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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

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perennial;tom holland|fifteen.

chapter fifteen: weeds.

↳ flower meanings:

Daisy: new beginnings Thistles: protection buttercups : childish white clover: happiness

chapter summary: the stories of the wallflowers and who we are supposed to blame

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, UNRELIABLE authors

word count: 9K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

I know it took me forever to write this, it was so difficult to write this chapter. I KNOW IT’S UNUSUAL, but please read between the lines because I am trying to tell the story through everyone’s eyes. And EVERYTHING has a reason I swear. ESPECIAL THANKS TO @laurieteddy ( @erodasghosts ) for helping me out wit this, go thank her, there woudln’t be any chapter,

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd

People often tend to ignore the wild daisies, thistles or buttercups that dare to pop in the road, people often think of them as rather a plague, or rather too common to be interested in them. Most people try not to look at them. But when they are combined and together they can create the most beautiful bouquet.

Some people, like Harry, however like to stop and stare and collect them, wonder how they grow in the most unsuitable places. Harry was someone who could spread love so easily, when he was a wallflower himself. Not easily noticed. A crestfallen Harry had been trying to figure out what to do, for a while now. He hadn’t been able to grow his love around anyone lately, because he’d lost his favorite flower. How would he grow daisies when the daisy did not want to grow anymore.

Emma was one of those daisies that people often ignored. So spectacular she managed to bloom even when all the odds were against her, in the most odd places. Like daisies in the path as they managed to outgrow the asphalt, or daisies in window corners, or in random fields where people like to do picnics.

Often people ignored her for she was outshined by other magnificent flowers. Even the night before, she’d been outshined by another flower who had just joined the game.

Emma had been outshined by a particular flower for a while now, she did not resent her in any way. Though she could not hide her appetence, for it had come and gone so many times by now. Why would anyone stare at a daisy like her? She would wonder.

Emma often thought of y/n to be a sunflower, unique, beautiful and vedirit, the flower that has sun in its own name because even the sun is outshined sometimes. A flower that searches for the sun, for the spotlight. Emma, a daisy was often outshined by a magnificent sunflower. Because people often think daisies can keep blooming even when they are stepped on.

Timmy took Emma for granted. Harry had been so delicate, until he decided that he needed to know why sunflowers grew so tall.

According to gardeners daisies are hardy, drought-tolerant plants that provide years of gorgeous, classic charm. Sure. Emma was all of that, she was tolerant but she also wanted to be loved. Very loved and she deserved it. She was such a magnificent human being who dared to pop out in the darkest situations.

However, Emma understood why y/n got the attention. Sunflowers were also drought-tolerant but they don’t bloom that easily. It depends on the soil, how you water them… and all the care plants need. But once they bloom, such a whimsical and lyrical flower.

Emma knew why Tim and y/n had not worked out. And Emma knew why Tom and her would work.

Timmy liked peonies. Y/N was not a peony.

Tom liked yellow flowers. Sunflowers, more often than not, are yellow.

Emma did not understand, if Harry loved daisies…. Why didn't they work out?

Did Harry truly love daisies or had he settled for the tiny version of a sunflower, the one with less impact. The one that could bloom easily. The one he didn’t have to water that often. The one flower that didn’t need the spotlight.

Emma would replay that night over, and over. The night that champagne had been spilled because someone had dropped the glass, the night that every heart had been broken. And she wondered how not even Harry had been able to turn the disaster into a beautiful evening, because everything had been dropped. The night everyone had burned, the beautiful garden had turned into chaos, a war. A war she did not wish to be a part of.

Emma wished to be a sunflower. And it was ironic given how many times y/n had told Emma she wanted to be like her, y/n did not see how thrilling and exciting her life was. How Emma though, knew it complicated, longed for the drama and the story and… everything.

Sure, her and Harry had had a lovely story, but y/n and Tom? Even y/n and Timmy. Her stories were worth telling. That’s why she was bloody telling it. Full of plot twists and drama and fire. A story that kept everyone on the edge.

And it wasn’t jealousy, it’s just— Emma was frustrated. She was just not burning in her story. She was boring and though she tried to shine and shine, she just—was taken for granted, because daisies aren’t unique. They’re delicate, though. Easy to bloom and easy to break.

She did not want to be taken for granted. No, she wouldn’t. But maybe Harry still liked the sunflower. Or he had once, so how could he like daisies over sunflowers?

Harry, was one big mystery to Emma, how he grew into her like poison ivy. Without poison, and flowers and just tangled into her. Emma thought Harry’s love was like a good plague, one that kept flowering through her. And growing into one couldn’t get out.

Emma missed him, Emma missed kissing Harry. And though Emma often was against kisses, because she believed kisses were only but a hoax to get tricked into phony romance. Emma always said to beware good kissers, because you might end up thinking you’re in love.

Emma knew that's probably what had happened to y/n, Tim had been just too good of a kisser for her, that she ended up believing she was in love with him. Lips hold poison that becomes addictive. Sometimes that addiction becomes toxic, which is what Emma believed happened to Tim. He had miscomprehended his own situation, he was not in love anymore, he was an addict to y/n.

Or… rather, he didn’t want to accept that he hadn’t been enough sunlight for the sunflower. Sunflowers turn to the sun. Maybe Tom was the closest thing to the sun for her, maybe that’s why y/n shined the most when she was with him, her smile was the brightest, and she was the warmest. Emma knew how y/n’s smile would linger every time Tom made her smile, she’d noticed it, even on set when she was trying to hide it. She wasn’t subtle, y/n’s glance would look for Tom, and when he was around, she’d try to hold her breath. She… shined. Because sunflowers turn to the sun.

Daisies, however,search for unusual places. And Emma had searched for the most unusual place to bloom now.

Emma had slept with Josh for a simple reason, he wasn’t a good kisser and kissing gets more intimate than sex. For Emma, a kiss could tell if you could fall in love. Kissing was but the bond of two people’s secret merging into one.

Emma was tired, she wanted the talking to stop with Harry and just… kiss him. That’s all she wanted, but her pride was too loud. She wanted to be like the sunflower, who could easily forgive. But Emma was terrified, because she’d never been able to love like this before, and the light was still flickering.

Emma had talked to Cherry, or rather… Listened to her, and she wondered however could she blame her. Cherry, Cherry was another victim outshined by the sunflower. Cherry was just another casualty drawn by the war, and her heartbreak, could be just as powerful. But of course, no one cared about her. She was the villain. Emma had listened to Cherry. Cherry was not in love with Tom, Emma could tell. She’d been fooled by a kiss, but no, she was not in love. Cherry had only been blinded by Tom.

Had Emma been a villain at some sort of point? Pushing Tim and Y/N together, even if Emma knew that Tim and y/n would eventually break?

Emma had been blinded because she knew she couldn’t lose Harry. And god, it hurt. So much, and she was confused and she needed to scream to finally be noticed. There is the inexplicable pain that comes when you don’t acknowledge it, and avoiding it won’t erase the problem, it makes it grow more and more.

Emma did not understand why she had tried to avoid it, getting drunk, dressing up, taking long walks and singing, but she was not okay. And maybe it was finally sinking. Emma was a flower that was drying out, that was reminded of the greatest love one could have ever dreamed of. Maybe Emma had learned too much of the sunflower, but now she felt it, how Emma was now made of Harry, too.

Emma hadn’t smiled since she’d left him, and she wished she had tried to mend things before, but Emma felt like it would take her nowhere because maybe her love had not been enough for Harry, and to feel worthless takes one strength, and Emma was getting tired of pretending she was strong.

Probably not even Tim had noticed it, how she had stopped dressing a certain way or why she couldn’t watch certain films, she had had a haircut, and how she still couldn’t explain it to herself. Why had the fairytale faded? Days turned into night, and there she had been again, kissing another stranger.

Emma had her head underwater and until now she noticed she couldn’t breath. The daisy was not there anymore.

Emma never cried, but she did this one time, with a cigarette burning out in between her fingers, with the tulips in her nightstand dried out, listening to Tim complaining about Tom, whatever he tried to say Emma had not listened.

Someone had shown up later that night, the door had rang, probably y/n willing to talk about her latest decision, Emma felt some sort of fear. Had y/n spent the entire day with Harry?

Tim had looked up, too. Y/N could’ve forgotten her key, was she there? Emma was not sure why that had made her feel unsteady, after all this time, did she believe y/n would go for Harry?

Timmy went to open the door and he seemed… calm. Not sure what Emma had expected, probably a crying y/n that only longed for a bottle of cheap wine for herself as they sat on the floor, near the couch, and then they would end up listening to old 80’s songs, or re-watching some poorly made netflix show that probably didn’t deserve the attention, but was good enough to have as a background.

That was what Emma had expected. To be yet again pushed aside.

“I’ll… want me to get the door?” Tim asked.

Emma shook her head, knowing that y/n would not want to see Tim. Emma stood up. And it hadn’t been what she had expected. Yet, she was filled with doubts. Had y/n… given up on Tom and decided to go with Harry?

What happened? Had she not talked to Tom? Had she spent the day with Harry? They must have.

How—how did the sunflower manage that?

How could it only take them a day and be fine with it?

There was a slight hint of jealousy over Emma, which was completely understandable. The girl had gone through so many times of being outshined by her, even y/n’s sadness had to outshine Emma’s.

But it wasn’t y/n at the door.

Because probably no one had cared enough to care about the wallflowers, but they had to solve it.

And it had taken another fire to get that other wallflower to Emma’s door.

The night before, the one thundering storm that had crashed in the other household. But it had ceased.

Before Emma had opened the door, the other weed like flowers had had a conversation, hours before. The other casualties had been having a conversation while Tom and y/n were enjoying a sunset, everyone else was dreading the darkness the night would bring.

Before they could even think of the solution Tom and y/n had made, it seemed like the conversation of their unpredictable mess was making them flow. Merely minutes before Tom and y/n had come back home.

James, another wallflower himself, had spent the day of the storm with Clark and Sam, and though they seemed calm, and they had had what could be called a good day, he couldn’t stop his nerves. James was often too protective of his sister and he would not stop by now. Though, he had also been very protective of Tom.

They went home, after Harry had warned them the other pair had left to solve their problem elsewhere. Though it was selfish, the four of them wished they could solve it for the sake of the group.

James was worried about his sister, and he now had to worry for the impression Clark had of him and the drama. James didn’t want Clark to be involved in that drama.

Clark, however, had been possibly the only one that understood the situation. Outsiders often see the wider picture and notice things we don’t. To Clark it was clear that the people around Tom and y/n had been their doom. Clark was not a wallflower. But he didn’t know that and he did not care.

Clark was someone, very much like Harry, and Clark was someone who actually liked thistles. Thistles are often disregarded because of their prickles, and not very pretty among many flowers.

Clark often knew that everyone thought James was a prick. He was, for the matter, but it was often because James liked to protect himself and those around him, building fences to keep them safe.

“I think, James, you do not give enough credit to them,” Clark said. “They managed to go from mortal enemies to a very adorable couple. What I’ve seen so far is two people who love each other so much that they grew past their hatred which, I may have been a witness to when we first started dating, those two could not be in a room without throwing knives at each other and now the way they look at each other reminds me so much of us, even I was slightly jealous of their glances. So secretive and loving.”

Maybe they all tried to ignore that, how they’d turned arguments into flirting, and translated smirks into smiles.

James sighed, “they haven’t changed. Plus, they—slept with other people, and our cousin?”

Sam was quietly sitting across them, scrolling through his phone.

Harry snorted a chuckle, “Do you think they will get out of this one?”

“Yes,” Sam was the one to speak now.

James rolled his eyes, “and then they’ll keep being idiots.”

“Love changes us, idiot,” Clark said. “Look at you, before I met you, you’d be hooking up with a different person every bloody night,” he chuckled.

James rolled his eyes, “are you slut shaming me?”

Sam chuckled at the statement. “You /were/ a slut.”

James rolled his eyes, “shut up.”

“No, but I mean, when we first—started dating I was also scared of not being—You know, I’m boring—“

“You’re not boring,” James interrupted. Because he wasn’t.

“But I am not like you are—you—you and I are very different, you are a very fun person, though sometimes you bloody decide to act all grown up to y/n, you’re still an idiot.”

“Always acting so grown up,” Sam intruded. “As if you knew what you were doing.”

“I do know!” James complained.

Harry laughed, “you do not.”

“Especially when it comes to y/n,” Sam said. “That’s the least you know.”

Harry, also standing nearby, rolled his eyes and nodded.

“No, no, that’s not true, I think you do know,” Clark pointed out. “But you are too worried to see that this is—Look, okay not right now, but I do think your sister and—“Clark turned to Sam and Harry. “And your brother are so in love but they kept listening to all of you and ended up sabotaging themselves.”

“They’re idiots,” Harry finally commented.

“So is James and look at us,” Clark pointed out.

James chuckled, “are you done insulting your fiancé?”

“I’m not insulting you,” he kissed his cheek. “My point is, you changed and we adapted and we became this magnificent couple, but it’s not always been easy.”

James stayed quiet, he knew that. It had not been rainbows and butterflies but they’d managed to come through.

Clark watched him, James was often too insecure of everything and built walts and pricked anyone who tried to tumble them down, Clark included. And James often did the same thing with y/n, trying to hide her from the world, and always trying to be the bigger person.

“I think their problem is the exact problem of ours,” Clark continued. “While everyone here is meddling in their relationship, you sister didn’t even know we were serious.”

Clark and James had had a nice relationship but every obstacle on their way had almost been powerful enough to break them apart. However each time they had outgrown it, their relationship had come stronger. That’s probably why Clark believed in the other pair. But Clark also believed James had overprotected y/n and not let her make her own decisions, maybe y/n had tried to convince herself to love Tim because her own brother had told her to. Maybe y/n had doubted Tom because her own brother told her to.

“I…” James sighed. “I know this kind of stuff happens to y/n, and Tom and y/n specifically, look I didn’t bring you that one time at the engagement party and look what happened, I am--That’s the thing, Tom and y/n always… Even when they weren’t dating we were always on the edge of what they will do next, look at us now I don’t know what they will come up with tonight.”

Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes, he did not want to keep being part of that conversation. He left.

Clark did understand why James had been so keen on having their relationship so private. James was scared of the other obstacles that he could not control. James did not trust his sister that much, not with relationships.

Even when Y/N was dating Tim, James had told Clark how he thought the guy was perfect for her but that he didn’t trust y/n. Maybe James did know why y/n couldn’t love Tim back as much as Tim loved her.

“What I’ve seen is them so in love, and I can tell she truly loves him and is not forcing herself to love him,” Clark said.

James frowned. “What?”

Clark took a deep breath, “I feel like y/n—I, look, I’m not—“Clark gulped.

Sam frowned “what?”

“I—Okay, I met y/n when she was in another relationship,” Clark reminded them. “With Tim.”

“She loved Tim,” James said. “Tim—“

“No, I know, I know, but I see y/n just—she is so free when she is with Tom, and I met Tom before I met any of you.”

James probably understood this. James had criticized y/n when she was dating Tim. But James loved Tim because he had loved y/n, so unconditionally, and Clark had pointed it out to James, how Tim would go to the end of the world for her.

Which is what James would do for Clark. And what Clark would do for James. But Clark had always known that y/n wouldn’t for Tim. Because it seemed that every time she dressed up for Tim, she wished she was dressing up for someone else.

“So?” Sam questioned.

But Clark knew that Tom and y/n would go to the end of the world for each other, and they had proved it several times now. And Clark knew that this was the first time y/n did not do what her brother told her to do, this was her fighting for her own heart and this was her not wanting to be under protection of her brother.

“I think Tom and y/n will work it out, I don’t think it’s easy, but—I think that both of them, if they’ve outgrown everything else, they will outgrow this and you should be supportive whatever their decision is,” Clark stated.

“And if they break up?” Sam questioned, “what will happen to us?”

What would happen to them. Clark knew that probably was what James feared the most. James and Tom had always been friends, there had always been a type of bond between them. It was even weird to him seeing him and his sister so foolishly in love. James knew he would have to say goodbye to Tom, even if he was going to ask him to be the best man. James would have to let Tom go.

And James wondered how y/n would be. Y/N had spent her whole life in love with Tom, her whole life had been wrapped around that fact. James knew. So what would happen if it ever happened?

James and Tom had always been friends.

Sam and y/n had been friends for as long as they could recall, always making fun of each other, building the funniest of anecdotes. Sure everyone knew Harry and y/n had always been best friends. But barely people acknowledged how close Sam and y/n were.

Sam was always left on the outside, probably because he always liked to avoid trouble. Sam, more often than not, was considered to be the most childish in the group. Sam was not childish, he just simply did not understand. Sam was not ignored. Buttercups are loved, though sometimes their love is spread too much and people don’t know what they have to do with it. The problem is when it becomes too much and often, people don’t know what to do with it.

Sam had distanced because he was one of the few people who did not stand y/n and Tom, long before they were dating. He did not stand their bickering, he hated taking sides. Of course everything had made sense when they had confessed they were madly in love but Sam didn’t quite figure it out. How could anyone hate and then love?

For Sam, it had not made any sense, partly. He had known y/n was in love with Tom, her glance was so obvious and then when he had looked back at it, it made perfect sense.

Though she had despised Tom, every now and then Sam would notice y/n hide a smile.

Sam had always tried to figure everything out, and his own imagination often led to conclusions that would drive him insane. Like a child, he always asked the questions.

How? How could she be in love with her very own enemy?

Sam had been the one to drive her home after that heartbreak, after the nightclub. Sam had been the one to listen to her and—Sam had been the one to know she wouldn’t get out of that heartbreak that easily.

Sam had also been the first to know Y/N would date Tim, and he had been the first person—after Harrison to hear Tom say he was in love with her.

Clark’s remark had made Sam think about Tim and y/n, to compare it to Tom and y/n.

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

However, Sam had been the only one to ask Tom after the engagement party, probably. “It’s so scary to think I’ve loved her my whole life and it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.”

Sam remembered when he found out about it, and how angry he was at his brother but how happy he had been after he heard they were having fun in New York. Even when they had told their parents, it seemed that Sam’s fear and anger had gone away, and then… The engagement party.

Sam thought of how scary it was to lose someone you have loved your whole life , but he understood why they were persistent, because if they were so in love and had been for a while, growing past each , how come this had turned into this mess?

Sometimes love isn’t what we think of it.

Sam had been the only one to tell y/n that Timmy and her were not made for each other. She hadn’t questioned him, probably because she knew it. But Sam had been the only one to tell her. Probably because he knew his own brother, Harry at the time of course, he knew nothing about Tom, was deeply in love with her. Maybe that’s what drove Sam to say it but… honestly, Sam did not trust Timothee to be around y/n. He agreed with Tom most of the times when he criticized Timothee.

But he had stayed quiet long enough.

