed with his lips.

“Fuck yes”—She sighed. Bryce took her jacket off. He observed her lace tank top.

“Finally I can get rid of this sinful piece of fabric that’s been bothering me the whole night”—He said while cupping her breast tightly.

“You’ll have to wait a bit more”—She murmured, the moment she started to slid her hands over his torso, his muscles taut under his clothes. She removed his cardigan and shirt in one motion, leaving her torso bare. She watched him carefully, hungrily a few seconds, before began to kiss him all over his chest, pecs, and nipples.

“Eleanor”—Bryce shuddered at her touch, feeling her hands on his chest and her tongue stimulating his nipples. He smiled at the fact she remembered how much he loved this.  

"God, I wanted this so …"—She whispered as she left a trail of kisses all over his torso—"So much.”  

Feeling a bit dizzy, Bryce took her face and led her to his mouth. A dance of lips and tongues that became more and more ferocious, thirsty, needy. They needed more flesh, more heat, more pleasure. Bryce unzipped her skirt and pulled it down in a blink. In the next, his hands were skimming her ass with his hands expertly, while licking and biting the crook of her neck, just to finally slip his finger middle in her wet core. She moaned at his touch, cursing him. He just chuckled.

Then, he resumed his task, sliding his lips to the junction of her breasts, removing the annoying top in a single movement. When he intended to get rid of her bra, he stopped in his tracks, stunned at the look of her figure deliciously adorned in garnet-laced lingerie. He gasped when he met her eyes and found she was looking at him as if she knew how gloriously she looked that night. That self-assured look, that wasn’t recurrent in her, made his heart skip.

“God, you’re the most beautiful creation of the universe.”

“After you?”

“No. Top spot.”

“Wow, now that’s a compliment, Johnny Bravo.”

They both laughed and kissed tenderly.

“I wanna taste every inch of you”—He muffled after a few seconds, biting her ear.

“What are you waiting for?”

He brought his lips to her neck, first sliding soft kisses until he finally opened his mouth and began to bite her. Eleanor tugged his hair at the sensation in her sensitive spot. Bryce moved his hands to her back, unclasping her bra and tossing it to the ground. He massaged both breasts with his soft hands, just to then capture her nipples with his mouth, tasting and drinking the sweetness of her skin, of her pleasure.

“Holy fuck, yes”—She whimpered, feeling an electric shock waving to her core.

Suddenly, Eleanor felt a rush of pleasure in her sex. She opened her eyes just to find that Bryce had reached under her panties and was working on her sweet spot delicately.

“Oh God, Bryce”

“Ya like that?

The panties fell to the floor, his hands still rubbing her core, while her legs began to shake. She brought one leg up to Bryce’s hip to hold on him.

“Yes. Fuck, yes, just like… Ahhh”—She moaned as his finger pick up speed—“Bryce!”

“Yes, I love when you cry my name, babe, I wanna hear you.”

“Br… Fff... ”—But she couldn’t say anything.

Eleanor closed her eyes, completely overwhelmed with the sensations on her body. 

"Look at me"—He ordered, serious.

Eleanor obeyed and looked at Bryce, who was staring at her hungrily as he continued to work on her clit.

"Bryce…” —She sighed, incapable to take her eyes off him, hypnotized. As if a magnet attracted her gaze to Bryce’s eyes, who had a serious and excited look that she had never seen before.

Suddenly he parted from her and started to kiss her shoulders, her chest, her abdomen until he reached the origin of her ecstasy. She felt his tongue gently caressing her clit, then devouring her folds eagerly.

“Ohmygod, Bryce”—She moaned, pulling his hair with both hands, completely desperate.

"Bryce, fuck…"—Her legs began to tremble incessantly, her strength leaving her body— "I’m gonna fall …”

In one swift motion, Bryce stood up, took her in his arms and laid her down on the couch that was a few feets away; and got on his knees. He took her tights gently in his arms to supported them on his shoulders, then he leaned to her sex, and began to move his head and tongue in circles, and then in lines, alternating the rhythm and intensity of the touch.

“Mmmm. You taste so good”—He sighed.

Eleanor looked down and realized that Bryce was staring at her, all focused on her pleasure. She stroked the strands of hair that fell in his forehead, and then rested a hand on his head, tugging his hair gently as she guided a pace, while with the other hand she tried to keep balance on the couch.

“Bryce”—She whimpered. Bryce huffed against her folds, making Eleanor pant at the vibrations in her clit. Then he took both hands to her breasts and started to massage and grip her nipples. Eleanor started to move her hips involuntarily. She was close to her climax.

“Give it to me, baby”—Bryce whispered, parting from her core just a second, and then he introduced two fingers in her center while licking her clit with the tip of his tongue quickly.

Eleanor couldn’t hold it anymore

“Yes, Bryce, FUCK YES!”—She groaned loudly, from the depths of her core, convulsing on the couch to finally vanishing into thin air. 

She had reached a limit never before explored, which immersed her into a cloud of pleasure that caused her to float peacefully. Her head was spinning, losing track of time and space, feeling like she was floating in a sky full of pastel tones and sweet scents. It was warm and quiet. 

She still could feel his tongue in her, getting every bit of her juices, savoring it like it was the most precious nectar, causing her a soft but pleasant sensation.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself being carried by Bryce like a koala bear to his room.

 He placed her in the bed, delicately. She tried to narrow her eyes in Bryce’s direction, but it was still very blurry. She could tell, however, that he was taking off her pants, leaving only his underwear, and then he lunged to her side.

“Fuck”—She sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

"Umh? Nothing, just…"—She said, turning her face towards him, unable to look at him.

Bryce giggled

“What, you still haven’t come back?”

“No, I’m still floating somewhere… in a warm pink sky, near a black hole, probably.”

“Oof, I was that good, uh?”

"Good it’s an understatement"—She sighed.

Bryce rejoiced in the sight of Eleanor still with the effects of the orgasm. While she was regaining clarity, he turned to her, leaning on his elbow, to observe every inch of her exposed skin. He slid his fingertips on his favorite spots; her thighs, her hips, her waist, her breasts, her shoulders, and finally her soft little hands. 

After a couple of minutes, Eleanor turned to him, exposing the curve of her waist even deeper. Bryce couldn’t help but grab her by the waist and pull her closer to his body.

“What kind of magic was that?”

“So advanced, that You-Know-Who would be jealous.”

Eleanor laughed hard. Then, she moved even closer to Bryce, sharing the warmth of their bodies. She kissed him sweetly while pushing him back onto the bed, laying on top of him. Soon, she brought her kisses to his neck, his sweet scent lusciously provocative made her more thirsty. Then she followed down his chest, his taut abdomen muscles feeling warm; until she reached the edge of his hips. She got to her knees in the middle of the bed and helped him remove his boxer. She caressed his exposed skin a few seconds, and then she leaned over him again, continuing the kisses on his hips, thighs, and then around his length. She felt his tension, the anticipation to feel her mouth in his sweet spot.

Eleanor sat back for a moment to stare at Bryce, the erotism of his figure was difficult to avoid. Bryce was serious but hungry, his expression a bit affected because of the anticipation. His naked body, with his erection not yet full, was a sight that exceeded all the dirty expectations she had had about Bryce in the last few days. 

“Not for nothing all I’ve gotten on my mind since I left the supply closet was you, and the thought of eating you out tonight.”

“You have gotten incredibly good at dirty talk, what happened?”

“You.”

Eleanor wet her lips and leaned again into his crotch. She took his length with both hands and kissed the tip, first slowly and delicately, until it entered in her mouth, gaining more shape inside her. With the help of her hand, he began to stimulate the base, while with his mouth and tongue she drew circles on the tip

"God, Eleanor…"—He growled between groans—"You’re amazing.”

“Mmmm—She huffed, completely focused on him.

After a few moments, Bryce tugged her hair softly

“I want you, babe. Come with me.”

Eleanor got on her knees and watched him carefully lying on the bed, his face a little sweaty and excited. She approached him slowly, leaving her lips millimeters from him.

“I want you too. Since yesterday, and even before that.”

She kissed him. Suddenly Bryce grabbed her hips and sat her on his lap, her legs straddling him. Eleanor was surprised by his unexpectedness but smiled provocatively.

“I like it when you grow impatient.”

“I’ve been too patient, in fact.”

He kissed her hard, and after founding her entry, he pushed himself inside her. They both shuddered.

“Oh my god, yes”

“Finally”—He sighed with relief.

Eleanor began to move over him, guided by the grip of him in her hips. After a while, they parted briefly so Bryce could sit against the headboard of his bed. Once Eleanor straddled him, they kissed again, this time like desperate animals, as if each other were water and they hadn’t had a drop for days. The desperation growing inside them was primal. Eleanor lifted her hips over Bryce’s crotch, faster and faster. After a few moments, they both began to moan, their breaths colliding between kisses.

“Ohh, Bryce, you feel so fucking good inside me.”

Without warning, Bryce shifted his hands to her ass and gave her a loudly slap, causing Eleanor unexpected waves of pleasure inside her.

“Oooh fuck, yes”—She whimpered, her thrusts increasing swiftly.

“You like it?”

“Y-yes, yes, so much”

Bryce did it again, this time harder.

“Oh God, you feel amazing, Elle."—He groaned deep, sweat droplets starting to trickle down his face.

Eleanor cleared his face, then pulled him close to kiss him hard. They parted when the sensations began to consume them and their bodies began to shake.

"Ohh, ohh, yes!—She moaned, arching her back.

Bryce captured a nipple in his mouth, bringing her over the edge. She cried out his name desperately, her muscles squeezing hard, making Bryce obtain his own release seconds after.

They both found themselves in the middle of that ecstasy. Although orgasms feel different for each person, somehow they both felt like they reached exactly the same climax. Because the same cloud lulled them, and the same warmth sheltered them. Maybe the pink sky Eleanor mentioned before, rested on Bryce’s mind, making his heaven look just like hers.

Eleanor rested her forehead against his, her breathing ragged, their faces glistening with sweat. Bryce hurled himself onto the bed, taking Eleanor with him, propping her up on his lap.

"Shit"—He gasped a few minutes later when he regained some breath.

Eleanor pulled away, all sweaty and sticky, and lunged to his side, still gasping for air.

“That was… Wow. I’m glad we didn’t do it in the supply closet”—She sighed, pure satisfaction in her voice and face.

“This 36-hours waiting did worth it.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if I can handle it again.”

“There’s no need now, we both kept our promise to wait till this moment, and now that we made it…”

“Thank you for understanding and for waiting.”

“Nah, I wanted it that way too, even if yesterday seemed otherwise.”

Eleanor leaned to kiss him softly. They both cuddle in the middle of the bed until they went for the inevitable second round.

  ______

Chapter 7.

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Neighbourhood Barbecues

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Summary: Its been a rough couple of months for him so he returns home at the plea of his mother and gets reunited with a distant friend from school

Requested: It won the vote so I guess it kinda was 

Warnings: Swearing, it’s also excessively long so I figured that deserves a warning as well

A/N: I’m actually really happy with this one, I loved writing it and that’s probably why it’s as long as it is. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! This is another fic it would be cool to do spin-off blurbs for so if you have any spin-off requests then just let me know! Please remember to let me know what you think, if you liked it then please reblog or comment or send me an ask telling me so, I love hearing from you guys, getting those messages honestly make my day :)

Calum regretted coming.

If it wasn’t for the facts that he’d promised his friend he’d make an appearance and that he’d already rung the doorbell and that his arm was aching from the beer he had brought, he would have scarpered.

He figured he’d suffer through awkward conversations with old acquaintances for a bit and try to ignore the fact that most of them were just showing an interest in him because of his fame and then hang out by the food table and make use of the fact the food was free and so was the alcohol being provided.

And then he’d return home and find a new Netflix series to start binging and there he’d try and ignore his mother’s disappointed eyes on him.

God, she would be disappointed in him. 

She had been so excited when Calum had said he was going to a barbecue today. He had been trapped inside the house almost the whole time he had been home so her excitement at his plans was understandable. He knew how worried his mother had been about him recently. He didn’t want her to hurt anymore than she already was.

He supposed he could stretch the awkward socialising from an hour and a half to two hours, just to keep his mum happy.

“Hey! Caleb said you’d be coming!” The smile on the woman’s face was wide and Calum desperately tried to place her, knowing that she must have been someone he went to high school with.

“Yeah, hi - he said it’d be fine if I came along?” He offered awkwardly.

“Yeah, course it is, Calum!” Yeah, he should definitely know who she was judging by her familiar tone of voice. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Who is it, bro?” Another voice called from the hallway and the woman who Calum assumed to be the hostess of the barbecue turned around to grin at the other woman who was walking down the hallway, a bottle of beer in her hand.

“Calum - you remember Calum right?”

“How could I forget Calum! He once kicked a football at my head,” this woman he recognised.

She looked different from the last time he saw her - though that was understandable considering that they had last seen each other in high school. She wad a little taller than before, held herself with more sureness but the smile on her face was the same, as were her eyes.

Yeah, perhaps she was difference appearance-wise but her mannerisms remained the same.

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Not until I get pay back and kick you in the head with a football,” Y/N assured him, placing her arm around the hostess’ shoulders. “I came to tell you that Rowen decided he’s a real man and so he’s in charge of the barbecue. I figured you should know before... you know, the house burnt down or something.”

“Fucking hell, again?” The other woman groaned, turning back to Calum. “Make yourself at home, Cal - it’s nice to see you again.” Y/N’s eyes fell onto Calum as her friend walked away, a  half smile tugged at her lips.

“Admittedly it’s probably my fault - I’m on Rowen duty today but sometimes it’s just so funny to watch him when he’s pissed.” Calum was surprised by the laugh that her words caused in his chest.

“He still can’t handle his alcohol?” Calum asked in disbelief.

He remembered Rowen from high school - he was the life and soul of most of the parties held once their year group had discovered alcohol. Rowen was famous in school for being a complete lightweight and not giving a shit about it, and it was comforting to know that nothing had changed.

“I think he’s actually worse than before,” Y/N confided, turning to walk back through the house. She paused when she realised Calum wasn’t following and looked over her shoulder at him, eyebrows raised. “You coming? I mean, I know we kinda annoyed you in high school but I promise we’re not quite as insufferable anymore.”

“You didn’t annoy me in high school,” Calum protested, following Y/N into the house.

“Dude, we pissed off everyone. We were all so fu-hecking annoying but we’re slightly less so now.” Y/N scoffed.

“’Hecking’?” Calum quoted, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh right - yeah, these barbecues are a no-swearing zone. Didn’t Caleb warn you?” Calum shook his head and Y/N let out a breath. “You have been gone a while, Hood - a lot’s changed since you got too good for us small towners.” 

“That’s not what happened,” Calum immediately said and Y/N let out a loud laugh that Calum wanted to join in with.

“I’m joking, Cal.”

“So... you say a lots happened - fill me in,” Calum insisted as they moved out into the garden of the woman’s house, filled with the familiar smell of barbecue food.

Y/N led Calum over to the table of drinks for him to deposit his beers down on.

“Well... that’s the reason over there that we’re a no-swearing zone,” Y/N nodded over to the other side of the garden.

A man he vaguely recognised was over there holding a toddler in his arms as he chatted with some friends - Caleb included.

“One of your lot has a kid?” Calum asked and Y/N nodded in confirmation, tipping her beer bottle up and finishing it off, throwing it into the trug being used as a bin and getting herself another one, seeing Calum’s look she scoffed.

“It’s my second, Cal, don’t worry,” she picked up a bottle opener and Calum picked up his own bottle, holding it out for her to take the top off of. “But, yeah, Alistair had a kid - she’s two years old and the sweetest child in the world. Her mum, however, is a complete bitch who we don’t talk about,” Y/N filled in and Calum nodded.

“Okay so... what else is new, then?” Y/N looked at him with cocked eyebrows. “Come on, I don’t care about you judging me for being so out of touch with the people I went to high school with but I don’t want all of them to think I’m a complete arsehole.” 

Y/N watched him for a minute with a level gaze before nodding.

“Alright - well, I can’t imagine this coming up in conversation but Rowen is asexual and aromantic, a new thing. He cried when he told us and his parents weren’t best pleased either so it’s still a bit of a touchy subject anyway-”

“Why did his parents care?”

“Oh, none of us know. Rowen doesn’t either but hey ho, his parents always were dicks.”

“I thought it was a no swearing zone,” Calum deadpanned and Y/N raised her middle finger at him.

“Kind of an important one, actually but, you know...” Y/N gestured at the woman who was hosting the barbecue who was stood at the barbecue with the rather drunk person who Calum assumed to be Rowen.

“Yeah - I can’t remember her name, though,” he admitted a little sheepishly.

“Good - that’ll serve you well. They came out as non-binary a few years ago and while they’d understand you getting it wrong because you haven’t seen them since, try and make an effort?” Y/N suggested and Calum nodded, guilt flooding him from the assumption he had made. “Hey, don’t worry, Cal, you’re not the first one and you will make an effort so Charlie - that’s what their name is now - will be understanding.”

“Y/N!” The woman looked away from Calum and towards Alistair who was calling her.

“Yeah?”

“Can you watch her for a moment?” He requested, approaching her and Calum. Caleb was behind him, clearly only now noticing that Calum had arrived and he raised his hand in hello before walking towards Charlie and Rowen, clapping his hand on Rowen’s shoulder and Calum could hear him let out a loud laugh.

“Of course I can!” Y/N beamed, handing Calum her beer, who took it so that Y/N could take the young girl from her father. “Heya, sweetheart, you look exhausted,” Y/N chuckled. The young girl nodded tiredly against Y/N’s body.

“Who’s that?” She mumbled, her eyes only half open and fixed on Calum.

“That’s Calum - he’s a friend from school and he’s back in town for a little while.”

“C-Ca-Cal.” The girl struggled to say his name and Calum felt a smile come to his lips.

“Just Cal is fine, buddy - what’s your name?” He crouched down a little to be more on eye-level with the small girl.

“Emma,” she mumbled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You know, Em, Cal’s really talented,” Y/N stated and Calum had to restrain himself from letting out a sigh, having reserved a slight hope at the back of his mind that Y/N wasn’t going to bring up the band and hark on his ‘talents’. He was having a nicer time than he had expected talking with his old distant school friend. He didn’t want it to be ruined now.

“Why?”

“Cal used to play football for the school team.”

“With Uncle Caleb?” Emma asked, her head perking up in interest.

“Yeah, that’s how we all met Cal, through Caleb.” Y/N confirmed.

“And I was in some of your classes.”

“Yeah but you only started talking to us because you made friends with Caleb on the team,” Y/N pointed out and Calum gave a conceding nod of his head.

“Where?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, her attention returning to Emma, who was reaching a little for Calum. He placed their drinks down and took Emma from Y/N’s arms.

“Where?” She insisted.

“Where has he been?” Y/N offered and Emma nodded, curling up closer to Calum, her eyes drooping tiredly.

“I’m in a band, Emma.”

“A band?” 

“Yeah - we go touring so I left Australia a while ago which is why I’m... never here.” 

“But he’ll be coming to our barbecues, right Cal?” Y/N said, grinning at the bassist. 

“What?”

“This is a weekly thing, Cal,” Y/N laughed. “Come on, Caleb must have told you.”

“I guess he mentioned something.”

“So you’ll come, right? Next week it’s at Rowen’s? He probably won’t be quite as drunk.”

“I - uh - I don’t have his address.” Calum mentioned and, truthfully, that was the only thing he was thinking about.

Because he’d spent half an hour with these people - with Y/N and her friends. And it was like he was back in high school, with nothing more to worry about than just one friend being a lightweight, than thinking of a funny comeback to a friends response. 

It was the first time since leaving high school that he’d felt truly normal. Surrounded by people like Y/N. People like Caleb, Charlie, Rowen, Alistair and little Emma. Their other friends who he hadn’t yet managed to speak to.

“I’ll text it to you, Cal - and Emma will bring her trainers and you and Caleb can continue her football lessons.”

Yeah, Calum reckoned he could manage a few more barbecues.

///

“Calum! No way man! When did you arrive back in town?” Calum was surprised by the hug Rowen brought him into. 

“Ro, dude, seriously how pissed were you last week?” Alistair asked, raising his hand at Calum from behind Rowen in the hallway.

“Were you at Charlie’s barbecue as well?” Rowen asked in shock, furrowing his brow as he tried to remember.

“Yeah, we actually had a very similar conversation and hug last week as well. It’s still good to see you again, though,” Calum told him, a smile on his face. Rowen stood back and allowed Calum to enter into his house. “You doing alright, Alistair?” 

“Not bad, Calum. Yourself?”

“Yeah I’m good, thanks.”

And it was true. For the first time in a while, Calum was actually feeling good. He felt normal. At Charlie’s barbecue Y/N and Calum had exchanged numbers and they had been texting almost all week, about irrelevant things. It had started with Y/N sending him a photo of a dog she had seen on a run in the park that she thought he’d appreciate the photo. It had sparked a conversation and Calum found himself smiling more than before.

The day after the dog photo Y/N had added him to a WhatsApp group chat. She had texted him immediately after, apologising because she had realised she forgot to ask him if he wanted to be added. He didn’t mind at all, it was the only group chat other than the one with his bandmates that he hadn’t muted.

It was almost constantly going and it had taken a couple of days with Y/N encouraging him for him to get in the swing of writing responses.

“Wait - are you on the group chat?” Rowen asked, following Alistair and Calum through his own house. Calum and Alistair looked at each other in evident amusement and Alistair chuckled, shaking his head.

“Come on, man. Y/N has been waiting for you to turn up so that you can take her place in ‘football training’,” Alistair informed him, clapping his hand onto Calum’s shoulder in a friendly gesture and Calum’s heart soared at the mention of Y/N looking forward to see him.

“Oh - about that! I remembered Y/N saying that Emma was into football? And I saw what you were saying on the chat about, y’know, getting her some actual boots?” Calum said awkwardly.

“Oh, Calum-”

“No, no, man... I was just looking through some of my old stuff and I found my first pair of football boots and so I know they’re not much and it’s a kinda crappy gift but...” Calum reached into the bag he found and brought them out as an awkward offering. Alistair looked between Calum and the football boots before nodding.

“If you’re sure then... that’d be great... Emma’ll love them.” 

“Okay, uh, cool,” Calum smiled and put the boots back in the bag to pass to Alistair.

“Go give them to her,” Alistair laughed, shaking his head a little. “I’m going to get some beers from the fridge - you want one?”

“Yeah - oh, can you put these in the fridge for me, then?” He asked, holding up the box of beers he had brought with him.

The moment that he stepped outside he felt his heart flood with instant relief, he felt free upon entering Rowen’s garden, surrounded by his new friends. Especially when he caught sight of Y/N. She was running around with Emma and Caleb. Emma was in a swimming costume and a pair of armbands, Caleb in a pair of trunks and Y/N was in a bikini and a pair of shorts, a flannel shirt unbuttoned adorned her shoulders and a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose.

The three of them were barefoot, kicking a football around, Caleb and Y/N taking it in turns to help Emma and ensure she didn’t stumble and fall.

“Cal!” Emma changed course quickly and Calum laughed, dropping his things to the floor to accomidate her rushing towards him.

“You made it!” Caleb cheered.

“I did,” Calum agreed, sweeping Emma up.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Y/N said, her tone a little soft and Calum wished she would take off her sunglasses so he could see her eyes.

An hour later, when food was being served up, Calum joined Y/N by the edge of Rowen’s pool, sitting down with his own legs dangling over the edge and into the cool water. Y/N looked over at him and offered him a grin.

“You stink,” she informed him.

“Well some of us have been entertaining children all day.”

“If you’re trying to bag a spot as being Emma’s favourite aunt or uncle then I’m afraid you’ve already missed the boat and you’re looking at her - she’s more loyal than you’d think.” Calum joined in with her laughter.

“I wanted to say thanks.”

“What for?”

“Y’know... all of this,” he gestured at the people around him and shrugged. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

“It was Caleb who invited you, remember? The rest of us just put up with that decision.” Calum smiled down at his plate of food and shook his head.

