#i actually had to pause it from locking for 1 minute cause it cut me off mid thought djdjdjdjjd
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ok also you know how people say one of the ig things that happens the older they get is they stop giving a fuck? well i feel like that’s so true and that’s why the show needs to go back to casting more older people! like some of the most iconic and dramatic (in a good fun way) people have been older players and the show has been severely missing that energy when they cast all people in their 20s and like 1 in their early 30’s half who are trying to be influencers and half who are still learning how to be ok with not people pleasing you know?
#bb25#did that make sense?#i’m on a time crunch#cause my aps are gonna lock for the night in 2 minutes so that i actually go to bed#and i realized that half way through so idk if i stuck the landing hahaha#i actually had to pause it from locking for 1 minute cause it cut me off mid thought djdjdjdjjd#ok anyway guess i’m posting this and running see yall tomorrow when i get access back#haha
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gut-wrenching
part 2. —> part 1
summary: interrogation, love, addiction, anger, love, addiction, anger, love.
it’s a cycle.
warnings: drinking, abuse, a little bit of violence, fighting, jj is kind of a dick, being naked
pairing: jj maybank x kook!fem!reader
the day after the fight, you sat in your chair as you pressed worthless information into your brain in mr. sunn’s class.
“…i mean, why do we even take tests, y’know?” your boyfriend continued his debate with mr. sunn as he protested most aspects of school were pointless, and mr. sunn had debated that they indeed help with your education.
“because, mr. maybank, they ‘test’ the fact that you received good education. if you fail, you need to be further taught. i’m sure you’re familiar with that.” sunn quipped.
jj winced as the class laughed. “i just willingly don’t pay attention.”
“and you’ve got this far by doing that? i’m sure it’s only in my class, jj.”
he shrugged. “i’m just smart.”
a kid from the back of the class scoffed. “you’ve only never got held back before because you offer weed to anyone who threatens to hold you back.”
the class laughed again. sunn frowned. “probably.”
jj showed his teeth. “yeah, maybe.”
everyone laughed again.
mr. sunn paused before saying something back, but he didn’t respond to jj. in fact, he was talking to you. “y/n, do you want to join in on the debate or would you rather admire mr. maybank with twinkling eyes?”
you actually did not hear him. you indeed, were admiring mr. maybank with twinkling eyes. the class burst out into laughter once more, and jj turned to face you. you were then caught out of your daydream as your boy locked eyes with you.
he smiled. “hey, princess, he’s talking to you.”
you looked up, flustered and embarrassed. “sorry, what did you say?”
“it doesn’t matter anymore. i think you made up your mind,” sunn responded, turning to jj. “mrs. maybank over here would like to continue staring.”
you scoffed, shaking your head. jj smirked. “she got my permission.”
you gave him a side eye and then looked back to sunn, who now had a straight face. “also, mrs. ‘maybank’, i would love to see you after class.”
your heart dropped and you looked reluctantly to jj. he gave you a look that said ‘you’re fine. play cool.’ and so you did.
you nodded.
sunn smiled. “now, after that twenty minute long discussion, i can finally get back to my—”
but then the bell rang, cutting him off in mid sentence. jj laughed and everyone high fived him, thankful for his stalling.
“lesson. i was supposed to give you all homework, but thanks to jj, you’re good to go. everyone but you,” mr. sunn said and pointed to you.
you took a deep breath and slowly ascended the aisles, making your way to his desk.
once the room had left, mr sunn encouraged you to sit down.
“i’m sorry, am i in trouble?” you asked, the lingering question bursting through your lips.
“no, actually.” he looked to the right and saw a flick of blonde hair and groaned. “jj, leave your girlfriend and get to class!”
you heard a groan from outside of the classroom, causing you to smile. then you heard the late bell, which was followed by the word, “shit!” and a crash.
your attention was drawn back to your teacher when he continued. “so, i wanted to talk to you as a mandated reporter about the bruises on you.”
you bit your lip.
“i am obligated to ask if you’re being hurt at home. you can be honest with me. if you do, you will no longer have to go through that. i am a safe person to talk to, mrs. (y/l/n).”
you sighed and shook your head. “no. no, my parents are more than fine.”
“well then where did those bruises come from?”
you blew out some air. “some-something else.”
“something else?” he repeated. he clicked the pen in his hand.
“i don’t know if i can tell you,” you said, your breath hitching.
he sat back in his chair. “now that you said that, you have to. got no choice.”
you nodded, taking a few seconds to collect yourself.
“are you ready?”
“yeah,” you said, tears filling your eyes. “jj.”
“jj?” mr. sunn asked.
“oh—” you yelped, about to slap yourself. “no, no, not jj. i mean, it’s about jj. but jj didn’t do this.”
mr sunn looked at you, confused. “i… see?”
“one thing. before i continue, do you promise jj won’t know that i told you this?” you asked, a squeaky weakness in your voice.
mr sunn hesitated, but eventually nodded. “yea. yes, yes, jj will not know.”
“okay,” you said finally, leaning back in your chair. “jj and i were in the hot tub yesterday, and he was talking to me about how his father was angry with him and if i didn’t stay with him at his house he was going to hurt him. so i did what any sane person would do. when i got to his house, jj was about to be hit before i interrupted.
the rest of the night, his father did not touch him. he was out of place and scared, but jj had only been hurt 3 days prior by his dad. anyway, in the morning, i was going to make something for us to eat when his dad came in and was angry about something. but he basically jumped me. jj came in and saved me. i have a few other cuts around, but that’s basically it.”
mr sunn finished writing something down and bit his lip. “is this something jj has to go through a lot?”
you sighed, tears filling your eyes. you wished with everything you could that you could shake your head, but you had to be honest. you had to nod it.
mr sunn bit his lips and sighed. “you want to protect jj, right?”
you nodded.
“then have him stay at your house for a little while.”
you nodded.
*
jj unpacked his bags into your drawers, his breath shakily jumping from slow to fast.
“i don’t know about this, man,” he said nervously. “if dad finds out i’m here, i’m dead.”
“he won’t find out you’re here. chill your beans.” you said, flopping onto your bed.
“by the way, what did mr. sunn want?” jj asked. he flopped down next to you, pulling you onto his body.
you sighed, feeling content in his arms. “just…”
“just what?”
you nuzzled your nose into his neck. “can we just lay down for a little bit?”
he sighed but eventually nodded. “yea, yes, we can lay down.”
you hummed slightly, pulling the blanket over you. you made sure jj was comfortable before closing your eyes.
“well actually,” he said after five minutes, “what happened with mr. sunn?”
you pretended to sleep, but he just nudged you awake. you groaned. “he just asked about my parents. that’s all. you know how close he is with them.”
jj sighed. he bought it.
you hummed happily, slipping off to sleep.
* you woke up hours later, expecting to feel happy in his arms, but instead, jj was not there.
you felt around for him as if he left a limb behind, but he had not. you cried a longing cry and slid out of bed.
“j?” you called, opening your bedroom door. your mother was passing by with laundry and she stopped in her tracks.
“you lose him?” she asked, looking around.
“he was just with me and then i fell asleep and now he’s gone,” you groaned.
she continued walking, making a noisy and echoey way to her room. “he’ll turn up, dear.”
you groaned and continued your search. after ten minutes, you found out he was not at the house. you turned on your car engine and started for his house.
once you heard a familiar crash, you raced out of the car. it was the same crash the glass of beer had made when you hit luke with it.
“hold on j!” you screamed as you ran into the house.
but when you got in jj was alone. luke was not there. one after another, jj was chugging beers and then throwing them against the wall.
“jj!” you yelped. you ran up to him. “jj, stop!”
he looked at you with hooded eyes and continued drinking.
“stop it!” you cried, grabbing the bottle from him. he swallowed and shook his head, grabbing another bottle from the case.
“what is going on, jj?” you cried, fighting him to take the other bottle. he refused, shoving the beer down his throat and throwing it against the wall.
there were chunks of glass laying there on the floor, and to your horror, you realized jj was barefoot. you shoved him away from the glass and put his shoes on his feet.
“man, this place is all mine!” he chuckled, swaying in a drunk way.
“jj maybank!” you yelled, ripping the whole case of beer from him. “you stop it right now.”
he groaned, reaching for the beer like a child. “sto-stop it! i was drinking that.”
you shook your head. “you shouldn’t be.”
you opened the door and threw it outside. “can we go and sit down?”
“i don’t wanna-i don’t-i don’t wanna sit down,” jj slurred, grabbing your shoulders.
“okay,” you whispered to yourself. you grabbed jj’s hand and pulled him to his room. you shoved him down on the bed and forced him to sit. you sat next to him.
“what happened?” you asked, going to grab his hand. jj brought his hand up to his mouth and kept it there. you sighed and brought your hand up, too, but before you could grab his he bit your finger. “jj!”
“goodnight,” he whispered, laying down on his bed. within a few seconds, he was snoring away.
you sighed, realizing he would probably be sober by the time he was awake. but when jj was drunk, he slept like a baby.
so you took it upon myself to go to the store and grocery shop for him. you made sure to get ingredients for soup to make him feel better.
when you were finished making the soup, (at the perfect time), jj woke up. you put the soup out on the table and waited for him to come out into the kitchen, but instead that took five minutes before you called his name.
“jj?”
you heard footsteps. stomps, actually.
he looked furious. he kicked a chair and threw a glass that was beside him.
“jj?” you said softly, walking over to him. he pushed you off and stormed past you. “jj, are you sober?”
“hell yeah, i’m sober!” he snapped, throwing some other random things.
“jj,” you yelped, coming up to him and trying to stop his arms. “jj, jj—stop it! what happened? sit down and drink your soup.”
he looked at you furiously but picked up his chair and sat at the table. he stared at it. “what is this?”
you almost laughed. “j, it’s soup. hangover soup. you downed like 12 bottles of beer earlier.”
he stared at the bowl, wanting to spill it onto the floor and storm out of the house, but he couldn’t ignore his pounding head. he looked at you and licked his lips, starting to eat the soup quickly. he frowned. “why are you here? i want you to leave. right now.”
you gaped at him as he finished the bowl immediately. “why, baby?”
“ ‘why?’ aren’t you aware of what you did?” he mumbled, throwing the bowl off to the side. you quickly went and picked it up, placing it back in front of him.
“you’re acting like a child,” you muttered, frowning at him. “and i don’t know. what did i do?”
he gave you a dirty look and rolled his eyes. “i mean, look around! do you see my father anywhere?”
“n—no?”