Sam had been the one who had noticed that Tim had known about Harry’s feelings, Harry had never been subtle but… he knew Timothee had noticed.

There were a lot of things Sam had noticed, like how Tim had set up Harry with Emma. Which, of course, ended up being the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Harry, but Sam knew Tim had done it but to get rid of Harry.

Tom had once pointed it out to Sam.

“That guy, Tim, the one y/n is hooking up with,” he had said with poison. “He seems that he quickly got rid of Harry eh? He set Harry up with this other girl just so he can have y/n to himself.”

No, but—Harry and Emma had met at the club. But—maybe Tim had set them up?

And it had seemed like that. Sam wondered what Tim had done to get rid of Tom, because he had probably noticed about it. Timothée was very, very observant. Quiet.

Timothee had probably noticed about Tom’s infatuation long before anyone else had.

Sam knew Timothée was a very, very smart individual. He was very quiet and Sam did not quite like that. Everything he said was like a perfectly crafted plan. He was incredibly smart, and Sam didn’t trust that. But of course, he had been the one to stay quiet for a long time. However, he saw that y/n was happy. And Sam really liked that, because he’d seen her right after that club night, and Sam had been the only one she would reach out to. Occasionally.

Sam had been the first one to know that y/n had declined Tim’s proposal. Sam had been the one y/n had called because she knew Harry was with Emma. Sam didn’t know the real reason why she had declined the proposal. He only remembered how she had arrived at him and was barely breathing. After coming back from that trip to France, to meet his grandparents. Barely anyone knew she had come earlier from that trip, she had cut it short. Coming back to London alone, she’d taken the Eurostar, and it seemed she’d cried all her way back home.

She’d asked Sam to go and pick her up to get her home. She was speaking quickly and nonsense as if she had been barely breathing for the trip. “I-I said no, I should’ve said yes, I love him but I don’t… don’t even know why I said no, I can’t believe I said no I am so stupid.”

She was crying, saying nothing made sense and how her heart had broken because she couldn’t come up with a real reason to say no. Sam had asked if she was ready, if she loved him. Because y/n had not told him what had happened.

“Did you break up?” Sam asked.

“No.”

“What happened?” He questioned.

She had taken a deep breath. “I don’t love him enough.”

She hadn’t seen it coming, but Harry had told Sam. Harry knew Tim would propose. Emma had told Harry. Everyone thought she would say yes, honestly. You never really truly know how a relationship is behind closed doors, but… Sam had been grateful she’d said no. The skeletons in his closet had not come out yet.

Y/N had always thought that Sam didn’t know, but he was very aware.

“I met his grandma, and—She said I would be perfect, I think they—-“she had said. “And—he gave it on a film canister… and I love him, but I’m not—not completely in love. There—there is a part of me that still is not over Tom and I am not sure if I will ever be completely healed from the pain he’s caused me, and that impedes me from loving Tim.”

Sam knew there wasn’t really anything to be worried about, but Sam had known it for a long time. How Tim was probably a master of manipulation. But he knew it, too. Tom had broken y/n to the next level.

“Will you ever be over Tom?” Sam asked.

She had not answered. She wouldn’t be.

Timothée was not a bad person. But Tim often did things to get things done his way, even when he didn’t see it.

“You know I won’t,” she said eventually.

What part had Tim played in this mess? Though there wasn’t much of a part to be played, because y/n and Tom seemed to love creating the chaos themselves, Sam could only wonder what exactly had Tim done to try and take Tom out of the picture.

Though we could argue that it was ‘after Rome’, Sam had noticed that y/n did hate Tom more after Tim’s arrival. But it’s a very fine line because there is a lot Sam didn’t know as to what had happened in Rome and it was after the nightclub.

Sam didn’t understand why they said ‘Rome’, as if Rome had been the place that had been cursed when in fact it had been the very NightClub when things had shattered. For a heart to shatter, it needs to be made of glass. Hearts can only be made of glass when they’re so thoroughly in love. A heart that’s not in love is not easy to break. It’s funny, the stronger the love, the weaker the heart, in some sort of way.

No, Sam had to rephrase that. When a love is so strong, the heartbreak will be more painful. So, Sam could only guess how in love y/n had been to have a heart so shattered. And how was she doing now? And after the script? But last night… She’d made the same face she’d made that night at that club.

There is something about seeing your best friend heartbroken, it fuels your inner rage. Then again, he’d seen his brother heartbroken too.

That’s why Sam usually stepped out, he was not sure how he was supposed to proceed.

But Sam had missed y/n and he didn’t want to miss her again. And then, the night before. He had seen her face, and then she had run away, with Harry this time. Sam had thought she would ask him to drive her away again, like all those times before. Instead, he had stayed with his brother.

He’d heard Tom cry the night before.

But y/n? How had she spent her night? Maybe this time her heart made of glass had been covered on something else or it… was simply too broken now that the shattered pieces couldn’t be turned but into dust for now.

Sam didn’t blame Tom or y/n. But he had to blame someone.

There was something about Tim, or maybe blaming it on Tim was easier for Sam so he didn’t have to take any sides. He could also blame Cherry, but the poor girl had done nothing wrong but to be a fool, and there is a fine line there.

Sam decided to keep blaming Tim. What did Tim have to do with y/n’s heartbreak?

Hadn’t he told her, after their breakup? To sort her feelings out. What did Tim do? Because Tim was very smart.

Tim definitely knew about Tom and y/n. He had probably been the only damn person to have known it since the beginning.

What had Tim said to poison y/n even more against Tom? He had been the one to teach her that one word, perfidy.

Sam had read the script. And something didn’t sit right with Teddy’s character, how he seemed so perfect and yet he had seen y/n run from another country. How Teddy pointed it out, about William and Valerie.

It meant he had pointed out between Tom and y/n.

What had he told y/n about Tom? Yes, Tom and y/n were enemies, and they’d always been, always fighting, but in the end they were friends. In their own way. Maybe only because of the family, but…

Something just didn’t click with Sam.

Probably Tim had poisoned y/n with horrible thoughts about Tom, because y/n had said Tom was a monster, she’d written about it. How could someone ever love someone like him?

Tim was not a bad person. Sam had to tell himself that. Because he wasn’t, really. At the end of the day he was a good friend but… The guy just was… sketchy. To Sam, because it was just as if he had manipulated y/n into loving him.

Or, no, no that’s not how love works. No, y/n had loved him but maybe y/n had known it all the time.

But it just… He always wanted the best for y/n. Right?

Had… What had Tim done to bring y/n to LA, too?

Of course it was stupid to think, but… Sam didn’t want to jump into conclusions but he knew Tim was no saint. He knew that Tim knew y/n. That’s something Sam pointed out every time, Sam knew y/n. He remembered how Tim had brought another girl to his and Harry’s birthday party, knowing damn well y/n’s biggest fear was to be replaced. So if he knew it so, so well, why had he done it? To hurt her?

But also, Tim was the one to… Sam had to erase those thoughts. No, Tim wasn’t a bad person because he’d also been the one to show y/n she could smile again, and she could laugh and love.

And Sam knew how the breakup had gone, New Year’s Eve, when y/n had drunkenly confessed to Tim:

“There’s still a part of me that will always wonder if Tom’s the love of my life.”

To hear that from the person you love the most, must change you. And Tim had asked her to sort her feelings out.

Sam could not blame Tim.

But then again… He had kissed y/n right when he knew Tom and y/n were starting something. And who had come to comfort y/n after the engagement party? Tim.

It seemed like it was so perfectly calculated. So, very well planned. Or maybe not, maybe Tim had noticed how Tom and y/n were so fragile, that would break easily. That’s the thing about Tom and y/n, they were both so scared of the outcome, of any pebble that could be thrown their way and would deter their relationship, that’s why they lived so fast because they both feared the end, they both feared they wouldn’t be strong enough for the bullets shot their way.

Maybe Tim knew that, and maybe Tim knew which pebbles to throw.

Cherry had once told Sam that Tim had been the one to convince y/n to change places with her. And Cherry had said she had been delighted with Tim. Which only brought him to the night before.

Tim had asked Cherry to stay the night at his place. Sam had heard him ask her. No, Tim had not asked in any wrong way, but in a friendly way because the girl had been destroyed.

However, Sam thought there was something fishy in all of the situation. Sam had a slight suspicion that this mess had to do with Tim. Cherry had asked him the night before how long Tim and y/n-Tim, not Tom, how long Timothee and y/n had been dating. Sam had said they weren’t. And they wouldn’t be. Had Tim said something to lead to this mess? Was he the reason why at midnight Tom’s and y/n’s fantasy shattered? Why had Tim asked Cherry to go to his place? Maybe he had to do something with it.

Or maybe Tim only loved y/n. And he had been so blinded by his own love that he hadn’t stopped to realize some things he’d done were wrong. But you can never really know what’s going on behind closed doors.

Harry had his door closed, and Sam wanted to ask his brother what exactly he was going through. Though, he knew he was not having a good time. That was no secret.

Sam knocked on the door.

Harry opened the door to watch his brother, Harry hadn’t slept and he was not breathing. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but Sam could tell he was angry. Very, very angry.

“Why did he fucking do it at the engagement party?” Harry asked Sam.

There it was, a conversation they had had millions of times, yet never truly acknowledging it had been the night everyone had burned.

Because Harry often avoided the question. Sam was also slightly angry at how they had had to forgive Tom because Tom was in love and because Tom’s heart had been shattered. But Tom’s drunken speech had led to all this mess and the pain still lingered for the family.

Maybe that’s why no one in the family was really telling anything to Tom, maybe that’s why they weren’t eager with Tom and y/n being together. But they would all stay quiet. Maybe the real reason why James had been reluctant to them was because they feared their battles would leave even more casualties.

No one really had stopped to think how their relationship had changed everyone’s situation, how y/n’s parents had barely talked to the Hollands. How James wouldn’t go out for drinks with the twins and that’s why they didn’t know how serious he was with Clark. How James had to keep his boyfriend out of the drama because he didn’t want his own relationship to get ruined. How Harry and Sam had lost their best friend. How Emma had to run to another country to get over her heartbreak. How Harry had lost the love of his life.

Everyone seemed too focused on how Tom and y/n were trying to get out of this one that everybody had simply forgotten everything they’d left behind. All the casualties.

Every single wallflower, all the weed flowers that had kept growing and had not had the chance to grow.

“I… why do they always have to do everything big? Like first, the engagement party, why did Tom choose to explode there? Why did y/n write a script like that? It’s obvious they both wanted to fail, it’s so-so obvious, and then? What did he do? He slept with her cousin, out of everyone, her cousin… And she slept with Tim!”

Y/n had slept with Tim. Yet another pebble thrown at trying to get Tom and y/n back into the woods. Sam could only try and wonder why y/n had let herself be fooled again, maybe it was a rebound but then again… Maybe Tim wasn’t really the problem, but maybe y/n still felt guilty for that proposal.

Sam remembered it.

“I will never forgive myself because I will never love him the way he loves me.”

Guilt, guilt often grows like poison ivy and covers you and tangles you until you cannot be able to step out of it. Maybe that was the reason why y/n couldn’t stay away from Tim, because Tim had been the one to make her feel loved, and yet she’d never loved him back the same way.

“… Oh my god, y/n knew she could’ve slept with anybody and Tom would’ve not cared but with it’s like she did it on purpose because they have to make everything big,” Harry continued. “And I’m… so tired of it….Like last night, why did that have to happen? They could’ve talked about it but neither did it because they had to wait until the bomb exploded and bring everyone down with them…. I couldn’t even think of my heartbreak because Y/N had it worse, no, I’m not blaming her but-” Harry sighed. “Yes, whatever they love each other but… But what about my own relationship? What about James’ relationship? Didn’t he fear this drama would push Clark away?”

Sam only listened.

“Why did--Why did we have to direct her script so he could make a big entrance and win her back? I knew this would jeopardize my relationship with Emma.”

Because this was always what happened with them. Even when they were enemies. Sam hated it. Always a big, big fight, argument, how they’d have to take sides and take turns to not have them at the same place, and when they were, they would always, always make it big.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted.

Harry sighed. “And they don’t-even care, they just--Like I had to see Emma today and pick up y/n’s clothes and..that would ruin me and yet I did it, because both Tom and y/n are so fucking selfish and I don’t care-I genuinely couldn’t care less about their drama anymore, I come back and they had fucked, like-” Harry took a deep breath. “Oh my god, how do they fuck it up so badly? They’re only sabotaging themselves... And I don’t know and-why do we have to keep being dragged by their bullshit? If I have to listen to Tom complain about Tim one more fucking time…”

Sam didn’t blame anyone, honestly.

“And look, I don’t even know what the fuck they’re gonna come up with now, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t… If they break up I don’t want to listen to their rambling I… I just can’t sympathise with them anymore, I… No, I don’t mean that. I just… I need my time, too, you know? I need to be angry and I need to get it out and I need to cry it out because I’m-” His voice was breaking. “I’m not okay, I lost Emma, and I know-But oh my god, we couldn’t even come home because they were here fighting or fucking or I don’t even know.”

“Everything was easier when they hated each other,” Sam said. And he meant it. But Sam did try to stop and wonder, what would happen if they were apart?

Tom had changed. Sam had noticed, how sad his brother had turned and only a few days ago how he had a smile back on.

Harry scoffed. “I said that, too.”

“What are you going to do with Emma?” Sam asked, because he didn’t want to feed into the Tom and y/n situation, it would give him a headache.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “I… don’t know. I don’t know because… I am angry because my problem with her started because of Tom and y/n and--” Harry’s glance was glazing, but he was trying to stop himself.

“And I hate it because I should’ve called her but I didn’t because I had all these doubts and I… never got my own closure and I just had to deal with it and accept it because Tom this, y/n that and… I just want to… I want to get back to Emma but I don’t know if I could because Emma is friends with Tim and guess what? That would bring trouble and-”

Sam crossed his arms, listening.

“Or-or what if my friendship with y/n still bothers her? Even if she’s friends with her, and--I don’t even know, because she came here and I don’t know if she’d ever come back to London.”

Harry was shattering.

“I don’t even-know how to talk to her, she’s a stranger and I… I never thought that would ever happen, and she is just so cold and she…I hurt her so much she decided to move to an entire different country, you realize that? Maybe because she didn’t want to see me anymore, I don’t know what she wants,” Harry continued as he plopped on his bed. “And I don’t… No, I do, I do care she slept with someone else because I know she did it just to prove me a point, I know that she hates me now.”

Sam thought about it again, he didn’t think Emma hated Harry. No, she couldn’t.

A laugh was heard, and it was undeniably Tom’s, followed by a remark by y/n. Both twins turned their head to the door. Sam decided to close the door, he needed to listen to his brother, the other wallflower.

Harry had this curse, he was ivy, and he was white cloves. He knew Emma had loved it before but she probably cursed him for it now. Harry often made everything happy, and sometimes happiness is the toughest emotion to bear, Harry would spread his happiness everywhere he could go, but lately he couldn’t, there was barely any anticipation and his heart had felt numb and empty. As if the time when Emma had left, his heart had an indentation waiting to be filled by her.

“I love her, and I was supposed to love her for a lifetime and—“Harry said. “And… Maybe I wish I could…” He squinted. “Did you hear him? That was Tom, he was laughing, right?”

Sam bit his inner cheeks. “Yeah.”

“How long do you think that will last?” Harry sighed. “Even if it doesn’t. How-how does he do that?”

Sam only frowned.

“Do you think if I show up to Emma and just smile at her everything will be fixed?” Harry questioned and then laughed at the statement.

Harry was tired of not knowing what to do. And he was tired that he wanted to fix everything, but he felt that if he even tried to, everything would fall down. Inconspicuously, Harry had tried to go along his whole life without messing things up and that led him to where he was standing right now.

Harry sighed, “do you think they are going to sit us down and walk us through their decision?” Harry inquired.

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think you should focus back on Emma.”

“Right,” Harry sighed. “I just—It wasn’t only the—you know, I’ve been thinking, and my downfall with Emma wasn’t only from the engagement party. It had been something very crafted,” Harry explained, as he paced around the room. “I—I need a beer,” Harry said, as he finally opened the door to head to the kitchen, Sam followed after.

They saw James and Clark, confused, still at the living room, they had probably seen y/n and Tom walking in.

“Any heads up?” Harry asked them.

James looked up and made out a noise that could be translated into an ‘I don’t know.’

Harry rolled his eyes. He was tired. He didn’t want to deal with them.

“Where are they?” Sam asked.

“They—walked in—“Clark started.

“Ignored us,” James added.

Clark chuckled, “they went to the kitchen, and then went outside, they didn’t ignore us, they were just—“

“Too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” James chanted with sarcasm.

“They were talking,” Clark cleared up. “I think we shouldn’t—“

“No, I wasn’t planning to, I don’t care about them right now,” Harry said heading to the kitchen, he could get a glance of them by the window, they seemed calm, which honestly were good news. At least they didn’t have to hear them screaming.

Harry opened the fridge to get a beer, and then leaned against the counter. Sam double glanced at the couple outside and then grabbed a beer for himself.

“They… They were fighting before,” said Harry. “And apparently they slept together, again,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand how they do it,” Harry groaned as he stared at the cold beer in his hand.

Sam crossed his arms, “Stop avoiding it and explain why your downfall with Emma was even before the engagement party.”

Harry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was around the time, when I decided… Tim and I had both talked about it, alright? When he asked me about… Proposing to y/n,” Harry explained. “It was… “ Harry took a deep breath. “I think he was… the one to give me the idea,” Harry said.

The night Harry had decided he would marry Emma, he was so scared. Because he had been so sure for his entire life that he had been in love with y/n, when in reality it came no close to what he felt for Emma. He had been quiet about it.

Harry had once read we all fall in love with three people, the first time you ever love, you are young, it’s the first time you ever experience it, how silly it is to think of it. It feels so pure, and real and it’s incomprehensible, and looking back at it, you must think it wasn’t love. But it is, in its purest form because it’s so undeniably real and childish even. It’s the first time you encounter happiness. The time you learn to love.

Harry hadn’t been in love for all the time. He’d fallen out of love with her and fell back in love. The second time one falls in love is the one that breaks your heart. But they’re the person everyone expects you to love, the one flower that is pretty. The one that teaches lessons, the one that shows what pain is. You learn from it, what makes you grow, what doesn’t. Y/N had been the second one, too. The second love makes us learn what we love about love, good things, and what we don’t. This love is so powerful because it builds us, and we will often try and look back at it, because you might think it’s the one. And we can be blinded by their cold stare and try to fight for it, and though it brings a warm sunset, it’s not… It eventually dawns. The one when we learn about ourselves. The one that teaches us to love ourselves. The one before the one.