“Tell me something?”

“What’s up?”

“If Rowen’s parents were so pissed about... you know... him coming out... why do they let him have all of you guys at their house?”

“Well... he’s their only kid, you know? They’re... trying to get better with it all and... they’re on holiday anyway for the summer so they wanted someone to house watch.”

“It’s weird that you’re all back home for the summer.” Calum commented and Y/N shrugged her shoulders sighing and allowing her head to drop and land on his shoulder. Calum felt his heart rate pick up.

“Well Alistair moved back so Sydney a little after Emma’s mum abandoned them to be with his parents for support and all, and Tate moved here a couple of months ago for a job, and I guess you know why Caleb’s home,” Calum nodded, remembering what Caleb had told him about his mothers health. “Jess recently got together with Tate - but they think none of us know that - so while she says she’s back all summer to spend time with all of us we know that’s just a lie,” Calum laughed a little. “And then Rowen agreed to house sitting in an attempt to appease his parents.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you back all summer?”

“Well it’s nice being home and seeing the family, Calum. Not all of us have a rockstar life in LA to be missing out on,” Y/N said with a meaningful glance his way, her eyebrows raised in challenge and Calum understood the meaning behind her words.

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” Y/N’s expression softened as she listen to him and took in his somewhat bashful appearance.

“I’m glad you’re home too, Cal.”

///

“So are you feeling better, Cal? After being back home?” Michael asked his best friend down the phone. 

Calum had been in Sydney for approaching three months and for two of a half of them he had been spending going to the weekly neighbourhood barbecues held by Y/N’s group of friends. He had very quickly been accepted into the group and had formed close friendships with most of them, the only two who he wasn’t as secure with being Tate and Jess, but Y/N had assured him that that was because the two of them were too wrapped up in each other at the present moment.

And he and Y/N had gotten especially close. He liked being around her. He appreciated the feeling of contentedness she brought him. He liked that she made him feel normal. He liked that she made him feel wanted as more than just ‘the bassist of 5 Seconds of Summer’. 

“Yeah, man… I feel a lot better than I did.” Calum agreed. He was currently walking over to Y/N’s house. It was her week to host the barbecue, admittedly some of the others had had to have it multiple times but it was fair enough seeing as though Y/N’s parents were still home for the summer as well, but had agreed to get out of the house for the day to allow Y/N to play hostess to her friends.

Y/N had joked down the phone that it really was just like being in high school again, having to wait for her parents to be out of the house for her to host a party.

That was another thing, him and Y/N spoke almost constantly. Outside of the barbecues that were fairly regularly scheduled, almost always landing on the same day every week, often at the same time as well, they would invite each other out to get coffee or ice cream or walk down the beach. Much of his summer break from the band had been spent accompanying Y/N when she took Emma to football practice to help out Alistair as much as she could.

Calum would likely never admit it to anyone but it was fairly doubtless in his mind that Y/N was much of the reason he was getting better by being back home in Sydney. 

“That’s good…” Michael trailed off and silence fell between them over the line. For the first time since Calum’s somewhat downward spiral had begun, though, it wasn’t an awkward one. It felt as though he could feel the happiness radiating off of his best friend that he was feeling better, the pride that Michael felt in him that he was taking steps towards recovery. “I think-”

“I’ve been-” they began to speak at the same time, the two of them letting out chuckles. “Sorry, what were you…”

“No, no, you go first,” Michael said. Calum wasn’t surprised by that response. He hadn’t been willingly speaking much in the past few months before returning home so his friends encouragement made sense.

“I was just going to say I’ve been writing again.” Calum admitted as he began the walk up Y/N’s front garden to her door.

“Really?” Michael’s excitement was almost painful to hear and Calum winced, it hitting then (not for the first time) how much his mental state had been affecting his friends. 

“Yeah! I was… I was thinking about maybe emailing what I have to you? You can check it out, see if its worth anything, you know?” He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

“Dude, I don’t think you’ve ever written a bad song, even when we were first starting,” Calum was laughing at Michael’s words when Y/N opened the door, raising her eyebrows as she saw Calum on the phone.

“Who is it?” She mouthed.

“Michael,” Calum audily answered.

“What?” Michael asked.

“Oh, shit. Sorry man, Y/N wanted to know who I was talking to,” Calum explained as Y/N stepped back to allow him into her house, mild amusement dancing over her features.

“Wait, Y/N from high school?” 

“Yeah, Y/N from high school,” Calum confirmed, giving the aforementioned girl an exaggerated eye roll and Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

“The same Y/N you harboured a crush on for, like, three years and invited to our first concert to impress her?” Michael teased and Calum felt the blood rush to his cheeks, infinitely grateful that Y/N couldn’t hear Michael’s side of the conversation.

“Yeah, that Y/N… plus, at least I invited someone to that who actually showed up.”

“Is this your first concert?” Y/N asked Calum quietly and he nodded. “Showed up and brought friends - remember, Rowen somehow got in.”

“Yeah, remember how she brought a friend who got completely smashed?” Michael remembered at the same time, the coincidental nature of the situation causing Calum to laugh again. 

“Is he coming home as well?” Y/N questioned and Calum relayed the question to his friend.

“Ah, yeah that was what I was trying to tell you - we’re all coming back for a couple of weeks. We’ve had our tickets booked for a while but didn’t want you to think we were checking up on you.” Calum explained Micahel’s answer to Y/N who nodded thoughtfully before grabbing the phone from his hand. Calum made a noise of indignation and chased her down the hallway and out into her garden.

“Cal’s having a barbecue at his next week, you should come! And the other guys too,” Y/N invited.

“It’s my fucking house!” Calum complained, but he didn’t really mind, truthfully he was thrilled at the idea of Michael, Ashton and Luke meeting his new friends properly.

“Language, Calum!” Alistair scolded, Emma was giggling in his arms after having heard Calum swear.

“Sorry Em!” Calum called, still chasing after Y/N.

“Yeah, of course they can come! I didn’t realise you were engaged, Mike, congratulations! And Luke’s really got a girlfriend? I figured he was still too awkward to talk to girls. He almost shit himself that time I congratulated him after the gig.” Y/N mused. She turned around and couldn’t stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when she saw how close Calum was. “I think he wants his phone back,” Y/N explained. “Yeah, it was nice speaking to you too, Mike… yeah, see you next week then!” Calum had his hand stretched out and while he tried to hide it his amusement from the situation was clear in his eyes. Y/N was reluctant to pass Calum the phone but placed it in his hand nonetheless with an innocent smile.

“She seems like fun.” Michael commented and Calum met Y/N’s eyes as he replied.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” Y/N’s embarrassment was clear and she excused herself away, joining Jess and Tate, stepping in the middle of the ‘secret’ couple and clapping a hand on each of their shoulders.

Calum and Y/N met again almost an hour later. He was last in line for food - all vegetarian this time since Y/N’s whole family were veggie and Y/N refused to cook meat and they walked together over to where two deckchairs were on the patio outside of her house, giving them a view of their friends.

“You okay?” Calum asked after a moment's silence and Y/N nodded. “You just seem quieter than normal,” he mentioned and Y/N sighed a laugh, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry - I get a bit nervous when it’s my turn to host,” she admitted.

“Well it’s all been pretty great,” Calum assured her. “Excepting the lack of meat, of course,” he added, nudging her gently and Y/N laughed again.

“Cal?” He made a noise of acknowledgement. “Why… why are you back?” For the first time, the silence between them felt awkward. “Sorry - you don’t have to answer, I was just…” Y/N sat up, shaking her head. “I’ll go.” Calum’s hand was working on its own when it reached out to stop her from standing up.

“Stay,” Y/N looked at him, her eyes a little wide, unsure at his command but she gave  hesitant nod. “My mum told me to come back,” he admitted and suddenly their closeness didn’t feel close enough. He wanted the comfort being near her brought him and he tugged her closer. 

Y/N didn’t fight back against his affections and moved over from her deckchair to his, allowing his head to fall into her shoulder.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing well in LA. I mean, I was. The band was doing great, we were planning for the tour and the next album and everything but…”

“But you weren’t great?” Y/N offered gently and Calum let out a long sigh before nodding. 

“I was sad… I was just so sad so much of the time and I couldn’t find inspiration to write, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to go anywhere and I just didn’t feel like me… do you know what I mean?” Y/N gave a wordless nod of understanding, knowing that if she spoke now, Calum would never finish his confession and she got the idea that he needed to get it off of his chest. “And I knew the others were worried about me - Mali wanted me to visit her in London because she thought a change of scenery was what I needed, Ash offered to let me move in for a bit but then my mum called and… she basically begged me to come home.”

“I’m glad she did,” Y/N confessed, rolling over so that they were face to face, her hands gently playing with the curls of his hair. He smiled gently at her, nodding.

“So am I… with you and the others I feel more like me than I have in a while,” he admitted.

“Because we’re all a bit more fucked up than you?” Y/N offered and Calum laughed, shaking his head. 

“Because you don’t just see me for the band.”

///

“Am I early?”Calum was equally shocked at seeing Rowen on his doorstep.

The man was the least prepared of the whole group, consistantly late to anything they organised, always forgetting to respond to messages on the group chat and when he did send something it tended to be prefaced by something dumb he had done, he was almost always borrowing food from other people because he would forget to do his weekly shop.

Rowen was an idiot, but they all loved him.

Though it was the aforementioned reasons that their friends gave for not putting Rowen as their accountant, despite that being what his job was.

“Yeah, man - you feeling okay?”

“Yeah - I’m fully going to rub this in all of their faces when they arrive, though,” Rowen declared, entering through Calum’s house before pausing in the hallway and turning back.

“What?”

“I left the beer at home.”

“It’s probably for the best for you, Ro,” Calum mused, patting Rowen on the back. “And I know I said you’re early but there are already some people here.”

Ashton, Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal had arrived in Australia two days ago and had barely left Calum’s side the whole time. While they had assured him countless times that they weren’t checking up on him, Calum was well aware that they were, in fact, checking up on him. As a result of his friends suddenly developed clinginess, it was unsurprising that they were already at Calum’s house helping him prepare for the barbecue.

“Y/N also said she was going to try and come a little early,” Calum added after informing Rowen of his band mates presence.

“That was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Rowen added as they moved into Calum’s back garden. “Dude you didn’t say you had a pool!”

“I one hundred percent did, but what did you want to talk to me about Y/N for?”

“Oh shit yeah. Right so, are you planning on telling her you like her or not?”

“Valid question!” Michael called from where he was attempting with Luke to light the barbecue.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered out, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. 

“He’s lying!” Ashton called from where he and the girls were arranging the drinks in the coolers on the table. Calum flipped off his friends.

“It’d be cool if you did because she likes you too.” Rowen informed him and Calum froze.

“She-she does?” 

“Please, Y/N is never normally this friendly to anyone,” Rowen scoffed. 

“She’s lovely!” Calum argued, growing a little defensive of the girl he had been harbouring a crush on.

“Yeah she is but she’s also a sarcastic bitch a lot of the time,” Rowen pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Either way, my point was that you should tell her.”

Rowen walked away to take a beer from where Ashton, Sierra and Crystal were, leaving Calum stood stock still alone on his porch, his mind racing. 

“He’s right,” Ashton said as he approached his friend, passing Calum a beer as he joined him.

“Not you too,” Calum sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Dude, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in months and I know for a fact its thanks to her, I’ve never heard you talk about any other girl in the same way that you talk about Y/N so… you need to tell her.”

“I can’t, Ash. She’s so painfully too good for me that the idea of telling her I like her with the hope of her liking me back is laughable. Actually, she probably would laugh if I told her. Look, you’ll meet her today and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I don’t need to see her to know she’s out of your league but that’s beside the point,” Ashton argued. 

“You’re doing a great job at boosting my self esteem and building my confidence, by the way. Have you ever considered going into counseling if the band doesn’t work out?” There was a knock on the door and Calum gave Ashton an incredibly pointed look. “I’m going to get that. When I come back I want you to have learnt how to shut the fuck up.”

Calum walked away from Ashton, his friends infectious laughter following him down the hall and bringing a smile to his face.

“Sorry - I know I said I’d be earlier than this,” Y/N greeted him apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it - the guys were here to help set up,” Calum assured her, taking the box of alcohol from her hands.

“I just need to grab the rest of the stuff from my car,” she smiled.

“Do you need a hand?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll see you out back?” Calum nodded his confirmation and carried the box of booze she had brought out to his garden. 

“Did you tell her?” Luke hollered across the garden, everyone but Calum erupting into laughter as the bassist groaned heavily.

“You make me want to slam my face into a table!” 

“Don’t do that - you have quite a nice face,” Y/N responded as she came out of the hallway into the garden carrying two carrier bags. Rowen wolf whistled loudly and Y/N struggled with her luggage for a moment before managing to extend her middle finger at him.

“What do you even have in there?” Calum questioned, trying to move so that Y/N couldn’t see his face, which he knew would be red from embarrassment at her compliment. 

“I made too much food last night for tea so I brought some leftovers for Al, Emma and Ro. And then I also picked up a bottle of wine for your parents to-”

“To thank them for letting you come over?” Calum interrupted, seeing where Y/N was going and she nodded. “Wow, we really are back in high school.”

“Fuck you,” Y/N groaned. “I’ve met your parents, like, once and we literally have come over and kicked them out of their home so we can be here and have a barbecue instead, I feel bad.”

“Trust me, they like you because they think you single handedly are the reason for me being happy again.”

“Are you trying to say that’s not the case?” Y/N gasped in offense, her hand going to her heart. 

“Come on, we both know that Em was at least half the reason.”

“Valid point - I also bought some champagne that was on offer? Figured we could celebrate your band coming back or, if that’s too cheesy then there’s more alcohol for us to drink away our sadness with!” She cheered, bringing the champagne out of her bag.

“I like the sound of option B,” Luke chipped in, joining Calum and Y/N.

“Bro, you look absolutely nothing like I remember you,” Y/N commented, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked Luke up and down. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” Y/N assured with a smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not sure if you…”

“I remember you,” he confirmed, grinning and his gaze slid over to Calum. “Besides, with the amount Calum-”

“Alright, Luke, that’s enough,” Calum had never been more grateful for Sierra’s presence. “Hey, I’m Sierra, Luke’s girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you.” Calum watched Y/N take her hand, her smile a little more nervous than he had seen it be before.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too. Mike mentioned that you and…” Y/N’s face dropped a little, her eyes widening as she seemed to search her mind for the name.

“Crystal,” Calum filled in for her quietly.

“Yeah, of course. He said that you and Crystal would be coming,” she confirmed, turning to give Calum a grateful smile.

“Luke, I need your help with something,” Sierra mentioned and Calum and Luke’s faces both furrowed in confusion until Sierra shot a look at Calum and he quickly cottoned onto what she was trying to do. Calum shook his head, his eyes wide but the couple left, giggling as they did so.

“Everything alright, Cal?” Y/N asked, seeing the panicked and mildly pissed off look on his face.

“Uh, yeah! I was actually going to ask you the same thing, you seem nervous,” he added, allowing his concern to outweigh his own personal worry.

“Ah, I’m just not great at meeting new people.”

“You’ve already met the guys.”

“I never spoke to any of you guys really in high school, though,” she pointed out and Calum nodded a little, conceding to her point.

“You didn’t seem nervous talking to me,” he said after a moment of thinking.

“Yeah, but… I dunno, you’re you, you know? Plus, I had all the others to fall back on if you did decide you hated me so that was less pressure than this,” Calum snorted in laughter.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

“I take pride in it.”

Calum could feel the eyes of his bandmates, their girlfriends and Rowen burning into them as they lapsed into conversation. When there was another knock at the door, Calum was unsurprised to hear someone else call to say they’d get it.

“They’re… they are all acting kind of strange today, right? I’m not just imagining it?” 

“Oh no, they’re definitely acting strange.” Calum confirmed.

“Do you know why?” She asked, observing them, though now they had gone into their own individual conversations. Calum had a feeling it was to try and play off that they were watching him and Y/N.

Calum sighed. He had a feeling that it was better to just tell her rather than have Rowen or Luke drunkenly blurt it out, knowing that the likelihood of that happening was quite high.

“I need to tell you something,” he began and his nerves came to hit him flat in the face when Y/N turned to give him her absolute full attention.

“That sounds serious,” she said, a nervous smile on her own face. “Is this a ‘sit-down-with-a-beer’ kind of serious talk or a  ‘stand-up-and-shut-the-fuck-up-Y/N’ kind of serious talk?” Calum chuckled, his nerves easing just a slight bit from her familiar mannerisms. 

“The second one, but I don’t want you to shut up,” Calum took a deep breath. “In fact, I’d gladly listen to you talk forever,” Y/N’s expression softened a little. “I… I’ve been really lost for the past few years of my life. Perhaps… perhaps I never really knew who I was because of what happened to the band happened so early in our lives that we never got a chance to figure out who we were. And the months before I came to Sydney I thought that… that maybe I wasn’t anyone other than ‘Calum the bassist from 5 Seconds of Summer’ but… when I’m with you I feel like I know who I am,” he explained, his gaze dropping down to his hands.  “I thought being home would be shit, just another reminder of who I am and I thought when I went to Charlie’s barbecue that anyone I met there would just see me for the fame and not see me. But… you never did. You saw me for me and you accepted me and looked out for me and cared for me despite me being kind of standoffish that first barbecue,” when he risked a glance up he saw the tears in her eyes and sadness swamped him. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Calum lifted a hand to her cheek to catch the tear that slipped from her eye and Y/N giggled a little, leaning into his touch.

“Happy tears, Cal, I promise - now go on, you were about to profess your undying love for me,” it was teasing, of course it was, but Calum could hear the underlying insecurity in her words, the worry that she may have misinterpreted what he was going to say.

“I really like you, Y/N.” 

It was easier to say than Calum thought. He thought the words would be groundbreaking, momentus and earth shattering. But no. It was easy. Simple and sweet and natural. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Everything with Y/N was easy.

Just like how it was easy to allow her arms to wind around his neck.

Easy to place his hands on her waist.

Easy to relax and let her tug him down to meet her.

But easy wouldn’t be the word to describe their kiss. Groundbreaking, phenomenal and otherworldly wouldn’t be quite right either.

No, their lips sliding together, the kiss tasting of beer and spearmint gum, the way that when they broke apart they laughed gently into one another's mouths, it wasn’t any of those things.

Being with her like that was natural.

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Rent and Grafitti

First, Previous (Chap 19), Ao3

Word count: 1553

Warnings: semi-grafic description of a gory picture

Mum closed the door behind her staring at the ground in front of her.

"Our rent was paid," she said numbly.

"What?" Luan asked surprised.

Janus forced himself to act surprised as well.

"Yes, Mx Johnas said it was paid a few days ago. He was confused when I tried to ask him for a little more time to get the money together."

Janus managed not to smile proudly. He had faked Mum's handwriting for the letter, even if he hadn't actually signed it. Their landlord knew Mum's handwriting. He had learned to fake both handwritings and signatures in English five years ago.

It was a far more useful skill than most people thought.

While he and Luan prepared dinner Mum and Luan continued talking about the mysterious bill payer until a phone beeped in their bedroom and Mum left to check whose it was.

"I'm not sure why," Luan spoke quietly, clearly not meaning for Mum to hear him, "but I have the feeling you have something to do with this."

Janus froze for a split second.

"What makes you think that?" he asked. "Where would I even get that kind of money from? I don't even have a job."

Luan shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't know how you spend your free time. Maybe you picked it up after that heist? Maybe you found a different way to earn money. You're a clever kid. I wouldn't put it past you."

"I didn't do anything though," Janus lied.

"Alright, I didn't mean to accuse you of anything."

"Babe?" Mum called from the bedroom. "Your boss is calling."

Luan dropped his head with a sigh before pushing off the counter to leave the room.

Janus took over the pan and mum came back into the kitchen.

"How was your day, anyway?" she asked. "Did you meet up with any friends?"

For a moment he contemplated lying but he decided to be honest with her for once. She deserved to know at least something about his life.

"No, I had detention."

"What? Why? What happened?"

"Mr Heller called this trans guy in my Latin class a girl and a fake boy so I called him out on it."

"And he gave you detention?"

Janus nodded not looking at her.

Mum put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know you were in the right anyway, don't you?" she asked, pride in her voice.

Janus smiled up at her. "Yeah, of course, I do."

Mum pulled him close in a one-armed embrace. "How did I end up with the best son in the world, huh? I'm sorry I've been so busy lately."

"It's fine," Janus said. "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

She was quiet for a moment.

"That's what I'm afraid off," he caught her whispering before she went to set the table.

Luan came back in a little later saying that his boss had ordered him to come immediately and that they shouldn't wait for him to eat. He looked as done as possible with the world as he put his coat back on but Janus knew that his boss wouldn't ever get to see that glare.

Mum turned on the TV saying that maybe 'those thieves' had struck again and they could pick up a bit of cash if it was nearby. Janus chuckled knowing full well that this wouldn't be the case.

It had almost been a month since their bank robbery and he and Virgil had more plans already but it'd take time. They couldn't risk getting arrested, running into some supervillain, accidentally making the mafia their enemy or running intro Heartrate and his sidekicks. Neither of them were fighters after all.

At least as far as Janus was aware. At this point, he doubted anything about Virgil could surprise him anymore.

Mum switched through the channels until she finally found the news.

Some guy Janus didn't recognize had died at the age of 78 and Mum told him that he had been hot when she had been young.

"And- this just in - Professor Logic is on his second heist this month!"

That caught Janus' attention. Prof Logic wasn't the type to conduct heists often.

Security footage of the inside of the Central Bank showed Logic shoving a man towards a vault with a gun to his back. The man shook as he began opening the vault. The Professor looked up as if something had caught his attention before turning towards the camera. It looked like someone had brought it to his attention even though there was no one there with him. He aimed and the footage cut off.

After dinner, Janus helped Mum clean up the kitchen and she went to bed.

Janus let his pet snakes, Deklan and Desmund out of their cage and let them drape over him as he sat down on his bed and picked up his phone.

Four unread messages.

Two from the girl he was assigned to do a presentation with asking when and where they should meet up to work on it which he didn't even open so she wouldn't know he had read them - he didn't feel like texting her back - and two from Virgil he opened without hesitation.

The first was a badly lit picture of a graffiti of head, detached from the neck, with what looked like blood dripping down and something he couldn't really make out in the left eye. The second was a single question mark.

Janus didn't need more to understand what Virgil wanted to know.

 Looks cool

 What's with the eye?

He waited if Virgil would respond for a few minutes and left the messenger app to go to his browser - oh.

He had forgotten what he had looked u earlier.

The colours of the nonbinary pride flag illuminated his face - or was it their face?

"They," Janus whispered, trying to picture someone using the pronoun. "Their name is Janus."

They sat up and pet Desmund, letting their fingers slide over her smooth scales.

'They' sounded nice.

It made Janus smile.

But did that really mean that Janus was nonbinary?

'He' didn't exactly feel bad after all. Just not as good as 'they'.

With a sigh Janus began to scroll through different posts made by nonbinary people, scanning most of them only briefly and dropping a like here and there on the ones that came so close to home it was almost weird and a few nice artworks.

 It's okay if it's just a phase.

The phrase was in the same font, in the same colour as everything around it but it made Janus freeze, thumb on the screen, ready to scroll on.

Instead, Janus read the post.

The message was simple.

That is was fine to experiment with pronouns, labels and names, even if you came to the conclusion that you were cis the entire time. At the end was a smiley face and the words that had stopped Janus.

 It's okay if it's just a phase.

"They," Janus whispered again and clicked on the comment button.

 Thank you

Then they switched back to their messenger app.

Virgil was online and had read the texts but not replied yet. Not that it mattered.

 Can you meet me at Winblae by the park in 15?

Janus hesitated before sending, watching the 'Typing...' blink in and out of existence next to Virgil's contact name before finally tapping the small blue button.

The two arrows turned blue right away.

The 'Typing...' disappeared again.

 sure

 emergency?