“exactly. you got him arrested, y/n. what’s wrong with you?” he cried, tears filling his eyes.
you grabbed jj’s hand. “how do you know that?”
he pulled it away, standing. “the cops told me everything. you ratted me out to mr. sunn, didn’t you?”
you sighed. “j, baby, i had no choice. i needed to protect you, and that was the best way to do so. don’t you get tired of being hurt all of the time?”
“sure, maybe,” he said, stepping close to you. “but that’s also my old man. he just parents me differently. and quite frankly, i deserve it. but even with it all happening, he’s always been a dad to me. a great dad.”
you felt your heart shatter. “jj. you do not deserve that. and he was not a good dad.”
“of course you don’t get it,” he said and he grabbed your shoulders tightly. “you don’t get it, ‘cause you’re a pretty little kook princess who gets anything she wants. her dad is perfect. heaven forbid any other dad try his best. he has to go above and beyond and be perfect. like your dad, right? i’ll tell you what, y/n, you are nothing but a greedy kook.”
you blinked, a tear slipping down your face. you slid out of his grip and turned around, leaving the house without a word.
you drove to the chateau and started downing your own beers, using the same technique jj had chug, toss. chug, toss.
and it was probably wrong. you knew no one would be there to make you hangover soup or force you to sleep, but at least it made you numb.
you wanted to go for a swim in the hot tub, but there were no bathing suits or anything at the chateau for you. you sighed, now drunk and stripping off your clothes.
now you were naked, taking the cover off of the tub and sliding in. your thought process was simple—fuck it.
nobody came around the chateau besides it’s residents, but they were people you could trust. sure, soberly, you wouldn’t ever in a million years do this, but you were drunk and upset.
turning on the jets, you calmly leaned your head back into the water, feeling content.
* you were drowning. the hot water was filing your lungs and there was no room to breathe. you gripped for everything you could, even if it was just water.
and soon, you were dead.
you opened your eyes. your head was pounding and your heart was racing from the dream. you were in your bed. you remembered what happened, and felt relieved that you hadn’t even went into the hot tub naked. you hadn’t went in the hot tub at all!
except for the fact your hair was soaked.
you went into the hot tub naked.
you winced, thinking of how embarrassing it was. well, at least nobody would have to know.
but wait— how did you get home?
you looked down at yourself, covered in baggy sweatpants and a huge t shirt that you had seen before.
you rolled over, looking around the room. you prayed it was no one you would be embarrassed about them seeing you naked.
you wished jj wasn’t mad at you. then it would have been him. he didn’t care if you were naked. so someone else was there and probably disgusted.
you heard footsteps and you sat up, immediately regretting it. your head was killing you.
“princess,” you heard, and your head shot up like a bullet. jj gave you a tray with some soup on it and you turned over. it’s just a dream. jj’s mad at me, you thought.
“j, please let me wake up. i know i’ve thought about you a lot but i need to figure out where i am.”
he giggled, sitting on the bed. “it’s me. this ain’t a dream, princess. i’m sorry.”
you gaped at him, brows furrowing. you slapped him across the face and turned back to your front, eating your soup.
“okay,” he said. “i deserved that, yeah. yeah, i did. but you didn’t deserve what i said. you’re not a greedy kook.”
“whatever j,” you muttered. “sorry i got your dad fired.”
“nah, fuck him,” he said, taking a sip of the coffee he had brought you. “thanks.”
you gave him a look and slurped your soup. “what do you want?”
“i missed you,” he said and grabbed the tray and put it on your bedside table. he cuddled into bed and pulled you on top of him. out of habit, you put your nose in his neck. he sighed happily, kissing your head.
“about the hot tub thing,” he said. “wasn’t too happy about that. rafe cameron had been walking by before i got there. he definitely saw you.”
your heart dropped. “oh.”
you felt embarrassed. jj rubbed your back. “i definitely rubbed off on you a bit, huh?”
“what do you mean?”
“you did the chug, toss method. great, right?” jj chuckled.
you shook your head. “i’m ashamed of myself. i’ve never done something like that. and i’m also ashamed of you. i told you to stop and you didn’t.”
“oh well, i’m not perfect.”
you rolled over, so jj resorted to spooning. you shoved him off of you.
“are you still mad at me, baby?” he asked.
“just give me time.” you said.
* a/n: kinda boring but yeahhh lol
part 3 here
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Right okay so I yelled about it a couple days ago but here’s some actual semi-coherent thoughts about AFC Richmond’s roster, positions, formations, etc.
I just want to say off the jump that the show is definitely playing fast and loose with the actual football, which makes sense cause it’s at the heart of the show but it’s definitely not the point of it. A lot of this info is cobbled together from background details like the whiteboards, lockers for certain names and numbers, and me just pausing and squinting at whoever seems to actually be on the field. A lot of this is open to interpretation, and I’m sure others will interpret differently
Having said all that, let’s get into it. Rest of the post is under the cut cause this will not be concise.
Let’s start with our roster. This includes every name I’ve caught from both seasons, hence why Roy and Jan Maas are both listed. 18 and 23 have also had multiple names with those numbers.
For roster purposes, pro teams list players as goalkeepers, defenders, midfielders, and forwards. I’ll do the same and add a fifth category I’m calling IDFK cause I haven’t been able to match a position to some of the background guys.
So here’s our starting point. I would expect the IDFK guys to be fairly evenly split among the positions (most rosters have about 4 GKs because the position is both crucial and dangerous, f in the chat for O’Brien’s butt).
You’ll notice that a lot of our prominent players are mids. This doesn’t really mean anything. I just think it’s neat. I’ll get into centre mids vs wings in a second, but for the most part those guys (Colin, Sam, Richard, Moe, Roy) are Richmond’s starting line in the midfield.
Now then. Let’s look at an actual formation. We’ll start with the first one I could find, which is 1x07’s formation.
The names being cut off are Canterbury next to Isaac, C. Hughes on left wing next to Rosenfeldt, and S. Obisanya perfectly hidden by Beard’s arm.
When describing a formation, you list it from defense to forward and don’t include the keeper cause they’re a given. Therefore, this formation is known as a 4-5-1. Alternatively, you can read the midfield a little differently to differentiate that Roy’s the lone defensive mid, and call this a 4-1-4-1. There’s nothing too out-there about this formation. Watford FC’s run a variation of it in the Premier League this season (scroll down a bit and hit the line-ups tab). You’ll see a formation like this at all levels, from kids to national teams, though it has fallen out of fashion in recent years.
This just a solid, balanced formation. The point of a formation like this is to control the midfield and cut off the other team’s passing lines, to make it harder for them to move the ball up to their strikers. Four defenders for a solid back line, with two centre backs to lock down the area in front of your box and cover for each other while supporting their fullbacks on the outside. One defensive mid (Roy) and two attacking mids to control the centre and build attacking opportunities, without leaving the defense totally in the lurch on a counterattack.
You’ll notice that Rojas is all by his lonesome as a solo striker. The risk with a formation like this is that the striker gets isolated if people aren’t pushing up on the attack, leaving the forward with nobody to create chances with or nobody to pull the other team’s defense away.
That’s why Sam and Colin are crucial in a formation like this. Those boys are gonna fucking run. In a 4-5-1, the wingers need to be making runs to support their striker, put pressure on the defense, and try to create openings to score. They also need to make sure they’re coming back to help defend, otherwise the other team’s going to walk right up their open wing. Colin and Sam’s game would be 90 minutes of wind sprints. I’ve played a little bit of wing in a formation like this. Your legs are jelly by the end.
Now then, next one. This is from 1x10 vs Man City, and we actually get both teams’ formations this time. (Brendan Hunt I swear to god I need you to give me a board like this every time please I’m begging)
This will look pretty similar to the 4-5-1. This is a 4-2-3-1, and it’s a very popular formation. Here’s Man United running it this season, and if you flip through other games you’ll find a lot more examples.
A 4-2-3-1 runs two defensive mids and one attacking mid, opposite of the 4-5-1. The wingers play a little higher to support the striker, and the attacking mid (Bumbercatch here) is intended to be a bit of a playmaker. The defensive mids reinforce the D. You play this formation when you need a solid defense and expect to get most of your chances on counterattacks. Because you have 3 mids playing a little higher, the transition to offense can be quick if you can get the ball out of your end. One of the weaknesses can be the gap that develops in the midfield, so you need your defensive mids to push up and close this space. I see that as a potential reason why they’ve moved Colin in from the wing.
In terms of the actual roster, Dixon’s off the injured list from 1x07 and in for Goodman, and Winchester’s in for Reynolds. Richard’s on the left wing for Colin, who becomes one of our two defensive mids along with Shannon, and then Moe as attacking mid. Rosenfeldt and of course Roy are sitting (Roy subs in for Shannon at half).
I think they’re running a 4-2-3-1 both as an answer to what they expect from Man City, but also to compensate for sitting Roy. In 1x01, Beard calls Roy a box-to-box midfielder. What he means is that Roy is a solid all-arounder. He’s a force on the attack alongside the strikers, but he also comes back deep to support the D and make things difficult for the other team. He’s a workhorse of a player, so pulling him might require a more defensive shift to compensate.
As an aside, this is the match where Ted asks the linesman to explain the offside rules after a Richmond player gets called offside. It’s specifically Winchester who gets called offside. Look at the formation. My man is a centre back with Isaac. What the cinnamon toast fuck was he doing all the way up there. This is what I mean when I say they’re playing fast and loose with some of the football aspects. For Winchester to be offside, he must be so absurdly out of position that it would make more sense for him to be playing defense for the other team. (I think this is mostly a writing oversight and they should have just used another name in the line but still very funny to me)
I also just want to quickly point out Man City’s formation. They’re running a 4-3-3. Jamie has a few lines where he mentions a manager named “Pep” at Man City. He’s talking about Pep Guardiola, the real-life manager of Man City. The 4-3-3 is a go-to for him. If you catch a Man City game this season, this is most likely what you’re gonna see. This formation is versatile and aggressive (particularly on counterattacks). It’s about holding possession, with the mids moving as a unit to set up series of short passes that open holes in the other team’s defense. If the mids are coordinated, this becomes a very defensively solid formation with lots of attacking power. Don’t think of a 4-3-3 as two wings and a centre mid, because that isn’t what it is at all.
Now then, on to season 2. First, I can’t find any FUCKING WHITEBOARDS. First one I found is in 2x08 (hey again Man City), and even then, it’s a play diagram rather than an actual roster. Anyway, here you go.