Then there’s the third one, the one you don’t expect, it hits without warning and one day you just… simply know it, and Harry had known it, so stupidly. It comes. The one that you don’t search for, the one that is just… right there for you, the one that you never thought you’d fall for. The one that tumbles down all of our walls because you can build a path together. It’s not who you usually like, it’s not like one of those crushes that you’ve had growing up, it brings the best of you. Because you find yourself in a field of all their flowers that have grown into your heart, and it’s beautiful, a dreamland. And you learn to love what you used to hate about love. It’s not the big flower, it’s the one flower you find along the way… the daisy.

That was Emma, all the flaws he loved, evergreen happiness even when everything might fall down. Covered with her, with those eyes that Harry wanted to see forever. So unexpected and now, he wanted her to be every book he read.

But he’d lost her.

“And I bought the ring,” Harry said. “But… Then I asked y/n what she thought,” Harry said. “Y/N was the one before the one,” he explained. “But we sometimes get confused, and… She told me not to marry Emma, and I doubted it. Because no one thought I should and I… I am here now hating myself because I tend to listen to everyone when all that mattered was I loved Emma, I still love her, and-”

Harry thought then, how ironic it was. Maybe that’s why Tom and y/n were out there talking, because it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It was them who mattered and how they wished to go through it.

“I think I started doubting myself,” Harry said. “And then… it happened and…I lost her, I didn’t know because I was the fool who thought that y/n was the one… When, she never was, and I want to just… Jump to Emma and kiss her, just like they do it, so simply,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d sacrifice everything for Emma.”

Sam blew his cheeks. “Why don’t you, then?”

Harry glanced up, “What? Pull a Tom and just show up and kiss her?”

Sma shrugged. “Yeah. Why don’t you? I mean, it’s worth the shot.”

And it was, maybe it had been the fact that he’d seen Tom and y/n working it out despite everything. Despite being so different, despite having every wall, they were out there tumbling it down. And maybe that’s what led him to be standing behind that door, staring at the daisy he never thought he would ever love but couldn’t think he could live without. For once, Harry had no doubts, for once Harry did not want to be a wallflower everyone took for granted to spread happiness.

“I…” Harry was shaking. But it had to be done and it had to be said. “I… I love you.”

And that was the one outcome Emma had not expected from that whole day. But she gave in anyway, finally giving in to kiss him. And for the first time, she became the sunflower.

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

hoax ; august walker x fem!reader 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 3,360 words

warnings — swear words, angst? betrayal,

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so here’s my august walker series! this took me too long to complete lmao,, lmk what you think and asks are open!! Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

August ran his sweaty palms over his thighs. “You can do this. You can do this,” He repeated to himself as he was sitting on the driver’s seat of the car, the agent thought it was absurd how he was worrying so much about a date.

He’s been on missions and life-threatening situations but here is getting all nervous about going out with Y/N. Perhaps it was because she was such a fine woman? That she was unlike anyone he’s ever met? This would mark the fifth time they’d be going out together; he unexpectedly enjoyed every single one and he was left excited for the next time they’d spend time together.

Exiting the vehicle he walked the short distance to her front door and rang the doorbell. Running his hands through his hair — to make sure that not a single strand was out of place — he could feel himself loosening up when he heard her footsteps getting louder. And as the door opened he grinned at her once he took in her dress, “You look stunning.”

Closing and locking the door, Y/N stood beside him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, “You clean up well, Henry.” He offered his arm for her to hold on to and she latched onto it, “Where are you taking me tonight?”

Opening the car door for her, he made sure she was comfortable before shutting the door and jogging over to the driver’s seat. As he started the engine of the car, he turned to her, “Thought we could go for dinner then perhaps a walk in the park.” Y/N was sitting sideways on the car so she was fully facing the man beside her, “This is different from our previous dates; any special reason for that?”

The man chuckled as one of his hands left the steering wheel and placed it on her thigh, stroking it lovingly, “I just thought it’s been a while since we enjoyed a meal.” The rest of the car ride to the restaurant was filled with conversation about how their week was and anything they could talk about.

“Such a gentleman,” Y/N teased Henry as he helped her slide in her seat. Once he sat down from the seat across from her he smirked as he lifted her hand to his lips, pecking it softly, “Well only for you, love.”

They were both sipping wine as they waited for their orders, “I’m loving the aura of this place so far; how have you heard about this place, Hen?” With slightly damp hands, he laid the napkin across his lap as he noticed their waiter brought their food, “Well I searched for romantic restaurants and this place was on top of the list.”

Pointedly looking at him, Y/N tasted her food before snickering at him, “Are you sure this isn’t where you take your date of the week?” The CIA Agent rolled his eyes playfully as he cut his steak, “Believe it or not there really isn’t that many women I’ve been with.” Part of him wasn’t really lying — in his bustling life as an active field agent he didn’t have time to take a woman out on dates, so he settled for one-night stands. But as he spent more time with the lovely woman across, he started to rethink about how he previously lived his life and somehow yearned to spend more time with her.

Both her hands carried the weight of her face as her chin rested against it, “That’s cheesy, but I have to admit it does sound sweet.” He looked at her to see how her features displayed adoration and despite his training he could not prevent himself from reflecting the same expression. “Then I bet you’re gonna have to get used to it, now won’t you, love?”

The dimly-lit surroundings made her skin glow — but August somehow sensed that it was more than the lights; it had something to do more with how she glowed because she was spending time with him. As they both were sharing desert, which really meant that August scooted his seat beside Y/N and fed her, the man could feel her shifting around.

“What are you moving around for, love?” Her nervous chuckle had him putting down the fork and turning to face her completely. Her small hand held his to ease her nervousness and the agent felt the butterflies in his stomach, which was something that never happened to him prior to their first meeting. “There’s just something I wanted to ask you, Hen.”

And that simple statement of hers had August’s heart pounding; he thought of the worst possible scenario that Y/N was made aware of his real intentions with her. “It’s just we’ve been seeing each other for a while now right?” The agent could feel himself relax partially with how she began her explanation, but now he could not focus on his earlier dilemma as his interest was piqued. “And this is our fifth date already; so it got me thinking about how maybe we can move on from here?”

It was unusual for August to feel disappointment and Y/N cringed at her own words when she saw how dejected the man beside her was at her poor choice of words. “No, shit. I’m sorry that’s not what I meant,” She began and now held both her hands, caressing his knuckles, “What I mean to say is,” August held his breath as the woman across him took a deep breath, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Her hopeful smile was faltering each second August took too long to respond — she didn’t know about the internal struggle the man beside her had. “I mean, you don’t really need to say yes. But I don’t know, I just wanted to make us official.” His heart broke with how she loosened her grip on his hands. August couldn’t help himself to deny how much he loved being with her and that she was sunshine on his drought-filled life. He thought it was unfair for him to indulge himself and connect with her on a personal level; but the carnal instinct to be selfish overpowered any other feeling and logic, “I’d love to be your boyfriend, love.”

Y/N gasped into his lips as he pressed against hers firmly and passionately. Her hands cradled his cheeks while his hands found themself resting on her waist. Her smile reached her eyes once they pulled apart from each other, “I was so nervous you were gonna say no.”

Brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, August mused, “How can I say no to being yours, love?” His line had her pursing her lips, trying to hold back from physically cooing with how smooth he was. “I hope you don’t mind being mine for quite a long time then?”

Her retort had August smirking, “Good one, love,” He placed a kiss on her forehead before taking a bite of their desert and grabbing another slice for her. She gracefully accepted and smiled at him sweetly. “Wanna get out of here and walk for a bit?”

“Let me at least pay the bill, love,” He booped her nose and she jokingly chased his finger, as she tempted him, “Why don’t we make a run for it?” Chuckling as he shook his head and asked the bill from the waiter, “Nice try, my little troublemaker.” And Y/N could feel herself swell with how he said she was his.

August leant her his coat when she noticed the night’s breeze made goosebumps rise on her skin, “Are you sure you didn’t plan to just steal my coat from me?” She giggled at his accusation, “Nope, but I do like the way you’re holding me.” He had an arm draped over her frame to ensure that she wasn’t getting any more cold. They both were walking around the near-empty park which allowed them to continue their conversation.

“How about I take you out again next week?” He asked when she shared what her schedule for the following week would be. Pursing her lips she teased him, “You taking me out almost every week is really what made me fall for you, you know?”

Chuckling a bit, he asked her again, “But seriously, can I?” She looked up at the starry sky pretending to think about it — which wore her boyfriend’s patience as he tickled her sides, eliciting giggles from her. “Stop it,” She managed to let out in between giggles and caught his hands with hers, “Okay we can go out next week!”

Genuinely delighted with that he pressed a quick kiss on her lips but before asking her when she was available she warned him, “I can’t go on Friday night though.” Deciding to sit down for a while, August ushered them to sit down at a nearby bench before inquiring, “Why? What do you have going on then?”

“My dad’s coming back from an out of town trip for work and said that he wanted to have dinner with me,” She explained as she rested her head against his shoulder. Here’s my opportunity, August thought to himself. Clearing his throat caused the girl to remove her head from where it comfortably rested on his shoulder and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, “What's wrong, Hen?” He was quick to massage the space between her brows to relax her and reassure her, “Nothing’s wrong, love. I was just wondering if maybe I can tag along when you dine with your father?”

Y/N couldn’t believe it; in her previous relationships and dates, they were always dreading to meet her family. It even came to a point where they'd do anything to avoid doing so. But this god of a man was more than willing to do so? And he wasn’t even cowering away at the thought of it?

“Are you sure? Are you sick?” She pressed the back of her palm against his neck and forehead, checking if his temperature was unusually high. Removing her hand from being pressed against his skin, he took her hand and placed a loving kiss on the back of her palms before clarifying, “I’m not, love. I just wanna thank the man who created such a fine woman.”

Smiling at him fondly, “Do you realize that with a quick tongue like yours can get you out of trouble?” Oh I do hope it can get me of trouble, August hoped. Wrapping an arm on her frame, he guided both of them to lean against the park bench as he responded, “Maybe it will, but this silver tongue will try its best to charm the father of my beautiful girlfriend.”

Pressing a kiss on his cheek before complying, “Well I can arrange that meeting then; I’d love to see the best you can come up with to charm him.” August was relieved with that; as much as he was relieved though he couldn’t help but have a moral conflict within him. His intentions on meeting with her father weren’t as pure as she thought, but it was something that he had to do.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Henry,” Y/N fondly confessed once they were parked out of her home. His calloused hand caressed her cheek, “So did I, love. So will we have dinner on your home next Friday?” Nuzzling her cheek against his hand for she loved the warmth his palm provided, “Yeah we’ll just eat here then.”

August then moved to exit the car so he could open up the car door for Y/N. He held out one of his hands to guide her, which she accepted. With their intertwined hands swinging as they walked to her front door, “Goodnight, boyfriend. Can’t wait to see you again.” Her use of the nickname had him widening his eyes and stammered with his words, “Goodnight, girlfriend.”

His hands placed themselves on her neck, pulling her close and locking their lips together for a passionate and amorous kiss. Opening her mouth, she welcomed his tongue and didn’t even bother to battle with him for dominance as she caved in easily, her arms circling against his broad shoulders. Planting a few small kisses before they broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes, “Now I really can’t wait to see you again.”

I’ll be meeting with Nick Roberts in a few. Dinner is scheduled at 6pm, have the team be here by 6:20.

August sent the text to Sloane, not bothering to wait for her reply as he tucked his phone into his jean pocket. Ringing the doorbell, he was not physically displaying any signs of nervousness. It wasn’t Y/N that opened the door for him, but her father. “Are you Henry?” He asked with a stern expression after taking a good look at the man. “Yes sir, that’s me.”

Breaking into a smile the man opened his arms and pulled the man outside, “Nice to meet you, son! It was about time my daughter found someone.” Taken aback, it took time for August to snap back and hug back Y/N’s father. “Dad! Stop embarrassing me!”

Her shout made the break out their hug, “My name’s Y/F/N, by the way.” The two men then walked inside the house. “Nice to meet you, sir. And I think it’s about time I found your daughter as well.” Y/N skipped her way to her boyfriend and hugged her tightly; this was the first time they’d seen each other after their previous date and she really missed him.

“Jesus, get a room you two. And son, call me Y/F/N,” He joked as he grabbed a bottle of beer; offering a bottle to his daughter’s boyfriend, to which he turned down. “Okay Y/F/N, can you both excuse me while I go to the bathroom?” Y/N nodded as she too untangled from their hug, “You know where it is, Hen; I’m gonna go check the food.”

As August locked the door of the bathroom he fished his phone out and opened the text from Sloane that read:

Team’s in position, at your signal we’ll come in.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, he spoke to where the small microphone was, “Signal is we had such a great dinner last week. Do you copy?” He heard the voice through the earpiece he had, “Affirmative, we copy.” The Hammer nodded even though he couldn’t be seen; he took a few deep breaths before heading out of the bathroom.

Once he returned to the dining room, Y/F/N turned to him as he was speaking on the phone, “Has Perez found out about this yet?” August was reluctant when pointed towards the living room — indicating that he was willing to go there should he be interrupting something important — but what he overheard just confirmed his connections to an illegal drug and firearm trade. Shaking his free hand, Y/F/N told him there was no need to do so.

Sitting down on one of the dining chairs, he pretended to not tune in to his phone conversation but he really listened intently. “Well we need to get through this without his knowledge; I can’t afford to mess this up.” Though the topic or context of their exchange was unclear, it provided just the right lead for his mission.

“Here’s dinner!” Y/N happily cheered as she carried the casserole, placing it on the middle of the table. Y/F/N was quick to wrap up his phone call and it had August’s clench his jaw. “Sit beside me, Hen,” She patted the seat beside her and faked a stiff smile as he scooted over to her. “So how’d you two meet?”

Y/N giggled as she placed a serving on her boyfriend’s plate and hers before pushing the casserole to her father, “We met because he was my driving instructor.” Her father recalled that, “Oh yes, he was the one the school sent?” August nodded, involving himself in the conversation so as to not cause suspicion, “I was, and after her lessons were through I asked her out on date.”

Y/F/N smiled when he saw how giddy his daughter was, “And I can see how happy you’ve made her.” She agreed, “We’ve been going out for almost a month now, right Hen?” Internally, August let out a deep breath before he nodded before he dreadfully let out, “We had such a great dinner last week; didn’t we, love?”

Feet rushing in through the front and back doors were heard, “What the hell?” Y/N panicked as the dining room was suddenly invaded by men and women who had guns strapped to their belts and bullet proof vests. She was held back by two agents as was her father; but no one held back who she knew was Henry. “Y/F/N you are under arrest,” The agent read him his Miranda rights Y/N had tears running down her eyes as her father was calm and not resisting.

“Great job, Agent Walker,” Y/N whipped her head to the direction of the voice and saw that a woman was praising her boyfriend. “Agent Walker?” She whispered in disbelief as the man approached her and she took a step back once he stood in front of her. “Y/N, love I’m sorry,” He tried to touch her but she squirmed against the two agents’ hold.

“Let her go,” Walker, as she now knew, ordered the two and they did so. Her hand moved quicker than her brain and she slapped his cheek, “Who are you?” She yelled and looked over to where her father was being taken away, “Dad! Dad, wait!” August wrapped his arms around her middle, preventing her from following him to wherever he was being led to.

“You can’t go with him, Y/N,” He told her as she squirmed against his hold. “Let me go! Where are you taking him?” She questioned as she pulled against his hold; she would have loved having him close to her but now she just felt betrayed and couldn’t stand him. “I’ll answer your questions if you promise to settle down.”

She stopped struggling against him and he let go of her, turning her around to face him. “He’s gonna be detained. The least you can do is find him a lawyer to defend him.” Though it clarified a bit of her confusion, but she still had to ask, “So everything was a lie? You didn’t really like me and you only jumped at the chance to meet my father to arrest him?”

August had his mouth opened, but struggled to come up with a coherent answer; which just broke Y/N’s heart even more. “Just leave,” She sounded crushed with her shoulders slumped and face damp with her tears, “Just get out of here, Henry, or Walker. However the hell you are.” The selfish part of August wanted to stay here with her to guide her through the whole ordeal or even just hug here goodbye; but he knew better that doing none of them would be for the best.

Nodding his head at her, he ordered for the other agents to promptly leave the premises. They all followed him and headed out the door. Once alone in her house, Y/N shook her head and removed Henry, or Walker, from her mind and instead made herself productive. She cleaned up the casserole and cutlery, leaving them on the sink for her to wash later on.

Heading to her home office, she immediately searched on her laptop the best lawyers that could prove her father’s innocence. She also made an appointment to meet with her father so she could talk to him. As she was deep in her work, her phone chimed and she glared at the text message she received:

I’m really sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to lie to you. Please give me a chance to explain?

Without even thinking about it, she deleted her entire text thread with him. But she didn’t stop there as she blocked his number and deleted all pictures she had with him or of him. Right now her top priority was her father and proving he wasn’t guilty.

#quietmyfearswith #august walker x reader #august walker x fem!reader #august walker fanfiction #august walker imagines #august walker imagine #august walker fluff #august walker angst #august walker smut #august walker fanfic #august walker x you #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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ricaffeine · 5 years ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞

an: i'm sad because of hyunji drought and this is helping me cope :( but fr if tvn decides to make hotel blue moon then yeaji needs to be in it!!

also very annoying, i can't reply to comments bc this is a side blog (bruh wtf tumblr, i'm so sad should i make a new one?) reblog if you feel like it and my asks are open if you wanna chat 🖤✨

CHAPTER TWO

Weekdays at Seoul's National art gallery were usually the same. Buzzing curators dealing with hot-tempered clients. One thing or another was typically going not right and art directors cried about their wrong coffee order.

Although today was not the usual as to the crowds of bubbly news reporters and dazzled art critiques swarming up the wide place. As to Munyeong on the other hand, she was not pleased to the slightest.

"Just smile at the cameras, don't forget about the paycheck you're getting today." Sangin repeated himself for the fifth time. "Don't cause a scene, just think about the money."

Ah right. The paycheck.

As to The Nightmare Garden was bid off for over ten-million dollars, all of today's fanciness was dedicated to her, nation's celebrated female illustrator. However in all honesty, Munyeong barely liked her so-called masterpiece, but considering the amount of cash it will make her, she could be appreciative for the sake of it.

Behind her oversized sunglasses, Munyeong glared at her pesky manager– if looks could kill, he'd already be eleven feet under his grave. Sangin shut his mouth.

"Let's just get this over with," she simply responded, hooking off her eyewear then strutted into the hall with her long legs. Eyes whipped at her and cameras started to flash intensely, almost blinding her and Munyeong wondered how much those little pests could afford her if they got her blind.

And so the event played on. More pictures were taken– as if they hadn't blind her enough cheerful compliments flowed along with the spring breeze. The insincere joker smile she mastered whilst she met her million-dollar client– according to Sangin a hotel owner, though the woman did not have the looks for it– and the glass of filthy wine she almost had a chance to taste if Sangin's sixth sense was not so creepily fast.