Janus couldn't help a small smile.

 no, just need to talk to you irl

They brought their snakes back to their cages and noticed that their fingers were shaking slightly.

Virgil wouldn't mind, right? He wasn't transphobic. Or enbyphobic... right?

They took a deep breath, grabbed their jacket and climbed out of the window.

They would be fine.

It was just a coming out.

To their best friend.

It would be fine.

Virgil was already at the park when Janus got there.

He sat on a swing and stared into the cloudy sky.

Janus took a seat on the one next to him.

"So, what's up?" Virgil asked, looking at them. "Did something happen?"

Janus took a breath and let it out watching it turn into fog in the cold air.

"Kind of," they began. "Nothing bad though, don't worry. At least I don't think it's bad. I just... I've been thinking lately..."

"A dangerous past time," Virgil commented and it startled a chuckle out of them.

"I think... I think I might not be a boy," Janus finally managed to say.

Virgil was quiet for a moment.

"Are you... something else?" he then asked.

"I'm not sure but I think I might be nonbinary."

The statement hung in the air between them and Janus wished they could take it back and stuff it down, deep down so it'd never reach the outside world.

"Do you want me to call you by different pronouns then?" Virgil asked.

"Maybe they/them?"

"Okay," Virgil nodded to himself. "A different name?"

Janus felt a weight fall of their chest.

"No, I think Janus is fine."

Virgil smiled at them.

"Okay," he said.

Yeah, this was fine.

"So, where did you spray that head?" Janus asked. "Because the pic was shit."

Next

Taglist:

@patton-cake , @isabelle-stars

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #91

Date: 14th of February, 2028

Dear Diary, 

Well! It has been a very eventful couple of weeks leading to Valentines, and most of it is good! Honestly, I’m so excited for spring. I’m ready for the snow and ice to go away, and I’ve come to realise that aside from Halloween, Valentines might be my favourite holiday. I mean, I love all of them but, yeah. 

So I tried this potion called essence of euphoria for the first time, with Ruby. I bought some last Hogsmeade Weekend. Ruby and I played some question games, and it was really silly. It made me feel very… light and soft. Like I had sunshine in my belly, which, the potion is all sunshine yellow, so that makes sense. And Ruby kept saying all these things, calling me pretty and stuff. It was a good memory, I think. I want to buy more from Hogsmeade, but I have to save my allowance a little. 

I got to talk to Aures a little, and I met some other Gryffindors - one named Andie, the other named Candice. Candice seems nice, and I offered to help her with herbology homework because she was struggling with aconite. Andie is… lively. And energetic, but… I’ve heard her say some mean things to Jamie, so I’m not sure how to feel about her. Ressy likes her though, so… I dunno. 

In Potions Theory, we got to talk about Love Potions which I guess is something we do every year around this time of year. Not that I’m complaining, I have that subject matter practically memorised. I love the idea of love potions! Or maybe I just love love. Anyways, we got to smell amortentia again. I smelled chocolate chip cookies, and firewood like the smoke from campfires and fireplaces, and honeysuckle, which made me really wish it was spring again. I wish I could wear amortentia as a perfume. I wonder if you could actually do that? And then you’d smell like whatever attracts other people. I wouldn’t want that kind of attention, though, I’d want to just smell it for myself, you know? 

Jamie found me in the art room when I was painting some stuff I had seen from the vision. We talked about it for a long time. I learned some things about the vision I hadn’t known, and so did they, because we both focused on different things when we were seeing it. It’s so strange to share that exact memory with someone else, but, it’s also kind of cool, and comforting. Jamie told me that they’re dating Ressy now, and I thought I’d be jealous, but… I think it’s sort of good? I know Ressy has always wanted other friends, and I do too, so it sort of feels like even though we’re kind of growing in different directions right now, it means it’ll be better to grow together later. Like, become our own people rather than being isolated together, I guess. 

Cupid’s Corner and the rose grams came back again. I got one rose from Jamie, and it was a new friend rose. I’m going to hang it from the poster frame of my bed so that it dries in a good shape, and then I’ll keep it forever. And then I put in Cupid’s Corner messages for a few people, but not as much as I did last year or that I would’ve liked to, and I didn’t send any roses at all. I guess I felt really tired and lazy. Maybe a bit sad and homesick? Like, I’m all pent up, and I keep dreaming of just getting on my broom and flying away for a little bit, having an adventure. 

In Divinations, we did divination with cats! I was very glad to not have brought Puck to this lesson, because he doesn’t really get along with other cats. Like, he doesn’t mind them, but if he gets frustrated or wants to go outside, he’ll bother them. Anyways, I got to divine with this orange cat, the tag said Sir Pounce de Leon, but if he were my cat, I’d have named him Goose or Cashmere. I love his name, anyways. And I ended up staying in the room way after everyone else had left, because he fell asleep in my lap and it seemed like it was against the law to move. 

We did the flutterby bush class again, which I always love, and then it was time to prepare for the Hearty Party. Mum sent me this dress I had from a few years ago, but she’d used magic to colour it, and my granny tailored it to fit me better since I’ve grown a little. And then she gave me this sparkly undershirt thingy to wear with it, and a big pink ribbon. Oh, and this piece of costume jewelry that’s like a big opal to wear as a necklace. Honestly, this was probably my favourite outfit I’ve ever worn, and I didn’t really wanna take it off. I just love love! And love themes! And for the party, I coloured the ends of my hair red and then braided it and tied it up.

The Hearty Party this year was pretty cool. The theme was Medusa and Athena, which I thought was interesting. I heard they’ve done greek themes for years now. They apparently did Poseidon at one point, and there was sushi and stuff and it was all underwater themed, and I wish I could have seen it! I ate berry flavoured cheesecake and fruit lemonade, and then I ended up leaving early because there was so many people in there and so much going on, that I got a little overwhelmed. 

I ran into Casey, also. He’d gotten into some sort of fight with Peach and she stormed off, and Andie and this Slytherin girl Alexandra teased him. He seemed really upset, so I stopped him and told him if he needed to talk to a friend, or anything like that, I’m here. He went to the common rooms and I haven’t seen him since, but it’s only been a day so… I just hope he’s okay and has friends to talk to if he needs it. 

And then this is where it gets… interesting? Weird? Bobby found me in the clocktower. I was playing exploding snap by myself, so we started talking and were gonna play some games, but then a bunch of older students showed up, so he picked me up and carried me to this secret room behind a painting! I don’t think I’ve been carried since I was little, and even then it was by my parents! 

Anyways, we started to play the game. We talked about favourite holidays, worst things we’ve ever done. We talked about what we thought about marriage and family, like, when we’re older. He says he wants to have a yacht which is like a big fancy rich people boat, and I told him I want to travel in a van or even a caravan and sometimes by broom, like, see the world? 

But then we started talking about crushes, and he told me that Talula had talked to him about me and that she thought I might like him, which, she’s not wrong. And I told Bobby that I did like him, and Ruby, too, and he told me he liked me back! And he kissed me on the cheek! But then, he asked if we were supposed to kiss or something, and… And I got so nervous that I just kissed him on the cheek and ran away! 

I had told him I didn’t want to make things weird with out friendship, but, I also kind of don’t want to let this go. I don’t really know what to do. Bobby is one of my closest friends, it’d wreck me if I lost him for some reason or another, but, maybe I’m overthinking it? I need to ask Marigold or Talula or someone for their thoughts. Someone older, with some experience. Though, Talula did talk about Chadwick apparently being a knob, so… I dunno. 

My brain is all kinds of confused, now. But, we’ll figure it out. I’m sure it’ll all be okay. So! Until then.

Much love, Everly

[ Eve’s Wiki Page ] 

[ Flickr ] 

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 1 - Treehouse

…in which Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

wattpad link

.

"Y/N, would you like to go next?"

The little girl lifted her eyes from the pink notebook and looked around to find the whole class staring at her. She saw Melanie George walk back to her desk, cracking a smirk and thanking the other kids for praising her story about the Cinderella themed birthday party.

"Y/N," Mrs. Mai called again, this time raising both eyebrows at the nine-year-old who was slowly sinking into her chair and shaking her head fast.

Before coming to class that day, Y/N had wanted to share her story for the weekend assignment. She had worked so hard on it and she couldn't be prouder of herself. But after hearing all the other kids talk about cool things like trips to Disneyland, family vacations, and massive birthday parties, she was afraid that her story wasn't interesting enough and everyone would start making fun of her for it.

"It's okay, Y/N. Come up here and don't be shy," the teacher said with a smile, leaving the girl no choice but to bring her pink notebook to the front, and finally face her fear of public humiliation.

"I...Uh...My...My story is..."

As Y/N began to read aloud the words on the page, she could hear the other kids sniggering at her. In fact, it was all she could concentrate on as she wished to disappear from the face of Earth and never return again. But she knew it was never that easy. That moment in the classroom was her reality, and she could either face it or tell the teacher she couldn't continue anymore.

Just as Y/N was about to go for the latter option, she accidentally met a pair of blue eyes in the front row. The tiny girl named Celine gave her two thumbs-ups and the brightest smile she had ever seen, and that was all the encouragement she needed right then. Even though she didn't believe in herself, now she knew at least one person in that room might.

Mrs. Mai shushed the whole class, telling them to be quiet so Y/N could begin. "Go on, Y/N," she said. "Tell us, what does true happiness mean to you?"

With a quiet, trembling voice, and eyes on the notebook page, little Y/N began, "my definition of true happiness...is the boy next door. His name is Harry Styles."

Everyone, including the teacher, was taken aback by that intro. They had expected a less interesting version of Melanie George's story, something about tule skirts and pink tiaras, not a boy. But soon enough, the whole class fell to silence as the little girl, now with confidence, went on about the night she first met her lovely neighbor.

.

.

.

Y/N met Harry a few weeks ago on a Wednesday night.

Her mum and dad were fighting again. In fact, she couldn't recall the last time they laughed during dinner or kissed each other on the cheek like the other parents did. She used to wonder about that a lot. But now that she was so used to their daily arguments, Y/N just took it at face value and accepted that not all parents were supposed to love each other.

Sometimes they fought about money, sometimes about people whose names she couldn't recognize. But that Wednesday night, things got so intense that her parents started throwing things, not at each other, but she heard glass shattered against the wall, and remembered how her mother used to say, ' a relationship, just like glass, couldn't be mended once broken.'

The little girl abandoned her room that night and ran to the backyard, where she could escape from the tension indoors, from reality, from all the broken things she couldn't fix, even if it was just for a little while.

Her mother used to try growing a garden out there, but it had been too long since she watered the plants or mowed the lawn. Now it didn't really look like a garden anymore. But Y/N loved it still. She loved how orderly the grass grew without the help of human hands; she loved to spot a few red and yellow wildflowers here and there, like little surprises the neglected garden had for her. Even so, she still couldn't help but fantasize about what was on the other side of the fence.

The Styles' backyard was a dream come true. That family grew all types of flowers you could possibly name; carnations, hydrangeas, daisies, lilies,...they had it all. Their lawn was always freshly trimmed, and the sprinklers came on every morning at 6AM, like an alarm clock for the whole garden. Y/N had always envied the kids over there for that magical place. She had never really met them, but she'd seen them a couple times before, a boy and a girl, both older than her.

But the main reason Y/N was so obsessed with her neighbor's yard was their treehouse. She had never seen the kids next door play in it, and the big tree was leaning towards her house more; so Y/N just assumed it also belonged to her family, therefore also belonged to her. All she had to do was climb on top of the fence, and from there, she could step on the lowest branch to reach for the rope ladder. Ever since the first time she'd discovered the place, it had become her most favorite hideout.

That night, however, as Y/N returned to her tree fort, she found out she wasn't the only one there.

"What are you doing in here, kid?"

The boy with dark brown hair immediately got up from the floor as he saw her at the entrance. He was a whole head taller than her, yet too skinny to beat her up. So even though that was his treehouse and she was the intruder, Y/N wasn't afraid of him.

Instead of apologizing, she put both hands on her hips and raised her voice at her green-eyed neighbor, "don't call me a kid, you're still a kid!"

The boy scoffed as he was surprised by her attitude.

"How old are you?" He asked

"Nine..."

"I'm thirteen. I'm older than you so you're a kid. Now get out!" The boy shouted at her, pointing a finger to the door. But as soon as Y/N burst into tears, he completely freaked out. He thought he was the reason, but it was actually a lot of things. She couldn't go back inside, she couldn't even stay in the treehouse where she felt safe. The girl didn't know what to do next, so she just started weeping.

The boy had never made a girl cry before, and now he remembered how his mother had always said, 'only weak men would pick on women'. So he felt really awful.

"Hey, kid...You know what? Maybe you can stay here for a little while," he said,, with a bit of hesitation and a hand on her shoulder, but somehow those words worked like a charm. Y/N quickly wiped away her tears, and looked the boy in the eyes as she smiled at him.

"You know who you remind me of?" He asked, leaving her confused.

"Who?"

"Bambi. You know, the deer in that Disney movie."

"I know who Bambi is." She glared at him. "But why?"

"You have pretty eyes but they're so sad, like Bambi's," he told her. "I'm gonna call you Bambi from now on."

Y/N didn't know why she felt offended by that nickname he'd just given her. "I have a name," she said. "It's Y/N."

"I'm Harry. Harry Styles," the boy introduced himself with confidence, and smiling, he said, "nice to meet you, Bambi."

And just like that, Y/N and Harry had become friends. They spent the rest of the night there, pretending like they were pirates and the treehouse was their ship, and their laughter somehow brought her gloomy garden back to life.

Harry told Y/N that she was more mature than the kids her age, therefore was qualified to hang out with him, and the girl couldn't be happier about that. Her life had been boring and repetitive before she met him, but that night she couldn't even fall asleep. She lied in bed, eyes opened, wide awake, waiting for the morning to come so she could see the boy again.

Harry Styles, without a doubt, was the definition of true happiness.

.

.

.

"Hey, I really liked your story."

The soft voice pulled Y/N's attention away from her book as she looked up, receiving a smile from the tiny kid named Celine.

"Thank you. Wanna sit?" She said, patting on the spot beside her on the swing, and the curly haired one said yes in a heartbeat.

Y/N had never actually spoken to Celine Fischer before, but she had always noticed the girl, probably because Celine was the tiniest fourth grader she had ever seen. The boys in their class could say anything they wanted about her braces or her short legs, but no one could deny how special Celine was, it was her smooth brown skin and vivid blue eyes that made her stand out from all the others.

Y/N was very jealous of that. She'd read too much about female book characters with blue eyes, fair skin, and blonde hair to believe that someone like herself could be beautiful. But maybe those books had been all wrong. Celine didn't have all of those features, yet she thought Celine was beautiful, so there had to be someone out there who thought the same about her.

"What are you reading?" The tiny girl asked, leaning over to check out the book her new friend was holding.

"A Little Princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett."

"Oooh, is it good?"

"It is."

"But there's no picture!"

"That's because only babies read picture books," Y/N said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, proudly straightening her back when she saw the admiring look on Celine’s face. "You see, Harry is four years older than us. I don't want to act like a baby around him."

"Are you and Harry dating?"

Y/N told Celine to be quiet and looked around cautiously before she leaned in closer, asking her friend to do the same so she could whisper in her ear. "Don't tell anyone or else it won't come true."

"What won't come true?"

"Harry and I," she said under her breath. "I want to marry Harry when we grow up. But my mum said that if you told too many people about your dream, it'd be more unlikely to happen."

"Really?!" Celine gasped, and then swore to Y/N that she would never talk about her dream of becoming an actress again.

"Harry wants to be an actor!" Y/N exclaimed as soon as she heard the girl. "Maybe when Harry and I are married, you could be in the same movie with him."

The thought of that far future got both girls giggling in excitement. They spent the rest of their break-time on that swing, talking about so many other topics. And by the end of the day, they had become good friends.

.

.

.

Despite her complicated family situation, Y/N was very close to her mother, who had taught her everything she needed to know about growing up as a girl. So when she turned eleven and got her first period, she wasn't afraid, actually, she was thrilled! She had been waiting for that day for so long just so she could finally be seen as a grown woman, or at least that was what her mother had told her. The first person she wanted to break the news to, besides her mother of course, was her next-door neighbor Harry.

The girl ran to his house right after breakfast, trying to contain her excitement, as she shouted out loud before even reaching his front door, "Harry, Harry, I got my first period!"

But her Harry was not alone on his porch. He was sitting in a circle with some kids his age, all were boys, and they were fooling around instead of studying like they should be. The older kids turned their heads at once to look at a confused Y/N when she stopped a few steps away from the porch. Then all of a sudden, they burst into laughter, leaving the little girl embarrassed despite not knowing what they were laughing about and why.

Harry immediately told everyone to shut up as he rose from the floor and walked over to take her hand. "My friends and I are busy right now." He leaned down and spoke to her softly, "you go home, alright? I'll talk to you later."

Y/N didn't get the implication so she announced her big news once again, just as loud and excited as she'd been before. "I got my first period! Mum said I'm an adult now!"

"You're ten years old!" Some kid on the porch shouted at her.

"I'm eleven! Get your facts straight!" She countered, causing Harry to snort as he found her angry little face and the way she stomped her feet quite adorable.

"Shut your mouth, Brian! We already know you can't do math!" Harry's remark made everyone laugh, and the chubby kid named Brian sat there in silence as his face turned red from being called out that way. Harry took everyone's distraction as an opportunity to walk his neighbor a bit further away from them, so their conversation wouldn't be heard or interrupted anymore.

He laid both hands on Y/N's small shoulders, then looked the girl in the eyes and started lecturing her, "you shouldn't tell everyone about this, Bambi. This should be personal."

"But..." His advice left a pouty frown on her face. "I thought it would make me cool..."

Fifteen-year-old Harry couldn't help but crack a smile as he heard those innocent words.

"It is very cool!" He said. "There's nothing wrong with it at all, and nobody should laugh at you for it." That was what he'd heard his mother say to his big sister Gemma a couple years ago, and she had also taught him about this kind of stuff. Now he knew enough to not act like an idiot and make fun of girls for the way they grew. "But only people who truly care about you will realize how cool it is that your body is changing. Dumb kids like Brian doesn't know anything and would just be mean to you."

"People who care about me?" She bit her lip to hold back a wide grin. "Like you?" When he nodded she felt like her heart was about to explode. "So...You think I'm a woman now, right?"

For that question, Harry shook his head. "You're only eleven, you're still a little girl. When you're older, like Gemma now, then you're a woman."

"But boys don't like little girls."

"That's not true. I'm a boy and I like you."

"You do?!" Y/N started grinning from ear to ear as soon as she heard him.

"Of course I do." Harry nodded fast, curving his pink lips into a solid smile as he said, "you're my girl."

Y/N didn't know what to reply, she was all flustered and blushing hard. She wasn't sure if Harry could see how happy he'd made her just by calling her his girl. Maybe he couldn't see it. Because her mother had said that boys wouldn't always see what you wanted them to see, like the way you twisted your hair around your finger because you were nervous around them, or the way your smile grew bigger only for them, or the frown on your face when they didn't notice you. Harry was a boy, after all, Y/N didn't expect him to see it. But she hoped that someday he might.

"Now go home, Bambi," the boy said as he stroked her head. "I'll see you later."

"At the treehouse?" She giggled, gripping the hem of her skirt tightly.

"At the treehouse," he confirmed with another smile, then returned to his front porch.

And so little Y/N walked home, humming the song on that cereal commercial her dad found annoying. In her head, she kept replaying the words 'my girl'.

.

.

.

When Y/N turned thirteen, everything had changed.

Harry started spending less time with her and more time with his group of friends. Although she had Celine to keep her company, it would be a lie to say she didn't miss him. Every time she looked out of her window and saw him with his friends, some of whom were girls, all pretty and mature, Y/N felt overwhelmingly sad. She didn't know if it was considered a heartbreak, but she guessed it was close.

Her mother said when your heart broke for the person you truly loved, it would be one of the worst kinds of pain though it wasn't physical; it hurt you to the point you would never be the same again. Y/N knew it was gonna happen to her. What she didn't know, was exactly when.

"Bambi!"

The familiar voice made Y/N drop the book in her hand, and rush to the doorway of the treehouse to look down at a smiling Harry. He waved at her and she waved back with extra enthusiasm.

Seventeen-year-old Harry was a daydream come to life. He had one of the most beautiful faces Y/N had ever seen. She'd witnessed the girls in their town swoon and sigh as he came to Church on Sunday morning, or went for a run around the neighborhood. After all, he had always been handsome. But the older he grew, the more attractive he came to be.

Now his shoulders were broader, his legs were longer, and the features on his face became more prominent, like his high cheekbones and well-defined jawline. Soon he had turned into the perfect male protagonist in every romantic novel she was obsessed with. There were only two things that remained the same: his leaf green eyes, and the dimpled smile that shone like the morning sun.

"Reading?" He asked, looking up with both hands in his pockets, and there came that smile again.

"Yup." She nodded. "You coming up?"

Y/N was grinning from ear to ear. But a simple word 'no' had her torn to pieces.

"I can't, kid. I gotta go to this concert in an hour."

"Oh, sounds cool...Can I come?"

He breathed out a laugh, and the look he was giving her was already the answer she didn't want to hear. He told her she needed to be at least sixteen to get in, and since she was only thirteen he couldn't take her with him.

"But don't worry," he said. "I'll record videos for you."

"Oh...Okay. Have fun then."

Frowning, Y/N intended to turn away, when suddenly he called her by that dearest nickname again. She looked back at where he stood, still the same smile on his pretty face.

"I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? I can help you with your math homework," he said with dimples on his cheeks.

"Sure," she replied, just less excited this time as Harry returned to his house without looking back. Of course, she knew she was just a kid to him. He wasn't hers. He had never been hers. But at that moment while watching him walk away, Y/N began to feel like she was slowly losing him.

.

.

.

After the concert that night, Harry came home very late.

It was nearly 12AM and Y/N was still awake because she, once again, waited until the last minute to study for an exam in two days. She saw headlights pulling over in front of the house next door, and went to her window to see if it was really him.

That was when she saw Harry get out of his car and come to open the door on the passenger side for his blonde-haired date. That girl was a real-life book character, blue eyes, glowing skin, golden locks falling right past her slim shoulders. She was everything Y/N had ever wanted to be. She was what Harry wanted.

Right now, it seemed like they were having a blast as they were both laughing while wrapping their arms around each other. Y/N knew she should just go to sleep, yet deep down inside, she was curious about the girl. So she dropped her homework and quietly left the house, heading to her backyard where she assumed they might be.

From the distance, she could see a light in the treehouse. Her heart was pounding as she had both hands linked and placed against her chest. Nobody else besides the two of them had entered that treehouse before. It was their fort, their hideout, their spot, theirs. But now as she was standing from afar, she saw Harry and the other girl up there. He had his arms wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck, their foreheads rested against each other, and he stared at her in a way he had never, and would never do to Y/N.

The thirteen-year-old felt like she couldn't breathe. She stood like a scarecrow in the middle of her backyard, with pain in her chest, looking at the couple of teenagers who were too lost in their own world to notice her.

Harry sat on the floor, pulling the girl down with him as he picked up the guitar in the corner and started playing her a song. He had told Y/N she was the first and only girl he'd ever sung to. Now, she was just the first. She couldn't hear what he was singing to the girl, but she bet it was beautiful, and her heart ached a little bit more. She didn't know why she was still standing there and torturing herself by watching them; but her feet had been glued to the grass and now she couldn't move.

Harry finally laid the guitar aside as he scooted closer, and so did the girl. They exchanged the same kind of look they had before, but this time he leaned in and gently pressed his lips against her lips.

At that very moment, Y/N's entire world came tumbling down right before her eyes. She felt as if someone had placed hot coal by her heart and left it there to slowly burn her from inside out, and now she was struggling to even breathe. Her tears began to fall and her chest tightened as she ran back inside the house, up to her room, and collapsed on the bed the second she got to it.