Now that we’ve reunited the two aces, we’re switching things up a bit. This looks like another 4-2-3-1 but it’s actually a messily drawn 4-4-2. They run the exact same formation for the False Nine in 2x12 (you get glimpses at halftime) but every screenshot I could get was ass so we’re gonna use this one instead. Colin and Richard have swapped again (Colin’s on the left in every formation this is why I say he’s left-footed), and Jamie’s up front with Dani. We have a pair of centre mids, rather than a trio of attacking/defensive mids like the other formations. I also finally got my confirmation that Jan Maas is a centre back! Couldn’t figure out if he was that or centre mid cause the game scenes are shot cinematographically rather than for any sort of…football comprehension.
This is specifically a flat 4-4-2 (vs the 4-4-2 diamond Roy wants to run with his girls team). It’s a versatile formation that trades a bit of defensive power for a stronger attack (Southampton’s running it this season if you wanna see it in action). Compared to a 4-2-3-1 they ran in 1x10, the 4-4-2 puts more pressure on the centre backs because they don’t have that pair of defensive mids supporting them. Jan and Isaac have to be physical and on it at all times to call out holes and get their teammates to fill the gaps. But you have the advantage of a pair of strikers who can play off each other and work in tandem, with Sam and Colin forcing defenders to come wide to cover them on the wings.
I think this is a spectacularly bad choice against Man City’s 4-3-3. Because the mids in a 4-3-3 work as a unit, Moe and Richard are always going to be outnumbered 3-2 in the middle of the field. Man City will have an easier time controlling the centre and holding possession because a Richmond player will have to come out of position to mark the extra man. Obviously Richmond primarily got their asses kicked for story reasons but uh…yeah I think they got their asses kicked for coaching reasons too.
Okay I’m coming up on 2000 words so I should probably stop now. I didn’t really get into the specifics of individual players. I can try to come up with something coherent for some of them, but there isn’t much to go on even more prominent players like Moe and Richard.
Anyways, I hope this was helpful and not endlessly boring. And please for the love of god let me know if you’re able to snag a clear look at a whiteboard I didn’t catch. I’m dying out here, man.
#ted lasso#afc richmond#roy kent#jamie tartt#sam obisanya#isaac mcadoo#colin hughes#jan maas#richard montlaur#moe bumbercatch#dani rojas#long post#i also really want to put something together about how they could parallel Richmond with Leicester City for some awesome story stuff#so i'll spit out something along those lines#at some point#also i'm not trying to present myself as the highest football authority here#i'm just trying to yell into the void about a show i love#this be the post
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heyyy. I know you’ve been doing marvel a lot, but if you could do one with morgan and the reader? Based on amplification and it’s the reader who gets sick instead. thanks!
Finally
Warnings: some mentions of being sick (cause... you know... anthrax), angst and fluff :)
Word Count: 2735
a/n: My first Morgan fic!! I love him so much! This one took me a while because 1) I feel like I'm not that good at rewriting episodes, and 2) I wanted to get Derek's character right. Hopefully it's not too terrible! I hope you enjoy!! :)
Masterlist
"Rossi, Prentiss head to his office. Morgan, get Reid and L/N from the hospital and check out his house." Hotch instructed as soon as Dr. Nichols was deemed a reasonable suspect.
It wasn't long before you, Reid, and Morgan were pulling up outside of Dr. Nichols house.
"It's clear so far. I'll let you know when we're done checking." One of the CDC techs said through a walkie.
"We should look around a bit." Reid started down the driveway, gesturing for you and Morgan to follow.
"Ow!" You flinched away from the rose bush, shaking your hand in an attempt to lessen the pain.
"You good?" Morgan eyed you, overly concerned about a small scrape.
"I'm fine. Promise." You winked, walking past him and Reid to check for anything out of the ordinary in the backyard.
"I don't understand why you haven't asked her out yet." Reid looked between you and Morgan. Unfortunately, Morgan was saved from answering by the sound of his phone ringing.
"Hey, princess what do you have?" Morgan greeted Garcia, glaring at Reid.
You continued to explore while Derek and Reid talked to Garcia. It wasn't until after you entered the shed-like building that you thought maybe the CDC should check for anthrax out here too.
By then it was too late.
"L/N?" You could hear Morgan calling you. "Y/N!" It was clear him and Reid were approaching the door you just walked through.
You ran back to the sliding glass door, slamming it shut and locking it before either of them could stop you.
"What's wrong?" He frantically ran up to the door.
"Get back! No, don't come any closer." Your eyes flitted between the two agents, landing solely on Derek when you muttered, "I'm sorry."
"Y/N, open the door..." Derek's typically powerful voice nearly broke as he watched you shake your head.
"I can't. I- I'm already exposed." You shook your head resolutely, convincing yourself this was the right move. "I'll look for anything that could help in here. It's the best move."
"Y/N, you need to go to the hospital." Derek put more power behind his words with hopes of convincing you.
"The hospital won't do anything for me. Nichols could've made a cure, and if he did it's probably in here." You tore your eyes from Derek, hoping Spencer would help you convince him. "Reid, tell him I'm right."
He looked conflicted, eyes flitting between you and Derek.
"She's right. The cipro isn't working on anyone infected. Her best chance is to stay in there and find something useful." Reid looked reluctantly at Derek.
"Then you better find a cure in there." Derek whispered, eyes lingering on you before he finally turned away to call Hotch.
-
"Morgan, Reid. How's L/N?" Hotch questioned immediately, forgoing any greeting.
"White powder all over the room and the air was blasting." Morgan responded quickly. He made brief eye contact with Hotch before turning to walk back to the door.
The general barked out instructions for a decontamination team and cordoning off the area.
"Get her in the ambulance." Hotch directed Morgan and Reid.
"She won't." Morgan felt his heart rate increase at the thought of you staying in there any longer. "Said she's more helpful inside than in the hospital."
"Nichols is dead, looks to be about 2-3 days." Reid added on.
Just then Hotch's phone rang.
"L/N?" He answered on speaker.
"I really messed up this time." You let out a dry laugh.
"You need to get to the hospital." Hotch tried to argue.
"I know Morgan and Reid already told you I won't go. There could be answers in here." Your stubbornness was showing. "I need to figure out who killed Nichols."
"Y/N-" You cut Morgan off before he could try to convince you to leave.
"I think he had a partner." You decided to refocus the conversation on the case rather than yourself.
"I'll get Rossi and Prentiss to ask at his office." Hotch sighed in resignation.
"Good, I'll keep looking at everything in here."
You hung up before anyone could argue further. You shoved your phone into your pocket, immediately going back to look through papers and lab equipment around the room.
As you worked inside, you could hear the CDC team setting up outside.
Watching through the windows as people in full hazmat suits prepared to enter the room you were in made everything feel more real.
You pulled your phone swiftly out of your pocket dialling the number you knew by heart.
"Hi." Garcia's voice was quiet when she answered the phone.
"No funky greeting? I'm feeling a little jipped." You tried to joke with her, but it fell flat.
"I can't be my normal, bubbly self when you are where you are." Again, her voice was quiet.
"Garcia, can you do something for me?" Your voice was steady, masking the emotion about to pour out of you.
"What? Tell me what to do and I'll do it." She frantically moved around her desk, ready to do anything you requested.
"You know how a few weeks ago, you were joking about my crush on Morgan?" You asked slowly.
"The one you swore didn't exist? I remember." Her voice was laced with confusion at your topic change.
"Well, um, do you think you could record a message for him?" Your breaths were unsteady as you thought about saying goodbye.
"But you're gonna be fine." She spoke with authority, as if saying it made it true.
"I know, but, um... just in case. I want him to hear it at least once." Your voice broke.
"Okay. Um, whenever you're ready." She listened as you spoke to Derek.
"Hi Derek. Um, I kind of have a secret to tell you, but first I want you to know this isn't your fault. I'm the idiot who walked into the lab. It's on me. I guess I just want to make sure you hear this from me at least once." You cleared your throat, thick from emotion.
"I, uh, I think I'm maybe, just a little bit, um... in love with you." You felt the tears fall from your cheeks. "You're my best friend. You've always been there for me when cases hit a little too close to home or even if I'm just having a bad day. You never fail to make me smile, no matter how hard I'm trying not to."
You wiped at your cheeks roughly, trying to focus on the message.
"I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I never knew how. I guess I'm glad I walked in here for one reason. It finally pushed me to tell you how I feel."
You chuckled again, but there was no humor in it.
"I'm, ah, I'm really sorry if this is goodbye." You paused, unsure if you had anything left to say.
"Y/N?" Garcia questioned if you were still on the line.
"Prep the victim for transfer." You could hear Dr. Kimura entering the room, preparing to begin treating you.
"I've got to go." You hung up without another word, trying to rid your face of any evidence of the tears before facing the doctor.
"How are you feeling?" She questioned once you were in view.
"I'm actually feeling okay." You nodded, trying to convince yourself it was true. She eyed you like she didn't believe you, but nodded with you anyway.
"Alright, how can I help?"
You spent the next few minutes explaining Dr. Nichols profile. Dr. Kimura set off to look for the cure while you continued trying to figure out who killed Nichols.
-
"L/N, stick with me." Morgan's voice sounded through your phone, drawing your attention away from the stack of papers in your hand. "Prentiss and Rossi don't think the partner is from work."
"Okay, um..." You went back to the bigger desk. "He's got course syllabi and outlines dating back to the 80s." You glanced around the room, eyes catching on the other desk.
"A student..." You trailed off, mind moving a mile a minute.
"Talk to me." Morgan drew your attention again.
"Derek, I think it's a student. There's two desks, different organization on both. The smaller one has what looks like a dissertation that Nichols could've been grading. He wouldn't open his lab to a scientist, but he might for educational purposes." You prattled on, more and more information fitting the theory.
"I'll get Garcia to look at science students." Morgan gestured for Hotch to call Garcia. He was about to hang up when you corrected him.
"Wait! The paper, it's more about social policies surrounding an anthrax attack, not the actual science of it." You spoke quickly, trying to hold in an impending cough.
"Okay, political science and social studies majors then." Morgan trailed off, waiting for your response.
"Good. That's good." You coughed slightly, listening to the sound of his breathing.
"Garcia's got a match." Hotch nodded to Morgan before heading toward the SUVs.
"Y/N, you got everything you could in there. Now get the hell out." He practically begged.
"Sure thing, Derek. Bye." You hung up right as Dr. Kimura walked back toward you.
"His inhaler! It could have the cure, right?" She looked to you for approval.
-
"They're checking out Brown's house." Derek watched as they hosed you down.