Another dreadful two hours later as the dusk had set, hitting the edges with its golden flare, everyone had left. They got their articles and Munyeong will certainly be getting her pools of cash.

To her displease Sangin had informed her to wait as he had to take care of some paperworks she doubted he went to bribe the press into censoring her quoted inappropriate words.

Nevertheless it was not her bother. She gave his plead a second before storming off to the complimentary section of the building.

Luck on her side, for nobody was there and she was able to grab one of the wine bottles with her– as for a fact it definitely was not stealing.

"Don't be shy, I know you want it."

Munyeong stopped within her steps as soon as an obnoxiously familiar voice echoed from the gallery she previously was in. Curiosity taking the lead, she peaked through the corner and had to muffle her own snort. Stood there, nation's art historian with the sharpest tongue– Choi Seojin.

She finds it hard to believe that his articles are highly known around, or even relevant, when his mouth is full of complete shit. However not disregarding the nastiest tea yet– a frightened girl seized under him. Her hands were locked, frightened eyes grew larger as the man spewed out nasty things.

Instantly, she took out her phone to film the disgraceful scene. Munyeong grinned to herself, reminiscing the rage she felt last time when he mentioned about her mother, and how her irritating manager had interrupted her before she could've sent him down the stairs to Satan.

The man reared into the poor girl's cheek when she attempted to fight him off, and Munyeong's smile dropped.

That piece of shit.

Munyeong entered the room, arms crossed, head high. Her wedge heels clicked against the hardwood as she let out an unamused wow.

Mad dog– what she personally thinks he should be called– 's head whipped at her with wide eyes. Like a child getting caught of lying.

"Oh my. Your hobbies are quite interesting Mr. Choi. Talking shit and sexual harassment?" Munyeong spat. "The girl looks like she'd rather kill herself, why are you even trying?"

As if he thought he could get away with what he just did, mad dog released his foul grip on the girl. Munyeong clicked her tongue and tauntingly held out her phone.

"Oh no, don't bother pretending. Judging by the looks, that won't even favor you at this point." She spared a glance at the quivering girl. "Why are you waiting? Go."

Shakingly and with thankful eyes she nodded and left, her footsteps filling void of silence before it coated the air again.

Mad dog snickered, as if there was something to laugh about. "Don't mess with me Ms. Ko. You know me, I won't die alone."

"Certainly I'll drag you and Mr. Lee down with me. Why do you think they call me the suicide bomb?"

Munyeong walked towards him and spreaded a smile, though even dogs could tell you shouldn't push her further. "You mean the bastard you can't fall down without dragging everyone else with him? Why?"

"I can destroy your career with the tip of my pen, I'm sure you know." He gave her a look, panning out his hand. "Now if you hand me your phone, I think we can compromise something."

Munyeong unraveled her arms, eyes hardening at his next sentence. "You think so?"

"Nation's beloved artist turned out to have antisocial personality disorder. What do you think will happen when people find out?" Mad dog sneered. "Her mother who mysteriously commited suicide–"

"Shut up." She warned. His words lit up the flame from their last encounter, adding fuel to her burning fire. Her head pounded, hard. For a moment she had hoped that if he proceeded as she said, then things would not have to get ugly.

"And her father? Spending his last days in the psychiatric hospital."

But men never listen, do they?

Munyeong tightened the hand around her bottle and striked it at him with full force. The bottom part crashed the wall behind him– just above the hung painting- glass shattered as rich burgundy stained its way down, smearing all over. Its taste fused with the air and Munyeong glowered at the creature who dodged her flawless aim.

"You crazy bitch!" He yelled, scrambled on the floor. But Mad dog was quick to lunge at her, they both hit the ground, stumbling as her open purse had been knocked away– and Munyeong's eyes landed on something very specific.

She was quicker, getting on her feet and spared the bastard a strong kick in the groin, leaving him groaning as she reached for her pen.

Her favorite calligraphy pen– its lining was stunning, coated in shiny teal with hints of gold, but most importantly, the dangerously sharp tip. The way it writes like reaping out blood from your hand– hence why it is a favorite.

She hawled back over and he screamed at her, though she didn't hear him. Her head was light as she felt blood rushed through her veins. Munyeong raised her arm and struck it back down.

Die.

Both of them froze. No, not her and mad dog, but him.

Deafening silence had lied between the walls and there they stood, eyes pierced into another's souls. Hers burned like fire, but his were dignified like the deep ocean.

Droplets of blood trickled down his forearm and splattered the floor, staining the rolled up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. What a waste.

"Let go. You can't kill him." The man– still with a bloody pen graved in his palm said.

Munyeong couldn't help but scoff, especially after that fucking bastard had just strangled her. "Don't be dramatic. I was just going to give him a few scratches."

Well maybe that's not entirely true.

Rough scrambling erupted underneath them, but when Munyeong turned to look, the mad dog had just ran off, like a lost puppy. Angrily she bit her lip, close to drawing blood until she felt the man draw his own hand back.

She watched as he did. The way he carefully slid her pen into his jacket and brought out a black silk handkerchief. Very rarely, she'd be astonished by something, and now it's him. Though she found it quite difficult to understand him– since when do you interrupt another's stabbing session by screwing up your own hand instead, and also the audacity to tell her she could not stab somebody?

So lost in her thoughts it took her a few seconds to realize her pulse was not pounding anymore.

"Did anyone not tell you that it is basic etiquette to not pry into someone else's business?" Munyeong said– seized the napkin from him, and began to tie a knot. She shot him a glance.

No reply. The man simply stared at her.

"Hmm?" She raised a brow, amused at his slight flinch when she tugged a little harder.

"Don't stress it too much, my manager will take care of our little incident." Munyeong chuckled as he proceeded to ignore her. "Do you know what? There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some very thoughtful freaks secretly take care of that, so clueless humans can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

She dropped his hand, anticipating for his answer. Flares of light shined through the blinds, sharpening at his strong features and she noted his small– yet devilish smile.

"A clueless freak."

He finally responded, leaning towards her. His eyes traced her face, gazing down at her lips for a second too long, before their eyes were locked once again. "And of course you will have to pay, but at what price?"

taglist -> i could not tag some of ya'll :( @anotherdush @callmeashipper @ourcoffeeaddictme @nothingcreativeyet @pancat @hotstuff-benswolo @lookingatthesunset @evielovesfood @waywarm @gloster @hello-79 @ailander

#it's okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #iotnbo #pbio fic #kdrama #kim soo hyun #seo yea ji #ko mun yeong #ko moon young #moon kang tae #hotel blue moon #hotel moon light

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hopelikethemoon · 5 years ago

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Dinner With Friends (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Dinner With Friends Rating: PG-13 Length: 3500 Warnings: Family Fluff and extremely mild angst. Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. And release order here. Set in January 1998. Shout to the one and only Tiernan for supplying the twist in this chapter. Summary: Reader and Javier host the Murphys for dinner.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

“Stevie!” You called out when she started barking loudly — Josie had ensnared her into a game with Olivia and Emily and her patience seemed to be wearing as thin as your own.

“Did you really have to name her Stevie?”

Steve questioned, shaking his head slowly as he leaned against the kitchen counter and watched you press the button on the top of the lettuce spinner.

“I love Stevie Nicks.”

He pointed at you, “And that is bullshit.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just jealous that Sofía isn’t Stevie.”

Steve glared, “Well if it starts with ‘S’.”

“I’m sorry, do you have an issue with our daughter being named for Javier’s late mother?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest briefly, before you emptied out the tossed lettuce into a larger bowl.

“Not when you put it that way.” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he took a swig of beer. “How are… things going?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, “The drought was quenched almost five months ago. Thank God.”

Steve blanched, “I don’t need to know about that.”

“You asked.”

He narrowed his eyes, “About how things are going.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m doing better. There’s still difficult days, but I work through them.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “And Javier is good at helping me.”

“He’s always been more than willing to give you a hand.” Steve said with a slow shake of his head. “The two of you were inseparable.”

You felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks. “I know. And we still are.” You grabbed a handful of freshly washed radishes and started cutting them down into smaller pieces for the salad. “He’s still just as stubborn about everything.”

“Shit. Isn’t he?” Steve snorted, rocking his head to the side.”I don’t know how you put up with that grumpy son-of—“

“Mommy!” Josie called out from the threshold of the kitchen. “Mommmmmy.”

You sat the knife aside and turned back to look at her, hands on your hips. “What’s up?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Dinner is almost ready.” You assured her. “Why don’t you go check on daddy outside?”

“Okay mommy.” Josie beamed at you. “Does daddy have sissy?”

“Aunt Connie does, rugrat.” Steve told her, “She’s out in the backyard with your father.”

“Thank you.” She said politely before leaving through the back door, followed by Emily and Olivia.

“She gets away with everything doesn’t she?”

“With Javier? Oh, yeah. I’m the strict parent. Always.” You shook your head with a laugh. You didn’t actually mind filling the role of the strict parent, mostly because Javier was a marshmallow of a father.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that.” He remarked as he took a drink of his beer, “You’ve always been the fun one. Javier? I didn’t know that fun was in his vocabulary.”

You rolled your eyes, “For the record, he was actually very fun in Colombia.”

“Really?” Steve gave you a skeptical look. “I think that might be the rose colored glasses talking.” He gestured to you with the bottle. “You were the positive influence he needed.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “He would’ve worked himself to death, if I hadn’t been there.” You scooped up the radishes you’d cut, tossing them into the bowl of lettuce. “Can you get the croutons out of the oven?”

“Look how fancy you are. Making homemade croutons.” Steve teased as he grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pan out of the oven.

“Josie will only eat a salad if there’s croutons in it.” You explained to him. “Javier hates the store bought croutons.” You grabbed the carton of cherry tomatoes, flipping the plastic lid up so you could rinse them off under the sink.

You glanced back towards the backdoor as it slid open, a parade of tiny humans reemerging, followed by Connie and Javier.

“Hot food, coming through.” Javier warned, clicking his tongue against his teeth to get the girls to move faster. “Come on kiddos.” He shooed them out from under foot as he veered towards the kitchen counter and sat the two plates of grilled burgers down. “Ever try to keep three girls away from a grill?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully as you turned to face him, tilting your head to the side. “I tried it once, which is why I sent them out to you.” You grinned at him.

“It’s fucking hard.” He chuckled before he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” You used the dish towel and swatted him in the ass with it. He caught you by the belt loop as you stepped past him, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Need any help?” Connie questioned as she cradled Sofía to her chest, looking between the two of you.

You shook your head, “You brought the potato salad and you’ve kept her occupied so I could get everything else ready.”

“Do you have ranch?” She questioned as she looked towards the bowl of salad, “It’s the only way we can get Olivia to even humor eating something green.”

Javier nodded, “Josie likes it on broccoli.” He stepped around you and pulled open the fridge to grab the bottle of ranch, as well as the other salad dressing options.

“How do you get her to eat raw broccoli?” Connie questioned. “It’s an uphill battle to get anything green into the girls.”

“Josie likes food.”

You rolled your eyes, “Josie will eat anything Javier asks her to eat.”

He shrugged, “It’s true.”

“I wish Steve had that effect on the girls.” Connie laughed softly, “He can get them to eat plenty of candy.”

You snorted. “He loves his Werthers.”

She widened her eyes dramatically, “I swear to God, every pocket is full of wrappers!”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Should’ve done the patch, rather than going cold turkey.”

“That would make sense,” Connie made a face. “Oh well.” She bounced Sofía in her arms as she started to wake up, “Did you see California is set to ban smoking inside bars?”

“They’ll just ignore it,” You countered, grabbing a tray and putting the salad and the salad bowls on it. “But it’s progress.”

The three of you headed into the dining room, where Steve had managed to corral the girls into their chairs.

“I don’t want a burger, mommy.” Josie complained as Javier sat the plate of burgers down on the table.

“You’re not eating a burger, babydoll. You’re having a soy one with me.” You promised her, pointing to the second plate that contained two burgers that were considerably thinner than the actual hamburgers.

“I want chicken.”

“Princesa, you’re eating what we made for you.” Javier warned her, sitting down beside her, across the table from you.

“Do we have everything?”

“French fries?” Olivia questioned.

“Your mother made potato salad,” Steve told her, pointing to the Tupperware tub.

You sat down beside Connie, taking Sofía from her so you could get her settled into her highchair beside you. You used your fork to grab a potato out of the dish of potato salad, plopping it onto Sofía’s highchair tray. You smashed it up with the fork, “You wanna try a bit of potato?”

Sofía seemed skeptical. She reached down and squished the potato between her fingers.

You tapped your finger against your lips, “You eat it, sunshine.”

Sofía gurgled and threw herself back against her seat, smearing the potato all over her face.

“Close enough.” Javier chuckled, shaking his head as he slathered mayonnaise on a bun for Josie.

“More!” She urged, hanging on his arm.

“Josie.” You gave her a look across the table.

Sofía kicked her feet against the highchair as she leaned over and tried to reach the tub of potato salad that was well outside of her reach. “You like that?” You questioned, grabbing another potato and putting it on her tray, smashing it up for her again.

She dramatically hummed her delight.

“Look at that, she’s not always a grumpy baby.” Steve remarked with a short laugh. “I worried she was a carbon copy of her father.”

Javier glared at him, subtly flipping him off so Josie couldn’t catch him.

You worked on fixing your own burger, glancing around the table to make sure everyone had what they needed. You really hated playing host. An ideal situation was a box of pizza thrown in the center of the table for everyone to fend for themselves. But Steve and Connie were such gracious hosts, you felt like you had to do the same.

Javier had lived on grilled cheese, whiskey, and cigarettes for the majority of his bachelor years. He wasn’t one to complain. He wasn’t actually half bad in the kitchen when he put a little effort into it.

“How’s things at the hospital?” Javier questioned Connie in between bites of burger.

Connie grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth off before answering, “Good. I’m not working as many double shifts as I was there for a while. I’ve actually had days off that felt like days off. No catching up on sleep.”

“With my transition out of the DEA, it’s been nice to have her around more.” Steve added. “Hun, did you tell her about that lady you’re working with?”

You arched a brow, looking at Connie expectantly.

“Oh! I totally forgot,” She laughed, taking a sip of water before she continued. “We’ve got a new medical social worker working on the floor that looks so much like you. I did a double take the first time I saw her. Do you have a secret younger sister?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, reaching for your bottle of beer and taking a swig. “Is my doppelgänger nice at least?”

“An absolute sweetheart.” Connie said with a grin, taking another bite of her burger before adding, “She’s actually from Medellín.”

Javier dropped his fork, causing it to clamp against his plate. You shot him a curious look, a brow arching upwards.

“Colombia?” He questioned, taking a drink of beer to keep from choking on the bite of burger he’d swallowed nearly whole.

“Is there another one?”

Steve cleared his throat, “You hadn’t mentioned she was from Colombia.” He looked between you and Javier with a knowing look.

“I believe she came here as a political refugee. I didn’t ask for specifics.” Connie shrugged, “Why?”

The look on Javier’s face made the lightbulb come on. Holy shit.

You leaned an elbow against the table, turning towards Connie. “Her name wouldn’t happen to be Elena, would it?”

Connie’s brows shot upwards, “Yeah! Wait — do you know her?”

“Some of us better than others.” Steve muttered under his breath, much to Javier’s horror.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head slowly, “She was great. I’m glad she’s gotten herself out of that situation.” You looked towards Javier then, smiling a little. “I guess that promise of safety had follow through.”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, “I had no idea she was in Miami.”

“It’s fine, Javi.” You assured him, “It’s a small world.” You watched him as he nodded his head slowly, staring down at his plate of food. Of all the people that the two of you had known in Colombia ⁠— the sheer irony that Elena had made her way to Miami was… something else.

“I feel like I’m missing something.” Connie remarked, looking between the three of you curiously. “What am I missing?”

“Not in front of the kids.” Steve stated with a shake of his head.

“Daddy, you gotta eat your veggies.” Josie said sweetly, pushing the bowl of salad towards Javier. “Don’t you wanna be big and strong like me?”

“Of course I do, princesa.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Javier, it’s fine.” You said firmly, shifting in your seat so you could brush your foot against his leg beneath the table. “Don’t get yourself bent out of shape over this.”

“I’m not getting ‘bent out of shape’.” He shot back, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stared at you. “I just can’t believe… of all the cities.”

“What am I missing?” Connie questioned, nudging you in the arm.

You sighed, chewing on the inside of your bottom lip. “Elena was one of Javi’s informants. When was that?” ‘89 to ‘92?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Steve agreed with you, pushing his potato salad around on his plate.

Javier was so tense you could see the corded muscles of his throat as he stared straight ahead at you.

“So she was an informant informant?” Connie questioned, brows furrowed as she looked towards you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “And it’s not nearly as big of a deal as Javier is acting like it is.”

Javier raked his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily as he sank back in his chair. He scratched at his lightly scruffy jaw, not quite meeting your gaze as he looked across the table at you. “It’s a big deal to me.”

Connie looked between the two of you, “I really didn’t mean to start something.”

“You didn’t.” You assured her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Hey Javi, did you leave the grill on?”

He gritted his teeth together before he gave a stiff nod, scooting his chair back and getting up from the table.

“Daddy, where are you going?” Josie asked with her mouth full of her burger.

“Daddy left the grill on.” Javier offered, meeting your gaze as you got up from the table.

“Uh-oh!” Josie said with a sing-song voice, entirely oblivious to the situation.

“We’ll hold the fort down,” Steve promised you as you followed Javier through the kitchen and out the backdoor into the yard.

He walked a few paces ahead of you, before he stopped with his back to you. You considered staying rooted to the spot where you stood, but instead you moved towards him and curled your arms around his middle, resting your cheek against his back. “Javi,” You started, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is such a non-issue.”

“For you.” He retorted, resting his hands over yours. “I feel like every time we take one step forward, something happens that sets us back. Every fucking time, baby.”

“But it’s a non-issue,” You assured him, squeezing him a little tighter. “I liked Elena the handful of times we worked together. I’m thrilled that she’s thriving. Hell, I’m glad she’s here. Miami isn’t so bad.”

Javier turned in your embrace, his hands settling at your hips. “I didn’t know she was here.”

“I didn’t think you did.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, brushing your thumb over the rise of his cheekbone as you met his gaze. “Look, I know that’s a period of history you’re not particularly fond of, but… It doesn’t bother me. At all.” You tilted your head to the side, “I thought we were working past this.” You gestured between the two of you. “There’s no other shoe waiting to fall.”

His Adam’s bobbed as he looked down at you, “I just can’t fucking believe she’s in Miami.” He shook his head slowly. “Of all the goddamn places.”

“I think she had a cousin here.” You recalled, “Shit, that was a long time ago.”