It was the first time in a very long time she had cried that hard. She cried like she had never cried before. She cried because it hurt so much. That invisible pain felt worse than the time she crashed her bike into a tree, worse than when she saw her mother sobbing on the kitchen floor and her dad drunkenly shouting at everything in his sight.

So that was it then. That was what it felt like to have your heart broken by someone you truly loved. And it was much much worse than what she had imagined it would feel like. The biggest question then, was how long it was gonna last.

.

.

.

Ever since that night, Y/N had decided to stay away from the treehouse and Harry too. She doubted that he knew the reason she was avoiding him, but it seemed like he didn't care anyway. He didn't even come over to help her with her math homework like he had promised. However, she couldn't blame him. He had a girlfriend and his own life now, and if he didn't want to include her in it, then she didn't want to be a part of it.

"I saw Harry's girlfriend holding hand with someone else today," Celine told her while they were having a sleepover. It'd been two months since Y/N witnessed the treehouse kiss, and as much as she'd like to act calm and cool about this news, she couldn't stop the worrisome from showing on her face.

"Do you think she's cheating on Harry?" She asked, and sighed in relief when Celine said no.

"They broke up last week I think. My brother's friends with that girl, he told me so."

Y/N didn't say anything else and carried on with the book in her hand. Though she never asked Celine about Harry again, she did wonder if he'd felt heartbroken or even cried as much as she had over him. She used to know everything about him and vice versa; now she had to make up her own version of what was going on in his life.

What could be sadder than that?

.

.

.

A year had passed in a blink of an eye and Harry had finally finished high school. Y/N didn't attend his graduation, but Celine told her all about it because she'd come to support her brother. From what Y/N had heard, she wanted to turn eighteen and finish high school as well, so she could finally leave Holmes Chapel for good.

She used to tell Harry that she wanted to become a writer, and one day she would write a movie for him to play the main character. Little did she knew, she'd already written one. He was the main character in every single entry in her journal. After everything, after the silence, the getting over him, the acting like they'd never been friends, she missed him terribly, more than she was willing to admit.

"Y/N! Harry is here to see you!"

Y/N thought she was dreaming when she heard her mother's voice from the front door. She needed to double check by pinching herself to make sure everything was real, and quickly ran downstairs, afraid that he couldn't be patient enough to wait for her.

"Mum, where's Harry?" She asked in shock as her mother walked back inside after closing the door.

"He just left, but he told you to meet him at his treehouse."

Y/N didn't hesitate, not even for a second.

She ran for her life to the backyard, trying to catch her breath as she made it to the big tree. Now tall enough to get on the lowest branch without the help of the fence, the girl climbed up the rope ladder, to their place, where the boy she loved was waiting for her.

Harry turned his head as soon as he heard her voice at the entrance. He got up from the dusty wooden floor, smiling at the girl. Now they were standing in the same spots on the night they first met. His eyes were still as green as she remembered. They were every hue of the summer forest, accentuated by his tanned complexion and his dark brown strands. She had always written about how that beautiful shade of green would bring her home and give her hope no matter what happened. But this time, hope wasn't what she saw. Instead, it was a mixture of sadness and regret. She could only wish that her instinct was wrong.

They sat down side by side on the edge of their little house with bare feet dangling in the air. It was dark outside, and the calming sound of crickets singing was like a celebration song to welcome another summer. It had been too long since the last time they got to be together like that. She stole a secret glance at the boy she loved who was staring blankly ahead, then she smiled, loving how everything still felt the same, at least for her.

The conversation began with small talks about school, about his sister and his mum, about Celine, about her parents' fight every single night. She was waiting for him to mention his ex-girlfriend, or maybe new girlfriend, but he didn't. He didn't say a word about any other girl, and she was thankful for that.

But then, after taking what seemed like the longest pause ever, Harry finally said what he was there to say, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. To London."

Y/N could feel her entire body turn to stone as those words left his mouth. She released a nervous laugh and asked him if he was only joking, to which he shook his head and confirmed that he was serious.

He told her he'd got accepted into a film school, and he couldn't wait to pursue his childhood dream of being a famous actor. But what about her dream, the one that she had told Celine when they first became friends, did this mean her dream would never come true?

"I'll come back and visit you next summer," he said. But she knew it was a lie. It really was a lie. He didn't come back for her, not next summer, or the one after that. "I wanted to see you one last time before I left...Bambi, say something."

There it was, that nickname again. She used to hate it so much because she didn't want to be that weak and innocent Disney character in his eyes, she wanted to be strong and mature enough for him. But now that she knew she would never get to hear him call her that again, she wanted to burst out crying immediately. Taking a deep breath and holding back the tears that were forming in her eyes, she turned to look at him.

"I'm really happy for you, H," she said with a sad smile. And she believed, as a boy, he couldn't see it.

Harry smiled back at her, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He told her to be strong when he wasn't around, and take care of herself even though he knew there was also Celine.

"This treehouse is all yours now," he told her. "Please look after it?"

"I will," she gave him her words, silently swearing to herself that she would never let anyone else enter their place, ever.

It was late, and Harry was about to say his last goodbye, but Y/N cut him off just as he opened his mouth. "Harry...Can I ask you for one last favor?"

"Anything, kid. Tell me."

"Can you...Uhm...Will you..." She exhaled deeply and took his hand in hers. "Will you be my first kiss?"

At first, Harry thought the girl was kidding. However, the look in her eyes told him otherwise, and the grin slowly faded from his handsome face. "I don't think I should be your first kiss, Y/N. You should save it for the boy you like."

"But you...are the boy I like."

That sentence got Harry all tongue-tied.

He didn't know what to say. He was eighteen and she was fourteen. She was too young. Even though she wanted him to be her first kiss, and had kindly asked him to, he didn't think he could do it without feeling guilty. So he just sat there, motionless, while staring at her with his eyes widened and mouth agape.

Y/N, on the other hand, had lost her patience. If that was gonna be their last goodbye, she would make it meaningful. Without saying another word, she cupped his face and brought her lips to his, only to pull away a second later. It was barely what one would call a kiss, but to her it was everything.

Without waiting for his reaction, she stood up and hurried her way down the ladder. She landed on her feet and ran as fast as she could back to her house, away from the tree, away from Harry, and she didn't look back, not even once.

The next morning, when she woke up, he had already gone. She did come over and knock on his door, but his mother Anne answered it and said he had left before sunrise. So Y/N walked home once again with her head hung low. She thought about last night, about her first kiss, about him, and in her head, she replayed the same two words he had said to her many years ago.

His girl.

[ranjxtul]

Surprises

Here we have a completely modern AU of Aralyn that is literally 2000 words of fluff. Which let’s be real, we all need it after the angst this fandom produces. (Ft. Vicky!Boleyn in honor of Nina) 

It was rare that Catherine didn’t wake up to an alarm. One of the hallmarks of her daily patterns was her propensity to set an alarm for six in the morning, regardless of what the day might hold in store, and start her day. The comfort which routine brought help Catherine start the day more grounded. If she had nowhere to be, she’d wiggle her way out of Anne’s arms enough to reach her phone and by extension her bible app. It felt right to start her day out with a bit of peace and meditation.

When Anne woke up, they’d trek downstairs and Aragon would make breakfast for themselves and Mary and Liz (assuming they already hadn’t gotten up and eaten). Then, their day would proceed as normal.

It was a challenge to get Catherine to divert from that normal routine, so it had to be done seldom and usually sneakily. Anne had tried to get her to rest on Saturdays, saying the alarm sound disturbed her sleep, but her wife was no fool. Anne slept harder than anyone she knew. A number of excuses after that fell on deaf ears.

In turn, Anne nearly gave up trying to pull Catherine from her routine unless it was absolutely necessary. They could agree on when that was usually, such as Christmas Day or something of the like, but sometimes Anne and Catherine vastly disagreed.

Aragon never saw the need for sleeping in unless she was sick. Even if she’d been up late, the idea of disrupting her pattern and day didn’t appeal to her. She could nap during the day if needed, at least that’s how she saw it. This fact made it difficult for Anne to ever surprise Catherine with anything in the mornings, like breakfast or gifts or anything of that nature.

Even on her birthday, Catherine got up before Anne did, which made the idea of surprising her with breakfast in bed only a pleasant idea.

That was until Mary suggested to Anne just turning her alarm off once she’d fallen asleep. The teenager had assured Anne she’d rally Elizabeth in the morning and help with the surprise also.

So, on the eve of Catherine’s birthday, Anne lay alert in bed, holding her wife, waiting until her breathing evened out. “Love?” Catherine mumbled groggily. “You okay? You’re moving around a lot.”

Anne tightened her grip on Catherine a bit, taking a deep breath in and out. She supposed anticipation had gotten the better of her and subconsciously she’d been fidgeting. “I’m good babe, just not tired I guess. I ended up taking a nap while you were at work,” the lie slipped easily through her teeth.

“Really? You thought it’d be a bright idea to take a nap at 19:00?” Catherine’s teasing snark shone through even in her exhaustion as subconsciously curled closer to Anne.

“Hey, I didn’t know how late you’d be back. Those youth group kids could keep you late,” Anne joked back.

“Mhm,” Catherine nodded tiredly, amusement not lost in her want to sleep.

Anne smiled at Catherine’s sleepiness, frankly it was adorable, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” came her reply before the couple fell into silence again. This time, Anne focused on staying as still as she could. Soon enough, Catherine’s breaths evened out signifying a slumber. Once Anne was sure she wouldn’t wake her wife, she slipped out of the bed to turn the alarm off.

After she’d done so, she lay back in the bed, a self-satisfied smile across her face. Unsurprisingly, Anne fell asleep quickly and hard. Her original worry had been how she’d get up without waking Catherine up, but Mary offered to wake her instead.  

At approximately eight in the morning, as Anne had refused any earlier, the fourteen year old slipped into her mom and step mom’s bedroom and over to Boleyn’s side of the bed, “Mum!” She whisper-yelled. No response. With a slight roll of her eyes, she shook Anne gently, “Mum!” She tried again.

This time, much to her relief, blue eyes squinted up at her. “Hm?” a groggy voice came next.

“Breakfast?” Mary reminded her, glancing over at the still sleeping form of her mother. Catherine was not a light sleeper, but by no means was she a heavy sleeper. Too much speaking or movement could disturb her.

It took Anne’s brain a moment to catch up before, her eyes suddenly became alert, “Oh, yeah. You’re absolutely right,” she replied blinking a few times to chase away the last traces of sleep. The blonde pushed herself out of bed as gently as possible, sparing a glance to see that her wife truly was still asleep.

She let out a short sigh of relief to see that she was still deep asleep, probably exhausted from work, but too stubborn to admit. That fact alone made Anne want to surprise Catherine even more, the fact that it was her birthday just made the idea even more appealing.

“What are we making Mum? Mary wouldn’t tell me!” Asked an excited Elizabeth  as Anne and Mary made their way into the hall to meet the eleven year old.

“Because I don’t know?” Mary quipped from beside Anne. “I was just in on the general plan and told to get you in on it. So,” she turned to Anne, “what are we making?”

“I thought maybe an omelette and I could go get her a latte from that cafe she likes?” Anne suggested glancing at the two girls.

“Sure, sounds good,” Mary nodded.

“Think you can manage not to burn the kitchen down?” Sassed Elizabeth.

Mary rolled her eyes, “Better than you could, Liz.”

Anne let out a quiet laugh, “If that’s settled then. Let’s get to work, and please text me if something does happen in the kitchen,” she raised her brow for a second until the two before her nodded.

“We got it,” Mary assured with a sigh grabbing Elizabeth’s wrist to drag her down to the kitchen. Anne watched them go for a moment before she slipped back into her and Catherine’s room. She could drive through at the cafe, so she didn’t bother changing out of her pajamas. She only slipped on a pair of shoes and grabbed her phone off the charger.

As she passed by the kitchen, she could hear Mary and Elizabeth playfully bickering about something or another, and that brought a smile to her face. Years ago, she never would have imagined having a family like this.

Thankfully, getting coffee was a quick and painless process and Anne was back in no time. Traffic hadn’t been bad considering it’d been an early enough.

Savory smells hit her the minute she stepped back into the house, “How’s it coming?” she asked, making sure her voice was low as she entered the kitchen holding Catherine’s coffee.

Mary looked up from the stove, “Nearly there. You could go wake her now and surprise her with that first and we’ll be up there in a few?” the girl suggested, a certain joyful glint shining in her eye. The idea that they’d finally get a chance to appreciate her mother made her happy. Surprising her was nearly impossible, so it was rare anyone actually got to do anything like this for Catherine.

“Brilliant idea, Mary,” Anne replied with a playful wink before turning to head back upstairs. Once she cracked open the bedroom door, she was relieved to see Aragon’s curled up sleeping form. With a small smile on her face, Anne slipped her shoes off and carefully crawled back into bed, setting the coffee cup on the bedside table for the moment. “Babe?” she asked gently shaking her wife’s shoulder.

Not a minute later, Aragon’s eyes snapped open, more alert than normal (due to sleeping longer than usual, most likely). The light flooding in from the window clued her in to the fact that it was much later than she normally awoke. Why had her alarm not gone off? Then it hit her, it was her birthday.

She rolled over to face Anne’s warm presence, “You turned my alarm off didn’t you?” she asked a brow raised.

“What? Not a ‘good morning?’ Anne teased. “If you must know though, I did turn your alarm off, but only to properly surprise you,” she paused to reach over and get the paper cup, “happy birthday babe. Got you that vanilla latte from that little cafe you like,” she continued, a grin spreading across her face.

Aragon couldn’t help but smile back at Anne’s infectious grin and the sincere gratitude coursing through her veins at the surprise. She propped herself up against the pillows before taking the cup from Anne and leaning over to plant a kiss on her lips. “Thank you, love. I really appreciate it,” she said as she pulled back from the kiss.

She took a tentative sip of the beverage, pleased to find that it had already cooled off enough. “Of course!” Anne responded, sliding out of bed once more. Catherine furrowed her brow as the blonde opened a drawer in her vanity. In her hand, she held a small wrapped box. “Here!” she said a bit excitedly as got back into bed. “Thought I’d give you that before the kids get in here.”

Aragon took the small box appraisingly and set the coffee aside for a moment, “Thank you, for everything so far. I love you,” She leaned over to peck Anne’s cheek before she unwrapped her present.

“God, I love when you’re in a good mood. It gets me so much affection, and I love you too,” she quipped, watching Catherine open the gift. Inside, was a pair of simple, thin, gold hoops.

Catherine gently picked them up from the box examining them, “You’re so sweet, Anne. Thank you, I love them.” It touched her even still, that her wife had been thoughtful enough to buy her such a fitting gift. It was clear the gift had quite a bit of thought behind it.

“Anything for you, babe.” At that moment, Mary and Elizabeth made their way into their parents’ room.

“Happy Birthday, Mum!” Liz brightly greeted. Aragon’s face lit up even more seeing the two girls, and it didn’t hurt that Mary was carrying a plate of food.

“Thank you, darling,” Aragon said nodding for the two to come closer.

“We made you breakfast,” Elizabeth continued.

“I see, thank you both. It means the world to me,” she said taking the plate of food and for the moment, placing it beside the coffee so she could embrace the two.

“Happy Birthday,” Mary said over her shoulder, happily reciprocating the warm hug. Elizabeth stayed silent, but wrapped her arms around Catherine.

“I love you guys so much,” she gave a final squeeze to the two girls in her arms before she let go of them so she could begin to eat her breakfast.

In hindsight, it was a wonder nobody had burned the kitchen down, that is if Anne had been cooking. “You cook this, love?” Catherine asked nudging Anne, in between bites.

“I did,” Mary piped up. “She got your coffee… and it’s probably best that’s what she did,” the teen laughed as Anne rolled her eyes.

“Well, it tastes lovely.” She glanced at Anne, “And I hate to say it, but Mary’s probably right.” Anne was a disaster in the kitchen, and everyone in the house and in immediate or extended family knew it. This was the prime reason Aragon cooked most of the time.

With an overdramatic groan, Anne declared, “Really? Is this exposing the love of your life,” and to Mary, “your mum, hours?”

At that, Catherine couldn’t help but laugh. In that moment, she felt whole and grounded. This life with Anne and their daughters was one she wouldn’t trade for the world. It might not have been exactly as Catherine envisioned to begin with, but now, she couldn’t imagine her life any other way.  

( tags: @footprintsinthefallingsnow @casual-crispy  @cosmicmila @lailaliquorice @second--butthole @sixcastappreciation) 

[jyvaswriting]

The Lake

On his fifty-fourth exploration outside, Riley found a stranger sitting on a plateau above a lake. It could have been one of the looters. But from the way he sat, from the way he was gazing at the water, from the way he was letting the rain soak through to his skin, it was clear that he wasn’t a threat. So Riley approached him.

“Hey,” Riley said.

The stranger shifted in his spot and turned around. It was another boy, his face worn and tired as every other survivor Riley had met. “Hey,” said the stranger. “Who are you?”

“I’m Riley,” he said, coming to sit down next to him. “You?”

“Me? I’m… well, I’m dead.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you have no suit on?”

“Yup. Had a hole in it that I didn’t see. Wandered through a risky spot a few weeks ago, and now… Yeah.” The stranger looked aside at Riley, and smiled a bit. “Don’t have to wear all that shit now, though. Yours looks silly.”

Riley looked down at his chest, where he had an oversized raincoat, over a jumper, over a jacket, over two shirts. “It is a bit big for me. Our bunker didn’t have any proper hazmat suits.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best. Harder to get poisoned with… is that four layers? Four layers, over two.”

“It’s five,” Riley said. “I’ve got two shirts on.”

“Geez. Doesn’t it get hot, Riley?”

“I got used to it.”

“No thanks. Look at me,” the stranger said. “I’m dead, but I’m freer than you and everyone else now. Free as anyone can get nowadays.”

“Free because you can wear whatever you want now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t think so,” Riley said. “If you went naked you would be free as anyone could get.”

“I’m dead, not crazy. I still have some modesty.”

The two chuckled for a bit, then it died away, and they both looked down at the lake together. The only sounds were of the rain and wind and trees and Riley’s respirator.

 “I came here ‘cause I wanted to see something nice, for once, before I died,” the stranger said. “I went to a lot of places, y’know. After giving all my stuff away. I asked around to see if people knew any pretty areas. Walked down this big empty road. Went through this forest. Saw some cool old street art. And I thought this lake would be good, but, well…” he held up his hand to indicate the rain. “World said ‘nope’.”

“You should’ve checked your suit for holes,” Riley said.

“Yeah. Should’ve. Should’ve worn more layers as well. Should’ve not gone to a radioactive abandoned supermarket that was already cleaned out. Should’ve not said rude things to my mum. Should’ve.” The stranger’s voice broke, and he covered his face, and Riley saw his thin hands. Piano-wire tendons stuck out underneath his eroding skin. Riley rummaged inside his bag.

“Here,” he said, holding out a muesli bar.

The stranger looked up, and he gave Riley a weird half-smile. “Dude, I’m a goner. There’s no point. You need it more than me. Put it back, silly.”

Riley only held it closer to his face, and after a moment, the stranger sighed and accepted it.

“How long has it been since you ate?” Riley asked, as the stranger took apart the wrapping.

“Few days. A bit after I found out.”

“You need water too?”

The stranger’s eyes flickered over to Riley, and Riley took that as a yes. He brought out his bottle and watched as half of it was gulped down in two seconds.

“Don’t blame me if you get thirsty on the way home,” the stranger said, licking his lips and handing it back.

Riley took it without a word, and there was a pause.

“Thanks,” said the stranger.

“So you really do still have some modesty.”

“Ha!” the stranger grinned, and Riley grinned back.

 The two boys gazed back at the still lake again, one with only a stained white shirt and shorts, the other with an oversized raincoat and a jumper and a jacket and two shirts and gloves and two pairs of long pants and his bag.

The stranger’s eyes went to it.

“What? Riley said. “Want more?”

“No,” said the stranger. “I was just thinking about something.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Well, you’ve got a gun, right?”

“Yeah. A pistol.”

“I’ve got one of my own. Was gonna use it on myself, but… I’ve been scared. Even though I know I’m already dead. And I think it’s broken by now, anyway. Can I ask you something, Riley?”

“Yes.”

“Can you shoot me? It’s starting to hurt now. The radiation. I was planning to go to other places, but this isn’t so bad. Even though it’s raining. And…. And it’d be nice to have a friend do it, even if that sounds a bit morbid.”

“All I did was give you a muesli bar and some water,” Riley said.

“More than anyone’s given me for a long time.”

“Can’t be friends if I don’t know your name.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The stranger hesitated for a moment, swallowed a lump in his throat. “Will you remember it?”

“I will.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “It’s Jay.”

“Hi, Jay. I’m Riley.”

“Nice to meet you, Riley…” Jay turned his head away, and when he came back he had an exasperated scowl. “This is dumb.”

“Huh?”

“I’m about to let myself get shot by someone I met like ten minutes ago, who’s gonna be the only friend I have left, and I can’t even see your face properly.”

There was one more long, quiet moment, and then Riley’s hands went up to his head. His fingers slid over to the clasps on his respirator, and then Jay grabbed his arm.

“What the heck are you doing?”

“I’m taking my respirator off—”

“What? Are you kidding me? Just for a dumb nice moment? Take your hands off it, man.”

“I don’t think there’s any radiation here anyway.”

“Not worth it,” Jay said. “Listen, I’ll accept that I’m maybe still worth a muesli bar and some water, but not your damn life. Alright? Not worth the risk. Keep the thing on, you idiot.” Riley dropped his arms, and Jay relaxed, slumping back on his elbows. “Jesus Christ, you are dumb.”

“I just wanted to be nice.”

“You already gave me food and water. And I can still see your eyes, Riley.”

“Oh.”

“…They’re pretty nice eyes. Dumb as hell, though.”

“Thanks?”

“I think we could’ve been good friends, Riley.”

“I think so too,” Riley said.

 It had stopped raining. They looked into the lake as the raindrops slowly stopped dripping down Riley’s raincoat and the clouds parted and sunlight began to shine weakly down onto the water, reflecting off the blue ripples.

Jay looked up. “Whoa. Sky’s decided to be nice. I think that’s my cue.”

Riley looked sideways. “You’re… ready to go?”

“Yeah. Just make sure you do it in one shot or I’ll start screaming and the noise will be really annoying. Actually, shoot me several times just to make sure, okay?”

“Okay. What about your body?”

Jay squinted. “Want the view to yourself, do you?” Riley opened his mouth, and Jay stopped him in his tracks. “No. Don’t talk. I can already tell you were gonna say something dumb. It was a joke. I’m not gonna ask you to dig a grave so… you can, uh… toss me in the lake, I guess?”

“But then you’d ruin the view,” Riley said, straight-faced, and Jay burst out laughing, and his glee was cut short by pained coughs.

“Oh, man. Ow. Okay. Yeah. I’m ready.” Jay got into a kneeling position, then frowned and sat with his legs straight, then went cross-legged, then went back to kneeling. “Okay.”

Riley reached into his bag and found his gun. Checked it. “Okay?”

“Okay. No, wait—” Jay held his hand up just as Riley cocked the pistol, and went searching inside his back pockets. He pulled out a banged-up old pistol, some Tic-Tacs, and a small camera. “Here,” he said. “Save you the trouble of looting my corpse.” Riley accepted them, and put them in his bag.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No, thank you.” Jay held up his fist. “BFFs?” he asked, with a small, wry smile.

Riley bumped it. “Yeah. BFFs.”

Jay took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready. For real, this time.”

Riley held up his pistol and found his hand was trembling. “It… It was nice knowing you, Jay,” he said.

“It was nice knowing you too, Riley,” Jay said. “See you later.”

Riley held the gun to Jay’s temple.

“See you.”

Jay closed his eyes, and Riley pulled the trigger.