"Go help them." You coughed slightly, wincing at the cool water.
"They've got plenty of help. I'm staying with you." His eyes never left yours.
"Please." You looked him in the eye. "They're about to strip me naked and hose me down. As much as I know that's something you want to see, I don't think I look my best right now." You joked, watching the way he averted his eyes slightly.
"Y/N, I-" You cut him off again.
"I know." You smiled softly, gesturing for him to go. "Now go help catch him." You kept your eyes on him until he was out of sight.
Turning back to the conversation happening in front of you, you watched as Dr. Kimura instructed another hazmat team member to get the inhaler tested for the cure.
"It makes sense for the inhaler to have the cure." Your mind felt fuzzy as you thought it over. You moved to grab your head, something catching the attention of the doctor.
"Agent L/N, did you cut your hand?" You glanced at your hand, remembering the rose bush outside. You nodded, eyes widening ever so slightly at the now blistering cut on your hand.
"Let's move." You were quickly cleaned of any lingering traces of anthrax before she directed you into the waiting ambulance. "Are you still feeling fine?" She questioned while taking your vitals.
"I'm doing great. I flea foon. I fill fon." You muttered, eyes rolling back in your head.
"Driver, faster!" She called to the front of the ambulance as you started coughing blood.
-
"Are you eating my jello?" You cleared your throat as you eyed Derek sitting next to your bed.
"Yes I am." He stared directly into your eyes as he ate another spoonful.
"Well, is there more?" You pouted, eyes still lingering on the cup in Derek's hands. He laughed in response.
"What happened?" You slowly moved to sit up, eyes flitting around the various machines in your room.
"The cure was in the inhaler. The other patients are in recovery, and you are going to be just fine." The way he smiled when he said 'just fine' had your heart aching. He just looked so relieved.
"Brown?" You continued your line of questioning.
"We got him. It's over." Derek's soft smile remained, eyes flitting around your body as if he were making sure you were actually okay.
"Well, that's a relief." You took a deep breath. "There's actually something I want to tell you."
He raised a brow, a small smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.
"Oh, yeah? Does Garcia know anything about this?"
You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, eyes widening in horror that he had already heard the message. "Oh, um, I mean, technically yes. I didn't- I wouldn't have told her before you if I didn't think I might die!" Your voice was rising in pitch, panic surging through your body.
"Woah, babygirl, slow down." His previous smirk shifted into another look of concern, although he still let out a small chuckle. "She just told me to ask you about a message. That's all."
"Oh." Your mouth stayed in the 'o' shape for longer than necessary, your body's way of stalling what you were about to say. "You haven't heard the message?"
"Nope." He said with a pop. "Care to enlighten me?"
"Well, I guess I have to since you brought it up." You rolled your eyes, messing with him.
"Hey, now! You started it." He clearly had you beat, so you just blurted it out.
"I think I love you!" You threw your hands over your mouth, eyes wide now that you'd confessed to your best friend that you're in love with him.
"That's what the message said. I thought- I mean there was a strong possibility that I was going to die. I didn't want that to happen without me having told you how I actually feel."
Your eyes were focused on the edges of the hospital blanket where your fingers were twisting a loose thread.
"Can I hear it?" His question confused you, causing you to look at him with a furrowed brow. "The message I mean?"
You nodded slowly, texting Garcia to see if she could send it to you. The chime of a text coming in happened almost instantly. You didn't hesitate to hit play on the recording.
"Hi Derek. Um, I kind of have a secret to tell you, but first I want you to know this isn't your fault. I'm the idiot who walked into the lab. It's on me. I guess I just want to make sure you hear this from me at least once.
I, uh, I think I'm maybe, just a little bit, um... in love with you. You're my best friend. You've always been there for me when cases hit a little too close to home or even if I'm just having a bad day. You never fail to make me smile, no matter how hard I'm trying not to.
I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I never knew how. I guess I'm glad I walked in here for one reason. It finally pushed me to tell you how I feel.
I'm, ah, I'm really sorry if this is goodbye."
The message cut off abruptly at that point.
You could feel your heart pounding as if it were trying to escape your chest.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize it sounded so sad." You smiled, though your eyes were watery. "I mean, I guess it makes sense since I thought you would only hear it if I died." You continued rambling, eyes looking anywhere but at Derek.
"Y/N?" He prevented you from muttering any other embarrassing words.
"Yeah?" You winced, trying to prepare yourself for his rejection.
"I love you too."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any-" You abruptly stopped, the words you heard finally catching up with your brain.
"You- you love me too?" You whispered, eyes finally meeting his.
"I do." His smile was wider than you've ever seen, and so, so pure.
"Oh." Your mind was having a hard time comprehending the gravity of what just happened. Luckily for you, Derek knew exactly what was going on when he leaned in to kiss you.
It took a second for your body to respond, but as soon as it did you could feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach.
Despite how new it was, everything felt right in the world when you were kissing Derek Morgan.
He only pulled back when you gently pushed him away, a wide smile on your face as you sucked in deep breaths of air. The two of you stared at each other lovingly, just enjoying the presence of one another.
The sound of a throat clearing coming from the doorway shocked you out of your trance. Reid stood leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. He uttered one word, perfectly encapsulating your own feelings on the situation.
"Finally."
permanent taglist:
@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan @sebastnstn
Criminal Minds tag list:
@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain
#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan#derek morgan fic#criminal minds fic#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan one shot#derek morgan angst
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always (l.r.h) part two
a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33
pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader
summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life.
warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up
word count: 2.9k
pt. 1
The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake.
Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.
You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money.
Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?”
But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance.
“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on.
“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence?
“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy.
“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?”
She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.”
You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.
“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair.
She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.”
You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days.
Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen.
“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.”
You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy.
You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up.
You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath.
“Y/n,”
Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort.
“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well.
As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.
“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.
You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach.
As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you.
“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.”
You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.
Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house.
When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times.
Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here.
Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.”
He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect.
Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first.
“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe.
“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.”
From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket.
“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt.
He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears.
“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused.
“What’re you talking about, love?”
You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week.
His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip.
“I am proud of you baby.”
He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice.
As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you.
“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.”
You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers.
“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.”
He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you.
“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.”
Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you.
“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-”
“I do need you.” you interrupted.
Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead.
“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.”
You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile.
“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?”
You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him.
Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life.
“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself.
If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck.
“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air.
“Yea?” he responded.
You hummed against his lips, “Always.”
#5sos imagine#5sos imagines#luke 5sos#luke hemmings#luke hemmings one shot#luke hemmings one shots#luke hemmings imagine#luke hemmings imagines#luke hemmings angst#luke hemmings fluff#luke hemmings x reader#luke hemmings x you#luke hemmings x y/n#luke hemmings x fem!reader#5sos angst#5sos one shots#5sos one shot#5sos fluff#5 seconds of summer#5sos masterlist#5 seconds of summer imagines#5sos#luke hemmings blurb#luke hemmings drabble#5sos blurbs
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A Friend of Yours - pt. 3
pairing: bucky x reader
warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!, language, canon lvl violence, soft!bucky, some suggestive content, it’s ten thousand words so i’m sure i missed something, just lmk and i’ll tag it accordingly babes.
word count: 10,246 (i may have gone a little overboard)
a/n: this is the last part, unless y’all want more. i’m rlly proud of myself w this series, granted MUCH of the content was already written for me, nonetheless, here you go. i hope y’all like it <3
read A Friend of Yours - pt. 1 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 2
p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!
check out my m.list here!
xoxo ray
The Wilson family house was adorable. Two stories with chipped blue paint on the walls and yellowing white on the columns. You had beat Sam there, so you decided to just look around for a few minutes before meeting Sarah and the boys. You walked out to the dock in front of their house, admiring the water, how still and calm it was. You were staring into the distance when you heard small footsteps from behind you.
“You know, it’s rude to sneak up on people.” You weren’t sure which boy it was, but you were trying to present a non-threatening front.
“You know, it’s rude to invite yourself onto someone else's property.” You were surprised when you heard Sam’s voice respond to you. Turning quickly to face the man with the confused expression. “I thought you wouldn’t come to the States because of the whole Enemy of it thing.” He walked away from you, gesturing for you to follow as he picked up your abandoned duffle. “He’s not here if that’s who you’re looking for.” You shook your head as you crossed the threshold into the living room.
“I’m not here for him, although he would be a much welcome bonus.” The two of you shared a laugh. “But no, I’m here to help you however I can.” Sam’s eyes narrowed, wondering if he should question your generosity. Your eyes must have given away your desperation for a home because he decided against it.
“Okay, but if you’re here, you’re gonna work. We’ve got a lot of shit to get done if we’re going to fix this boat up.”
“What boat?” You smiled at him as he began explaining what was going on. He just skimmed the top of what was really happening, but you could tell he was worried even though he wore a good facade.
“Get changed into some clothes you don’t mind getting messed up.”
“Am I going to be doing, like, manual labor?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look to which you groaned, “So, shorts are out of the question?” Sam had already walked into the kitchen before replying.
“Only if you want to freeze your ass off!” You changed quickly into a pair of ripped mom jeans that you cinched with a belt at your waist and a white short sleeved shirt.
“Do you have an overshirt I can borrow?”
“You mean, a flannel?” Sam shot back as he exited the room.
“Yeah, an overshirt.”
“No. A flannel. Come on, say it with me, flannel.” He tossed one your way, which you put on the rolled the sleeves up to your elbows.
“It’s an overshirt, Sam. I’m not seeing the issue.”
“Y/N, it's a flannel. Just say flannel, why you gotta make it all fancy?” He walked out the back door and onto a wooden bridge that led to the marina the boat was docked at. He didn’t let the flannel thing go the whole way over, making you laugh loudly and shake your head. As you walked up the dock, you could see several people helping Sarah and Sam with their boat.
“This is all you guys?” You were amazed, you hadn’t seen togetherness like this since before Aunt Peggy died. “Wow.” You said mostly to yourself as Sam walked you up to the woman of the hour.
“Sarah, we’ve got another one. Sarah, Y/N. Y/N, Sarah.” You stuck your hand out for Sarah to shake, which she did kindly. “I’m going to work on getting some of the siding off the boat. Sarah, Y/N is all yours.” He darted off, leaving you with Sarah.
“What ya got for me, Sarah? I’m here to do whatever you need.” She began instructing you to help with cataloging everything that people were bringing. Whether it be rusty spare parts or a couple twenty dollar bills, Sarah wanted to know and she wanted a record of it. A truck pulled up next to the boat and Sam got out hugging the men that exited it.