Javier nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah.” He ran his hands over your hips slowly, “Last time I saw her was right after you told me…”

“Did you tell her?” Your brows furrowed.

“I did, yeah.” He recalled, “I mean she knew about you…”

“I know she did.” You reached you and played with the hair that sat against his forehead. “I thought you didn’t tell anyone.”

He shrugged a shoulder, “It slipped out. I figured it didn’t really matter that she knew. She was happy for us.”

You smiled fondly, “I think we should meet up with her.”

“What?”

“Catch up, see how she is…”

“Baby—“

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” You raised your eyebrows. “Hell, she might not even want to see either of us.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I just think it’s too ironic that she’s working at the same hospital as Connie.”

“I’m not going.”

“That’s fine, I’ll go then.” You rose up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You need to stop worrying so much, Javi.” You brushed your nose against his as you raked your fingers through his hair at his temples. “I trust you.”

Javier curled his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. “What’d I do to deserve you, baby?”

“Still trying to figure that one out.” You teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “Come on. Connie’s going to be stressing that she’s single-handedly destroyed our relationship if we don’t get back inside.”

“She was mortified.” He chuckled.

“Not nearly as much as you were.”

“I was praying for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.”

You rolled your eyes. “You felt that way in the sex sho—”

Javier cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. “Don’t.” He warned you.

You poked him in the stomach and when he didn’t remove his hand, you swept your tongue over the palm of his hand. That worked. He quickly pulled his hand away, wiping his hand off on the front of his jeans.

“If you want to shut me up, you’re going to have to wait until we’re alone.” You told him, putting your hands on your hips, before walking backwards towards the back door. “But until then, we have guests to entertain.”

“It’s just Steve and Connie.” Javier followed after you, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Who are guests we’re entertaining.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “And you’re going to finish your food, otherwise Josie is going to believe she can skip dinner too.”

“Fine.” He huffed quietly, shaking his head as he slid the sliding door shut behind him. “But we’re dropping this conversation. I don’t wanna talk about an informant in front of the girls.”

You gave a mock salute, “Sure thing.”

Javier caught you by the belt loop, pulling you towards him. “I mean it.”

“I’m not going to bring it up again.” You promised, curling your fingers around the back of his neck. “As much as I love torturing you I’m not cruel, Javier.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you.”

You smiled up at him, “No ‘thank yous’ needed, babe.” You took his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers as he headed back for the dining room. Steve and Connie had managed to keep the kids entertained in your absence.

“She’s had about a full little potato.” Connie told you as she gestured to Sofía, “I think most of it got into her mouth.”

“She gets really into her food.” You chuckled, releasing Javier’s hand as you both returned to your own seats.

“Where’d you go daddy?” Josie asked, tilting her head to the side as she licked the dressing off a piece of radish, only to dip it into her salad bowl again.

“Like I told you,” He reached over and smoothed his hand over the top of her head. “I left the grill on.”

Connie gave you a wary look as you picked up your burger and took a bite. “So…”

“Everything’s fine.” You assured her, looking towards Steve then, “So have you heard any rumors in the DEA about the article?”

“Oh, I have.” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and shook his head. “I hope you don’t plan on looking for a job in the federal government.”

You feigned offense, “If I ever did, you’d know I had been abducted by aliens.” It was still bizarre to consider that you had spent so much of your early adulthood working towards a role in the very institution you wanted to pull down.

“Baby, you know I have a class of students that would love to see you teaching.” Javier pointed out, beaming with pride. “End of last semester, I had her come in and give a lecture for the department.”

You rolled your eyes, “It was a fifteen-minute talk.”

“With a forty-minute question and answer section.” Javier insisted, his eyes meeting yours with an adoration that warmed your heart.

“I would only disappoint them,” You licked a drop of mayonnaise off your thumb as you sat your soy burger back down. “They already think you’re a tyrant when it comes to papers and grading.”

Steve laughed, “Isn’t that because you do most of the marking for him.”

“And I go easy on them.” You grinned. “My teachers didn’t take any corners with me and I worked my ass off to get here.”

“I don’t know if I can picture you as a teacher,” Connie said, giving you a once over. “No, I can’t.”

“Thankfully,” Javier started with a teasing tone. “They’re college students and not children.”

“And what does that mean?” You questioned, looking in between the two of them. “I am a delight.”

“You certainly lectured us a lot. Back in the day.” Steve joined in.

“Was I wrong?”

“Rarely.” He agreed.

“Well, we can't all be Professor Peña, now can we?” You quipped, nudging Javier’s foot under the table.

He scratched at his jaw, shaking his head. “No, we can’t.”

“But I’m always interested in dropping in to torment you and Monica.”

“Do the other students know that you’ve all but adopted her?” Steve questioned.

You started to answer, but Olivia was quick to announce, “I’m adopted!”

Josie turned towards Javier, “Am I adopted?”

“No princesa, you weren’t adopted.” Javier assured her as she grabbed at his arm.

“Was sissy adopted?”

“No. Remember your mommy grew her in her belly?” Javier reminded her, giving Connie a sympathetic smile, before his eyes flickered towards your face. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

“Seriously.” You laughed as you shook your head, reaching for your beer. “To answer your question, no. They don’t know.”

“Trying to keep things unbiased.” Javier explained as he scooped Josie into his lap, much to her delight. “She actually earned herself a B- on a test this week she should’ve aced.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Her attentions a little stretched right now.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes, “Oh to be young and in love.”

“Old and in love isn’t too bad, is it?” He countered with a wink.

You grinned, “It’s pretty good too.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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kumkaniudaku · 5 years ago

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All Year

Kinda the second part to Hey, Neighbor. I’ll keep writing as long as y’all keep wanting, tbh. There’s not a specific plan for this. Plus, I get to share songs from my playlist. Enjoy!

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

Recommended Listening: All Year by 11:11

Two glasses sat on the coffee table distorting the image of two 20 somethings engrossed in a conversation about nothing important. You sat with your legs neatly crossed over each other while Yahya turned his body toward yours to show that you had his full attention. He smiled with his whole face as you recounted workplace antics, waiting for his turn to speak.

“So, you’re telling me about all of this cool stuff, but I still don’t know what you do.”

Your eyes grew wide before you shook your head and let out a nervous laugh. “Shoot, I’m sorry. Sometimes I talk too much without getting to the point.”

“Don’t apologize. I like listening to you talk.”

Your stomach flooded with metaphorical butterflies as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. He watched your flustered response with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

“To answer your question, I’m an Art Director at an agency in the city. The Art Director I should say. I just got promoted this morning.”

“Aye, look at you,” he encouraged, lightly placing his palm on your knee and nudging the spot. “I think we should drink to that. How ‘bout you?”

You could only murmur an “uh-huh” while your eyes and mind lingered on the fact that his hand didn’t move as he distributed the last of the white wine evenly between both glasses. Your body felt hot all over until he shifted to grab both glasses and extend one as an invitation to join the festivities.

“What should we toast to?”

“How you gon’ propose a toast with nothing to toast to,” you laughed as you took an early sip.

“Touché. I’ll take that.” The room became still while he watched you close your eyes and enjoy the fruity notes in his favorite white.

The way the amber lights from the nearby lamp accentuated the golden undertones of your skin made you look celestial in the moonlight. He couldn’t lie, if you didn’t have his attention when he caught a glimpse of you moving in a year ago, you certainly had it then.

“Let’s toast to your promotion and R&B. Without Tevin Campbell, we probably wouldn’t be on this nice ass couch that I’m afraid to sit on.”

“Ha!” Your sudden outburst startled Leche, earning both you and Yahya a side-eye and growl. After apologizing, you turned back to your guest and smiled. “Alright, to R&B.”

“And promotions. Don’t skip your accomplishment.”

You dropped your eyes bashfully before looking up to find an intense set of eyes waiting for your response. “Alright. To R&B and promotions.”

“There we go!”

Both of you maintained eye contact throughout the toast for tradition’s sake, taking long sips to feed your desires for a social buzz that gave people a boost of confidence.

Setting his glass down, Yahya turned to you and smiled. “Well, we just got saved from seven years of bad sex.”

“Hell, I hope so,” you laughed. Immediately after the words left your lips you wish you could have gathered them and placed them back into the confines of your mind.

Unfortunately, it was too late. Yahya’s eyebrows lifted to match his surprised laugh.

“Good to know I’m not the only one experiencing the cuffing season drought.”

“Nuh-uh.” Unfolding your legs, you made a beeline for the kitchen to grab bottles of water. “You can’t ask about my sex life when you haven’t even told me what you do for a living.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “I am an architect with five years in the city planning office under my belt.”

“Woooow, impressive! What’s that like?”

“You know, it’s fun when it’s fun and work when it’s work. It’s not nearly as fun as working with Matt Ryan on a product shoot, but it pays the bills.”

You rolled your eyes at his playful dig, “Whatever. Gettin’ that architect bag has to help during cuffing season, no?”

“It...has its benefits. But, I don’t usually participate in cuffing activities.”

“Why’s that? Trying to maintain your roster?”

“Trying to maintain something more substantial.”

His quick response caught you off guard, leaving you to take another sip of wine and search your brain for something to continue the conversation.

“So, how does it feel to know you live next to someone with such impeccable music taste? It must be overwhelming.”

“You got jokes,” he laughed, revealing his near-perfect smile more than he could remember doing in recent memory. “It’s only gonna be cool if said neighbor continues to lure me into her apartment with Jodeci and pasta.”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think for a moment before grinning. “I think I can do that.”

Tagging those that expressed interest. Let me know if you wanna be tagged too.

@earthformelanin @mufasathatniggatho @hidden-treasures21 @justanotherloveaffair @jozigrrl @essaysbyciara @chaneajoyyy @determinednot2fall

#yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fic

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

Note

I'd like love headcanons about the new champions. Specifically like how they would interact with their Divine Beasts, how they would socialize with the Champions' spirits, and how they interact with Zelda. I love your blog by the way, it's so creative and I love your stories!

Thanks a bunch! Sorry this took a bit, I had a ton of ideas for the Divine Beasts…

Anyway, let’s get into some

New Gen Champion Headcanons!

So Hyrule is saved and now we just got a bunch of giant mechanical beasts laying around

What to do, what to do…

No one can seem to really control the Divine Beasts as it requires a telekinetic connection, and the beasts have to recognize someone’s soul and spirit as worthy…yada-yada

Even Link was cheating a bit, as he only controlled the terminals of the Beasts with his Sheikah Slate. He didn’t have the power to actually tame them, he could only just tilt them around a bit. Hylia knows Link doesn’t need four giant machines capable of causing mass destruction anyway

Zelda, as usual, takes the initiative to find a solution. Who better to tame these Divine Beasts than the ones who helped defeat them!

Enter, the New Champions

Sidon was excited when Ruta responded to him. I mean, such a creature had judged his sister Mipha worthy of commanding it. So the fact that he could also control Vah Ruta resonated with him, as it meant that maybe he could live up to his sister…

Of course, some of the older Zora, including his father, were wary, considering the Divine Beasts were so closely linked with Mipha’s death

But Sidon is determined, he wants to be useful and help Link (aw) and all of Hyrule. He’ll convince everyone that it’s his duty as a noble to help everyone with the Divine Beast.

“Besides, my sister will be watching over me!”

Sidon and Ruta very helpful whenever there’s droughts or a bad harvest. People don’t even need to report anything. Sidon and Ruta just instinctively know if people need rain.

And Ruta does have a mind of her own. She (yeah we’re using she for all the beasts, like boats, ya know?) is sort of playful and just randomly splashes water on Sidon every now and then.

I also like to think the trunk doubles as a speaker, and Sidon just blasts music whenever he feels like it

It seem Yunobo was the only one bewildered that Rudania responded to him’

“W-what?! Why me? All I did was tag along with Link and headbut it a few times…”

It would take some convincing from the elders that he was up for the job

“Nonsense kid. You did what none of us could do. You’re the one who tackled that old lizard head on! Plus, you’re graced with Daruk’s protection. You helped save Goron City, You got this, brother!”

So Yunobo became a Champion, able to tame Divine Beast Vah Rudania. He’s a bit flustered with this new found fame, but he gets through it. After all, the whole ordeal with Link has made him a bit braver

I like to think Rudania’s personality is serious, an all work no play kind of guy. Purely because it clashes with the personality of both Daruk and Yunobo so much. (Hc that’s why Daruk was struggling with his Divine Beast originally)

Rudania moves on their own, without Yunobo’s input sometimes, so they can move out of the way of falling rocks and stuff. The lizard acts like a big old grump

Anyway, the Goron mining business is BOOMING, literally. Those turrets and drones that Rudania has? Super helpful when scanning dangerous areas by Death Mountain, and for identifying valuable ore.

Also Rudania’s fireproof-ness is great on checking on how active the volcano is, a super helpful asset under a slightly anxious Goron youth. Fun!

Teba takes up the job, no questions asked. No one’s that surprise that the best warrior is the successor for the Divine Beast, but he cares a lot about living up to Revali’s legacy. He gets Medoh to respond immediately, and he’s probably the most skilled out of the four new champions with his beast.

However, it takes time for him to warm up, to Medoh. The thing almost killed his best friend, and shot a laser at him after all. Teba does what’s necessary to maintain Medoh, and nothing more.

Vah Medoh basically is a mama bird. It uses its Sheikah tech to keep the inside toasty for whenever Teba comes, she glows warmly in the night, even the propellers are used to blow fast gusts of wind to help Rito get places fast.

Eventually, Teba gets along with Medoh when he practices archery with Tulin on Medoh’s back. The updrafts of the grates there are even better and faster than the natural ones at the flight range.

Vah Medoh’s cannons/turrets are helpful when dealing with the numerous monsters near the Hebra Range. Talus? Gone. Ice Lizalfo camp? Obliterated. Hinox? Dead. This part is probably something Teba enjoys too, he’s a warrior first and foremost anyway, so dealing with monsters so easily boosts his ego, just a bit.

Everyone was ecstatic for Riju. Everyone, especially Bularia, is so proud. Look at all those achievements under her belt! Youngest Chief, has a sand seal prophet, defeated Vah Naboris, oversaw the reclamation of the Thunderhelm and the Yiga Clan Hideout (although that last one was mostly Link, but no one knows that because, he’s a guy, scandalous)

Riju works well enough with her Divine Beast, the Thunder Helm pairs well, and she feels like she’s growing into it anyway.

Naboris is a show off. Stomping for no reason, hanging out in thunderstorms and sandstorms just to look cool? Yes. And Riju plays along with this because what kids doesn’t wanna look cool with a giant mecha beast? With Naboris, Chief Riju is starting to outgrow her fears of being seen as a bad leader, cause a Divine Beast is a pretty good testament to how hard you work for your people. (Aw, her mom would be proud)

Let’s talk about those Electric Generators. This Divine Beast can harness energy from the earth? And has natural electrical systems? So, so, helpful not just for the desert, but for everyone in general. Naboris’ electrical power is used to power other machines and technology, allowing for heating, water systems, lights, the whole sha-bang. And the fact that there’s a lightning rod to attract the lightning, which not only keeps people safe, but harnesses the natural elements of the land? *chef’s kiss*

You bet your ass Zelda hangs out with Naboris a lot too, reverse engineering portable electricity could help all of Hyrule get back on their feet. I’m talking Industrial Revolution baby, (but without the exploitation of the working class and poverty, ya know, only the good stuff)

But besides that, Riju uses Naboris to navigate the desert. You don’t need to worry about sandstorms and such when you’ve basically got a walking house. It’s lights also serve as good waypoints for travelers, or beacons for those that are lost.

Now as for the original Champions…. Well the ending of botw was pretty clear that they had passed on. They sorta disappear…cause they found peace…and all that. I know the point of fanfic is to ignore canon and create your own endings and ideas, but if I got into how I think the Champions would be revived this would be a much longer post, lol.

So we’ll just leave it at, everyone happy. Hyrule is prospering, Zelda and Link are leading a new generation of Champions and helping the people of the land. Everyone gets together and has a sleepover and Link’s house every now and again. And Teba adopts everyone because he is basically the only adult. Yay!

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #sidon botw #yunobo #yunobo botw #teba #teba botw #botw riju #riju botw #zelda #zelda botw #link #link botw #botw champions #divine beast #botw headcanons

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shardminds · 5 years ago

Text

wild animal (livin’ like a fine young cannibal)

pairing: emma swan/killian jones rating: t (maybe light m) wc: 2200 and some change

An abandoned warehouse wouldn't be Emma's first choice for a date location. Killian finds a way to convince her otherwise.

work has been stressing me out and i have a million and one things to work on (i’m looking at you csss part 3!) but this crawled its way out of my brain, massively enabled by @darkcolinodonorgasm and further encouraged by @artistic-writer (who made this beautiful cover! isn’t it great? i’ve never had a fic cover before! i’m still emotional about it). thank you, ladies! this is essentially the blood rave scene from blade only with less violence and more kissing.

tagging: @thisonesatellite @teamhook @kmomof4 @superchocovian@itsfabianadocarmo @killianjonesownsmyheart1 and, if you wanna be added or removed from this list, just gimme a shout!

available on ao3 ♠

He’d told her to dress, as he so bluntly phrased it, good enough to eat. She’d tried her best to adhere to the code, pairing her favourite leather mini skirt and a thin camisole with fuck-me heels and fishnets. She’d foregone a jacket, knowing that Killian would lend her his if the chill became too much. The way his leather hangs off her, arms just slightly too long but still soft and worn, is one of the pros of having a boyfriend impervious to the cold. Regardless, the main appeal of her outfit isn’t practicality, it’s the fact that at least three of the souvenirs Killian has blessed her with are proudly on show—one at the juncture of her neck, another on her inner wrist, and another just peeking from beneath the hem of her skirt. They catch in the streetlights, glowing temporarily in the luminescence as her Uber trails the city streets, en route to the address he’d texted. There are others, countless others, along her ribs, her breasts, her thighs, faint scars she’d asked him for, a curse on his breath every time she did.

Emma never thought she’d be into it, the territorial possession that comes with having a vampire for a lover, that is. In the past, she rebuffed it, not willing to be taken as anyone’s property, human or otherwise. She’d told Killian the same, at first, unafraid of the fangs he flashed with each smirk. He respected her wishes, kept his distance, with the promise of forever in his eyes and one night on his lips. Over time, something about him drew her in, no glamour or coercion, just… something else, a kind of other that intrigued her, in the depth of his eyes and that knowing smile.

Then again, she’s always had a thing for older guys.

Three arduous weeks later, she’d fucked him in the bathroom stall of a club she can’t remember the name of and delighted in the awestruck look on his face as she sank to her knees before him.

It’s a fond memory.

And it was never just one night.