[ktrsss1fics]

What do you think would happen if like Fergie and Niall were out somewhere and Marcus just so happened to be there, or if a mutual friend outside the normal group were to bring him to something 😯

When Georgina Ferguson moved to America, she expected to miss a few things. At the top of that list was her nan’s Sunday roast, her brother’s complaints about the weather, and heading to The Lane with her father. She loved her life in LA but when the holidays came she hated the shining sun and warm weather. She needed the rain. She needed that dark damp trip to the shops for discounted Christmas sweets. She needed home.

Her trip home for the holidays was everything she had hoped it would be. She baked sweets with her mother, who gushed all about their best mate Niall sending a Christmas bouquet to the accounting firm where she worked. She headed to the pub with her baby brother, who had a beard now and talked about investing in rental property in Florida. She spent the night over at her grandparents house, where she learned four new jokes about the holiday season. As much as she loved her mother’s cooking and her grandad’s bad jokes, something was missing. The family that had graciously taken her in and the boy who had her heart were nowhere to be found.

She wasn’t the only person who was feeling a little bit empty. After a sad emoji filled group chat, the Bat Signal was sent out and a night at the pub was quickly organized. Fortunately for everyone, Mags’ parents were ringing in the new year at their country home so their mini mansion in the heart of London was free to use. Bags were packed, a plane ticket was bought, and it wasn’t long before they were throwing back pints and gossiping about sleeping in their childhood bed.

“So Ferg, is Alex still single?” Mags asked taking a small sip of her glass of wine.

“Uh yeah. Why?” Georgina replied confused by the question about her baby brother.

“Margaret Fairchild, you bitch.” Jenna mumbled across the table – cheeks as rosy as the wine in her glass.

“What?” Mags smirked. “Just trying to help a sister out.”

Georgina’s attention turned towards Jenna, “What’s going on? Do you think my kid brother’s fit?”

Jenna’s blush deepened. “You’ve got good genes in the Ferguson family. And he’s an attractive boy. Mags and I were just talking about how I haven’t had a date in a while. Alex’s name was brought up.”

“As was Ni’s but she turned it down.” Mags said, “Sound familiar Ferguson?”

“I already told you. It’d be weird.” Jenna explained. “He’s like my brother and I’m pretty sure he’d say no even if I tried.”

“He’d probably say yes.” Britt said. “You never know.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’m not going on a pity date with Niall. Because that’s what it’d be. He would take pity on me and say yes and it’d be a disaster.”

“That’s why we settled on Alex.” Mags said nudging Georgina. “So, what d’ya say Ferg? Wanna set Jenna up?”

“You’re way too good for him.” Georgina smiled. “But I’ll give you his number if you want.”

“Brilliant.” Jenna smiled as Dave’s laugh erupted from the other end of the table.

“Does he always have to be that loud?” Georgina teased looking at her best friend.

“Apparently he does. He doesn’t understand the concept of silence especially when you are trying to have sex in your childhood bed with your parents right next door.” Brittany sighed.

The rest of the girls erupted into laughter.

“Oh god! Jamie is the same way.” Mags said embarrassed. “I think it’s a male defect.”

“Were the ‘rents mad?” Jenna asked.

“Dad acted as if he didn’t hear it. Me mum was up me arse all morning about protection and sexually-transmitted diseases.” Brittany explained.

“At least the whole house didn’t hear.” Jenna smiled.

“Not true. Soph heard it as well.” Georgina said softly.

Britt shook her head. “Why’s she tellin’ you for?”

“No idea. It’s just as cringey for me as it was for you.” Georgina laughed.

“Younger siblings are annoying.” Brittany grumbled into her pint glass.

“Speaking of annoying, what the fuck is Keith wearing?” Mags mumbled as the girls started to pick apart their friend’s outfit.

At the other end of the table, glasses were empty and a very raunchy story of Keith’s time in Essex was being told. Having heard enough of the drunken debauchery, Dave decided to head to the bar to pick up the next round of drinks. He placed his order with the barmaid and waited patiently to he served. He rested against the bar top as the scores of that day’s college bowl games came on.

A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder forcing his eyes away from the television screen. He was met by the smug expression of a person he never thought he’d see again.

“Do my eyes deceive me? David fuckin Watson back in boring ol’ London. Thought you were an American now.” The buzzed blonde smirked.

David almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Standing in front of him in an overpriced sweater with a pint of Stella was Marcus Mills, the man who broke his best friend’s heart one too many times.

“Y’alright Marcus?” Dave said emotionless.

“Couldn’t be better.” Marcus said squeezing Dave’s shoulder. “How’ve ya been?”

“Good, good. Busy with work. Just bought a house with Britt. Really enjoying California.” Dave said scanning the bar for their drinks. “Came back for the holidays. Just the usual stuff.”

“Brilliant.” Marcus said releasing Dave from his grasp.

“Me mum told me you moved to Paris?” Dave asked trying to be polite.

“Yeah was there for a bit. I was working for a start-up. It didn’t work out. But now, I got a job working for United – VIP ticket sales.” Marcus said with an arrogant glint in his eye. “Met the Queen. Had lunch with Becks a few times. Free tickets whenever I please.”

“Wow. Living the dream.” Dave replied dryly.

“Indeed. How’s Brittany? You give in and marry her yet?” Marcus asked nonchalantly scanning the room.

“No not yet. But I’m working on it.” Dave said. “She’s good. Hasn’t really changed.”

“Still a proper pain in the dick then.” Marcus winked.

Dave rolled his eyes. He knew Marcus was searching for a laugh but Dave couldn’t even muster up enough strength to fake one. He searched for the barmaid once more. He needed a way out of this conversation. There was one more person they had in common and he knew if she was brought up he wouldn’t have nice things to say.

“So Davey, heard a rumor.” Marcus said before taking a sip of his drink. “I guess Georgina moved out to your neck of the woods. Ever hear from her?”

Thinking on his feet, Dave moved to his right. His shoulder would prevent Marcus from seeing where Georgina was sat. He knew it would be bad news if Marcus found out she was there. He had to protect her. Georgina was in a good place. He didn’t know what was going on between her and Niall but he knew that she needed time to figure that out. Dave wanted to give her that time. He quickly thought of a lie hoping it’d prevent anything from happening.

“We uh lost touch with her.” Dave replied shortly.

Marcus’ face fell for a moment. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

Dave faked a smile and turned towards the bar trying to flag down the woman who was supposed to be preparing his drinks. With an apologetic smile, she quickly filled five glasses and placed them down on the wooden bartop. He threw some cash down prepared to leave.

“It was great seeing you mate, but uh I gotta get back.” Dave said nodding towards the drinks.

“Oh yeah no worries.” Marcus grinned.

Just when Dave thought he was in the clear, a loud boom of laughter erupted from behind them. A deep sigh escaped his lips as three very specific laughs stood out. Only one of them mattered though.

One of them sent the blonde haired man standing in front of him into a frenzy. Dave watched as Marcus peered over his shoulder. A determined hunger filled his blue eyes.

“S’that Fergie?” Marcus asked licking his lip.

“Doesn’t really matter if it is.” Dave said stepping into Marcus’ line of vision.

Running a hand through his hair, Marcus glanced up at Dave. “It’d be good to catch up with her. Been about four or five years.”

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Dave said quickly.

“How do you know that?” Marcus asked distracted.

“Why would she give a piece of shit like you the time of day?” Dave asked – his voice thick with disgust.

“Dave-o, really? Still on that cheating mess. That was ages ago. She’s probably forgotten all about those birds.” Marcus said clamping his hand on Dave’s arm.

Dave’s body tensed as his eyes focused on the man standing in front of him. “You even think to go on that side of the pub and you will regret it. I can promise you that.”

Marcus stared back bewildered. “Cool the jets, mate. Just want to speak to me girl.”

“You’ve done enough damage, you melt.” Dave said not backing down. “Leave her be.”

“Davey, c’mon.” Marcus smiled trying to win the tall man over.

“She’s finally happy mate. Like she’s finally able to trust people again. Why would you want to ruin that?” Dave asked.

Marcus opened his mouth to speak but Dave shook his head. He stepped forward closing the space between them.

“You know what? You go anywhere near her, I will end you. S'that clear, Mills?” Dave spat.

Without a second thought, David carefully picked up his drinks and walked back to where the group was sat. His brow hitched together as a worried expression covered his face. He almost couldn’t believe what had just happened. Out of all the pubs in London, they chose the one place where the scum of the earth dwelled.

He knew he needed a plan. He needed a way to keep Fergie from finding out. There were two people who could distract her while he kept an eye on Marcus. One of them would be out for blood and the other was Niall. No matter how much Dave thought Brittany loved him, she loved Georgina Ferguson more. Given the chance, she would murder Marcus for what he did. That was the last thing their group needed. He ran through a few different variations of what he was going to say before deciding on one. With a pep in his step, he set the drinks on the table before grabbing two glasses and heading for Brittany.

Dave glanced at Georgina as he slid behind his girlfriend. He placed the drinks he had bought in front of the two women before leaning down and whispering in Brittany’s ear.

“JenJen, you could have that.” Mags nodded towards Keith. “I mean talk about lady killer.”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” Jenna mumbled making Georgina and Mags laugh.

Dave looked between the three women in front of him locking eyes with Georgina for a moment.

“Took you long enough.” Fergie chirped with a playful grin.

Dave flipped her off, continuing his conversation with Britt. Jenna laughed before diving into a story about her cousins on Christmas. Georgina tuned out. She was too busy watching Dave talk to Brittany. The serious look in his eye was a bit alarming.

“Shit.” Brittany whispered before glancing up at Georgina.

Dave didn’t respond. He quickly placed a kiss on her temple and left.

Brittany sighed before pretending to listen to Jenna’s story. Georgina watched Dave make his way back to the boys. He plastered a fake smile on his face before picking up his glass. Something was off but Georgina couldn’t figure out what it was.

She reached across the table and nudged her best friend, “Everything alright B?”

“His card was declined.” Brittany replied before letting out a sigh. “Too much holiday spending.”

“Oh. I can buy us the next round if you want.” Georgina offered.

“It’s okay G.” Brittany smiled. “We’ll sort it out.”

Georgina nodded before settling back into the conversation with the girls.

“Ferg!” Mags called out catching her attention. “What about Nasty Nate?”

“Jens can do better than him.” Georgina said. “What about the bloke from your building?”

“Well, I’m still feeling that one out.” Jenna smiled. “Flirted a bit in the lift when I was leaving for the airport. He seemed receptive.”

“I say keep working on that one. He’s fit.” Brittany said with a playful wink.

“Who’s fit?” The Irish accent of a slightly tipsy pop star asked.

“Not you.” Georgina mumbled as he slid into the empty seat beside her.

“No one asked your opinion, Ferguson.” Niall teased.

Brittany kicked Georgina under the table causing her to look up. “Be nice.”

“Yes Mum.” Georgina rolled her eyes making the others laugh.

“So what’re we gossipin’ about?” Niall asked resting his chin in his hand.

“Just trying to find someone for Jenna to date.” Mags said. “Know anyone?”

“Besides that bellend over there?” Niall nodded towards Keith.

“Fuck you. I’m not datin’ him.” Jenna stated finishing off her glass of wine.

“So far, we’ve got my baby brother and the bloke from her building.” Georgina explained.

“Stephen. His name is Stephen,” Jenna added.

“She’s interested in someone that’s name rhymes with Schmarry Schmyles.” Mags joked playfully.

“Don’t know if he’s single but I can find out.” Niall laughed. “Shawny’s single, I think.”

“He’s a baby though.” Jenna blushed thinking about Ni’s lovely friend Shawn.

“Who the fuck cares? So are you,” Niall said giving her a confused look.

“You’re an idiot.” Jenna shoved him playfully.

“Ni, quick question, would you go on a date with Jens?” Brittany asked with a cheeky grin.

“Sure, love. Where do you want to go?” Niall asked taking a hold of Jenna’s hand.

Georgina giggled as she watched Jenna’s face turn a slight shade of pink.

“I’m not feeling the ‘Let’s Set Jenna Up’ Game anymore.” Jenna rolled her eyes as Niall let go of her hand.

“Jenna thinks it’d just be a pity date.” Brittany explained. “We said you’d genuinely give it a go.”

“I’ll take ya out if you want.” Niall said sweetly.

Jenna’s skin grew warmer. “It’s okay.”

“I was starting to like the ‘Set Jenna Up’ Game.” Mags said.

“Why aren’t you trying to set Fergie up?” Niall asked taking a sip from Georgina’s drink.

“That’s rude.” Georgina whined stealing her drink back.

“We aren’t setting Fergie up because she’s finally in a good place.” Mags explained. “She’s happy. She’s got an ace flat. Her job is top notch. She’s got proper friends. She’s feeling herself. She’s got this confidence about her.”

Georgina blushed from the older woman’s compliments.

“We aren’t just gonna throw some bloke in there to fuck everything up.” Mags said. “She deserves to be happy for once.”

“Thanks Margaret.” Georgina said with an appreciative look.

“So basically, you’re sick of her tellin ya no.” Niall teased playfully.

Georgina smacked him across the back of the head. “Bastard.”

“We’ll give her a year then regroup.” Mags said scooting her chair back.

“So this time next year, be available.” Jenna winked causing a slow blush to creep across the cheeks of the pair of friends.

“Smashed it.” Mags patted Jenna’s shoulder. “Celebratory wine refill?”

“Top me off love.” Jenna grinned holding up her glass.

“Come with me so I can get some for these two pains in the tit.” Mags joked nodding towards the other two ladies in their group.

As they left for the bar, Niall relaxed in his seat. Brittany pulled out her phone and quickly started texting someone. He crossed his arms over his chest and began to study her face. He knew something was going on. Dave was in a sour mood and Brittany knew why. He knew if he could get Brittany to just look at him then he could figure it out.

Niall tried his best to send a telepathic message to Brittany but it was no use. She wasn’t budging. Her eyes were focused on her cellphone. He cleared his throat hoping it’d help. It didn’t. It simply granted him the attention of the girl sitting beside him.

“What are you looking at?” Niall sighed turning his attention towards Georgina.

“Why are you trying to get Britt’s attention?” Georgina asked softly.

“There’s a disturbance in the force.” He whispered.

“You feel it too?” She nodded slowly.

“What happened?” He asked leaning into her.

“Dave came over and whispered a bunch in her ear and when I asked what was wrong, she lied. She claims he said his card was declined,” Georgina said explaining what she knew.

“He just told me to come over here and keep you company.” Niall grabbed her glass and took a brief sip. “But he looks like someone pissed in his Weetabix.”

“That’s odd.” Georgina said grabbing her pint back. “Stop you’re gonna drink it all.”

“I’ll buy ya another other. I’ve got the next round.” He said patting her leg gently.

“Ask her what’s wrong.” Georgina said before taking a slow sip of her drink.

“Fine.” He whispered before moving away from her.

Niall cupped his hands over his mouth hoping to enhance the sound of his voice, “Britt!”

The young woman’s eyes lifted off the screen of her phone and landed on his. “Yeah?”

“What’s going on with you and Davey?” Niall asked.

“Oh nothing.” Britt said with a fake smile.

“Bull shit.” He said pointing towards her boyfriend. “He told me to come down here and distract Ferg.”

“Maybe he’s just trying to play wingman.” Britt shrugged with a smug look on her face.

Georgina narrowed her eyes at the blonde sitting across from her, “You’re up to something Fletcher.”

“Don’t worry about it Ferguson.” Brittany replied.

“We’ll figure it out sooner or later, Ferg.” Niall said sliding his arm across the back of her chair.

“They’ll slip up. I just know it.” Georgina said referring to Dave.

“Oh whatever.” Brittany said rolling her eyes.

“You seem stressed.” Niall said leaning back.

“David likes to shag her brains out while her parents sleep next door.” Georgina smirked.

“Tell the whole bloody pub you twat!” Brittany glared.

Niall cackled loudly making Brittany smile.

Georgina rolled her eyes pretending the sound of Niall’s laugh didn’t make her insides melt.

“Did the whole house hear?” Niall asked grabbing Georgina’s drink once more.

Georgina reached out to stop him but he swatted her hand away.

“Unfortunately.” Brittany sighed. “Worse part was he wasn’t even bothered by it.”

“Ehh just shows how much you love each other, right?” Niall stated.

“I guess.” Brittany said. “It was an awkward Boxing Day experience that’s for sure.”

“Ugh! Don’t bring up Boxing Day.” Georgina groaned. “Worst day of the week.”

“You guys should have won.” Niall smirked pressing his lips to her glass.

“I swear to fucking God, Horan. If you drink any more of that I’m going to–” Georgina grumbled trying to get her drink back.

His face lit up. “You’re going to what?”

“Oi, save me spot, you muppets. Need to go ask David something.” Brittany mumbled getting up from her seat.

“Sure thing, B.” Niall said shielding Georgina with his arm.

Her eyes narrowed at him as he gulped down half of the glass.

Georgina shook her head, “You’re dead, Horan.“

Niall set down her glass, leaning in towards her ear. "I’ll make it up to you later.”

“I’m not staying at yours.” She whispered back trying to fight off a blush.

“Not tonight.” He said placing a hand on her thigh. “But I’m here for a few days. We’ve got time.”

“Maybe.” Georgina said before clearing her throat as Mags and Jenna caught her eye.

Niall casually picked up his hand and moved away from her.

“Ferg, we found another person.” Mags giggled before sitting down.

“Oh yeah? Who?” Georgina asked taking the glass of wine from her friend’s hand.

“Calvin, the guy who works with Jamie and Keith.” Jenna said sliding back into her seat.

“Jens!” Georgina said surprised by the pairing. “He’s well fit.”

“He gave Becky in accounting herpes.” Niall chimed in. “Not gonna happen JenJen.”

All three women turned towards the Irishman in shock.

“You birds aren’t the only people allowed to love a good gossip.” Niall said defending himself.

As Mags settled in her chair, a very serious conversation about Jenna’s love life began.

The next few hours were filled with two things Niall Horan loved: booze and his girlfriend’s laughter. The conversation about Jenna’s potential partner had taken a series of twists and turns until wedding planning was the only thing being discussed. He knew he should have headed back to the boys when the girls started talking about dresses but he couldn’t find it in him to leave Georgina’s side.

It was probably the amount of alcohol in his system but he swore there was something different about the way she looked at him. The light in her eyes was different. The blue was brighter and full of life. Deep down, he hoped he was the reason for it. From the moment they met, he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and after all this time he believed she finally was.

Finishing off her drink, Georgina got up and announced she was heading to the loo. Jamie was deep into telling a story about Keith’s shenanigans at the company Christmas party. Noticing the amount of empty glasses on the table, Niall took it upon himself to buy the next round. He took everyone’s order and made his way towards the bar. He waved down a barmaid and rattled off a series of drinks. She called someone else over to help her out. Niall leaned against the bar hoping he had ordered what everyone had wanted. After a few minutes, the last few drinks were being added to a tray.

“Horan!” Keith’s voice boomed from across the room. “Get me a double shot of Jack.”

Niall turned around to tell his friend to fuck off. Before the words could leave his lips, he froze.

His eyes landed on Georgina. He didn’t realize she hadn’t made it back to the table. She stood talking to someone. He couldn’t quite make out who she was speaking to but by the look on her face he knew something wasn’t right.

After some quick thinking, he bribed the bartender with twenty quid to deliver the drinks to their table. He nicked a pint off the tray before heading to see what was going on. His eyes never left her face. Something wasn’t right. A bit of anxiety started to settle in the pit of his stomach.

As he drew near, the distraught look on her face was even more evident. He carefully wedged himself between a group of women trying to get a glimpse of the person upsetting Georgina. It was a blonde haired man in a fitted grey jumper and expensive loafers. Niall was a mere foot away when she finally noticed him. Her body was tense and her jaw was clenched. She was ready for a fight. Niall slid into the space beside her.

He placed a hand on the small of her back causing her to immediately relax.

“Thought ya’d want your drink.” Niall said raising the glass in his hand.

Georgina didn’t say a word. She took the glass of what she assumed was Guinness and gulped down a good quarter of it. Niall was both impressed and slightly concerned.

“Ugh! Still can’t believe you drink that shite.” The man in front of her said disgusted.

Georgina pulled the glass away from her lips and focused on the its contents. Niall took that as a telltale he wasn’t getting any information out of her. He knew if he wanted answers he’d have to do it himself. He collected all the fake enthusiasm he could find and turned towards the man across from him. He figured if he introduced himself he could start putting the pieces together.

Niall stuck out his hand with a smile on his face, “Niall, nice t’meet ya.”

The man ignored the hand shake and kept his eyes on Georgina instead. “Seems Georgie forgot her manners.”

Niall looked between the man and his girlfriend even more confused. He had to be someone from back home. The only people Niall knew that called her Georgie were members of her family and occasionally Brittany and Dave. Before Niall had a chance to process it, the man looked over at him with the sleaziest smile he’d ever seen.

“Marcus Mills, Man United Ticketing and Membership Services.” Marcus nodded – arrogance rolling off his tongue.

Niall’s face fell. Fuck. Of all people they could run into in London, it had to be him. His hand fell off her back as strong feeling of disgust overwhelmed him. Niall wanted to knock him out and he probably would have if Georgina hadn’t reached out and grabbed his hand.

“You look familiar.” Marcus said looking Niall up and down. “Think I’ve seen ya on telly?”

“Possibly.” Niall said clearing his throat.

“Graham Norton think it was, played a tune or somethin’ right?” Marcus asked inquisitively.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Niall said as Georgina squeezed his hand. He didn’t know how to read it.

“Wow! Can’t believe Georgie’s friends with a celebrity.” Marcus laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You into football mate? I can get you some decent seats at Old Trafford.”

“No one wants to fucking go to Old Trafford.” Georgina mumbled into her glass.

“Georgie, the men are talking love.” Marcus said full of condescension before handing his business card over to Niall. “I can get you and all your celeb friends proper suites and packaged deals ‘n that.”

“Oh, uh yeah thanks but I usually just sit with Davey when we go to matches.” Niall said sticking the card in his back pocket.

“Anyways, Georgie and I were just catching up on the good ole days.” Marcus said placing a hand on Georgina’s arm. “It’s been ages.”

Georgina pulled away, stepping closer to Niall. “You and I remember things a bit differently.”

“Don’t be sore at me Georgie. Never meant any harm by it.” Marcus smiled.

“So you never meant any harm when you shagged me cousin at my great-aunt’s wake? And then my roommate at uni on my birthday? And again on Christmas? And then after graduation?” Georgina replied curtly.

“C’mon babes, you know I didn’t mean anything by that.” Marcus said making Niall sick.

“Right, right. I forgot. You never meant to cheat.” Georgina scoffed.

“Let’s just put the past behind us, yeah? I ran into Davey earlier. You and Britt still get on?” Marcus asked keeping a close eye on Niall.

“Thick as thieves.” Niall said trying to help her out.

“Don’t believe I was speaking to you mate.” Marcus winked before turning towards Georgina.

Niall could feel the heat radiate off the woman beside him. He knew he needed to find a way for them to leave. He couldn’t put her through any more of Marcus’ manipulation. He looked around to see if he could catch Dave’s attention but he couldn’t find him.

Niall gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He wanted her to know he was trying to fix things. He had been trained to be able to handle any situation thrown at him. All the training in the world couldn’t prepare him for the next bit of bullshit to spew from her ex-boyfriend’s lips.

“But uh anyways, let’s talk about you. You look fit as hell, love. Finally lost all that weight you had when we were together.” Marcus licked his lips, scanning her body hungrily.

The one thing that Niall knew Georgina Ferguson felt self-conscious about on her low days was her body. He never understood why. She was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met. He still couldn’t get over the fact that she let him see her naked. He had taken it upon himself to memorize every curve. To hear someone speak poorly about a body that belong to a person he loved made his blood boil.

“Don’t fucking speak to her that way.” Niall said stepping towards Marcus.

“Chill, mate. Just sayin she looks good. Glad she finally listened to me and hit the gym.” Marcus said smoothly.

Niall let out a sigh of frustration before turning towards Georgina, “Is he fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

Tears lined the lids of her eyes as his heart broke. Five minutes with this asshole was threatening to undo five years of hard work. He couldn’t let that happen – not to Georgina.