“Tommy, Carlos, man, this is amazing.” They exchanged a few more words before one of them asked the inevitable question.
“How do we get it off the truck?” A loud scraping sound emitted as the pallet was taken from the truck bed. Bucky lifted the bundle of parts over his head effortlessly, dropping it on the ground. He turned to the group of three men staring at him.
“You’re welcome.” You laughed as you approached. Bucky hauled a gray and black case onto the truck bed, speaking to Sam about it. Suddenly, one of the pipe fittings went out of whack, causing a steady stream of air to escape on the boat. Sarah stopped in front of it on the dock.
“Sam!” She was holding her clipboard as she watched Sam try to stop the leak with a crescent wrench. Bucky walked up next to Sarah, saying hi before telling Sam he was doing it wrong.
“Men. They even mansplain to other men, can you believe that?” You said from beside Sarah while Bucky finished fixing the leak. You tilted your head to admire him, “But we love to watch them work, huh?” She laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at her. Bucky and Sam turned back to you and Sarah and Bucky’s eyes widened when they landed on your figure. Sam walked toward the front of the boat as Bucky stopped to introduce himself to Sarah.
“Sarah--” His eyes flicked to yours, “Y/N.” Then he quickly followed behind Sam.
“Oh, what was that, Y/N?” Sarah teased, two can play at that game.
“I don’t know, what was your thing about, Sarah?” You said her name like Bucky did to mess with her. She shoved your shoulder away and pushed you back to work.
You had to admit, watching Bucky do domestic type things with his metal appendage did things to you. Just knowing that he was comfortable enough to be around Sam’s whole family with his arm fully on display, made you happy. The sun was beginning to go down, and you were sharing a beer with Sam and Bucky. Bucky hadn’t spoken to you directly since he got there and it was starting to irk you. You thought that you had something, but maybe not. Bucky rose from his position on the boat, clinking his bottle with Sam’s, claiming he needed to find a hotel room so he could catch his flight tomorrow.
“You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam joked.
“I just don’t wanna make it weird for your family.” But Bucky’s eyes caught yours as he spoke.
“Just stay here, man.” Sam began a rant about the people of the town, ending with, “Plus we already got one freeloader for the night, what’s one more, right?”
“Oh goodie! Are we going to braid each other’s hair and play Seven Minutes in Heaven, too?” you teased Sam, but Bucky stiffened.
“We can do whatever you want.” Sam said, then he pointed at Bucky, “Just don’t flirt with my sister. Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up, feed you to the fish.” Bucky made a face at Sam before smiling again.
Later that night, after you had all eaten dinner and the kids had gone to bed, you contemplated what your next move was going to be. You were sitting in one of the patio couches outside, a blanket wrapped around your legs, watching the stars reflection in the water. Bucky walked out on the porch, a pair of sweats-- that he had to borrow from Sam because he didn’t pack anything-- slung low on his hips, his blue Henley stopping just before the waistband of his boxers.
His gaze met yours and he approached you as if you were a wild animal and you were going to run away if he made any sudden movements. Your legs had been sprawled across both cushions of the couch, so instead of letting you change positions, Bucky just lifted your legs and then rested them on his lap. His left hand was rubbing back and forth just above your ankle.
“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me, James?” He ignored your question all together, opting to ask his own.
“Do you remember when we first met?” You thought back to the first time that you ever saw him. Chained to a chair, hair hiding his face from nosy onlookers.
“Uh, yeah. You were being treated like an animal, caged in a glass box. Why?” His left hand never stopped its motion on your leg.
“When you first started staring at me, I was absolutely positive that it was out of fear. Then when I actually looked at you, you were curious.” You nodded your head, recalling the emotions.
“That was a stressful day.” You could sense that Bucky didn’t need your input to get to where he was going.
“Then, when we were in that stupid tiny blue car that Steve had crammed us into,” he paused to laugh at the memory, “I was sure in that moment, that I was never going to see you again.” His gaze hadn’t left his palms on your legs, refusing to meet your eyes. “And when I saw you in Madripoor, I was positive that it was just someone who looked a lot like you. It couldn’t have been you, I wasn’t that lucky.”
His left hand gripped your leg as he spoke, “But then you started talking and I would’ve known that voice anywhere. All I wanted was to be close to you.”
“Bucky, you almost broke my arm because I sucker punched Zemo.” He shushed you.
“All I wanted was to be close to you, but I’m also a violent person.” He brought his head up, locking his steel blue orbs with yours. “Then you kept talking and you were so smart. So beautiful.” His metal hand left your leg to cup your chin. “Every word out of your mouth mesmerized me, even when you were kind of insulting me.” His thumb stroked your jaw, traveling up to your bottom lip. “And God, the way you said my name.” Your nostrils flared and your brow raised.
“What? James?” You trapped your bottom lip in between your teeth, giving Bucky reason to pull it out with his metal thumb. Your tongue shot out to wet your lips out of habit and Bucky shot you a glare.
“Doll. What’re you doing to me?” He dropped his thumb back to your cheek as his eye flicked over your face. He brought his hands down to your waist, holding it tightly and pulling you closer to him. Your ass now rested against his right leg, and he transferred his grip to wrap around your blanket covered thighs. A squeal escaped your lips without your permission, making your face contort.
“When we were sitting at the bar in your gallery I wanted nothing more than to smother you with all my love and affection.” Your heart rate increased, you want that too. “I’m glad I wasn’t able to though.” Your stomach dropped, a feeling of rejection washing over you. You began to pull away from him, wanting to escape his touch. He gripped your legs tighter against his body, “At that time, I wasn’t what I should be for you. I’ll probably never be exactly what I should be for you, but I’m selfish enough right now that I don’t care anymore.” He twisted his upper body to face you.
“What are you talking about, James?” A visible shiver ran down his spine as you said his real name. He brought both his hands up to grip your face. The cool air added to the temperature difference of his hands.
“I’m talking about this.” It wasn’t a half a second later that his lips were on yours. It took you a second to respond, but you did with fervor. Your hands traveled to his neck to show him that you wanted this too. His fingers fanned out, cupping behind your ears to bring you impossibly closer to him. His tongue traced your bottom lip, seeking entrance which you denied playfully. He brought his thumbs to rest on your chin, applying pressure as he asked again. At this point, you didn’t care about the pardon, or Karli and the Flag Smashers, or Sharon and the Power Broker, or even Sam, Sarah and the boys. You could only focus on James’ lips that were molding so perfectly with your own. You eventually had to break apart, your fingertips coming to rest on James’ kiss swollen lips. You locked eyes with him again, his pupils blown wide, and the two of you laughed.
“Oh, that.” You traced his lips while holding his stare. “Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” He nodded quickly, gaze drifting down to your lips again. He leaned forward wanting to steal another kiss, but you stopped him. “That’s not okay behavior, James. You can’t just not talk to me because you’re frustrated with yourself.” He hummed a noise of assent, kissing your fingertips on his lips. His palm came up to keep your fingers pressed to his lips as his eyes roamed your face. “What does this mean, James? You aren’t just going to get my hopes up and then walk away right?” He pulled back from you, a look of disappointment crossing his features.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that would be a possibility.” He took a deep breath, “After my time in Wakanda, after Shuri de-programmed me, I thought I finally had a group of people I could trust. Then, Ayo was able to remove my arm within the blink of an eye, but not the way that they had when they were tweaking it.” He rested his body against the back of the patio couch. “My therapist had been telling me that I needed to trust someone, and up until that point, I did. I thought I had people who fully trusted me as well.” He looked over at you, silent tears racing down his cheeks. “This clearly isn’t a good excuse, but I felt like you wouldn’t have trusted me either.” Your hands came up to his face, wiping away his tears.
“James, I’ve known of you for years before I met you. Remember how Sharon said I did that report on you in high school?” He nodded as much as your hold on his face would allow him to. “Well, that’s when I first fell in love with the idea of you.” His eyes widened as you continued speaking. “Then, I was lucky enough to meet you and it felt like everything fell into place. After Sharon and I ran off to Madripoor, I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, and I was okay with that because maybe you were better left as an idea.” You laughed as you looked down at your lap, dropping your hands from his face. “Then I got dusted during the Blip, which is a whole other thing and then Sharon said that you were in Madripoor.” You shook your head then faced him, eyes locking with his red rimmed pair.
“I would love to fall in love with you. And right now, I want nothing more than to let the trust we have for each other grow into something more.” A wide smile spread across his face and he bared his teeth at you, scrunching his face at the nose.
“I want that too.” He leaned forward slapping a sloppy kiss onto your lips, which you returned with equal intensity. When Bucky pulled back from you to catch his breath, he left his forehead resting against your own. Your breaths synchronized and he patted his hand twice on your outer thigh, signalling you that he was going to get up. “We better get some sleep.” He stood in front of you, offering you his hand. You smiled as you entwined your fingers with his metal ones.
Luckily, Cas and AJ were kind enough to share a room tonight so you could sleep in the other. Bucky’s hand never left your side as he walked you up the stairs. Once you had reached the closed door, he wrapped his arm around you, twisting your body to face him, back pressed against the cold wood of the door. He pushed his whole body forward, molding your bodies together as his hands hooked into the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“I’m glad that we talked, Y/N.” He pecked your lips, pulling back afterwards to stare at your face.
“I’m glad we did too, but what are you doing?” A nervous laugh left your lips and Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.
“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward kissing your cheeks, “I’m happy,” A kiss to your chin. “that I’ll be able to,” one to your nose, “call you my doll soon.” His lips lingering on your forehead before bringing his chin up to the top of your head, pulling you into him for a hug. You brought your arms up to wrap around his waist, your face pressed into the spot where his neck and collarbone met.
“Am I not already your doll?” Your question was muffled against his skin, but he heard you.
“Not until I specifically ask you. You can be mine without being my doll, but I want to wine and dine you before I feast.” Your brows raised again and your lips rolled inwards.
“Before you feast?” You were holding back a laugh, so Bucky pulled back, his hands gripping your shoulders, face serious.
“Feast.” He reached behind you opening the door. He gave you a quick smooch before pushing you into the empty room, alone with your thoughts. You had a harder time falling asleep that night. Bucky, on the other hand, had no problem, sleeping like a rock with a smug smile on his face.
You woke up to the sound of eggshells being cracked and forks hitting the sides of ceramic plates. Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, you saw Sarah working over the stove while Cas was scrambling eggs. Sarah heard you coming down, ever the always aware mother.