The warehouse is shady at best, murderous at worst, and Killian greets her at the entrance. Everything about him is appealing, from the artful dishevelment of his hair and the dark silk of his shirt, right down to the snug fit of his jeans and that same promise in his eyes. Eternity looks fucking amazing on him, and he knows. At this point, he could wear nothing but a bedsheet and he’d still be the most attractive being she’s ever seen—in fact, she might prefer that. Maybe later, if they make it home.

“I see you took the dress code to heart, love.” He drawls, his eternal smirk present, pulling her in by the waist for a searing kiss. Searing is an understatement, really. Each time he brings her in like this, close enough that she can taste his hunger—iron and ash—masked by the sweetness of rum just before their lips touch, she can feel parts of herself float away. The tensions and stresses from her day dissipate against his mouth, lost in each breath between them. Killian is a fantastic kisser and, as her tongue catches on the point of a fang, she knows that he knows it.

“Hello to you too.” Fighting off breathlessness, Emma pulls away. They won’t make it to whatever it is he has planned if they keep kissing like that. The urge to call another Uber back home already far too prevalent in her mind. It would be so easy, like every other time, just falling into bed with him.

He laughs, keeping his hand at her waist but allowing space between them. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” She adds, a smile playing at her lips. Instead of pulling away and taking his hand like she usually does, Emma decides against taking him up on the offer of space. “I’ve been wondering about your date night plan all day.”

“It’s... unconventional, to say the least.”

She shrugs, lacing their fingers together. “So are we.”

“Right you are, lass.” Killian’s smile takes her by surprise. It’s not his usual, cocky, self-assured grin. It’s pride, admiration and something warmer that settles in her stomach when she catches it. She pushes it aside, saving it for later as Killian meets her for another brief kiss. “Shall we?”

The warehouse itself is empty, a cavernous space with a creaking steel frame and concrete floors. Each step she takes causes an echo; each breath leaves a puff of condensation in the frigid air. Killian doesn’t seem swayed by this and walks them both across the expanse to a giant metal door, taking the rusted lever in hand and twisting it open with minimal exertion. It groans, hinges protesting as it creeps open, to reveal the cacophony of noise behind it. Thudding bass and warped vocals swelling and falling in time to the heavy beat. Upon entry, they’re met with writhing bodies, lost in the rhythm, crammed into what was once probably an industrial standard cold store. Despite everything, they make way for Killian to enter.

Suddenly, Emma feels decidedly overdressed.

“A rave?” She has to shout to make herself heard, although, come to think of it, Killian probably has no trouble hearing her at all, regardless of the party going on around them. “I never expected this to be your kind of thing.”

He winks then, before pulling her against him, his chest to her back. Emma’s breath catches in her throat, a moan prepared to escape at a second’s notice. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Swan.”

Like that, pressed together so close she can feel every breath he takes, she allows herself to get lost, the white noise numbing her senses to their basest needs. Him. Each time she pushes back, he rocks forward, eliciting the most delicious feelings from deep within. It’s intoxicating, being with him. Not the blood, nor the sex. Just being. Waking up to his touch, falling asleep to his breathing, making coffee, getting breakfast, talking, dancing—the small things. It’s always the small things. He treats her with veneration, a kind of reverence that no one else has, and—as much as she wishes she could deny it, that she could walk away from all this and still be the same old Emma—he’s changed her so irreversibly, she’s not sure what her life would be without him in it.

They’re being watched—no, she’s being watched. Eyes follow them—her as she moves, letting the music take her wherever it will. It courses through her like a second heartbeat, and the voyeurism of it all, familiar and unfamiliar faces flitting back to them—her as Killian trail’s his hands all over, his lips fused to her neck—it’s a heady mix. Whatever he’s got planned, whatever happens next, Emma knows that she’ll be sore in the morning. In the best way, of course. Freshly fucked and freshly drained.

The music never seems to change, the pulse of it thrumming beneath her skin until she can feel the drop coming, inching closer until it reaches its peak. Her stomach falls along with it. He whispers in her ear, but she can’t make sense of his words, falling deaf in favour of the music around them. The caress of his lips on her lobe has her arching back, pressing her ass against him in a tease. She can feel how ready he is, solid against her as she grinds back into him.

The guttural snarl, she can feel, reverberating through his chest on a silenced down beat. His hands go to her wrists, grasping them and tracing his fingertips up her thighs and over her stomach, devilishly slow, one catching over her nipple as he passes over her chest, continuing higher and higher until they’re held above her head, high in the air, alongside everyone else’s on the dancefloor. The music builds and builds and builds, heavy and palpable between them, cementing everyone together in one single goal: to dance. Killian presses a kiss to her ear, tongue darting out to tease as the music pauses for a second in the build-up to yet another drop.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Then the world goes red and she screams.

Cheers erupt from around them as blood pours from the ceiling, sprinkling over the patrons below like a downpour after a drought. The crowd synchronise, palms to the sky, heads tilted back, mouths wide open and jumping along to the discordant thumping as they get their fill of the life source they’re being drowned in. It tastes like iron and chemicals, tacky and cool to the touch, nothing like what Killian had described when he tasted her. He’d compared her to fine wine, to love and sex and everything he missed of being human. Her hands, still held in the air by his grasp, are lined with rivulets of red, each one making its path wherever gravity may take it. The taboo of it has her shivering. Pulling her wrists free and turning to look upon his face, she places her palms on his chest.

It’s chaos.

He’s smiling. A wicked smile, white teeth and dark eyes. He could kill her right now. The recognition of that immediate danger only makes it so much better when he steps closer, eradicating the distance between them.

Fuck.

She wants him, needs him, and when he leans to lick a stripe up her cheek to catch the dripping ichor there, she moans, losing herself to the sensation. He’s a monster and she can’t get enough. In all her life, she’d never anticipated that she’d enjoy such publicly lewd displays of affection but, as Killian laps at the pool of blood gathered above her clavicle, she could not give less of a shit about the hundreds of prying eyes in the room. It’s euphoric, feeling him hard against her as he feeds, taking his fill from the blood trailing over her skin. The familiar lick of her arousal curls low in her belly, demanding to be felt.

She can't stand it—the absence of his lips against hers, tracing over every piece of exposed flesh except the place she wants him most, the chill it brings, the pleasure it ignites within her. There's nothing quite like it. It’s infuriating, maddening, and it reduces her to nothing more than a whimpering mess as his tongue makes its way back up her neck and along her jaw. He comes to a halt there, pausing and pulling back to take her in. He’s fucked, hair soaked through in the initial pandemonium of the bloodbath, eyes glossy and intense but not as dark as they had been earlier, his ocean blue peering through—it only goes to prove the effect he sustenance he’d laved from her flesh is having. He’s covered in blood, completely drenched with it and he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. Even like this, surrounded by creatures of nightmare and legend, she can’t help but crave him. With lips parted, he leans in to give her what she desires.

“I fucking love you.” It’s a whisper against her lips, punctuated with fangs tugging on the plump skin there and—well, Emma can’t help herself. It’s not the first time he’s said it and it won’t be the last. Killian Jones has walked the earth for three centuries. He kisses with purpose, fucks with passion and loves unconditionally and Emma Swan, with almost three decades under her belt, can’t find the words to say it back. Not yet. Instead, she throws her arms around his neck, finding his lips with a kiss as the blood rain falls around them and the tantalizing beat drives the crowd.

The kiss is wild; deep, needy and feral in its urgency. It’s fangs and moans and tongues and teeth. It’s messy, the cloying copper taste of blood still lingering between them. It’s perfect.

Before Emma can even think to protest, Killian’s hoisting her up, lifting until her legs are securely wrapped around his waist. Tonight was not the night to wear a skirt but Emma can’t bring herself to regret it. She can already feel it riding up, threatening to expose her ass to the crowd. It’s a blessing she’d opted to wear underwear at all, especially knowing that Killian has a habit of tearing them off in his haste to get to her core. The sharp scratch of his fangs against her bottom lip snaps them both out of their lustful haze for just long enough for Emma to know without words what it is he wants. His gaze, hungry as ever, flits to her chest.

Her shirt’s gone in seconds, torn off by her own impatient hands and his dexterous ones. It comes away in two pieces, thrown aside without a care, revealing the black lace of her bra beneath. It had cost her thirty dollars but, sat at his waist, skin tinted red with the sanguine rainfall, Emma can't bring herself to care. The caress of sharp fangs against the swell of her breast, edging her closer and closer to madness yet grounding her at the same time, tethering her to him, is almost too much. She needs the bite just as much as he does. The call of it strikes deep in her bones, screaming for him. She used to be ashamed of it, fearing just how much she enjoys his deadly kiss, but those memories are all but dust now. In their place, only want.

When he takes one look at her, right before his enamelled canines pierce her skin, she's lost to him.

#cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfiction #ficminds #legit just gimme vampire killian jones forever #i'm not lying #warnings on ao3!

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telesthisia · 4 years ago

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HANDY DANDY RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET FOR PRINCESS ZELDA (A Link to the Past)!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: Amber!! ooc contact: My DMs are always open for mutuals and non-mutuals alike (I think at least, if not don’t be afraid to send in asks either I try my best to get to them ;v;)! I do have a personal blog but weeps.... me no longer active on there. And a twitter but weeps once again, it’s an oc twitter despite my yellings of off topic things. MY DISCORD TOO!! Though my activity is very inconsistent somedays I’ll be on others not so much! Don’t be afraid to ask for that uvu

who the heck is my muse anyway?

HOHO!!! For those who never touched The Legend of Zelda in their lives, I’m sure it’s pretty dang confusing to see more than one design of both Zelda and Link, I’ll try my best to explain this! The series follows a very, very convoluted timeline filled with plotholes, as such the Links and Zeldas we see throughout different titles of the game are actually reincarnations who are destined to seal away whatever darkness may threaten the lands known as Hyrule.

The Zelda I play as is the princess of Hyrule during a point in the timeline known as “Downfall Era” where the Hero of Time in OOT lost against Ganondorf in the final battle; Ocarina of Time is the reason for why there’s multiple timelines with each having their unique era depending on the choices in that game. The Downfall Era is known for having games known as A Link to The Past, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Time, Link’s Awakening, A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes, The OG Legend of Zelda, Annnnd Adventure of Link! The Zelda I play as comes from A Link to The Past as well as the Oracle series and I guess Link’s Awakening despite having no appearance. The events of A Link to The Past and Oracle Series has deeply affected my Zellie in that she suffers from unspoken traumas as well depression. See, before the events of ALTTP there was a war known as the Imprisoning War, that war ended where the seven sages seal away Ganon. Peace reigned for a while until a series of plagues and droughts struck which affected the kingdom. It wasn’t until the antagonist of the game, a wizard by the name of Agahnim, would put an end to the misfortunate blighting Hyrule with his magic, gaining favor with the king. He was able to worm his way into court and from there act on his plans in breaking the seal to the sacred realm where the triforce and Ganon rest. Doing so, he must capture the seven maidens who are descendants of the seven sages and sacrifice them in order to break the seal and well, guess which princess happens to be one of those seven maidens? Suffice to say, he was successful in breaking the seal with Zelda being the final sacrifice. Here we find out that he’s actual the alter ego of Ganon (don’t question it too hard) and we also find out she’s not dead! Hooray! But she is trapped in a plane known as The Dark World, once the sacred realm corrupted by Ganon’s greed. So as all LOZ stories goes, Link saves the day. Happily ever after, right? Well... no, see unlike in the game where the ending is happy and everyone who died is alive I follow both the 90s comics and Himekawa manga where those who died in the games did not come back to life. This includes Zelda’s father, Link’s uncle and some of the maidens. It’s very bittersweet in that, the day is saved and Ganon is gone forever but at the cost of loved ones no longer coming back.

Well... Ganon comes back! In the oracle series! Two years after ALTTP, Twinrova tries to resurrect him by using the blood and body of Princess Zelda, meaning she can actually die this time around. But Link saves the day once again. Which leads us today, the main verse of the blog which is a year after Oracles and three years after ALTTP! NOTE: That my smash verse more or less follows this timeline I have in place for this blog.

things you should know

I sound like a broken record but. She’s a glass canon of sorts. Where she’s very powerful thanks to blood of the seven sages, the light force, and having hylia’s blood in her veins. As such, she’s very powerful and her magic super potent which is why so many people wanna sacrifice for dark rituals... BUT!! She has super power health issues that affects her magical stamina and body as such she can’t even use half her powerful magic and this upsets her greatly. It’s a small headcanon of mine because in the games and manga, she doesn’t really do much despite being a powerful magical princess. Keep in mind that ALTTP came out before the retcon that is Skyward Sword and before they decided to add more to Zelda’s abilities throughout the course of the series... so my brain went to: she’s powerful but can’t use magic too much due to poor health. It worked!! Before smash came along but I swear I’m not at all salty. To be fair, it was my fault for assuming things but imagine: glass canon Zelda. It sounded super cool at the time!

She represses a lot if only for the sake of her nation and to appear as a good leader for her people. As such, she’s almost always calm and has a gentle smile on her face despite radio static sounds resounding in her thoughts. Give her time, she’ll open up and show you her playful side!

She’s been surrounded by death considering before ALTTP, during ALTTP and kinda with Oracles if you count Twinrova, as well as having a connection with the spirit realm due to freaky PSI powers. So, she doesn’t really have a negative view on death and has actually gained that edgy romanticist view as the result of her life experiences. She’s very much someone who likes to live life to her fullest as the result... and well, it doesn’t help that she’s aware of her short life span thanks to her future vision. Something she won’t reveal to anyone more than likely as to not worry them. She’s more or less accepted her fate... speaking of which

She hates fate/destiny/etc but accepts whatever happens because again clairvoyance has proven that there’s no changing what’s been planned. So, she doesn’t bother fighting against it. But, what impresses her are those who manage to overcome destiny, something that Link does sometimes which is why she looks up to him. He’s that variable that the future can’t keep track of due to how ever changing he is.

She loves exploring creepy places, ruins, caves, and dungeons that are scattered throughout her kingdom, for both history and the spooky aesthetics of it! So if you see her outside the castle she’s more than likely getting ready to explore some spooky place. She’s almost always wearing her cloak but there are rare moments where she’s not either ;v; she’ll always go by the name Elle... worth mention she doesn’t bother hiding the mark of the triforce on her right hand.

Speaking of which, only people from the capital known as Castle Town and even some from Kakariko village as well know of the princess’ appearance. Various small towns throughout the land of Hyrule however, only remember her appearance from ALTTP where her hair was a more golden blonde rather than the platinum color that it’s taken from the various fear and stresses from her life. And also, she’s more freckly due to not wearing coverup when outside the castle. Ok well,,,,, here’s the best side by side comparison I have...

If you ask her what the light arrows are, she’ll look at you funny. She comes from a time where silver arrows are a thing :’) the few things that can defeat Ganon

Closet romantic, as in she loves love and wishes for a romance of her own but when it comes to her own feelings she’s an idiot due to repressing feelings.

what she’s been up to:

main verse: Which is during the events of Skyward Sword, as such she’s no longer in Skyloft nor does she have the full knowledge that she’s Hylia but Zelda is suspecting that there’s a connection there. She does not know how to wield her magic as it comes and goes in spurts. She’s seen throughout the Surface so she can be anywhere! Even in other timelines due to using the Gate of Time, we can just say that something screwed up causing for her to end up in another time period or even verse! LOZ series is pretty flexible in time travel.

where to find her:

Graveyard + Sanctuary: It’s a soothing place to visit and also to pay respects to the fallen in ALTTP.

One of the three provinces (my rendition of Hyrule is a little bigger than the in game map so don’t be afraid to add places that aren’t in ALTTP but in other titles, I know I tend to do): aka anywhere in the fields, she’s a woman plagued with wanderlust and doesn’t like being confined to one place

Kakariko: the villagers who know her true identity are hella nice to pretend that it’s not the princess but Elle! Guards tend to be here after a certain time though, so to avoid them she always avoids going to the village when it’s nearly sundown

Ruins, catacombs, abandon shrines etc: again she likes creepy or historical places or both!

Haunted Grove: Well... it’s haunted! So :’)

Castle: it’s possible to meet her here too! Whether as princess or someone sneaking either out of the castle or back into it.

current plans:

Lead her kingdom to the Golden Age, something her father tried to do before his demise. While wishing to see Link once more.

desired interactions:

I would love the usual adventure threads!!!

FRIENDSHIP!! She needs friends, pls!!

ENEMIES!! It’d be fun to write a more angry Zel who doesn’t get along with someone!

ROMANCE!! I’m a sucker for cuteness ;v; and slow burn ;v;

HORROR AU!! HORROR AU!!!

Creepy gothic threads of Zelda running into a creepy cryptid in a gothic castle on a stormy night.... this is very specific but listen, cries...

Comfort thread ;v;

things that bother me:

People who know she’s the princess right off the bat ticks me off ngl. A-ok if you muse is unaware of her otherwise!

PEOPLE WHO KNOW THAT SHE’S FROM A BLOODLINE OF A GODDESS AND SAGES DHSJAKJADB no one really knows that the royal family actually did descend from gods, unless your muse is an immortal and is aware of the events that goes on they shouldn’t know this fact. The only thing the public is aware of is how the royal family have mystical powers different from the population.

uhhhh that’s about it? Mostly metagaming pft, not too much bothers me now that I think about.

tagged by: i pirated it ;v; from myself!

tagging: whomst ever! i recommend doing this since it’ll help a ton with those who still are unsure with your muse but feel too nervous to ask questions.

#dash games.#ah yes.... where amber spews a bunch of words #i will add to this but eyyyy partners check it out if you wanna know some things #anyway uhhh writings coming out soon uvu

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starrkdani · 5 years ago

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Exactly! I use the mute and block feature on social media when things go overboard, idgaf anymore. It helps to keep my sanity intact. Your second + third para are very important, I always say the same thing but many ppl don't realize that delulu toxic behavior causes celebs to refrain from posting stuff - sometimes to the extent of avoiding interactions in public / on screen! Then they wanna bitch abt drought and lack of content 🙃 I hate ppl that have no self awareness. It's one of my petpeeves

And it’s just like??? If you really “aren’t a jealous/obsessive fan” why is that something that’s crossing your mind anyway, ygm? Their personal lives and what they’re doing w/their lives aren’t really anyone’s concern. It’s almost like some fans would really rather speculate on or believe that they’re just mindlessly sleeping around at any given chance, as opposed to developing deep connections w/people that AREN’T them. It’s weird on another level, it must scare them or smth.It’s that scared feeling that I think leads some fans to induldge in those extremes, focusing too much on their personal lives or the ships. For the shipping aspect, it’s probably more comforting to think that the boys are dating each other, than it is to fathom that they’re dating “competition” (either other female idols or non-celebrity females). I’m betting it’s easier for them to look for “clues” abt ships and feel a sense of control that way, than to admit they don’t have insight into their personal dating lives. If that makes sense? I feel like I see this so clearly and it just grates on my nerves more often than not. Some fans really need to understand and PRACTICE healthy boundaries with their artists, and realize that claiming you “don’t care” about the fact that they’re likely dating/sleeping with people behind the scenes, but making it a point of every fucking twt is ABSURD, invasive, creepy, and crossing the line. Obligatory disclaimer: tarot tends to be a bit different (astro as well), because it’s often more lighthearted and it’s just fans’ way of looking for deeper insight into their personalities and futures. When it comes to sexual content in this little community, I don’t view it to be all that different than like, writing smut. It’s based on intuition rather than invasive speculation and assumptions, ygm? Even if one believes deeply in astro/tarot, there’s no scientific basis/concrete proof, and that’s important to keep in mind too.