“Marvin, it was great to meet you but uh we have to go.” Niall said pulling Georgina behind him.

“It’s Marcus.” He said placing a hand on Niall’s chest. “And she’ll leave when she wants to leave, mate. Right Georgie?”

Niall’s eyes trailed down to the hand sitting in the middle of his chest. Where he came from, that was a bold move. It meant a fight was coming. After all the comments he had heard in the past few minutes, Niall was ready. He slipped his hand out of Georgina’s and pushed up the sleeves of his henley. If Marcus wanted a fight, he’d sure as hell get one.

The stubborn Irishman took a step forward. Before he was able to speak, he felt someone tug one of the belt loops on his jeans. He turned his attention to the woman standing behind him.

“He’s not fucking worth it.” She said. Her voice was low and serious.

“Babe…” He barely whispered.

“Not. Fucking. Worth. It.” Georgina spat.

Niall took a deep breath and turned back around. He stepped back and interlocked his finger with hers. She was right. This was neither the time nor the place.

Marcus crossed his arms as a smug expression took form. “Gonna let her chop off your balls this early in the relationship?”

“Fuck off.” Georgina rolled her eyes.

“Tsk, tsk. Be nice Georgie.” Marcus said sound pretentious. “No one likes a vulgar woman.”

Niall clenched his fist fighting the urge to beat the lousy Brit in front of him to a pulp.

“I told you to stay the fuck away from her Mills!” Dave’s loud voice echoed as he made his way towards them. Brittany followed close behind.

“She’s a fucking adult. Doesn’t need a minder Watson.” Marcus rolled his eyes.

Niall turned towards Georgina and whispered, “Go with Britt. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

He slipped his hand out of hers and stood at Dave’s side.

“Brittany Fletcher, is that really you?” Marcus said as Brittany took a hold of Georgina’s hand.

“Fuck off, ya cunt.” Brittany called out disgusted by the sight of him.

“Ooh! The bitch bites back.” Marcus joked deliberately pushing people’s buttons.

“Better watch yourself.” Dave said as his shoulders broadened.

By this point, the back of the pub was quiet. Mags and Jenna were ready to help Brittany usher Georgina out while Jamie slid into position behind Niall. No one fucked with their family.

“Let’s go babe.” Brittany said softly pulling her best friend closer to her.

“Jamie, order us an Uber.” Mags called out to her fiance.

“When are you going to grow up Marcus?” Dave asked crossing his arms over his chest.

Jenna quietly made a space in the crowd for them to escape through. Brittany started leading them away while Mags took up the rear.

“Well isn’t this is a sight for sore eyes!” Marcus shook his head. “Still need your friends to come save you, Georgie?”

Unable to let it go, Georgina pushed past Mags and made her way towards him. “At least they give a shit about me!”

Marcus smirked enjoying the sight of her getting riled up. “Sure they do.”

“And stop fucking calling me Georgie.” She spat. “You lost that privilege years ago.”

“Ooh Georgie’s testy.” Marcus sang playfully making a few men behind him laugh.

The young woman clenched her fists wanting nothing more to break his jaw. She took one more step towards the man who ruined her life. Instinctively, Niall was at her side within seconds. He forced himself between her and Marcus before cupping her cheek.

“Fergie!” Niall said calmly.

She wouldn’t look at him. Her eyes were fixated on her piece of shit ex-boyfriend.

“Georgina.” Niall said a bit stronger.

Her eyes flicked to his. They were just as angry.

“Go outside.” He said softly. “Please. For me.”

Georgina shut her eyes. The tone of his voice tugged on every string in her heart. He was right. She needed to leave. Nothing good would come from her being there. She let out a sigh silently thanking the Lord for forcing Niall Horan into her life.

“He’s got shit reflexes. If you get a hit, make it count.” She mumbled softly.

Niall’s eyes lit up as he fought back a smile. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. This beautiful woman deserved so much more than he could ever give her.

Georgina gave him a look of reassurance before turning around and leaving with the girls.

Niall took a deep breath before walking back to his spot beside Dave. A few of Marcus’ friends had taken up the space beside him. They began taunting Dave and Jamie.

“She give ya your balls back?” Marcus asked smugly.

“Fuckin’ good one mate.” Dave replied dryly making a few on-lookers snicker.

“Definitely earnin’ a BAFTA for this performance.” Jamie mumbled as Keith appeared by his side.

“Whose arse we kickin’?” Keith asked oblivious to what was happening.

“Marcus, this is what’s going to happen. You are going to forget you ever met her. From here on out, Georgina Ferguson doesn’t exist. If I hear you ever try to speak to her again, I will personally come find you and you will regret it.” Niall growled. “Got it, mate?”

“You know that I trained her up for you. Should be thanking me.” Marcus sighed looking at his fingers dramatically. “I mean it’s honestly nice to see that she still listens to her superiors.”

That was the last straw. Before anyone could stop it, Niall’s fist collided with Marcus jaw sending the foul-mouthed bastard crashing to the floor. Marcus’ hands clutched his face. A look of horror filled his eyes as he looked at the irate Irishman. He couldn’t believe he’d been hit.

Niall, on the other hand, was livid. No one spoke about his girlfriend that way. The pain in Niall’s hand was masked by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He didn’t know what was going to happen next but he was ready.

A pair of bearded men moved towards Jamie but Keith shoved them out of the way. An absolute beefcake named Tobias grabbed Niall’s shoulder ready to do Marcus’ bidding. In one fell swoop, Dave stepped in knocking the balding Brit out. He shoved Niall towards a space in the crowd. He kept a hold on his best friend’s shoulder until they were outside. Once they were far enough away from the pub, Dave stopped to take a look at Niall’s hand.

“You got a mean hook, kid.” Dave mumbled pressing down on a knuckle.

Niall winced, “She’s gonna kill me.”

“She’ll understand. You was just defendin’ her honor.” He shrugged. “Bend ‘em.”

Niall moved his fingers and made a fist. “Fuck. You think it’s broken?”

“Bruised maybe but not broken.” Dave said letting go of Niall’s hand. “What’d she say to you?”

“Hmmm?” Niall mumbled not understanding what he meant.

“Before she walked away, what’d she say?” Dave asked pulling out his phone to text Jamie.

“Something bout his shit reflexes.” Niall laughed. “Told me if I got a hit to make it count.”

“Well ya definitely did that.” Dave said squeezing his shoulder. “Went down like ton of bricks.”

“Was he always that big of a prick?” Niall asked moving his fingers some more.

“When they first got together, he actually loved her and was a proper lad. Everything went a bit sour a couple years in.” Dave explained. “Turned into that piece of shit. She stayed way longer than she should have.”

Niall just nodded processing the information he had been given.

“James wants us to meet them at that sports bar down the road.” Dave said.

“Good.” He smiled faintly. “Need a fuckin’ shot of somethin’.”

When the girls got back to the house, two bottles of wine were opened and a heart to heart was had. Advice on relationships, love, and ideations of self worth were shared. The other women knew Georgina needed some time to process what had happened so they stayed away from the topic. After her second glass of wine, it was the only thing she could focus on. Their encounter with Marcus was picked apart and analyzed for what seemed like hours.

By the time they were done, it was a quarter to two. The group of women crawled into their beds hoping they wouldn’t have to deal with a hangover in the morning. Georgina lasted five minutes before she was back in the kitchen analyzing the night. She decided that she’d try to go to sleep when the boys got back. Niall was staying at his flat and he promised to text her when he arrived safely. She hadn’t heard from him yet.

Just as she went to check her phone, the front door opened. Three drunken men made their way into the kitchen. Upon seeing her, the men grew quiet. She shot a small smile in their direction letting them know she was okay. Taking it as a good sign, two of the men headed to bed. The third walked over and pulled her into a hug.

“I tried to keep him away from you. I really tried Georgie.” David whispered in her ear.

“You did your best Davey.” She whispered back.

Dave leaned back and looked her in the eyes, “Promise me this isn’t going to change anything.”

“I promise.” Georgina smiled. “I cried it out with the girls when we got home. I’m okay I think.”

“Good.” Dave said. “Britt and I are taking you to lunch tomorrow to talk about it.”

“You don’t need to do that.” She said as he pulled away.  

“I know we don’t need to but we want to.” Dave smiled.

Georgina nodded slowly, “Was he the reason why you guys were being shady earlier?”

“He found me at the bar and I just knew I had to do something. That’s what I talked to Britt about. That’s why I sent Ni over.” He explained. “I thought if I could keep you occupied and hidden all night he wouldn’t get what he wanted.”

“I appreciate that.” She said placing her hand on top of his. As soon as she made contact, he winced and pulled away.

Confused, Georgina opened her mouth to speak but Dave stopped her.

“I was just solidifying my position as Hen House favorite.” He said throwing his hands up in defense.

“What are you on about?” Georgina asked.

“I couldn’t stand there and let The Baby get his face beaten in. You lot would kill me.” He sighed.

She closed her eyes and sighed, “Shit.”

“I told him you wouldn’t get mad at him because he was defending your honor.” Dave said. “So don’t get mad. I mean the second time wasn’t even his fault. They came after us.”

“Is he okay?” She asked nervously.

“Hands a bit swollen but his face is fine.” Dave replied. “He’s back at his place so he’s good.”

“Think I should go see him?” Georgina asked looking up at her friend.

“He would appreciate it I’m sure.” Dave said. “I’ll get you a ride over there.”

“Thanks.” She said getting up to get some stuff ready.

The ride to Niall’s flat was full of anxious nerves. She couldn’t believe the night they had had. Running into Marcus wasn’t planned but she was glad that it happened. It may have brought back memories of self-hate and anger but it did so much more. It had showed her how much she had grown since they broke up. When she looked at Marcus, she didn’t miss him. There was no longer an attraction. There was just disappointment and sadness. She was disappointed in the person he had become and sad she allowed him to treat her the way he did. She deserved better. She wished her younger self could have seen that.

If seeing Marcus did anything, it made her realize something. She loved Niall. It wasn’t because he punched Marcus in the face or stood up for her without being asked. It wasn’t because he was building her greenhouse in his backyard or planning a trip back home to meet his mother. It wasn’t because he was the best sex she’s ever had and probably would ever had.

He was her safe place. He allowed her to heal and to trust and to become whole again. He was the conscience on her shoulder letting her know that everything was going to be okay. That she would be happy. That she was worth it.

He was everything she needed and more.

She was just too stubborn to see it.

When she reached his flat, she didn’t know what she was going to say. The last time she showed up unannounced all her thoughts disappeared as soon as his baby blue eyes found hers. She decided she was going to wing it.

Her knuckles rattled against his front door in a pattern that only he would recognize. The door swung open and a tired looking man with dark brown hair answered. Georgina smiled at the sight of him.

“Fergie?” He asked confused. A pair of sweats hung low on his lips as as he quickly attempted to put a shirt on. “What are you doing here?”

“I come bearing gifts.” She said raising her bag towards him. “Open bottle of Jameson and one of them coffee cakes Keith bought for brunch tomorrow.”

He opened the door wider allowing her to come in. Without saying a word, she headed towards the kitchen. He followed quietly behind her watching  empty the contents of her bag onto the counter. She then grabbed a plastic bag and walked to the freezer to fill it with ice. When she turned around, he let out a sigh. She rolled her eyes as he hid his injured hand behind his back.

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you.” Niall blushed.

“How were you going to explain the swelling if he hadn’t?” She asked.

Niall shrugged. “Golf injury?”

Georgina laughed before grabbing everything and leaving the room. The buzzed Irishman was hot on her heels. He put on a film while she got comfortable on the couch.

“Dave doesn’t think it’s broken.” Niall said walking over to her.

“I’m glad it’s not.” She said as he sat down. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“His hand looks broken because he hit more people.” Niall mumbled.

She didn’t speak. She carefully inspected his swollen hand. His pale flesh was starting to darken. He assured her that the injury looked a lot worse than it actually was.

“You know you didn’t need to do that.” Georgina whispered as she handed him the bag of ice.

“He deserved it.” He responded focusing his eyes on the television.

Buddy the Elf’s beaming face appeared on the screen. The young couple got caught up in Santa’s workshop for the next few minutes. Georgina rested her head on Niall’s shoulder as she cuddled into his side.

“You were right about his reflexes.” Niall muttered softly in her ear.

Georgina just laughed as she grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the coffee table. She twisted off the cap and took a sip. When she was done, she lifted it up to his lips so he could do the same.

“He went down in one shot. Wish I could have gotten a couple more in though.” He said as a little bit of whiskey dribbled down his lip.

“Easy there McGregor.” Georgina teased cleaning the mess with the sleeve of her jumper.

Niall rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

Georgina smiled at the tone of his voice. She leaned forward and tore off a piece of cake for them to share.

“Can you believe I stayed with him for six years?” She said embarrassed.

“You loved him. You were young. We do crazy shit for love.” He said.

“The first two years were great. I really thought we were in love.” She said feeding him some cake. “But then his dad cheated on his mum and it destroyed him. After that, he turned into this monster.”

She paused to take a bite of the cake. “He was my best friend and I thought if I tried hard enough I could get him to turn back.”

“But you couldn’t.” He said softly.

“Nope. I couldn’t.” She sighed. “Then the cheating rumors started and the lies and the name calling. And I got to a point where I started to believe it.”

“I was worthless. I was too heavy. I needed to be more like this person.” Georgina said. He slid his arm around her waist as she continued to speak. “Got a job to buy nicer clothes to look better for him. Went on diet after diet after diet to lose the weight. Did everything I could to make it stop.”

She shook her head. “You know what’s sad? I didn’t even know he was cheating at first. He was never playin footie down at the park. He wasn’t revising at Malcolm Winters’ house. He wasn’t helping his granddad paint. He was shagging any woman who was willing.”

Niall pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Baby.”

“I know. I know. I was stupid.” She blushed. “I should have seen it for what it was.”

“Georgina, you really need to stop blaming yourself for what he did. He was the piece of shit who fucked up. Not you.” He said softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I just have trouble forgiving myself for it.”

“You need to find a way to start.” Niall said stealing another morsel of cake.

“If only it was that easy.” She mumbled.

“You know everything he said about ya was absolute horseshit.” He said focusing on the tv.

Georgina turned so she was facing him. “What?”

“Marcus never saw the real you.” Niall said softly.

“What are you on about?” She asked confused.

“The real you is the girl sitting in the middle of her living room spewing threats at her scanner because it just won’t scan the proper shade of black. The real you is the girl dancing around my kitchen pretending to be Elton John while cookies are baking in oven. The real you is the woman who can deadlift 110 pounds and not break a sweat. The real you is the woman who can send me over the edge in just a pair of joggers and a coffee facial mask. The real you is the person who drove two hours out of their way on a Saturday night just to apologize. That’s the real you.” Niall said — sincerity oozing out of every word that left his lips.

Georgina entire body caught fire as butterflies formed. The love in his eyes and the passion in his voice was all she needed. A spark was ignited and she hoped it would never burn out.

“You are so much more than that binge dieting, fancy clothes wearing, submissive person he thought you were.” He said placing his hand in her lap.

“Where were you when I was fourteen?” She said shaking her head.

Niall placed a kiss on her forehead. “Feel the same way.”

A content smile forced as she took hold of his hand. She gently stroked his knuckles with her thumb trying to come up with the right words to say. She needed him to just how much she cared.

“Ni?” She called out.

His eyes focused in on her face. That same look of love glowing bright.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asked nervously.

“You were really the one who broke my good beach chair when we went to Huntington last year.” He glared playfully.

“That was fucking David and you know it.” She glared back making him laugh.

She cleared her throat dramatically. “Anyways, back to my secret…”

“Yes Your Highness continue.” He teased.

“Six months after I moved to America, I wanted to move back home. I missed my mom. I was already sick of Deborah. Britt and Dave were fighting a lot and I thought it was my fault.” She explained. “The day I was searching for a ticket home, I got a text message from this annoying blonde in this obnoxious boy band that told me he heard there was a store within driving distance that had seven different flavors of Taytos and real Cadbury eggs because he remembered that I said they were two things I missed about home.”

An instant smile formed on the young man’s face.

“Six months after that, I was really struggling with being around others. I didn’t think anyone in the group liked me. I thought they were just being nice because I was best mates with Britt. I decline almost everyone invitation to hang out — both with the group and at work. I just wanted to be alone.” Georgina continued. “There was one day in particular where I was feeling really low. I knew I needed to be around people to make myself feel better but I felt as if I had worn out my welcome. Thankfully, that same annoying blonde worked his magic and planned an entire day at the beach that ended with dinner at an authentic pasty restaurant.”

“Six months after that, he initiated my membership to the B Team’s Derby Day without any hesitation because he knew that I missed watching football with me dad and brother.” She said with a smile that turned his cheeks pink.

“For the next few years, that annoying blonde made a point to check into my life to make sure things were good. When work got stressful, he was there. When the group was too much, he was there. When I missed my family, he was there.” Georgina said. “He was there when I didn’t even know I needed him. For the past five years, he’s been that safe space — not just for me but for everyone around me.”

Niall almost couldn’t believe his ears. He was certain that Georgina was trying to kill him. Georgina didn’t give out compliments to just anyone. For the past couple minutes, that’s all that she did. He was fairly confident that his chest about to explode from the amount of joy building inside of it.

“Niall Horan, I know I haven’t always been nice to you and I tried to keep you away. Let’s be honest, that was a dumb move because I mean look at ya!” She said as her eyes lit up. “Fucking eight course meal with a hint of Irish spices.”

A small laugh escaped his lips making her smile. It wasn’t just any smile. It was different. It was pure and inhibited.

“Fuck.” She sighed happily. “I am so in love with you.”

Niall’s head turned to the side. “Come again?”

“I love you.” She smiled.

“What was that love? Couldn’t hear you.” He smirked playfully.

“I love you.” Georgina said confidently.

“Gonna need to hear it again.” He said with a look of genuine happiness on his face.

“Niall Horan, I lov—”

She couldn’t get the rest of the words out. His lips had found their way onto hers as an emotional kiss was being shared. He cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. He couldn’t believe it. Georgina Ferguson was in love with him and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath — trying to get his heartbeat under control.

She pecked his lips a few times making him smile even more.

“Georgina, I have waited a long time to tell you this.” Niall said softly.

“You were the one who ate my entire thing of holiday Oreos last Halloween.” She rattled off in mock annoyance.

Niall’s head shot up as an offended look covered his face. “That was fucking Keith!”

“I know. I just like pushing your buttons.” She replied.

“I love you, you brat.” He said narrowing his eyes at her playfully. “A whole fucking lot.”

“Oh you do, do you?” She asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I do.” He smiled. “Gotta problem with it?”

Georgina shook her head. “Not a single one.”

[pagesoflauren]

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Part 5

Part 4 Masterlist 

Don’t come after me, it’s ~4-5k words. 

A few months after their first meeting, Y/N and Jack have fallen into the routine of her coming to stay with him on the weekends. She’d sleep over and do some laundry for free, while also teaching him how to cook as best she can on his extremely outdated appliances.

Jack had made her breakfast, looking up a tutorial on his new phone and getting many compliments from Y/N about how well he cooked the eggs. After she had eaten, she sat on the couch to relax and watch some TV until she knocked out. Jack chuckled to himself as she saw watched her sleeping, the blanket covering half her lower half and her arms cushioning her head.

She sleeps for an hour until she wakes up to shouting and the sound of feet running. “OI! SOCKS YOU CAN’T TAKE THAT ONE, IT’S NOT MINE IT’S Y/N’S!” Things don’t completely register in her groggy mind. It’s not until she sees a blur of black fur run towards her that she startles awake, grogginess forgotten. Socks is running behind the couch with a bright red sock in his mouth. It’s hers. She hears Jack run in.

“Where is he?” he asks. “He ran behind the couch,” she says as she yawns, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Put your feet up,” he commands, walking over to one side.

She complies, tucking her feet under herself and sits back. She steadies herself by putting her hands on the cushions when she feels Jack move the couch away from the wall with ease. Socks runs out to another spot in the house. He bends down and grunts as he reaches for something before standing up straight. “Here,” he says, exhaling. He hands Y/N the sock his cat stole, and she giggles as she takes it. “My hero,” she jokes, standing up to kiss his cheek. “Guess that means he’s accepted you as his mum,” Jack said offhandedly. “Maybe you should move in,” he says casually. “What?” she says, standing back. When he looks at her, her face doesn’t match her tone. She had asked him incredulously, but there’s no shock on her face, just a surprised smile. “Yeah, you’re almost on summer holidays. And you wouldn’t need to live in that tiny dorm anymore, except during the week if you really want. You’d have all the space here, we can even put an office in one of the spare rooms. I’ll buy kitchenware and new appliances.” “I can’t ask you to do that though, that’s so much money.” “I’ve got the money, love. From years and years and years of saving and selling some old junk I’ve got from a hundred years ago, remember?” “But I can’t…I don’t have the money to help, if I’m gonna live here—“ “Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head, “Just move in. Be with me—“ Meow. “—and Socks.”

Y/N can’t help the tears that well up in her eyes. She laughs as she wipes away the ones that spill over. “Yeah.”

“I like yellows and oranges,” Y/N says as they stand in the paint department at the hardware store. “Can’t we go with blues? Yellow and orange just seems so…bright.” “Jack you put boards on your windows and don’t let any light in! I think it’d be good to have the bright colors. Plus we’re getting dark hardwood, it’ll be a nice contrast.”

They quickly fell into a brief exchange of stubborn glances before Y/N’s eyes caught sight of a good compromise.

“Okay, golden yellows and pastel greens,” she said, picking up a swatch of the greens and yellows she was talking about, “It’s a nice balance of warm and cool. We’ll have the kitchen yellow, which will go nicely with the dark cabinets and granite countertops. Then we can have the living room be green and that’ll go well with your black couch. Then your bedroom—“ “Our bedroom,” he corrects. “—if you so please, we can paint a dark blue, like a navy,” she says, picking out another swatch, “We can paint this color on two walls so that the room isn’t completely dark and then the bed goes against one wall and our dressers go against the other. Or we can do a pale blue,” she picks up another swatch, “and then paint the whole room that color.” “Well, if I’m getting a room of my color,” he says, grabbing the dark navy, “Then you should paint your workroom too.” “I thought you’d say that,” she smirks, “I want this,” she says, holding up a terra cotta orange swatch. “You got it,” he says, taking the rest of the swatches from her and kissing her forehead.

They walked over to the mixing station, handing the swatches to the worker there and watching as the colors mix in the large cans. Jack paid before grabbing all four with ease, two in each hand, much to the surprise and late realization of what he is by the employee. He laughed as Y/N skipped to the car, taking the keys from his pocket and popping the trunk for him.

“Someone’s excited,” he says, pulling the door down to lock it. “I am!” she says, “We’re…we’re gonna paint the house. Our house.” “Yeah, we are,” he smiles widely, unable to help the warm and fuzzy feelings he gets at the reality that this is happening. She’s moving in with him, bringing warmth and color into the house just like she’s done for him since she met him.

Jack knows he could paint the kitchen and living room in a matter of minutes, but Y/N’s just so excited about painting that he slows down to match her pace. The couch and cat tower having been moved from the wall and covered with a tarp and the TV dismounted, they set to work with the pastel green Y/N picked out. They begin rolling the paint onto the walls, until Y/N stops suddenly. “We need music,” she says. “I’m on it,” Jack says, putting his roller down into the pan and heading into the basement.

When he returns, Y/N almost laughs. He’s carrying a record player, probably from the 70s, and a crate filled with records in their sleeves. “Oh…wow…okay,” she laughs. “What?” he says, setting them down, “It still works, I’ve taken really good care of it. Same thing with the records. Bought them the day they came out!” “No, I don’t doubt it, I just…I guess I just didn’t think you’d—cuz when I think of playing music I think of—“ “I’ve got a boombox too?” he shrugs, “And some cassette tapes. It can play CDs too, I’ll go get it.”

He leaves before she can say anything else. She turns back to continue painting, satisfied with the color on the walls. She’s interrupted by the sound of the plastic paint tray bending under weight.