“Hey, hope you’re hungry, ‘cause you aren’t leaving this kitchen without eating somethin’.” She watched as you peered into the living room, searching for Bucky’s imposing figure. “I think he’s down at the dock with Sam. They left real early this morning and girl, I swear to God if they’re messin’ with that water pump, I’m going to strangle the both of them.” You laughed, taking the plate of scrambled eggs that AJ was holding out to you.
“Did you tell them that the water pump wasn’t the issue?” She nodded as she stirred the eggs in her pan. “Then you know that they are, Sarah.” The two of you shared a laugh as Cas and AJ sat down to eat, as well.
“Y’all better hurry up before you’re late for the bus.” The boys quickly shoved their remaining food into their mouths, rushing out the door after kissing their mother goodbye.
“How do you do it?” Sarah’s head tilted, wondering what you were referring to. “Being a single mother and managing a business? Does it all get to be too much sometimes?” She could tell you were genuinely curious, so she sighed.
“It’s definitely challenging at times, but thankfully I have a good enough relationship with AJ and Cas that we’re able to get through pretty much anything. After we lost their Dad, I was all alone and scared. I’m still scared a lot of the time, scared that I’m going to mess them up, you know?” She paused a second to recollect her thoughts. “It’s just by chance that we live in this amazing community that helped me whenever I needed a little bit of assistance.” The conversation between the two of you fizzled after that, perhaps it was too heavy a topic for breakfast to handle. You followed her to meet a group of people at the marina, but the journey there wasn’t silent.
“So, I have a question, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Although I feel like if you don’t answer it, you’re kind of answering it.” You encouraged her to ask whatever she wanted to. “You and Bucky are a thing, right?” You coughed, unsure of how to answer. “That’s all the confirmation I needed.” Sarah smiled at you as your mouth struggled to form words.
“We are, but we aren’t?” Sarah gave you a look making you roll your eyes. “I don’t know he said that he was excited to see where this was going and then we kissed, so yes?”
“Oh, he looks like a good kisser.”
“Right? Just like he’s got the bone structure and lip plumpness ratio down to a T.” There was a brief moment of silence before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. The walk down the marina dock wasn’t a long one, so you were able to see Sam and Bucky hunched over a pile of scattered parts.
“Uh-huh. No. No.” Sarah’s head began shaking as Sam was arguing with Bucky, who wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his eyes were roaming your figure, lingering on your face. His eyes darted to Sam before he greeted the two of you with a wave of his hand.
“I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”
“Yep, Samuel.” Bucky teasingly berated, taking Sarah’s side.
“You’re in just as much trouble, you by-stander.” Your voice lilted into a playful tone as Bucky made a shocked face at you.
“In our defense, we were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”
“I don’t come up to the sky to tell you how to barrel roll, so don’t come down here and mess around with things you don’t understand.” Your fist came up to your mouth.
“Oh, that’s a-burn, Bird Brain.” You pointed a finger at Sam, clutching your stomach with your other hand as Sarah swatted the two boys away. Bucky stopped next to you, wrapping his metal arm around the front of your body, delivering a soft kiss to your temple. He left with Sam, arguing the whole way to the house while you stayed with Sarah, reassembling the water pump.
By the time you had gotten back to the Wilson house, Bucky was hauling his backpack strap onto his shoulder. You slowed your approach, holding your open palms in front of you, confused as to what Bucky was doing.
“Where are you going?” He turned to face you, a smile spreading over his face. His metal arm wrapped around your waist again, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I’m heading to New York, I’ve got some stuff to wrap up there. I want you to come with me.” You were taken aback, what about Karli and the GRC?
“We haven’t finished this whole thing with the Flag Smashers, or Walker. Bucky, we can’t just walk away from our responsibilities.” Bucky’s hands clasped around your shoulders.
“We aren’t, Y/N, I promise. Sam has Torres doing something with some signal do-dads and he’s going to call us the second he gets a lead.” He spoke calmly and you thought it over. At least he wasn’t trying to run away again, he was accepting that he had a real role in this. You could feel a shift coming, you weren’t quite sure what it meant, but you were hoping it was a good one.
“Okay, let’s go to New York.”
The two of you hadn’t even been in New York maybe twenty minutes when Sam texted Bucky that he had a line on where Karli was. Supposedly she was heading a takeover of the GRC meeting in Lower Manhattan. If being in New York as a wanted person was nerve wracking enough, now you were going to be surrounded by hundreds of government officials and some of New York’s finest. Bucky was on the phone with Sam, talking through the plan when your phone buzzed. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you saw Sharon’s name pop up.
“Heard you were having a bit of trouble with Karli again. Don’t worry, help is on the way, dear.” Your eyes rolled, still not over your argument before.
“You don’t need to be here for this Sharon.” You paused for a second, your left hand resting on your hip. “How did you even hear about this? Sam just now called Bucky, and I guarantee that he didn’t call you first.” Sharon chuckled on her end of the phone.
“You underestimate my reach, Y/N. I’ll meet you outside the building.” Your jaw clenched.
“Sharon, you said you didn’t want to help. What the hell changed that you’re so willing to put yourself in the middle of all this shit?” She was silent on her end.
“I figured you would want me there.” Well, shit what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?
“Lower Manhattan, keep quiet.” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You hated not talking to her, and being mad at her was next to impossible. This was your way of saying ‘I forgive you,’ and you knew she would understand. Bucky didn’t say anything as he watched you push your phone into the pockets of your jeans. He could tell something was off, but he could also see that you definitely didn’t want to talk about it right now. Instead he jerked his head for you to follow him, leading you through the streets of Manhattan.
The two of you could see the red lights illuminating the streets, letting you know that you were here. Bucky turned to you, holding his hand out to you, a single earpiece laying in the middle of his palm. As you took it, his hand drifted to your jaw, lifting it to face him. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before nodding for you to stay behind him. You pulled the brim down on the hat you wore as you stuck to Bucky like glue. He led you through the barricade, one of the soldiers addressing him accordingly.
“Sergeant Barnes.” You made a face beneath your cap, holding back a laugh as Bucky came to a stop in front of you.
“Oh, Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky looked at you over his shoulder as his skin twitched. Your eyes widened. “Does that turn you on, James?” He wasn’t able to answer because of an interruption by Sam’s voice in your ears.
“By the way, I called in some backup.” An agent approached the two of you while Sam kept speaking. “Also, please remember that I can hear everything you say, Y/N. And I don’t need to know what makes the Tin Man tick.” You laughed at Sam’s statement as a twinge of pink ran up the back of Bucky’s neck.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The agent’s hand came up to his hairline. A click sounded as the agent’s face began to glitch. “It’s me.”
“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Sharon pointed an accusatory finger at you.
“Why didn’t you say that to her? The same people who want me in the Raft, want her there too. Or did you forget that?”
“Do I hear Sharon?” Sam asked as he listened in on your conversation.
“Unfortunately.” Bucky grumbled back.
“Hey Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” She threw a wink at you as she stepped closer to Bucky. Sam said something else to her, but you had zoned out to watch Sharon. “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”
“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky said as he backed away from Sharon and closer to you.
“They’re going to move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam brought you all back to the task at hand, switching into Captain mode. Bucky nodded to you and Sharon.
“Go with her.” You made a face at him, about to protest when he cut you off. “I don’t care. Stick with her, Y/N. Don’t get arrested though. We’ve got a date.” He wrapped his arm around the front of your waist, like he did at the Wilson house. He pressed a kiss to your temple, staying a little longer than necessary and giving your hip a squeeze before he released you. You heard glass break above your head as Sam crashed through one of the windows upstairs.
“You guys are going to have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” You walked behind Bucky to enter the building, the metal detector going off for both you and Sharon. You shared a look with the woman.
“Oops.” Bucky pointed at a guard in tactical gear while he stepped forward.
“He’s one of them. I’ll get the evac.” He left before you could stop him, leaving you and Sharon to deal with the man he pointed at. The both of you followed him to the parking garage, where he was standing post next to two black armored vehicles. The two of you were waiting behind a pillar as you debated what to do.
“We need to stop him.”
“If we take him down now, they’re going to be suspicious and we are going to get arrested. Cool your jets, Y/N.” Your nostrils flared at her tone, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Why didn’t you tell Sam you were already coming?”
“What?” Sharon seemed startled by the question as if you didn’t catch the slip Sam said earlier.
“Sam said that he called in backup. I’m assuming he meant you because we’re the only four people he knows. So why didn’t you tell him you were already coming, or already here or whatever?”
“I didn’t think it was important.” She said dismissively, you could tell she wanted you to drop the subject, but you wanted the truth. Throwing a glance up to the guard, you saw him helping the GRC officials into the vans.
“Damn it Bucky, you had one job.” Bucky ran past you, grumbling a response as he loaded his weight onto a motorbike.
“We aren’t done with this, Sharon.” You pointed at her before she walked away from you. You watched as she ran into the guard then apologized profusely to him. When you caught up to her, she clicked a button in her hand, releasing a noxious gas in the guard’s face. You saw his skin being bubbling and sizzling.
“How’d you do that?” Your eyes hadn’t left the man in the car.
“Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” The two of you continued walking out of the garage, a helicopter started taking off from the helipad on the top of the building.
“Sam, that chopper’s about to take off.”
“Bucky!”
“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Sam groaned in the earpiece and then you saw him shoot out the window again, chasing after the helicopter. You walked alongside Sharon, following Bucky’s path after the NYPD vans. You got to the barricade just in time to see Scruff holding one of the cars back from falling off a ledge. You were too far away to be able to get to him in time to help, though. You stood next to Sharon as he was ripped away from the back of the car. Your heart dropped as your gaze went to Bucky, who was standing directly underneath the car that was about to crush him.
The crowd around you was holding their phones in front of their faces, at an angle that all they could see was the back of the NYPD van full of GRC officials screaming for help. As the car slipped farther and farther down the platform, your stomach churned more and more. Suddenly, the car stopped, hovering over the opening in the ground. You could make out Sam’s new wings on either side of the car. He pushed forward, lifting the car back to a safe position and then moving away, allowing the crowd to see him fully. The star on his suit glinted proudly as he stood still for a second. The crowd erupted in cheers for the savior. A man to your left cheered for ‘Black Falcon,’ but the man beside him corrected him before you had the chance to.
“No. That’s Captain America.” Red Wing left Sam’s suit to undo the locking mechanism on the back of the van and the GRC officials evacuated the vehicle quickly. Sam turned in the air, removing his shield from his back and throwing it at the Flag Smashers below, knocking them off their feet. At some point, you began moving toward the edge of the platform, ready to help and away from Sharon.