Ah, yes, Nonny, I agree with you a lot. Some observations:

Korean fans (and now some western fans are picking up the habit as well) tend to think of Idols as their ~property~. It’s complicated really, because Idols are created to cater to fans fantasies.

This originates all kinds of bad behavior, like... hating on Idols partners (even if they are not confirmed, or just a ‘potential’ partner, ridiculous, shipping, even more ridiculous protests when they date, etc, etc. Korea industry was ok with this, as it kept money coming and all. But with Kpop getting popular worldwide.... many things may happen.

I think the best example for his is SM. When Sungmin married, he was instantly banned from Super Junior, as fans requested. But Chen’s situation was recieved in a much more accomodating way by the company, despite protests.

I think international fans had a lot to do with it, as it is a great market for their idols. And dating bans have a very bad reputation out of Korea, so not good for business. And they don’t want to risk the loss of it, especially now that Kpop is growing so much. It might get better. I hope it does.

I think you’re right about tarot/astrology blogs. Most do it for fun, or to practice, or to maybe get a better understandinf of their faves. We are mostly chill.

HOWEVER, I recenlty saw someone on the bts astrology tag claiming to be JK’s soulmate. I was like...... bitch........ please don’t.

#Nonny #talk to me ppl

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the-backspin-alchemist · 5 years ago

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Get To Know Me Tag

Alright I know this is like a day and a half late but I’ve been semi-busy doing stuff and that’s a vague as hell excuse but it’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it!

Shout-out to @simplyghosting for the tag.

Rules: Answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you wanna get to know better.

1. Nickname: Backspin in digital space, otherwise my name on its own is my nickname in meatspace.

2. Zodiac sign: I think I’m technically a Capricorn?

3. Height: 5’7 (about average)

4. Hogwarts house: No idea. Given their propensity for dumbassery from what little I remember of the books, probably a Gryffindor.

5. Last thing I googled: “Korg NTS-1 price”

6: Favorite artist(s): Ooooof there could be a lot here. Uuuuuh let’s see...Rush, Pendulum, Jade Cicada, Skrillex, Au5, Smashing Pumpkins, Daft Punk, Porter Robinson, FLOW, GRiZ, Hainbach, Linkin Park, Jeff Williams, Vulfpeck, Foo Fighters, Andrew Huang...I could go in for a while, but I’m pretty sure y’all don’t want four-paragraph/long lists.

7. Song stuck in my head: Tesselate - alt-J

8. Favorite time(s) of day: nighttime. Things are nice and quiet and it’s really pretty when the moon is out.

9. Favorite color(s): blue, purple, black, silver. Golden-yellow gets an honorable mention.

10. Following: 283 (that number feels kinda high...)

11. Followers: 749 (I have no idea when that number got that high but I can tell not a lot of them are actually paying attention to me. Plus I have probably close to that many bots blocked...)

12. Do I get asks: Occasionally. I have a few dedicated friends on here that send me stuff every so often. (You guys know who you are, and you’re the best!)

13. Amount of sleep: Either 5-6 or 10-12. Drought or flood.

14. Favorite number(s):3, 7, 9, 343

15. Wearing: BOSS “Analog Distortion” DS-1 shirt (yeah I know I’m enough of a need that I wear shirts with guitar pedals on them, I’m lame like that), black Goodfellow jeans (which are INSANELY comfortable, and I’m not usually a jeans person, FTR), ace ring and Triaxial pendant.

16. Dream job: full-time creative person. Music production probably specifically, but author or podcaster would also be really neat. Technically working on all three at the moment.

17. Instrument: I “play” varying synthesizers (my synths of choice are the Korg Monologue and the Novation Circuit Mono Station, but the Teenage Engineering PO-20 is also quite fun to mess with). I am in the process of attempting to learn to play mandolin and electric bass.

I also dabble with playing keyboard every so often, but so far my skill on that is mostly “hey look guys I can use this to figure out chords! :D” and “look, guys, I can play Vulfpeck’s Hero Town and the intro to Dire Dire Docks! :D”

I can also “play” my Seagull Totally-Not-A-Dulcimer/Guitar-Hybrid, but that’s doesn’t take talent because you literally can’t play a wrong note on that thing.

18. Language: English. I am monolingual because I didn’t get any decent linguistic education during my younger days. (I do still wanna learn Gaelic at some point, and possibly Japanese so I can actually properly sing along to the varying FLOW songs I like)

19. Favorite song(s): My stated favorite changes from day to day (my current statement would probably be Cherub Rock by The Smashing Pumpkins), but the one song I always get drawn into whenever it shows up, ever, is Waiting For The End by Linkin Park. Something about that song speaks to my soul.

20. Random fact: I apprenticed under the recording and mixing engineer that did Aerosmith’s Pandora’s Box album for like...a week.

It was a very informative experience.

21. Aesthetic: Uuuuuuuh dark colors with bright highlights. Lots of handmade stuff, otherwise.

Like...I dunno. I guess you could say my aesthetic is, like, edgy hopepunk? Lots of me trying to be optimistic, but being deep and using dark colors and stuff based around that.

I dunno, I’m really bad at describing my aesthetic with words. It’s...just whatever it happens to be.

Tagging: Uuuuuuuh oh boy. Don’t think I’m gonna have 21 folks to tag for this...

@lilybugarini @grandduchessgemini @tumb1rprincess @spookyakamaru @flying-suitcase @parteehardy @thepreciousem and @charlezarrd are all I got for now.

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peeterparkr · 5 years ago

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perfidy;tom holland|8

chapter 8: the focus

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: y/n’s fears and tom’s thoughts.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, drama

word count: 6.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : Tweets & Instagram

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

Stay safe and here’s a doc where you can find out how to support BLM

How wonderful is it that life makes us coincide with people. How wonderful is it that two people with all of the odds of never seeing each other find each other. How amazing is it that two people can feel absolutely everything. How incredible is it that two people can fall in love?

How stupid was it that she had to make that person be Tom.

Y/N was currently debating to herself: did she really want to go there?

She stared at the blank document in front of her. She typed in some letters but there was something bothering her. She’d written a few pages already but this really wasn’t where she wanted to go with. She held her coffee in between her hands as she tried not to squint at the bright screen. She’d put on some big white t-shirt that was hanging around as some

shorts. She’d already taken a pill to help with the headache but there really wasn’t any pill that could soothe her morals. Or her heart for that matter.

And there was no pill that could calm down her thoughts. Because she had felt that spark in her eyes, that stupid smile and that gentle butterflying in her stomach. Sure, she could blame the alcohol but she really knew she couldn’t.

And it came back to that night, the yellow flowers.

She remembered how it felt. The heartbreak, the last one she’d experienced. How hard she’d fallen into that very dark place. How vocal she had been about it when being alone.

Having to pretend everything was okay because she was not supposed to be in love with him and how she was not supposed to care about him. How she had to swallow up her feelings but come home to tear herself apart.

How much her stomach hurt and how barely she could sleep. How she couldn’t talk. How she’d break down in random moments, in the shower, in the bus. and at school and pretend it was something else. Blame it on everything.

How disappointed she was. How nothing made sense. How she’d cry until she fell asleep, but she didn’t sleep at all. Waking up in the middle of the night to think about everything, to call herself a fool for even coming up with it. Losing her breath. How she would need to scream to her pillow. How somehow she’d lost a bit of herself with him.

How the days had turned grey, so grey and so long, nights seemed too short and if they ever came the moon would only get ever so brightly to wash her body to keep her awake. How she had cried so much she’d run out of tears.

How she’d changed her style. How she’d try to be more feminine. Or how she tried to comb her hair in a different way. Or her makeup. Change herself. How she had tried to change her personality. . How she couldn’t know why he couldn’t love her. What was wrong? her perfume? The lipstick? Was it her music taste?

What was wrong with her? Why did he hate her that much?

The thought would remain on her head for hours and hours. Days and nights. Weeks. Months. Years.

How she had isolated and found comfort in movies, and scenes and brightened up her day. But they didn’t make any sense, at all. Nothing did. Not even her favorite song or her favorite movie.

How nothing would make her smile. And how she’d listen to sad songs to make herself sadder and how she had to deal seeing him parade around and keep mocking her. How she had to keep on an act. Keep ok with a life when she had been so broken-hearted. How she had given so much and it hadn’t been enough.

How hard it had been because everything simply would bring it back. Like a random song on the radio, a movie scene or a book. And how hard it was seeing him everywhere, and how she had had to block his name from coming up. How she had to distance herself from his family, his friends. Her friends and her family.

How no one knew. And no one could know. What did she win by saying a man had screwed her over? What would she win by saying that man had been Tom?

She’d cried for a complete month, even more. Her tears had dried out. Not knowing if she was crying out of pain because he’d hurt her or she was crying out of self pity, because what a fool had she been.

Because she knew, she had warned herself. That he was a rock. That Tom would never love her, that he hated her. She was well aware that he had a stone cold soul, that his heart was not reachable. Not for her, at least.

She knew he was poison, she knew he was the devil in disguise, that he was no angel. That he’d break her.

And yet, she’d fallen in love with him. But that’s what she got for ignoring her own advice. She remembered the day she’d promised herself she would stop trying.

All because of yellow flowers.

She stared at the script she started and she thought about it: she couldn’t go through another heartbreak caused by Tom. She couldn’t go again through it, she couldn’t cry mid workouts, and she couldn’t shut her thoughts. How dumb she had felt, and how much it simply hurt. She needed to have her heart locked up, she couldn’t let herself feel anything.

And she didn’t. She really didn’t. She didn’t want to be hurt again. Because the last time he broke her heart, he broke her completely.

Maybe he didn’t know about it. No one did, really. Each heartbreak had been different. With Tom, there was a constant. She had to be quiet about her pain. Even when she wanted to scream and yell, she couldn’t let him know he’d won. No one could know that she was crying over him. No one could know about her frustration.

It made her nauseous thinking about it. She couldn’t go back to that place. But she needed him to go through it.

But even after the darkest storm, the sun comes out. She’d met Timmy. And he had saved her from drowning. Even after the drought. Even if it had been a crime.

Because Timmy showed her that she could be loved for being herself. Because Timmy loved every aspect that made her. From the way she liked to let the tears dry on their own or how she always had post-it’s hanging around for her notes. Because Timmy loved that y/n liked to watch the vinyl roll as it played, and because Timmy loved the way she’d run out of breath whenever she laughed.

With Timmy, she’d stare at windows and enjoy walks in the rain. It was calm. And she was breathing again. even underwater She didn’t have to worry about her makeup, or anything. Timmy had shown her how to love herself. Maybe that’s why he was still hanging on the Polaroids. Because he had learned to love her when she was down and he managed to pull her up.

Not that Tom had ever told her anything about herself but y/n with her complicated mind, only could wonder why he hated her. Why did the person she’d loved the most hated her so ardently? Why couldn’t he love her? Why wasn’t she enough?

Timmy had taught her something, loving is simple. Timmy had taught her she was enough.

She was more frustrated this time, not only would she get hurt if he didn’t fall in love with her but she’d have no script. Still, she was writing,

Eventually, he finally walked into the kitchen bare chested, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder, her neck and finally ended on her cheek. She’d been quick to close the document and then stared at him, and expected him to throw in something that would break her again. Hadn’t she met Timmy she’d probably already be crying. But maybe she’d built up a shield so high that she wouldn’t be bothered by him anymore. Even if she felt the pain on her chest.

“Morning,” he sheepishly said as he continued to pepper her neck with kisses.

“I made you coffee,” she whispered as she closed her MacBook.

“Sh, you’re being too loud,” he nuzzled into her neck. “I’m never drinking wine again.”

She chuckled. “Here ,” she pushed a box of aspirins towards him. “I wasn’t going to give you anything, thought it’d be a good way to attack my enemy. But I guess, having some pity is a benefit we should have.”

He grabbed the pill and then chuckled as he searched for his water, he downed two glasses before he took the pill.

“Your fans have made their way to my Instagram, by the way, haven't checked any of the notifications and I really don’t want to,” she admitted.

“Sorry.”

She didn’t say anything. She waited for him to speak, to destroy her and somehow make her insecure again. Even if the glance he was giving her could make anyone believe he liked her, she was just waiting to be stabbed.

“You have a lot of Polaroids,” he commented.

“Not all of them are actually Polaroids but I edited some and printed them out, they’re important,” she mentioned.

He raised his brows. “What is the importance of them?” As he sipped from the bitter coffee.

“Moments, memories, things that made me who I am,” she shrugged.

“And Timmy made you who you are today?” He chuckled.

She watched him. “In many ways, yes.”

He scrunched his nose. “So you’re not taking them off?”

“Why would I?” She questioned as she reached over to the cookies she’d baked the day before, pulling the plate towards her.

“You broke up,” Tom pushed. “You should hate him.”

“I don’t hate him, besides even if I did. Wouldn’t take him off. I hate you and you’re up there.”

“You have the worst pictures of me,” he pointed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “But you’re up there... even if I don’t like to admit it, Tom, you’re a very important part of my life.”

“Am I?”

She looked at him. “I grew up with you. Yes.”

“What would make you take a picture off?”

“I’ve taken some off for some time,”she admitted. “But it meant that I really, really didn’t want to see their face.”

“What’s your favorite picture there?”he grinned.

She smiled to herself. “I’ll show you,” she said as she headed back to her room. He followed her with curiosity. She looked up for the picture, one of Tim’s, the one with the raincoat as he’s looking up in the rain.

He rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“What?” She frowned.

“Why this one with Tim. I see all these pictures and some of them, I know you were the happiest.”

“It’s the moment I knew I was truly, madly deeply in love with him,” she explained as she sat down on her bed again. The moment she was finally breathing again.

“The moment you knew? Look, I… I think love is something gradual, there’s not a moment that you wake up one day and realize you’re in love.”

“No, but there is a moment you realize it,” she pointed out.

He frowned, sitting beside her. “When you realize it?”

“Yes, it’s like that climax point in a movie, it was that one with Tim,” she stared at the picture. The way he was smiling, the way the rain covered him down.

Tom leaned over to see it. “Really?”

“You know those scenes in movies when everything just… makes sense as they’re perfect?” She smiled. “How even though there is probably a lot going on, the lights are hitting the main character perfectly, the focus is only on them, and how the music is subtly playing just building up the emotion, and how their own feelings fade in, maybe a close up, and you know it as everything falls into place.”

He frowned comprehensively. “Right.”

“Well, that day…. I felt it, I saw it, and he was that focus and I knew it. I was so in love with him.”

“When was this?”

“It was autumn.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” you wanted.

“No, I won’t, sorry. It’s cause I hardly believe you could feel something as inspiring… with Timothée,” he pronounced his name with such venom.

She ignored him. “We had been walking around, it was a date and I remember holding his arm, it was cold and it was raining just slightly, but we would go to this tea house…”

“Did you get pneumonia?”

She rolled her eyes. “and we were heading to this library first but it started to rain harder but...everything fell into place, we tried to run for a place to cover ourselves but then… something magical happened as if it was straight out of a movie,” she grinned. “a guy opened his balcony window and started to play the cello… You know that Bach song everyone knows?” She grinned.

Tom blinked.

“And I found cover under a perfume shop’s shade and I called for him but he was… too entranced by it, I remember he looked up to the guy in his balcony and he just smiled…and he called me out to go in the rain with him, and I had to take a picture because the look in his eyes and… the way he was the main character…I just knew it then. I was so in love with him.”

And even if she wasn’t raining, she had finally found a way out to breath.

Tom cleared his throat. “You’re too poetic sometimes.”

“Well haven’t you ever felt it? I know you’ve been in love,” she pointed out.

“Yes but it’s never worked out,” he clenched his jaw. “And it didn’t work out for you either.”

“A break up doesn’t necessarily mean it didn’t work out,” she debated.

“Well mine didn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t… I… look, that conversation is definitely not included in our benefits,” he scowled as he stood up searching for his phone.

“Sorry I thought since I told you—“

“You thought wrong,” he grunted.

She closed her eyes. “Of course.”

The doorbell rang just in time to make this less awkward, she left her room as he plopped down back on the bed to stare at his phone.

There needed to be a way to know what had him falling in love, of course that would take a while. Maybe a little more wine, get him all turned on again and he’d be spilling it all.

But she walked to the door, it ran again, triggering her headache.

“Coming!”

She slightly opened the door to see who was there, and little did she expect… him. She almost fainted as she saw his pretty face, with his curls falling down his green perfect eyes, as his hands held pastel colored flowers.

“Oh my god,” were the only words that had come out. “Tom—I mean… TIMMY!”

“Y/N!” He started but y/n closed the door. “Y/N?” He called out again.

And she remembered, they had agreed on having brunch together. She cursed under her her breath every possible bad word she knew.

She opened the door again to see a confused Timothée.

He frowned, “y/n.”

Then she cleared her throat. “Give me a sec—“

“Y/N—“

But she’d closed the door again and rushed to pick up any trace of last night, then she ran to her room to see a half naked Tom with his cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone. She threw his clothes at him.

“Hey!” He complained.

“Shut up!”

“Who was it—“

“Sh!” She jumped slightly in frustration. “It’s Timmy.”

“Timmy.”

“Oh my god, he can’t know,” she chirped. “I—“

“What is he doing here?”

“I’m having brunch with him and then we’d go together to Harry’s…”

“He’s coming?” Tom frowned.

“Emma invited him,” she was so nervous.”but oh my god he can’t know about this so you’re going to stay quiet and hide.”

“C’mon y/n—“he laughed, “why can’t he know?”

“You want me to tell your brothers and friends too?”

“No—“

“Then?”

“Fine, I’ll stay here. I’ll be quiet.” He frowned. “But why are you going out with him?”

“It’s—my business, and I don’t think asking those kind of questions are included in our… benefits,” she searched in for some clothes, picking out a pretty dress. “now I’m gonna go let him in and I’m going to take a shower and I need you to—“

“Is that an invitation?” He asked with a smirk.

“No, you’re ugly,” she answered. “And I need you to stay here quietly.”

“C’mon babe,” he laughed.