“Socks!” she cries, seeing the cat pawing at the paint and stepping into it. He looks up when she speaks, running away and leaving pastel green paw prints on the new dark hardwood floor as he does. “Naughty kitty.”

“I don’t use this one as much but I’m pretty sure it still wo—SOCKS YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Jack yells, setting the boombox down and running to another part of the house. Y/N hears clattering and thumping as she still continues to paint. She feels a breeze, which she knows indicates Jack’s quick movement throughout the house. When he returns, she looks at him looking thoughtful as he stares at the paw prints. “They’ve dried,” he states with a sigh. “You can scrape it off and use rubbing alcohol on a paper towel,” she says. “My dad painted the house when I was a little girl. That’s what he did.” “Alright, lass. You keep working, I’ll take care of this.”

She hears him cleaning the floors as if it’s happening in a time-lapse. Apparently vampire speed comes in handy when your cat runs through paint and leaves paw prints on the floor while you’re painting the house with your human girlfriend. After a minute, he’s sifting through the records, taking the lid off the record player and putting the record under the needle. The sound of the Beatles’ A Hard Day’s Night album filled the room. He goes back to his position next to her, picking up his roller and filling the white wall with green. “Did you see them? In concert?” she asks. “Yeah, Edinburgh ’64.” “What was it like?” “I remember a lot of girls fainting, falling on me and Thomas and all.” “Speaking of Thomas, what’s his last name?” “Morrison. We met when we were sat next to each other in school.” “What school did you go to?” “A small school called Channelkirk. We were one of the first students to go there.” “Why? When did it open?” “1855.” “Oh I see.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, painting and playfully bumping hips. Eventually they get to the edges of the walls and window frames, which require painting with smaller brushes. But what starts with Jack accidentally flicking paint on Y/N after a particularly hard stroke against the wall leads to her retaliating by speckling his skin with paint as well, which in turns causes a full paint war to ensue. Soon enough they’re laughing, green handprints and spots all over them as Jack grabs her waist and pulls her towards him, pressing kisses onto her face and playfully biting at her neck. “Let go!” she squeals, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “Not till you apologize, my love.” “You flicked paint on me first!” “Was an accident, didn’t even give me a chance to apologize before you flicked some on me.” “Okay, okay I’m sorry!” she laughs, pushing him away.

There’s paint in his beard and in her hair. She gets a streak of it on her forehead when she sweeps another piece out of her hair. She begins putting the paints and rollers away and Jack follows. There’s a small section left to do, but they decide to leave it for tomorrow to do along with the kitchen. “Come take a shower with me,” she says, reaching her hand out for him to take, “We can use the new towels we bought.” “Alright, lass,” he smiles, placing his hand in hers.

As they walk to the bathroom, Y/N hears Socks meowing in one of the empty rooms of the house. “You locked him in there?” “He’s got his food and litter box in there! I even brought his cat tower up!” She rolls her eyes. “There was no other way! He would’ve gotten into the paint!” “Oh goodness,” she says, opening the door to check on him. He’s sitting at the door and stands at the sight of Y/N. He curls between her legs, purring as he goes. “Don’t worry baby,” she coos to him, leaning down to scratch behind his ears, “You won’t have to be locked in a room when we begin painting the individual rooms.” Socks wanders off to another part of the house and Y/N turns back to Jack, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to the bedroom. They walk into the ensuite and Y/N’s the first to begin undressing. Jack follows, shedding his shirt and shucking his pants off. All their clothing’s in the laundry basket when Y/N steps into the shower, twisting the hot water knob to turn the shower head on.

The water’s cold at first before it fades into a nice warm temperature. She then turns the cold water knob to keep the water from getting too hot and steps under the stream of water. Jack steps in, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss her shoulder. He feels her reach her arm out to grab his bottle of shampoo and she turns to squirt some into her palm. “Come on,” she says, motioning for him to bend down a bit. She lathers the shampoo into his hair and he hums contentedly at the scratches she leaves against his scalp as she massages the suds into his hair. “You’re like Socks,” she giggles, “you like scratches on your head.” “Hush, I’m nothing like that little shit,” he chides, grabbing her shampoo and doing the same to her hair. He smiles when she leans into his chest as he washes her hair, brushing his fingers through any tangles that formed when her hair was up in a loose bun as they painted. They rinse the shampoo out and he watches as she puts conditioner in her hair. “What’s that for?” “It’s so that my hair’s soft.” “What? So this whole time your hair isn’t naturally soft like that? I’ve been duped!” “You have been,” she says sarcastically, “Did you not feel how rough my hair was when you shampooed it?” “No, I just thought your hair was always soft like that.” “Nope. It’s all the oils and…other stuff that’s in here,” she says, giving her hair a quick rinse again. She then grabs the loofa and bar of soap, lathering it up before grabbing Jack’s arm. “You have so much paint on you,” she laughs. “Whose fault is that I wonder,” he smirks. “You started it,” she says, scrubbing down his chest and reaching around to get his back. “I think not, lass, remember? You didn’t even give me a chance to apologize—“ “You could’ve apologized instead of getting me back!” she says, reaching up to soap his neck, where some green hand prints were. She rubs away the patch of green on his beard, before handing him the loofa so that he could wash his legs. Once he’s done, he starts with her arms and goes down her torso, scrubbing away a large handprint he left when he grabbed her waist under the t-shirt she wore. He kisses her forehead when he reaches around to do her back and she giggles when he dots a cluster of bubbles on her nose. She takes the loofa from him so that she can wash her own legs before stepping under the shower stream again to rinse herself off. When he’s done rinsing the suds off, he stops her when she reaches for the shower knobs. “Just hold on a bit,” he says, bringing her close to him, “wanna cuddle ya.” “Here?” she giggles, “It’d be a lot more comfortable on the bed or on the couch, I think.” “No,” he shakes his head, “like having you this close.”

They stand there between each other’s arms, Jack’s cheek resting on the top of her head as the water continues flowing. They’re so close though that one a small amount can fit between them and Y/N realizes that she likes being this close to him too.

Jack wraps her in a big fluffy towel before securing one around his waist. She squeezes out some excess water in her hair over the sink and shakes the long strands. When she grabs her hairbrush, he reaches out for it, “Let me,” he says. She smiles and hands it to him, watching him brush her hair in the mirror. When he’s done, he sets the brush down on the counter and kisses her cheek and she giggles. They get dressed in a fresh set of clothes, Y/N stealing one of Jack’s sweaters, before going into the kitchen to make dinner. Jack waits as she cooks, trying to figure out her laptop. She’d asked him to pull up a movie on Netflix, but he barely knows how to use the computer. The last time he’d used one it was a box desktop and he had to dial for the internet. He hears Y/N close a pot to let the soup she’s making simmer and she sits next to him.

“How do I click?” he asks. “Here,” she says, nudging his hand with hers to bring her finger onto the trackpad. She hovers the mouse over Google chrome and taps the bottom left corner, watching the icon bounce. “You don’t use Internet Explorer?” “God no,” she says, “That’s so slow. Get with the times, old man,” she jokes, pinching his cheek. “Hey, Internet Explorer was all the rage when I was 149.” “Wow, you’re so hip and with it,” she laughs, logging into Netflix and pulling up the Titanic. As it loads, she goes back to check on her soup and pour some for herself into a bowl. She comes back, sets her bowl on the table and presses play.

“I’m about 99.9% sure this story is based on Thomas’s girlfriend.” “Why?” “She was on the Titanic and survived by floating on a plank like Rose.” “Did she also fall in love with a Jack?” “No, but the doctor treating her was a vampire and bit her to save her from dying of hypothermia.” “What’s her name?” “Poppy Hollingberry—“ “Hollingberry!?” Y/N exclaims, quickly pausing the movie and looking at Jack. “Yeah. She’s actually from around your town, maybe a half an hour out?” “I had a neighbor named Mrs. Hollingberry! Do you think they knew each other?” “Maybe? She lived with a woman named Abigail for a bit before Thomas met her.” “Wait how did she and Thomas even meet?” “Thomas and I were passing through after selling an old antique lamp we’d had for decades that we weren’t using anymore. There was a collector out that way that put up flyers and stuff advertising that they’d buy shite like that so we figured we’d just try to do it. We were on our way back when he saw her and he thought she was human so he was telling her that she should go home because it was late and I guess they just liked each other or something. She lived with us for a few years before they both left.” “Where did they go?” “They left in 1993 and lived in Liechtenstein for a bit then moved to Belgium in 1995. They moved again in 1997. After that I lost contact. He forgot to give me their number I guess.” “Oh.”

They once again fall into silence, Y/N reaching over to hit the space bar to play the movie again.

A few days later, after they finish the kitchen and living room, their new kitchen appliances are scheduled to come.

“Of all days they choose today?!” Y/N says, fuming as Jack chuckles. “Love, you have the rest of your life to use those appliances, why are you making such a big fuss?” “Because I wanna use them right away!” she says indignantly. “Well after you get home from your day out you can use them all you want.” “Maybe I can cancel—“ “No, no, love, you need a day out. You need some sun. Or else you’ll be as pale as I am.” “Fine,” she says, conceding. “There’s a good girl,” he says, handing her a pair of sandals, “wear these, they’re in season.” “Look at you, getting with the times, starting to see the trends.” “Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn’t help my human girlfriend dress fashionably?” “A terrible one,” she smiles, fastening the buckle of her sandals and standing up to press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll see you later, I love you.” “I love you, too.”

“Sorry, miss. Unfortunately our records don’t go that far back,” the secretary says over the phone, “The earliest we have is from 1935.” “Okay,” Y/N sighs, “Thank you so much for all your help though. I really appreciate it.” “You’re welcome, and have a good day.”

The line goes dead and Y/N sits back against the metal chair on the patio outside of the restaurant she and her friends are at. “What was that about?” her friend Maeve asks, “last I checked your family’s been in the Southeast for the last four generations? What, you suddenly have a long lost relative from Scotland?”

Y/N had called Channelkirk in hopes of them finding Thomas’s records, which could hopefully give her a lead to tracking him down.

“No, it’s not that,” she shakes her head, taking a sip of her lemonade, “it’s just, Jack had this friend that he spent his entire life with. He was the one who made him a vampire and they lived together for, like, a century and a half before he moved to be with this girl. They’re somewhere in Europe and I’m trying to find them. Maybe bring Jack there so they can reunite.” “Aww that’s so sweet!” “Do you know any other information about him?” her other friend George asks. “I just know his name is Thomas Morrison and he and Jack were born the same year, 1850 and they went to Channelkirk in 1855. And his girlfriend’s name is Poppy Hollingberry. She’s got the same last name as my neighbor.” “Have you talked to her yet?” “I don’t know how to go home without Jack wanting to come with me, or wondering why I’m going.” “You can tell him you’re just going for the day or something. A friend’s in town and has one day to spare. You’ve gotta go and be back by night or something.” “He might still want to—“ “He won’t if there’s no more room in the car,” her other friend, Lily interrupts. “What?” “We’ll go with you. Cover for you. You can do some digging and we can just go out while we wait for you. Also gives us an opportunity to meet this vampire of yours.” “You’d do that? Just muck around my super boring town just to cover for me?” “Eh, why not?” Maeve says, “I need to get out of London anyway.” “What’ve you done now?” George says accusingly. “I may or may not have slept with one of the supervisors at the job I’m applying to.” “What!?” they all cry in unison, laughing at the idea of it. “I didn’t know! I only found out it was him when I walked into the interview and saw him at the panel!” “Oh lord,” Lily says, “Right, well I think that warrants a little trip out of town. Who’s free this weekend?”

Y/N returns home to hear Jack shuffling about the kitchen. When she walks in, she sees the new black and chrome appliances they had picked out before her eyes settle on Jack standing over the stove with his brows furrowed in concentration as he looks at his phone while stirring something in a sauce pot. The stove is off, though, and Y/N takes that as a sign of him finishing up whatever he’s cooking.

Socks trots over and meows at Y/N’s feet and she reaches down with her fist extended towards him. He bumps his head against it and continues to nudge her hand as she scratches behind his ears. “For the last time Socks, this isn’t your food—oh,” Jack says, looking at his girlfriend and their cat.

She smiles at him and walks over, Socks following along at her feet. “What’re you making?” “Dinner,” he says, continuing to move the contents of the pot—pasta—around. It’s carbonara, her favorite. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she says, “but how’d you get the groceries?” “Amazon Eats,” he answers. “Hey look at you!” she says for the second time that day, “Using the internet and Amazon, I’m proud of you!” “Yeah I’m pretty hip and with it,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Ew stop, that’s kinda creepy,” she says, pushing his cheek. “Oi! You’re gonna say that to your loving, doting boyfriend who slaved away over a pasta dish that he isn’t even gonna eat?” “Considering you don’t get tired, nor do you sweat and you definitely don’t have to worry about bleeding out from a cut on your finger, I’d say you barely slaved over this.” “S’not nice! This took an hour of my life away!” “It’s only supposed to take 30 minutes! Plus don’t you have crazy fast vampire reflexes?” “I had to make sure I was cutting the vegetables correctly! Plus I’m new to cooking!” he scowled, opening one of the cupboards to grab a plate. He grabs some pasta with the tongs he’d be using and places it into a pile on the plate before setting it on the counter to garnish with parsley. “And a garnish too, now I’m really impressed,” Y/N jokes as she grabs the plate, “Thank you for dinner.”

He smiles, all joking absent from his face, “Of course, love,” he says, leaning down to kiss her cheek. He gets to work on washing the dishes and putting the food in a Tupperware to be put in the fridge when it cools down some. When he’s done he sits next to her at the kitchen table and watches with satisfaction when she eats as if it’s the last meal she’ll ever have. “Can you cook every meal from now on?” she asks. He laughs, wiping away some sauce on the corner of her mouth, “I’m glad you like it.” “It’s really good. And you cook breakfast well too.” “Well, it’s my first time doing it,” he shrugs, “When I was growing up the boys didn’t cook, it was just the women. So I never really did much in the kitchen. Or in the house, for that matter.” “What would it have been like if…if we were together?” she asks. “We would’ve been married, probably,” he laughs, “I would’ve asked your dad for your hand one day. I’d barely get to kiss you as much as I get to now. I’d only steal a few on your lips, leave the rest on your cheeks and forehead. You would’ve worn a dress that would’ve taken ages to put on and take off. And you’d have a corset-“ “Yuck,” she says, her face twisting up at the thought. “Dates would be just walks in the town square or having tea in your living room with your parents in the next room. They’d be able to hear everything.” “Sounds not fun,” she comments. “Not as fun as it is now, being with you. I’d rather have this with you.” “Why?” she asks, setting her fork down. “Because…I dunno. When Thomas left I kinda just fell out of the world. I didn’t have any connections to anybody and it was just me and Socks. And it was boring. I just kept going because I didn’t wanna leave him on his own. Then you came in and it just…you brought me back. You’re warm, like the sun. And bright too. And I’ve never felt that way about anyone. Not any of the pretty girls in Oxton, ever. God, Y/N, if my heart still worked I swear it’d beat for you.”

She’s on the verge of tears right now; no one’s ever said anything like that to her and she thought she’d only dream of being told that. “I guess that makes sense, you’re 167, so of course your heart doesn’t work as well as it used to,” she jokes, trying to prevent herself from crying.

He laughs, feeling tears well up in his own eyes, “I love you,” he says, wiping away a tear that spilled over her lower lid. “I love you, too,” she whispers.

By Friday, Jack and Y/N have finished painting the living room, kitchen, the wall by the stairs and her new office. They’re painting the bedroom now, Jack’s old bed and mattress having been cleared away before the sun went up. They moved Jack’s dresser away from the wall and covered it with a tarp. The new mattress, bed frame and Y/N’s own matching dresser are waiting downstairs to be assembled and put together, along with an orange, yellow and red colored bed set Y/N has picked out to be season appropriate for fall. They’re standing together in paint clothes, dipping the rollers into the dark navy color Jack has picked out. They’re only painting two walls, starting with the wall the bed will be against. As they finish, Y/N takes a break for lunch and Jack decides to do what he can.

When the room is done and the paint has dried, Jack sets up the bed within a few minutes and they make it together, fluffing the pillows and smoothing the new sheets down.

“We’re done,” Jack smiles. “Yeah,” she says, nodding. Jack’s suddenly next to her, pulling her into a kiss. He falls back onto the bed, bringing her with him before rolling her onto her back and settling himself between her legs. Their kisses get heavier and Jack’s hands start wandering, sliding under her shirt. He suddenly stops when his ears pick up an extra heartbeat and he looks up to find Socks sitting on the bed, staring at them. “What is it?” she asks, following his line of gaze, “oh.” Jack gets up, Y/N props herself onto her elbows and Socks is still staring. “C’mon, mate, off you go,” he says, waving Socks away. He’s still staring. Jack huffs in annoyance, grabbing the feline who begins purring happily.

…Until Jack sets him down in the hallway and shuts the door on him.

“What is it?” she asks. “Nothing,” Jack says, brushing it off. He lays down, bringing Y/N over to straddle his waist and kisses her. He reaches under her shirt again, bringing his hands up to slide it over her head. She does the same to him, taking his shirt off and discarding it somewhere on the floor. Jack reaches for the clasp of her bra…when suddenly there’s meow. “What’s that?” she says, distracted. Jack leans up and kisses her neck, “Just ignore it, it’s fine.” Y/N grinds herself down on Jack’s groin, eliciting a groan from him…until they hear scratches on the door and yowling.

“Jack—“ “Y/N, please, he’s just being greedy, it’s fine.”

There’s a loud thump against the door, as if Socks kicked against it.

“Doesn’t sound like it, have you fed him yet?” “I did, now please—“ “But he’s crying…” she says, looking around. She finds where she threw his shirt on the floor, slipping it on and walking over to the door. When she opens it, she coos down at the feline. “Aww, baby what’s wrong?”

Socks just weaves in between her legs, meowing the entire time, then heads down the stairs. She follows, watching as he sits next to his food bowl and meows at her. She takes the bowl and fills it with the canned food in the fridge before mixing it with dry food. She puts it down where it was and pets Socks as he eats. When he’s done, Socks nudges against her, purring happily with his tail high in the air. She picks him up and carries him to the living room, sitting on the floor with him as she grabs one of his toys to play with him.

“Unbelievable,” she hears from the entrance of the living room, “Y/N we were just about to…and you just…you just leave me for my cat?” “He was hungry,” she shrugs casually. “But we were gonna…ugh!” he groans, walking over. Socks is laying happily on his back holding the toy to his belly contently as Jack glares at him, “Proper cockblocker, you are.”

Socks blinks at him as if to rebuttal.

“She’s leaving me tomorrow—“ “It’s not even gonna be a day, Jack.” “—And you can’t even let me give her a proper goodbye.” “Jack, please,” she giggles, “We’ll have time when he goes to bed. It’s still early.”   “I’ll hold you to your word,” he says, throwing another dirty glare at his cat, “I’m gonna make dinner.” “I want chicken!” Y/N calls. “Are you gonna eat with me, or Socks?”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

Y/N settles into Jack’s chest, cuddling into him, comfortable and content on the new mattress.

“I’m not even sleeping and this is so much more comfortable than my old mattress,” Jack comments, holding Y/N tighter. “Feels like home now,” she giggles. “It does,” he says, “it was just a house before. Now it’s our home.”

Y/N leans up to kiss him, but misses and kisses his chin instead. They giggle, the bedroom only illuminated by the lamp on Jack’s bedside table. The light shines on her face, casting a yellow glow on her. It’s accurate to how he sees her: his personal sun. To her, it gives him a halo of sorts. It’s accurate to how she sees him: not a creature of hell or a monster, but an ethereal being that brings a lot of happiness and calm to her life. He needed someone to keep him warm, she needed someone to help her sleep. For each other, they were exactly what they needed and more.

.

.

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Soooo this is the last installment for now! I have HUGE plans for this series and my Days with Jack, but for the next few weeks, I’ve gotta take a break from regularly writing/updating. It’s starting to be crunch time at school so I’ve gotta dedicate a lot of time to that. But I will update if/when I can and open my ask box for blurb nights every so often!

As always, feel free to let me know what you guys think. I love you guys so much!

[cagedbycravings]

Iron Necessity

Author’s Notes: I needed to re-do some of the scenes in this story. I’m also trashing Esmerie’s former personality. She deserves better. And as a result will experience more grit. 

Special Thanks: @sassysatsuma and @urgentorange for inspiring me.  Your writing has brought forth a new desire to challenge my characters in (hopefully) non cliched ways. Bones in particular helped me frame my characters Elyse and Margaux. Urgent Orange's take on Price and Soap has provided more depth into their characters than I could have ever imagined. Thank you!

Chapter I: Purpose 

"The magnitude of a progress is gauged by the greatness of the sacrifice that it requires."- Friederich Nietche

Margaux Lèvesque had never been one for blatancy. Her final words on the day she left in search of the Godfather of her children, were no exception. A peculiar decision in Esmèrie's mind, as her mother never placed much emphasis on fatherly types. While their relationship was far from platonic, Parrain nor Maman were in positions to ever consider themselves amorous. Elyse reasoned that it was because it would leave them vulnerable. The visage of her twin sister flashed in her mind as her heart flinched from the protruding pain of being separated from her twin.

 The breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean brought some comfort as the young brunette felt the evening waves rush to kiss the last of the late summer air.

A growing shadow caught in her periphery, her bright hazels flickered with alert before locking with a lithe man. His dark eyes and matching hair made him seem haunting. His rectangular glasses gleamed furthering the unsettling feeling in her stomach. Esmèrie supposed she had no one to blame but herself regarding her mistrust of him. Her decision to contact a Black Dahlia member was out of sheer desperation. Hiring the organization meant two primary stipulations would have to be met. One, she'd go where they deemed safest for however long. And two, she'd forgo any substantial privacy. The latter perturbed her more than she'd let on as she had to at least appear accustomed to their sporadic meetings. He introduced himself as Cillian Hawke. His hallowed cheekbones combined with his slanted hair over his face gave his eyes a darkness she’d seen few men parallel. 

That night they met in a hotel lobby, she knew she'd made a mistake. His voice was too smooth. A silvery twist in his Irish accent making her feel as though his words always held a secretive second meaning. Their interactions were terse though Esmèrie sensed he was becoming impatient. She knew she was biding her time with him. Keeping the loose screws of his mind between her fingers was becoming difficult. 

If he expected a demure, doe-eyed, damsel in distress, Esmèrie would give that to him. She squeezed her wrist, allowing her gaze to avert from his. He towered over her by several inches, sinewy arms never far from her own. His resistance was waning as she noted how little space was between them. No longer maintaining a professional distance once they arrived in Rio, Cillian seemed intent on keeping her in a cage. "You've been out here awhile. Why not come inside?"

“I was waiting for the water to cool so I could go for a swim." Clutching her wrist, she passed a glance over her shoulder. 

His lips twitched into a smile. "Very well, then." 

Esmèrie descended the wooden staircase leading to the private beach, shielded by a cove. Sliding down the hill, she didn't mind the sand dusting her brightly colored tunic, nor the sudden sloshing foam inside her strappy sandals.A conclave folded into the cove as she tucked herself out of sight. A small backpack and wooden oar were propped beside the stone wall. Esmèrie tossed a quick glance behind her. Keeping her secret from Cillian had become a matter of solace. Months ago, she’d discovered a route away from the beach facing villa she’d been sequestered in. It had been sheer luck to have tranquil waters that led her away from sight.  