An explosion went off to your right, causing you to search for the source. Puffs of smoke were being thrown in the pit where Sam and Bucky stood and you could see Karli getting away in the confusion. Bucky’s voice rang through your ear.
“Hey. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” You searched for Sharon so you could join up again, but you couldn’t find her. You could hear Sam telling Bucky that the Smashers had split up, and you knew that Bucky would’ve gone with Scruff to keep an eye on him, the unstable bastard. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon crouched behind a stack of pallets, and your brows furrowed. She began whistling and then you heard Karli’s voice.
“Dovich? Is that you?” Sharon emerged from behind the stack, holding her gun in front of her.
“I’m disappointed in you.” Karli brought her gun up as well, speaking to Sharon as an old friend.
“That’s what I was gonna say.” Sharon brought her hands up in surrender, and your head tilted, what the fuck is going on? “You know, when you first came to Madripoor, you reminded me of a young me. I took you in, gave you an opportunity, and you betrayed me.” Oh hell no.
“Because you wanted to control a world that hurt you.” Karli lowered her gun but all her senses remained in overdrive. “But I wanted to change it. I’m not interested in power or an empire. I have bigger dreams.” Sharon scoffed, looking around, her eyes darting over where you were hidden behind a stack of boxes. Could it really be? Was Sharon really the person that you thought you knew?
“What, like this?” She stepped closer to Karli. “Come back and work for me again. All of you. We can make a difference together.” Sharon was trying really hard to convince Karli, but she wasn’t having it.
“You just want me because you need your muscle back. Without us Super Soldiers, how much power does the Power Broker really have?” Motherfucker. You zoned out a bit, trying to decide what to do. A male voice began speaking in French causing you to refocus.
“Four times, or--” You could see Batroc’s gun pointed at Karli and Sharon’s face was indifferent.
“I don’t do blackmail.” Sharon gripped her gun tighter, raising it quickly to shoot Batroc. Karli panicked and shot Sharon in the process. The gunshots were loud enough to give Sam an idea of where you were all located. You came out from your position, gun gripped in your hand as you stood closer to Sharon. Maybe you could salvage this situation before Sam got here.
“Karli, calm down.” You kept a tight hold on your pistol as you talked. “Look, I get it. You’re scared, but I’m going to need you to put the gun down.”
“I’ll put mine down when you do.” You could hear a slight shake in her voice. You tilted your head at her apologetically.
“You know I can’t do that.” You cast a glance at Sharon who was clutching her stomach, attempting to stop the blood flow. Karli gulped as she raised her gun again.
“Well, I can’t have any loose ends now, can I? You taught me that, Power Broker.” She sneered at a groaning Sharon. A blinding pain began radiating from your shoulder and your hand immediately when to the area. The force of the bullet knocked you off your feet, slamming your head into the ground.
“Shit, what the fuck Karli!” You could make out Sam’s figure coming up from behind Karli. You saw him process Karli standing over one dead body and two injured ones. The wheels began turning and he started speaking.
“So, what’s next, huh? You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end?” He stepped closer to an agitated Karli. “Please, let me help you.” He kept his voice calm.
“Don’t try and manipulate me.” Karli approached Sam ready to attack. Their fight continued as she pushed Sam backwards.
“I’m not gonna fight you!” She knocked Sam down to the ground, with the swing of a metal bar.
“Stay down!” She shouted at him. You pushed yourself to your knees, adrenaline pumping allowing you to get to Sharon to help hold pressure on her stomach. You watched from over Sharon as Sam rose to his feet, holding his body in a fighting stance.
“I can do this all day.” She launched herself at Sam, throwing his body back into a bunch of cinder blocks. Sam held his shield in front of him, protecting from her punches.
“Fight back!” She shouted as she delivered blow after blow. Sam ducked low, grabbing onto her torso, using his thrusters to send the both of them flying. Karli used the momentum to push off the ground, to bring Sam up to the ceiling. You sat back on your knees, worry lacing your features.
Sam held one of her hands to his chest as she continued throwing the other into his shield. She gripped the top edge of the shield, using it to gain leverage. She pulled her hand away from his chest, tossing his body forward. The shield slipped from Sam’s arm and he laid on the ground, recovering from her attacks. Karli leant down to pick up her gun and you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to tackle her.
She raised her gun, aiming it at a now shieldless Sam. Karli hesitated, staring at Sam before committing to her cause, ready to kill Captain America. You were steadily creeping forward as she debated, but you could see the moment she decided to pull the trigger. Just before she could, a gunshot sounded from behind you. A gasp left your lips as Sam ran to hold Karli.
Your head whipped around to see Sharon leaning against the stack behind her, gun still smoking. Sharon shook her head at you as she holstered her weapon. Sam lifted Karli into his arms and carried her away from the both of you. You stood a good three feet away from Sharon, hand on your gun in the waistband of your jeans.
“When were you going to tell me that you’re the Power Broker.”
“What the hell are you on about now, Y/N.” Your brows raised and your mouth opened in shock.
“I was fucking here when Karli was talking to you, dumbass. Is that why you shot her? ‘Can’t have any loose ends,’ she said you taught her that, Sharon. What the fuck?” Sharon laughed at you.
“You’re imagining things, Y/N.” She rose to her feet and began walking away from you.
“Sharon, don’t fuck with me right now. How long have you been the fucking Power Broker?” You followed her up the tunnel and out to where you could see Sam lecturing a Senator. Sneaking around to a medical bag, you grabbed two pieces of gauze.
“I’m not the Power Broker.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you, leaning against a car behind the ambulances. You were about to say something else when you saw Bucky and Sam approach the two of you. They took in the two of you, an angry look on your face and an annoyed one on hers.
“You’re blocking my light.” Sharon bit out to Sam.
“We got to get you to a hospital.” Sam told Sharon as Bucky walked up to you, pulling your gauze away from your shoulder, checking your bullet wound.
“It’s through and through and you know they aren’t going to listen to you.”
“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Your eyes glared at Sharon as you spoke. How long has she been doing this behind your back? Someone called for Sam’s attention.
“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, turning away from the newcomer’s view. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” Your jaw clenched but you remained silent. “For what it’s worth, the suit looks good on you.” She played a good victim, that’s for sure.
“Alright, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you away from the ambulances and news cameras.
“I didn’t forget my promise either, guys.” Sam nodded at the two of you before turning to do his Cap duties. Bucky remained silent beside you, content with just being in your presence again.
He led you to his apartment, bringing you to the bathroom where he pulled out a first aid kit. He placed it on the countertop, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you onto the granite.
“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” He flipped the top of the kit open, searching for what he needed.
“Trying to get me naked already? At least take me to dinner first, Sergeant.” You winked as you peeled your shirt off. Bucky glared at you then quickly looked at your shoulder.
“This is going to hurt, just so you know.” He didn’t give you time to say anything else before starting to clean the hole in your shoulder. You hissed as stings radiated from the wound, cursing under your breath as he blew on it. “Alright, here we go.” Bucky began stitching, returning your body to its former glory in his eyes. “How’d you managed to get shot?”
“I was attempting to get Karli to drop her gun.” You debated on telling Bucky what you learned about Sharon. “Who do you think the Power Broker is?” You asked gauging his reaction. His attention never wavered from his task. He soon finished with the front side of your shoulder, backing away and telling you to face the mirror. Bucky leaned forward, his hips pressing against your ass as he set to work on the exit wound.
“I have my theories. What about you?” You looked at the granite below, tracing the different lines, not answering for a few minutes.
“Mm, not really.” Was it naive to keep the knowledge to yourself? Probably, but this way you could deal with Sharon on your own and not have to involve Captain America.
“Y/N. You lived there for years, you’re telling me that you never encountered the Power Broker? Never worked for him before, procuring a particular art piece?” You shook your head as you felt him start to wrap your shoulder.
“No, I made sure that all my dealings were as clean as the illegal art trade could be.” Bucky nodded, closing the first aid kit and placing it back under the sink. He walked out of the bathroom and into his kitchen, pulling out a bottle of Advil. He shook two tablets into his metal hand and gave them to you along with a water bottle from the fridge.
“Take these and then go lay down. You need to sleep so your body can heal.” You could tell something was bothering him. You reached out to grasp his metal wrist.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Hmm?”
“Nothing. I’ve just got something to do.” You nodded.
“Do you want me to come with you?” His head shook back and forth in denial.
“No, I need to do this alone. I’ll be back soon. Whenever I get back you better be asleep in that bed.” He pointed at the door to his room. He walked up next to you, wrapping his arm around the front of your waist and giving you a kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back, doll. I’ve just got a few things to wrap up.”
He left soon after, leaving you alone in his barren apartment. It was easy to see that he hadn’t made it his home. Probably feeling like he had no reason to, no ties to anyone here. Makes it easier when you have to bug out in a pinch. You walked into his room, searching for a shirt to wear to bed. Finding one of his shirts hanging in his closet, you pulled it over your head after removing your bra. You took off your jeans, trading them for your sleep shorts from your bag.
You climbed into his bed, waiting for his scent to envelope you, but it never came. Has he ever actually slept in this bed? So you laid there, unable to fall asleep, too many thoughts swirling in your brain. How long has Sharon been the Power Broker? Did it start when you first got to Madripoor? Or was it after you were dusted and she was there alone for five years? None of this changed the fact that she needed to be stopped. The amount of influence she had was too great. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the bed, so you rolled over to pick it up.
Court hearing with the Senators tomorrow at 8 A.M. for you. -Sam
You thought about the possibility of being welcome back into your own country and not being treated like a criminal. Thought of the possibility of going to work for the government again. Of working with Bucky and Sam. Of being with Bucky without having to look over your shoulder all the time, and it made you smile. Your phone buzzing brought you out of your trance.
Also, you and Bucky need to come to my house tomorrow. Sarah’s throwing a party, they got the boat finished so we’re celebrating.
That made your smile grow, you were happy for the first time in a long time. The lock of the front door clicked and you jumped out of the bed, grabbing your knife, ready for an attack. You waited behind the door to Bucky’s bedroom, then swung it open. Your hand came up to the intruder's throat and your mind switched out of attack dog mode when you saw Bucky’s raised brow.
“Is there a reason for this?” His eyes were red and he had tear stains on his cheeks. You flipped your knife back down and placed it on top of your jeans.
“Sorry. Are you okay, James?” He shook his head and you opened your arms to him. He walked into your embrace, before exhaling harshly into your uninjured shoulder.
“No, but I will be.” He backed away for a second, taking in your form. “Didn’t I tell you that you were supposed to be asleep when I got back? Also, is that my shirt?”