She shot him a death glare and threw a pillow at him, “shut up!”

“What was that For?”

“Keep quiet.”

“Babe,” he grabbed her arm.

“Fellow associate,” she frowned as she watched him.

He only pulled her over to kiss her. She didn’t kiss him back.

He blinked as he pulled away. “Hey.”

“Keep quiet.”

He rolled his eyes, watching her leave the room, closing the door.

He then heard her: “Timmy! Hi, sorry I’m… you can come in, sorry, I uh… I’ll be quick alright?”

“Yeah, of course—Uh, These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful, Tim, thank you… now uh, I… you can hang around here in the kitchen if you want to—I’ll just take a shower“

“Yeah,’course—“

Tom rolled his eyes, as he mimicked Timmy. He was fumed. Disgusted.

Tom could hear the water running now from the shower. Y/n’s apartment was very small, that made it cute but it was very small that there was no wonder why she had asked him to stay quiet.

“So, y/n.” Tom heard Timmy say. “Busy night?”

Tom smirked to himself.

“Hm?” Y/N answered. “Not really! Very calm actually!”

Tom frowned.

”really?” Timmy pushed. “I saw Tom was here.”

Tom frowned. How did he know?

“How did you—Yeah he came for dinner, nothing special we went over his schedule.”

“With wine?” Timmy asked.

“You really think I would stand him without it?” Y/N yelled back with a laugh. “But he was long gone.”

“And then you got drunk by yourself—“

“I—what?” Y/N asked.

Tim laughed, “you posted a… very nice picture.”

“I—what?”

Tom frowned as he went straight to Instagram. And he saw it, the picture he had very well snapped of y/n. She posted it. Of course Tom was nowhere in sight but if people connected the dots… of course people would think stuff. Thankfully, Tom knew, Harry probably was at Emma’s, and he hadn’t noticed that Tom hadn’t slept home. But Harrison.

He’d have to deal with Harrison.

“Aaaah,” y/n said. “What did I post? I actually did get very drunk by myself…”

Tim didn’t answer.

Tom cursed under his breath. He had to leave now, because he didn’t really need to give an explanation to Harrison. Haz probably already was up. Did Harrison know he was not home yet?

Tom even stopped listening to the awkward banter between y/n and Tim. He didn't care anymore. He had his own reasons to freak out. And y/n and Timmy started a very dumb conversation. Even if it wasn’t, Tom was annoyed by Timothee.

Even if the guy had done nothing wrong. But Tom did have his reasons to hate him. Being bloody perfect for y/n was the biggest reason, of course. And that y/n was so smitten with him. If y/n ever looked at him the way she stared at Timothee, and if she listened the way she listened to Tim, Tom would never ever be able to say he hated her.

Tom didn’t even realize when y/n had walked into the room, also freaking out about the picture.

“We need some damage control,” that’s all she said before handing him the keys to her apartment so he’d close it up.

Before Tom knew it he was quietly walking into his place, with his t-shirt stained with wine, and probably stained with the infamous walk of shame. Tom was praying to himself that he wouldn’t see Harrison. And he thanked everything in existence that Harry had stayed at Emma’s and that the party would be at her place so there was no reason as to why Harry would know.

Tom quietly tiptoed his way in but little did he know he was expected.

“Good morning!” Harrison greeted him.

“I—went to my—car.”

“Are you gonna tell me you went to your car which clearly wasn’t here all night? And probably was at y/n’s just like you were.”

“No-uh.”

“Amazing walk of shame you’ve got going on there,” Harrison sassed. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or are you gonna invent something like y/n did last time and claimed she watched porn? Did you watch porn at her place now?” Haz smirked as he took a sip of the tea he had in his hand.

Tom was screwed. He couldn’t lie to his best friend.

“I—“

“Nice t-shirt, is it designer?” Haz chuckled. “Is it by the same designer of y/n’s glass of wine in her last picture?”

“It’s nothing—“

“Is it really nothing?” Haz laughed. “Just like the fact that when I was on set I might have seen you sneak a kiss on her cheek?,” Haz smirked. “I didn’t mention it but I might as well do it right now before you come up with any stupid excuses.”

“I—“

“We ain’t got all day, Tom,”Haz insisted.

Tom squinted. “It’s nothing—“

“Nothing?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Sit down, Thomas. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Tom had to sit down and deal with the pounding headache he was facing not only because of the alcohol he had had last night but now because he really had no excuse to give to Harrison.

“So?” Haz crossed his arms.

“I… well.”

“You slept with her, we both know that,” Haz sassed.

“I…. did.” Tom cleared his throat.

Haz expected him to elaborate.

“Twice,” Tom continued. “Yeah, once when… a few weeks ago, and… well last night.”

“How did it—“

“The first time?” Tom gulped. “I may have… hinted at it, I think it just… led to it. We made out in the car and we’d been flirting all night. And… we have… we have been having this whole game I dunno, when we were teasing each other, and I don’t know… we made out a few more times but… last night, we were talking about everything, we had had dinner, we had laughed, and then I just kissed her and it escalated and—I dunno it just happened.”

“Just happened.”

“And… well, I don’t know, we agreed on being enemies with benefits.”

“What even is that?”

“Means that we can continue hating each other but we get to fuck I guess,” Tom looked away. “Sounds stupid don’t even know why I accepted it.”

Haz raised his brows. “Well… why did you?”

“I just did.” Tom gulped.

Harrison frowned. “Your brother was bloody in love with her and you hate her,” he said condescendingly. “Tom this is—“

“What if I don’t?”

“You don’t—what?”

Tom stood up. “I’m very bloody aware he was in love with her but he’s with Emma now. And I’m spending time with y/n… and we are both single and so far the sex has been great.”

“I guess it’s not a crime Tom, but this is insane…You hate her.”

“I don’t alright?” Tom admitted, he was sweating. “I’ve been bloody in love with her my whole fucking life and now I… Harry moved on.”

Harrison watched him. “Well that’s… such a turn of events.”

“Yes I loved her okay? Is it that big of a crime?” Tom scoffed. “And I—I also do hate her because I wasn’t supposed to love her alright?” Tom rubbed his face. “I never wanted to hurt Harry and okay, had she been in love with Harry instead of me…”

“She loved you at some point, didn’t she?”

“When we were younger, just a crush,” Tom continued, well aware that y/n had told him only last night that he had been her first love. “But I hated her because I…”

“You hate her and you’re in love with her.”

“I hate her because I shouldn’t be in love with her, not when my brother loves her too and he deserves her, and she deserves someone like him. Someone who treated her right, who didn’t bother her to get her attention.”

Harrison watched him, curiously. He was slightly shocked but not really. “I’m… this isn’t.”

“And look, maybe it’s stupid but Harry moved on and now she’s not dating that stupid Timothee—and I thought hey this might be my chance, but the only problem is still Timothée, that dumb man.”

“You don’t have to come for Tim-“

“But look, she’s not over him, she literally woke up, and left to have breakfast with him—“

Haz watched him. “You’ve literally treated her so badly her entire life—“

“I know, I've been an asshole my whole life, I guess I tried to make her fall in love with Harry instead,” Tom sighed. “Look, I know she’ll never be able to—I noticed it, she doesn’t look at me the way she—God, just this morning when she saw a picture of Timothée, her eyes lit up, he’s her bloody everything.”

Harrison watched him. “But you’re in love with her.”

“Yes and I know I can’t—I know I can’t have her because I have fucked up so many times and if I did do anything, Harry would be devastated even if he’s over her…” I can at least have this, this whole enemies with benefits bullshit.”

Harrison watched him. “And would you try anything else?”

Tom sighed, “maybe,” he coughed. “But it’s—when I’ve kissed her, she—I know she doesn't feel anything.”

“Do you? Have you shown her?”

“I don’t know how, and this—this has only been full of lust and I know… this doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to feel like alright? It feels like we are in a place where we only want to hurt each other.”

“Hurt each other? Don’t you love her?”

“It’s a matter of habit, I guess…” Tom gulped. “Old habits that didn’t wear out. It’s in my nature I guess.”

His friend stayed quiet, trying to process the information he was just given.

“Well change,” Haz said. “If you love her—“

“I won’t. I’m okay with this,” Tom lied. He cleared his throat. “But look Harry can’t know because even if he doesn’t know I love her he’ll think I’m just using her and if he knew I loved her he’d encourage me to try something and in any way that’ll break his heart…”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell anyone,” Haz sighed. “But Tom you’re just playing with something that—I don’t know man, maybe try something?”

“Why?”

“Harry wouldn’t mind if he knew you dated her, he’d mind if he knew you were doing this,” Haz pushed.

“But she won’t—give in,” Tom sighed. “I know.” Tom paused. “I know but… maybe I’ll just… I’m just scared that all my life I’ve told her that she’s always found a way to make every wrong decision and I know I’m just another one, alright? I’m another mistake she’s making.”

Harrison raised a brow.

“Gee, I’ve been talking too much with her. I'll be getting all poetic like her but—I know that Timmy or Harry would be right for her but I really don’t want her to see that. I want her to choose the wrong option. I am the wrong option here.”

Harrison watched her. “I don’t know man, just be careful because you might end up hurting several people in here… now go get dressed and presentable, we need to head to Harry’s party.”

Somehow telling Harrison had not soothed any of his thoughts. Because Tom knew this was a wrong turn and that anything that would lean on from this. He was incredibly confused.

Tom knew that he’d hurt y/n in very many ways, sometimes he’d meant it, some others, mostly he hadn’t. But we can understand that love is so complicated. He had never seen her cry in front of him, not really. Sure he knew that she was hurt but she always looked back like saying; you'll get my revenge. Maybe she had been incredibly good at hiding it or maybe she’d never been hurt at all.

Just as they continued to grow up y/n would show less and less importance to Tom. Even this morning when she’d refused to kiss him back, as if saying you’re not going to win this one.

And Tom wanted to prove her wrong. He wanted to show her how a real kiss should taste like, and he wanted her to choose a different path. Because he saw y/n had always been struggling while climbing up the same tree. The same songs. Stuck in a place where she wouldn’t get out of.

But that made her. All the small details. when you’ve been in love with someone you notice the little details that make a person.

Maybe Tom wanted to show her a different part. And maybe he had just by last night having genuine fun with her. Not meaning about sex of course, but everything else.

The way he had heard her run out of breath from laughter or the way she had offered him a spoonful of the cookie dough. So simple. So real.

Love is strange. Because what Tom hadn’t told Harrison was that Tom was also waiting to be stabbed. He was also waiting y/n to betray him. And y/n could hurt him more, because she had also been so good at hurting him.

Because y/n had hurt him too. Not in the ways one would expect it. But also in the same way that he couldn’t really look at yellow flowers anymore. Because he’d regretted it and she had shut him out. And… he couldn’t be thinking about that.

Not when she was standing right in front of him, with her hair flowing as she laughed so melodically. The light was hitting her just in the spot. Everyone in the party was moving but she was the only focus. Her floral dress matched her pink lipsticks. Pink lips. Everything around her had stopped. She was the only spotlight needed, even if Timothee, Emma and Harry were laughing with her. They went silent to Tom

They were laughing at the cookies y/n had made, with the flower petals she’d put on. The aesthetic had been more important.

And Tom had to look away because he was staring too long. And he’d been transported back to a few months ago, when Tim and Y/N were still a thing. And just seeing them made Tom realize that they probably still were. Not dating but this…

It hurt. It hurt knowing he wasn’t the right choice. Yet… y/n looked up just once and gave him that stare. The kind where she basically undressed him with a glance.

He wondered how she was feeling because she had been, even if she was laughing, she had been extremely weird.

Though Tom had only had one same thought the whole day. He needed to buy a Polaroid. But that was the least he should care about. Because his brother had ignored him, all day long.

And y/n had arrived with Timothée, and she had been laughing all this time. And Tim had given him a weird look, but Timothee had been so cocky this evening as if he knew a secret that Tom didn’t.

But y/n and Tom were normal, mocking each other, rolling their eyes at each other and acting like usual. Nothing to suspect there. But y/n had kept on a little game, if she ever walked behind Tom she’d brush a hand on his lower back, or the way she’d sometimes stop and look at him, biting her lip slightly.

She was driving him crazy.

Sam had asked Tom about y/n’s night, and Haz had stepped in.

“Yeah, y/n must have been so tired of Tom that she probably had to black out to forget them, Tom came home pretty early.”

And everyone was around Harry and Emma couldn’t take her eyes off of him. They would miss him.

But Harry had been quiet. Harry hadn’t looked at Tom. He had talked to anyone else but Tom. Was he angry?

Tom walked over to Harry, Emma, and Tuwaine.

Tim, Haz and Y/N were talking to some other friends of them.

“I thought they had broken up,” Tom commented with poison as he eyed them.

“They’re still friends,” Emma commented, “and if we are honest they’re gonna get back together any time soon.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Tom insisted.

“You wouldn’t?” Harry wondered. “Did she say that at your dinner last night?”

Tuwaine laughed. “I’m impressed you guys haven’t killed each other by now.”

Emma laughed, “I don’t know how y/n is dealing with it, my girl, she is so strong, having her ex and her worst enemy in the same room…”

Tuwaine scrunched his nose. “Poor y/n.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes.”

“But they…” Tuwaine watched them. “They seem like they’re alright.”

“I don’t really understand why they broke up. They’re so perfect together,” Harry agreed, watching them.

Emma shrugged. “Dunno, and besides this whole best friends dating each other best friends was amazing.”

Tom coughed. “Right.”

“But no, I’m sad to tell you,”Harry chuckled. “I know y/n, and she’s…”Harry gulped. “Let’s say they’re not at the same place you and I are,” Harry grinned as he kissed Emma. “God, I love you.”

Tuwaine and Tom gave each other a glance and decided to walk away. They truly didn’t want to be in their way.

Tom wondered if Harry was so in love with Emma why had it bothered him that he had had dinner with y/n? What bothered him? Emma was so in love with him. And Harry was so in love with her. Emma was like… anything Harry had wished for.

But the party continued.

And Tom and Tuwaine ended up talking about the movie, about Tuwaines life and about everything that was going on.

But Tom kept looking at how Timothee hadn’t left y/n’s side.

“It’s not me, right? Tim is extremely annoying,” Tom pointed out.

Tuwaine laughed. “What? The guy’s a sweetheart.”

“He’s not, he’s boring, and—“Tom rolled his eyes as he saw everyone laughing exactly at something Timothee had said. “And he's really not handsome.”

Tuwaine frowned. “I dunno about that, I just know he’s too… what was the word y/n used? Dreamy.”

“He wouldn’t appear in dreams, he’s a nightmare,” Tom scoffed. “What did he see in him?”

“I don’t know,” Tuwaine chuckled. “I—why are you asking me this?”

Harrison approached them. “What are we talking about?”

“Why Tim is so dreamy,” Tuwaine laughed. “Look at his eyes,” Tuwaine chanted laughing.

Haz glanced behind him and then raised his brows at Tom. “Really?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Probably because he treated her like he was the only girl in the room and he looks at her so nicely and he hasn’t broken her heart multiple times and he’s not an asshole, and doesn’t constantly mock her,” Haz sassed.

“What?” Tuwaine laughed. “That sounds so specific.”

Haz laughed. “I know.”

Tom rolled his eyes as he turned to y/n again and she locked her sight with him and then slightly motioned away. She excused herself from her friends and headed to the restroom, Tom waited for a decent amount of time before heading after her.

He knocked on the door, “it’s me.”

Y/n opened it and before checking it was cleared she dragged him inside, locking the door.

“How’s that damage control going?” She asked him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “Hi.”

“Thomas, not the time,” she rolled her eyes, but her hands landed on his chest anyway. “What did you do with Haz?”

He scrunched his nose. “He didn’t notice,” he lied.

“Good, Tommy—I mean,” she blinked, “Timmy did ask but I told him a lie.”

“Don’t you ever dare confuse me with him again,” Tom threatened.

She smirked. “Or what?”

Tom pushed her up against the wall, “or else…” his lips connected with her neck. She instantly closed her eyes.

But someone knocked on the door and y/n instantly pushed him away.

“Uh… coming!” Tom said.

“What?” Y/n mouthed.

“Oh okay, sorry!” It was Harry. Tom and y/n panicked. “Hey Tom, did you see y/n?”

“No I didn't, why would I? I’m in the bathroom man, and I’m definitely not up for a conversation,” Tom snapped.

“Right, sorry, I’ll… should I call her?” Harry asked.

“No, no man…”

And y/n quickly pulled out her phone and silenced it before anything else could go wrong.

“I—Tom, actually can you come out already? I need to talk to you.”

“Man. I’m kind of… busy,” Tom said again. Tom licked his lips, as he then pointed to the shower.

“What?” Y/N mouthed again.

“Hide there,” Tom whispered.

Y/N frowned but got into the shower and hid behind the curtains.

Tom washed his hands and walked out to face his brother, closing the door.

“What?” Tom wondered.

“What happened last night?” Harry asked.

Tom cleared his throat. “I went to y/n’s place, had dinner, we discussed the schedule and that’s it.”

“Tom, don’t play with her,” Harry begged him.

“What?” Tom frowned.

Harry took a deep breath. “Look… I… we both know you guys have your relationship but I really don’t want you hurting her anymore, okay?”

“I’m not—doing anything.”

“Tom but you know how she used to feel about you,” Harry pushed. “I don’t want you messing her up anymore because okay, if you make her cry once again I’m not gonna be there and—“

“Harry, Harry, Harry, I genuinely am not going to do anything to hurt her, things have changed okay, we are… kind of friends.”

Harry sighed. “Fine—I am just worried okay?”

“Yes okay.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Well I’m—“he pointed to the bathroom.

“Aaa—-ahhh, hey good luck there Harry! Going into the bathroom! Good for you! What are you—what are you doing there?”

“Peeing, thanks for asking.” Harry scowled.

“GOOD LUCK IN THE RESTROOM WHILE YOU PEE!” Tom yelled again.

Harry frowned and punched Tom in the shoulder, but got there anyway.

Tom chuckled to himself, before taking out to text y/n, warning her.

But before he knew it y/n had come back to the living room and glared at him.

They gathered up to say their goodbyes, and good luck to Harry. It really wasn’t sentimental, maybe only coming from Sam and Tom, wishing their brother their best good and congratulating him. It was just people happily giving their advice and nice words.

“Thanks to everyone I—this is very nice coming from all of you,” Harry chuckled as he was looking at Emma. “Uh—well, tomorrow it’s completing a dream one and—I… but my dream wouldn’t be complete without Emma here, my love.”

Emma grinned as she stood up, taking Harry’s hand.

“Well we have another announcement,” Harry said nervously. “Well uh—“

“We’re engaged!” Emma announced showing her hand up as a big ring was adorning her hand.

“What?” Was the only word that was spreading around the room.

And suddenly the focus was only on that ring.

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