Trudging down the steep incline, she spotted the small fisherman’s boat tied to one of the boulders. The waves splashed against the chipped wood vessel, its weight rocking while she steadied herself inside. Lifting the loop from the stone, she propelled herself forward. The commanding tide bore plenty of risks, but it was a small price to pay for a bit of isolation. A wave whisked her around a familiar cliff-side before luring her into the shallow alcove hidden inside a misty waterfall. Drifting slowly, she inhaled, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. The rushing of the waterfall engrossed her, providing solace to quell the frenzy of her mind.  Tying the boat onto the end of the withering wooden dock, she sighed allowing a bit of light to fill her hazels. She’d restored an abandoned villa using forgotten materials from a sunken cruise ship, submarine, and harvested wood from the last storm. Trudging past the rock fire-pit, she turned her head at the sound of a hum rising from the oncoming tide. Her eyes skimmed the water to see that her buoys had remained in place. Crafted with materials that the fisherman used, she added a few solar powered buoys that glowed once charged. The eco-friendly material dissolved the radiation through reverse osmosis. A breakthrough for the environment affected by nuclear leakage. Not enough to satiate her appetite, the scientist was in the beginning phases of true neutralization. Utilizing similar material in her iridescent warp shaped lanterns, Esmèrie had found a way to speed up the process of stabilizing isotopes but had yet to discover a means to properly neutralize the materials. The thought sparked a reminder of the reoccurring weakness she felt. She’d need to eat soon. Heaving a sigh, she dropped her backpack onto the floor beside the brightly colored cushions upheld by wooden pallets. She’d sewn the pillows by hand. Discarded feathers from the local herons tucked beneath a rough looking but effective seam. She gingerly reclined against the fabric with a sigh. Tilting her head from one end of the house to the other, she smiled at her handiwork. It was no Edra but it resembled a home. 

And if there was anything she’d learned from her family it was how powerful a tool replication was. The sting of chagrin reddened her cheeks, twisting her lips. Manipulation was a natural aspect to humanity. Her rational mind knew this. From infancy onward, the ability to manipulate had been pivotal in achieving success. The visage of buttery blond waves dipped in rose gold made Esmè’s stomach clench. The seething reminder of why she’d flown thousands of miles from her home suddenly burned into her back.  A creak of a drawer revealed a small square device. The lettering almost stinging her fingers when she traced the Russian Cyrillic lining the edge. Closing the drawer, Esmèrie sighed while absent mindedly rubbing the knots in her stomach. Three months since the wound of betrayal had etched its way through her. Cracking the foundation built on trust and…naivety. 

Lifting her gaze to the mirror, Esmèrie inhaled sharply. Brushing the bangs from her face, she tucked the loose curls behind her ear. The Brazilian sun had burned her hair into a cinnamon brown bob. Still sticky with sea salt, she sighed while removing her tunic. The water sprang from the shower head with a creak, steam consuming her figure. Visions of intense pale blue eyes flashed before her. Tilting her head, Esmèrie could only hope to rinse off the searing tears in her eyes.

Dread sunk her heart into her stomach that morning. Shuffling in her bunk, Elyse reached for her phone. Squinting at the intrusive light, she'd woken up exactly five minutes before her alarm. Again. 

Cursing her luck, she crawled down from her bunk to splash some water on her face. Anxiety still dilated her pupils as she breathed. With time they settled providing a moment of peace in the flickering mirror light. It'd been awhile since Elyse looked at herself. Her once wide-set eyes had narrowed from stress. The hazel brightened with effervescent green had become jaded. 

Small sacrifices, ultimately. She had been warned that enlisting would require a piece of herself. And in her years, she'd risen to the task each time. Her cheeks had thinned, providing a better bone structure. Her dimples remained, a comforting reminder of what little the Service hadn't taken from her. Her toffee brown hair had just grown long enough to hold in a ponytail as it dusted her shoulders evenly now. She didn't inherit her Mum's magnificent curls or her striking beauty, but she still held her strength and determination. 

Elyse heard her roommate shuffle in her bed, a hushed apology reaching across the room. A simple shrug was her response. Typical, as making friends since enlisting had been a joke. She shook her head before reaching her closet. Might as well get dressed and head to breakfast.

A surge of anxiety resurfaced again that morning. She'd been running and nearly keeled over, drawing the ire of her commanding officer. A man of exceptional kindness, he'd pulled her into his office to discuss the matter."You're not one for slacking, what's going on?"Her eyes dropped, giving her a moment to contemplate her answer. "Just an off day, sir."He nodded, convinced enough to not push the matter. "Fine, just get it together. A General's coming in to see the division."Elyse nodded. Her return to her training was renewed with a fervent tenacity as she doubled her speed, striking the targets with precision. Being one of a dozen women in the newly formed Paragon Division was an accomplishment all its own. The jog back to the rest of members earned her scowls.  She heard the whispers among the regiment. Arrogant, aloof, easily angered. 

She'd heard it all.A familiar whisper caught in the wind as she felt her heart race again. Her blood running cold with trepidation. She blinked away the tears pricking at her eyes, a playful nudge jolted her from her thoughts. She tensed overlooking her shoulder to see lips moving, her ears struggling to hear above the sudden sobbing filling her mind. Her attention turned to the General who’d begun to speak at a podium. 

His voice drifted from her ears, replaced by the dread echoing through her bones.  What could possibly be happening in that prison Esmè calls a home?

 A twisting in her gut began again while she listened to what Shepherd had to say. Very little of his speech stuck out, her mind drifting to her twin. She felt her body internally tighten as if her muscles were curling, her stomach folding in half, her lungs collapsing.

"Which is why we'll be connecting the Paragon division with the 141."That caught her attention, her eyes sharpening. Women had only been permitted to enlist among the Infantry for the last couple of years. She’d been promoted to Sergeant despite the controversy regarding the decision to assign a woman to the front lines. Now that the opportunity for presented itself for her to join the best handpicked fighters on the planet, she'd be one step closer to her reason for joining up with the regiment.

In the meanwhile, Esmè will just have to manage on her own. A pang of guilt struck her heart at the callousness of her words. Her eyes focused forward as Shepherd continued to speak. 

"Wait, what?" Meat sat up from his reclined position on the couch. "Why the hell is Shepherd connecting another task force with ours? Are we no longer the best handpicked warriors on the planet?"

"Because," Soap released an exasperated sigh. "He feels that it's necessary."

"With all due respect Captain, this is bullshit. What are these kids going to do when shit hits the fan? Cry out for their mommies? And about women joining, what the hell does Shepherd expect to have happen if they are captured? Raped?"

Soap inhaled sharply, irritation clear in his features. "We're all quite aware of the risks involved. The adjoining task force will be no different."

"None of these brats better slow us the fuck down." Meat hissed shooting a sharp glare at his Captain. 

Soap rolled his eyes, preparing to leave whenever he heard a cockney accent behind him. 

"When are they arriving?" Ghost propped himself against the wall, arms crossed, eyes unwavering despite the sigh escaping Soap's lips.

“Today. Expect to see quite a number of new faces around." He left before the rumblings of the others reached his ears.In truth, he had no issues with women joining the military and was quite the supporter of them enlisting among the ranks involving special forces. 

There were risks involved, of course. But MacTavish had prided himself on remaining open minded to the idea that new people would bring new solutions. One of the very few remaining traits of his that hadn't become jaded in his time in the 141. 

Unfortunately, he knew all too well that the others wouldn't share his mentality. Archer, Meat, and Scarecrow were among the highest strung in the bunch, but none would compare to the vexation held by Ghost. 

Sighing, MacTavish cracked his neck before checking his watch. They'd be arriving soon.

The vehicle came to a stop as a bag jostled her awake. "Wake up." She'd heard the driver call. "We're here."The orders were simple. Line up and wait to meet their Commanding Officers. Elyse was quick to deduce that typical regulations wouldn't apply here upon seeing Mactavish's mohawk and Riley's mask.  

 "Welcome to the 141. I'm Captain Mactavish. And this is Lieutenant Riley. Now we realize that due to the new requirements the resting quarters are going to be unusual. Women will be placed near the Medical wing until further notice. 

"The short introduction followed by the small distance between the separating groups was enough for Elyse to notice the tension radiating throughout the base. If there was one thing Elyse was certain of, it was when she wasn't welcome somewhere. Their uniforms gave them away. Dressed in black t-shirts and forest green cargo pants, they clearly weren't blending in anytime soon. Beside her was a shorter strawberry blonde with her hair tied into a messy bun. She did all she could to avoid making eye contact from the other base members. Their prima-donna reputation proceeded them. 

She could feel similar stares behind her as three other women ranging in various height and ages attempted to cover their intimidation. Reaching the make-shift barracks, they waited for Riley to finish his speech. "You may be new but that won't make you exempt to any of the expectations here." His cockney tone grated Elyse's ears as she internally counted the moments until he left. The Paragon members were split among five rooms with an additional door closed at the end of the hallway. Entering her room, Elyse heard someone sigh in relief behind her. Turning back to her bunk, she began neatly unpacking her belongings.

"Hi." The raised, almost sing-song Scottish accent caused her to tense. "I'm Clover Taylor." The strawberry blonde with round face and oval eyes beamed at Elyse. 

An awkward pause ensued as Elyse barely overlooked her shoulder. Not without her manners, she gave a forced yet polite nod. 

"Lèvesque." 

"First name or last?" Elyse shot a blank stare at the strawberry blonde only to watch her fall into a fit of nervous giggling. "Kidding, of course." 

Elyse didn't bother with eye contact as she climbed into the top bunk. Lying down she clasped her fingers behind her head, eyes shut as she waited for her roommate to take a hint. Her thoughts floated to her twin once again feeling the walls of her heart tense, offering little relief into her veins.Clover resisted the urge to slump as she unpacked her belongings. At least my previous roommates spoke to me.

Training in the first few weeks was tense as Elyse recognized how determined Lieutenant Riley was to maintain a clear divide between the two task forces. There had been an unspoken understanding in dividing the recreation room. The 141 would remain on the side closest to the kitchen. The Paragon would remain on the side closest to the exit. 

Riley stood in a darkened corner like the hawk she'd kept as a pet. Watching—waiting for a moment to strike back at her. She'd heard him skewer Taylor, the newest medic on the team after he took a nasty hit during a sparring session. 

The medic barely stood at his sternum and shook like a leaf until Elyse stepped in. She may have only been a Sergeant, but she cared very little for titles when they were being used to—in her own words—cater to the needs of a spewing asshole. Whether it be due to Riley's reputation, preserving their own careers, or enjoying a shit-show; the other members kept their distance and silence. 

Lieutenant Blaire Evans was an exception. Before Elyse defended Clover, she'd been ready to step in herself. Her dark brown undercut hair parted over her face, as she shared disdain for not just Riley but for the 141 in general. "Bunch of over-privileged wankers." She hissed before tossing back another shot of whiskey. "Where'd you get this?" 

"Taylor." Elyse muttered reaching for the bottle. "As thanks." 

"A woman of few words, eh? I can respect that." Elyse smirked as she poured her drink. Catching a glimpse of their very nervous medic making her way to the table, she and Blaire offered polite nods."Do you mind if I sit with you guys?" Clover tugged at the sleeve at her wrist. 

"So long as you don't consider us one of them, I don't see why not." Blair finished her shot. "Cheers by the way." 

Clover sat down uneasily, trying to avoid the stares in her direction. "Cheers." The redhead grimaced at the taste of the liquor, missing the chuckles from Elyse and Blaire.

"Drink often?" Blaire watched with a gleam of amusement in her grey eyes."Not really." The medic replied sheepishly as she set down her glass. Elyse smirked before enjoying another sip of her drink. Scanning the room while the other two chatted, she noted that the base itself felt much larger than it was. In truth, everything was simply spread out. "So, what made you join?" Elyse passed a glance in Blaire's direction. 

"Fulfilling a promise." She could practically hear Blaire's eyebrow raise. "You?"

"Family tradition. Everyone serves."

"Admirable." Her eyes looked past the Lieutenant as Meat and Royce approached.

"Heard you talked shit to our Lieutenant. Not sure if you noticed, but there's a chain of command here." Meat huffed, arms crossed over his chest, his face full of indignation. 

Elyse sharpened her glare. "And?"

"And you need to respect it. You may have been hot shit before, what with being an all-women's team, but here you're nothing." Elyse failed to suppress her flinch. Meat's words echoed in the well of her memories. 

She couldn't—wouldn't go back there. Physically or emotionally. "And if I don't?" Elyse felt her blood boil, rising from her chair. She hated how easily wound up she could be and yet, she'd never really tried to prevent it from happening.

Meat kept just enough of a gap to show he hadn't touched her yet. He had a good few inches over her as she barely stood at his clavicle. He squared his shoulders, leering down at her. "You warm up quickly, I like that in a woman."

Disgust filled her eyes, her fist cracking. The room grew quiet as she felt the eyes of others cast her direction. Silent enough to hear a pin drop, time slowed as Elyse felt the urge to rip that smirk from his face.

The sound of connecting flesh brought Mactavish into the room. Seeing Meat's body flip head first onto the ground sent him into a near frenzy. He was just inches from grabbing Elyse by her collar whenever she felt a strong hand on his fist.

"They're settling things." Her tone was unnervingly tranquil, her grey eyes expression unfazed by his rising anger.

"Not on my watch." He spat before attempting to side step her. She blocked him, moving her free hand to his chest.

"Sergeant Lèvesque, stand down."

As if someone had flicked a switch, Elyse released her vice grip from Meat's arm letting it fall onto the floor with a crumble. Meat's darkened eyes heated with humiliation as he felt Royce lift him, quietly ushering him out of the room's only exit. Mactavish never broke his stare, a rare fire in his cobalt blue eyes. How he'd wish they would burn into Blaire's icy greys, evoking some sort—any sort of reaction. 

Blaire waited for Meat and Royce's footsteps to quiet before giving an almost pleased glance at the younger soldier. "Head back to quarters, Lèvesque. You've done enough tonight." 

Elyse's impassive stare seeped into the atmosphere lowering the temperature of the room. A natural habit she'd inherited from her mother. She ignored the stares ranging from bewilderment to vexation while she exited. 

Scolding herself internally, rounding her fists. Was this why I enlisted? To pick fights with pig-headed pricks? No. Her resolve needed tending. Proving her decision to join the service wouldn’t happen if she couldn’t control her temper. 

Closing the door behind her, she looked over the small room she’d been assigned to. A bunk bed, a table set for two, and a small space for a desk. Climbing into her bed, Elyse sighed. The knots in her stomach had traveled to her head resulting in a headache. Willing herself to sleep, Elyse clutched the empathy symbol hanging around her neck. 

Clover had scuttled into the room at some point, glasses balanced on top of each other in one hand half full of whiskey in the other. Seeing Elyse's still form, she quietly tucked away her celebratory trinkets before cautiously stripping out of her uniform. Elyse's back faced her giving some semblance of privacy as the skittish 24-year-old slid into some brightly colored printed pajama pants. Slipping into a fitted tank top, she let down her hair before reclining against her pillows. Switching on the small book light next to her, she cracked open one of her medical text books. 

She'd been the youngest graduate in her class, an accomplishment all its own until she enlisted with the Royal Army Medical Corps. Her height, gender, and age did little to gain confidence in her patients. As a result, she took on as many responsibilities possible, refusing to relinquish herself despite the obstacles with pushy patients, cynical corpsmen, and arrogant doctors. Serving as a Nurse Practitioner would have its drawbacks, but she felt called to a position that was desperately needed but often overlooked.

The lines had begun to blur as she rubbed her eyes. Stifling a yawn, she had just closed her eyes whenever a voice caused her tense.

"You'll burn yourself out if you don't pace yourself."

Lifting her head, a mix of excitement and confusion filled her amber brown eyes."How did you know-" 

"My mum's a nurse. Her mum was a nurse. And her mum before her." 

"That's cool. So then, why not become a medic, if you don't mind my asking."

Clover chided herself for being a little too eager to have the first real conversation with her roommate since they arrived.

"Requires too much empathy."

The room plunged into an uncomfortable silence as Clover felt stifled by the numerous inquiries threatening to burst from her lungs. It was as if Elyse sensed this as she shuffled above Clover. Sitting up she attempted to crack her stiff neck. Meat had been able to land only a hand on her, but his grip on the nape of her neck caused her to be unable to properly recline her head.

"Would you have a look at something for me?" Clover could hear Elyse's voice soften as her shadow leaned over the ledge on the top bunk.

"Certainly." Elyse slid from her bunk to the ground before rounding the corner.

"Please." The medic motioned with her hand, folding up her textbook. Swiping her shoulder length hair from the back of her neck, Clover frowned at the bruise forming. "Tell me where it hurts." She gently pressed her fingers along the tender areas of Elyse's back stopping whenever she flinched."Nothing feels broken. Some swelling that may lead to some more bruising. You should ice it for the next couple days."

"Thanks." Elyse flashed a smile so faint, Clover wasn't certain she'd seen it. "No, I should be thanking you. For what you did what that Lieutenant and for tonight." Elyse shrugged. 

"We're a team. When someone comes after one of us, they'll need to be ready for all of us."

Clover nodded, a smile tugged at her lips.

"Goodnight, Taylor. Thanks again." Elyse climbed back into the top bunk carefully lying on her neck.

"Anytime. And goodnight." Flicking off her book light, Clover released a contented sigh before drifting off to sleep. 

[tokyoteddywolf]

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Thanks for 1000+ followers!!! 🙏🏻✨✨✨ Here, have some Shance!!! :D💙🖤💙🖤

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Lance had no idea how it had happened. One minute he was stepping into the adoption center for cats and the next he was on the floor of the nursery room, absolutely smothered in about a thousand wriggling, mewling, purring, fuzzy kittens of varying ages while his husband was busy parking the car.

Shiro walked in and abruptly made a high pitched squeal of endearment that you wouldn’t think such a big, buff, serious and scarred man with a prosthetic arm could make. “Oh my god, Lance! I was gone for not even ten minutes!” Shiro laughed as he pulled out his phone and rapidly took photos of his husband on the floor, flat on his back, absolutely covered in multicolored fluffballs.

Lance pouted and attempted to sit up, a tiny blue gray kitten chirping at him from her perch on his shoulder. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up, I know where you sleep.” The Cuban male grumbled, though he rubbed a few kitten’s ears affectionately, eyes soft with motherly love towards the adorable squeakers.

Shiro moved forward and settled down on the floor, a few more kittens mewing and clambering into his lap. The big man cooed and picked up several at a time, nuzzling into the silky fur adoringly. Lance smiled gently at the sight. His husband had always been a sucker for cats, and after their last cat, Voltron, died a few months ago from cancer, he’d been inconsolable. So Lance had decided to get Shiro a new cat, and if he sort of missed the sound of tiny padding feet and quiet meows around the house, nobody had to know.

The blue eyed kitten on Lance’s shoulder chirped again, and he scratched her neck affectionately. “Who’s a pretty girl?” He crooned as a tiny gray head butted into his cheek. A louder mew across from him had him looking down to see another, fluffier, solid black kitten perching on his knee, rearing up to bat at the blue kitten’s tail. “It seems that Blue really likes you, sir.” The assistant nearby spoke up, smiling from her chair in the corner.

“Blue?” Shiro looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Nobody here is really creative with names, so most of us just call ‘em like we see ‘em. The one on your lap is Black, she and Blue are sisters. Never seen a closer knit pair of siblings than those two. Though Black’s more Maine Coon mix and Blue’s more Russian Blue mix. Black took after their Mum, Blue after the Dad. Genetics are strange.” The brunette woman explained, pushing up her glasses and tucking a strand of red dyed hair away from the playful tuxedo kitten trying to nab it.

“She’s beautiful.” Lance muttered, now cradling the purring gray puffball in his arms and absently stroking just under Blue’s chin while Black mewled for attention too, prompting Shiro to scoop her up from Lance’s lap and lavish her in little rubs and tickles, which the kitten thoroughly enjoyed. “Lance, we absolutely have to take these two home!” Shiro declared, eyes sparkling with determination as Black attacked his face in cute kitty kisses.

“I can get their adoption forms for you whenever, just say the word.” The assistant lady smiled, tuxedo kitten now draped around her neck. The other kittens were sprawled around, tired after playtime. “Hon’, I thought we were only supposed to get one kitten?” Lance raised an eyebrow at his husband, only to get a big eyed puppy dog pout in return, quivering lip with watery eyes and all. “But Laaaance!!! You heard the lady! Black and Blue are really close sisters! We can’t just separate them!” Shiro whined pleadingly, holding up Black for emphasis.

Lance’s eye twitched, a sign he was weakening. “We’d have to get more things, you know. It’d be kind of expensive…” he tried, but faltered when Blue mewed and nuzzled at his neck adorably. Shiro dialed up the charm. “We have plenty of money! Pleeeeeaaassee dear honey darling love of my heart?” Lance snorted, laughing. “Okay okay, we’ll adopt them both, just stop with the ridiculous pet names. You’re so cheesy! I thought I was supposed to be the awful flirter in this relationship, not you!” He joked, Shiro giving him a beaming smile in return.

The assistant chuckled. “Alright, you two wait here while I go get the adoption forms.” She said, standing up and setting the tuxedo kitten down as she breezed out of the room, leaving the two men to play with the kittens a little longer.

Soon enough they were walking out of the adoption center with a carrier holding two adorable little balls of fur. By the huge, happy grin on his spouse’s face, Lance deemed this trip an overwhelming success in his book!

“Blue! No! Bad kitty, stop moving, you’ll make it worse! Shiro stop laughing and help me with her!” Lance wailed, attempting to pin down his rambunctious now-one-year-old cat with a cup of water stuck around her head.

His husband was currently laughing his ass off on the floor, red faced and wheezing while Blue stumbled and dashed around the living room, trying to whack the plastic cup off of her face. She’d just wanted a drink! Lance finally tackled the young Russian Blue mix to the ground, wresting the cup off with a ’pop!’ and a splatter of water all over the floor, which Blue promptly began to roll around in delightedly. She was one of those weird water cats, as Lance had discovered the day after they’d brought the kittens home and gave them a bath.

Black watched from her perch up high on the bookcase, purring lightly and twitching her tail in amusement. The huge Main Coon mix was a giant puddle of calm black fluff nowadays, always choosing some sort of high surface to settle on to keep watch over her territory. Like a lioness on Pride Rock, Lance had joked once.

Lance sighed in exasperation and scooped up his troublesome kitty. “Alright Beautiful, lets go get you dried off.” He muttered, Blue chirping in response and licking at his face with a rough tongue. He laughed lightly and disappeared into the kitchen for a towel.

Black mrrowed and jumped down from her high place, padding over to Shiro to check and see if her human was still alive. She patted his red face with a cool paw, batting at the white forelock until he recovered enough to sweep her up and nuzzle at her fur, and she responded with a purr and more soft kitty kisses to his face, as was their tradition nowadays. “Thanks for checking on me, Black. I’m good now.” Shiro chuckled, smiling as Lance came back into the living room with a towel wrapped bundle of damp fur.

“You were no freaking help at all you jerk!” Lance declared dramatically, pointing at his husband. “I feel betrayed, will I ever recover from this tragedy?!? I trusted you to have my back, instead you laugh at my suffering! Oh the indignity!” He continued his overly dramatic spiel, leaning back and moving his hand to press the back of it against his forehead like a damsel in distress. Blue meeped softly from her cocoon prison.

Shiro released a short laugh, sitting up fully to give his spouse a cheeky smirk. “It looked like you had everything under control already, dear.” He said cheerfully, amused at Lance’s dramatic nature. Black rumbled happily from her spot in his lap. “Under control? Did that look even remotely like I had it under control?” Lance raised an eyebrow at his lover as he set Blue free and used the towel to mop up the rest of the water, though luckily the cup had only been a fourth or so full.

Shiro tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully, tickling Black’s ears. “Well, no, but it was certainly entertaining.” He burst into more laughter at his spouse’s indignant squawk and sputtered through a mouthful of wet towel as it smacked him in the face, sliding off to land on Black with a wet slopping noise, causing Black to yowl a complaint and wriggle out from under the heavy weight soaking her fur.

“You sir, are a brat. No wonder you’re like, mentally seven.” Lance stuck his tongue out at said brat, who was trying to coax Black back into his lap. “Yes, but you love me!” Shiro sang as he managed to get his giant, fluffy monster of a cat back into his arms.

Lance sighed and gave his husband a fond smile. “Yeah… I really do.”

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