“Yes, you did and yes, it is. Do you have an issue with that, Sergeant?” He quickly shook his head back and forth, leaning down to pick you up by your thighs and tossing you onto his bed.
“Not at all, doll. You look better in it than I do.” He smiled at you as he stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed with you. Bucky tossed his arm over your waist, pulling your body into his. He sighed contentedly, basking in the way you smelled.
“Sam got me a hearing for a pardon.”
“Oh yeah? When’s that?” Bucky’s voice was muffled because he had buried his face in your neck, peppering small pecks there.
“Tomorrow morning at nine. Are you going to come?” Bucky thought on it for a moment, before shaking his head.
“I have one more thing to take care of.” You nodded.
“They got the boat fixed and Sarah invited us to the party. Sam says we have to go, it’s tomorrow too. I don’t actually know what time though he didn’t say.”
“Alright, I’ll pick something up to bring after I finish my thing.” You turned to face him, a smirk plastered on your face.
“So, Sergeant does it for you?” You giggled as he groaned and removed his arm from your waist. His hand came up to run through his hair, scratching his head
“Are we doing this right now, Y/N?” You released a cackle of a laugh, nodding in response. “Oh that’s how you’re gonna play this?” He attacked your sides, beginning to tickle you causing you to react accordingly. Somehow, he managed to end up on top of you, in between your thighs. He stopped suddenly to watch as you writhed and giggled.
“What?” You started getting self-conscious, afraid that there was something on your face. Your hands came up to hide your face from him, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He took your hands away from your face by trapping your wrists beside your head. “What? Why are you doing that?” You questioned, only halfway serious.
“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that soon turned into something else. His hands traveled back down to your sides, resting on the bare skin showing from your shirt having ridden up. The temperature difference shocked you enough to make you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, escalating the situation.
Your hands came up to the back of his head, holding him in the kiss, guaranteeing that he wasn’t going anywhere. They made their way down his body to rest on his shirtless back. He pushed forward with his hips, the fabric separating the two of you becoming increasingly annoying. Bucky pulled back slightly, nudging you to open your eyes. There was a silent interaction between the two of you in that moment, neither of you was ready for anything intense, so the momentum slowed, but the energy level remained.
Bucky’s hands never left your body that night. Exploring and memorizing every ridge, every stretch mark, every piece of you that made you, you. You drifted your fingers over the scarred skin next to his arm, tiny feather touches that made him hum. Falling asleep in his arms was the easiest thing you ever had to do. And for Bucky, being able to hold you as you flutter asleep was beautiful. He watched as your face relaxed and all the tension left your body, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. Bucky didn’t like to admit it, but he was a touch starved human being. All those years in and out of cryo and isolation gave his body plenty of reason to crave genuine human touch. And to have a human as charming and annoying as you was a dream come true, his doll.
You woke up before Bucky the next morning. You looked over at his face, tranquility lacing his features, unburdened with no glorious purposes. He was just your James. The two of you had separated sometime during the night, so you scooted closer to his frame. His metal arm is thrown across the pillow behind your head, giving you perfect access to his neck and chest. You glanced at the clock across the room, the hands telling you that it was seven thirty in the morning. If you wake him now, you could have at least thirty-five minutes of bliss, plus some heavy petting if you both were feeling cheeky.
You leaned forward towards his neck, placing tiny kisses from the base of his ear to the puckered skin of his shoulder. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t recognize the change in his breathing pattern.
“Good morning, doll.” If you could melt into the mattress, that would’ve done it. His fucking rasp grated you into a fine powder of a human. You hummed at him, not stopping your kisses, instead climbing up to his jaw and then to his lips. He turned his head and playfully laughed. “Nuh-uh, we’ve got morning breath, ya nasty.” You groaned, retreating from his figure completely.
“Fine, we will brush our teeth together and then come right back to this bed and you will love me, damn it.” Bucky laughed at you as you drug yourself into his bathroom. This was the type of bliss you wanted, and you only wanted to share it with a particular metal armed super soldier. It didn’t take long to brush your teeth, and you pushed on Bucky’s back to get him into the bed quicker. When he did get back into the bed, he was grumbling.
“I don’t know why we’re getting back in bed, we’re already up now.” He smiled as you glared at him. Bucky’s back was leaned against his headboard, so you swung your leg over his thighs, straddling his lower half. His hands rested on your waist as you brought yours up to the sides of his face.
“You frustrate me.” You said with a loving smile and tone before pecking his lips softly as he laughed. “What time do you have to leave for your thing?” You played with the strings of your sleep shorts as he answered you.
“Around eight-thirty, it takes me about thirty minutes to get there and it doesn’t open until nine.”
“I’m gonna be leaving around then, too. What do you wear when you’re going in front of senators to be pardoned for stealing a metal frisbee?” Bucky huffed a laugh, pulling you closer to him wrapping his arms around your back. “I’m thinking a crop top that says “Fuck You,” would that be too obvious?”
“Yeah, that one might be a little on the nose.” Bucky checked your shoulder as he spoke. “Your shoulder looks good, no infection, thanks to me.” He plastered a wide smile on his face afterwards. “Do you know what time Sharon’s hearing is?” You stiffened slightly at the mention of Sharon.
“Uh, no. Sam just told me my time and I haven’t talked to Sharon.” Bucky’s head tilted.
“Everything okay on that front?”
“Not really?” You went back and forth on what to tell him. You didn’t want to give him the extra burden of knowing what Sharon was. “We had a fight a few days ago and neither one of us has cooled off about it, so that’s a bit rocky.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, so Bucky just held you tighter. “Okay, you don’t have to.” He held you for a few more minutes, before backing away. “Alright we need to get ready.” You groaned, slackening your body, making everything about you dead weight.
“No. I don’t wanna.” You sounded like a child.
“You sound like a child.” Oh you whore, get out of my head, butt munch. Bucky said, pushing your body off his. He walked to his closet as you laid spread out like a starfish on his bed. Bucky had already picked out a shirt and put on pants whenever he walked back in and you were still laid on his bed.
“You’re gonna be late.” He leaned over your head, appearing to you upside down. His arms were resting on either side of your face, dropping down he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You’ve got to get up, Y/N.” He went to the other end of the bed, where your feet dangled off the edge. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you, you slid off the bed, taking the comforter with you. “Oh my god, this is pitiful, Y/N. You’re a grown woman!” Bucky shouted at you as he left the room.
The two of you parted ways after you got dressed, but not before Bucky wrapped his arm around the front of your waist and placed a kiss on your temple. You wondered why he did that so much, but you weren’t going to argue with the attention because you loved it. You walked up to the extravagant building that was bustling with people. Everything was white, you always wondered why that was. White represented innocence and America was anything but innocence. You ended up wearing your casual clothes for two reasons. One, you were being pardoned, why couldn’t you be comfortable for that? And two, you had somewhere to go after this and that was just as important as this court meeting to you. Walking into the courtroom, you took in all the faces in the seats. Your name was called immediately, so you approached the podium.
“Ms. Y/L/N, on behalf of the United States Intelligence Community, I’d like to offer you and your family our sincerest apologies.” You wanted to scoff, but you bit your tongue. “You’ve always been an incredible asset to our country. Today, we begin to set things right. We begin to repay some of the debt that is owed to you.” You bowed your head.
“Thank you, Senator. It’s been a long time coming.” You could see the Senator’s jaw clench, not used to being brushed off.
“And we’d like to offer you a full pardon. There might be an opening in your old division. Is that something that you’d be interested in?”
“Actually, Senator. I would like to thank you for that opportunity, but no. I’ll be working with Captain America.” The man’s whole body seemed to twitch.
“You aren’t authorized to make that kind of decision, Ms. Y/L/N.” This time you did scoff.
“Yeah, okay. Well thanks for the pardon.” You tapped the podium twice, leaning to walk away. “This has been great, I really feel like we’ve both said our peace. See ya later, Senator.” You walked out as you heard him calling your name. You pulled your phone out, dialing Bucky’s number.
“Hey doll! How’d court go?” You started walking to where you and Bucky had planned to meet after you got done with your respective tasks.
“Oh great! I’m working with Cap now.” You could almost see Bucky’s face.
“Wow, how’d you manage that?” You smirked.
“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, James.”
“Oh is that so, Y/N?” You could hear his smirk as he spoke. “Maybe you’ll have to be persuasive with me one day.” You laughed.
“James, I don’t have to be persuasive with you.” You caught sight of Bucky walking down the street with a store-bought cake in his hand. You held up your pinky finger wiggling it for emphasis, “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”
By the time you got to the marina that docked Paul & Darlene, you were buzzing with excitement. Bucky was giggling at your antics, you were practically bouncing in the passenger seat. As soon as Bucky got out of the car, Cas and AJ latched onto him. He went along with them, playing as if he was going to slam the cake into their faces. You walked past Bucky, hugging everyone who greeted you. Once you reached Sarah, you sat down on the picnic table for a second before taking off again. You stood to the side as you watched Sam take picture after picture with pretty much everyone from town.
Bucky stood next to you, chuckling about everyone’s reaction to Cap being from their hometown. One woman almost knocked Sam flat on his ass when she hugged him, a huge smile stretched over her face. You went back to the table Sarah was at, taking a seat next to her. Suddenly Bucky climbed on top of the table, holding his vibranium arm out with two children dangling off it. He was talking animatedly with his other as he told a story about Sam. You had zoned out just staring at him with the kids.
“You know, this could be you.” Sarah said as she leaned next to your ear.
“What could be?” You made a face at her.
“The kids, the community.” She looked over at Bucky, “That hunk of a man over there.” You slapped her shoulder softly before humming.
“I’ve thought about it, but that’s a two person decision and I don’t think either of us are at a point in our lives to raise another tiny human.” Sarah nodded, her features disbelieving.
“Just don’t let that one get away.” Her finger was pointed at Bucky who was playing with the kids at the edge of the dock. Bucky must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looked up, removing his dark sunglasses to lock eyes with you.
“Oh I don’t plan on it.” You smiled at her. You joined Bucky and Sam as they stood in front of Paul & Darlene, taking in the sunset reflecting on the water. Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. You definitely don’t plan on it, you thought to yourself as you leaned into his embrace.
**********************
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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1
a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.
and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol
word count: 17k
warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.
fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist
“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.
“Six please,” her soft voice replies.
Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.
“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.
She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”
“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.
“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.
“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.
“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.
Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.
The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.
“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”
Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.
Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.
“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.
But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.
“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.
Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.
Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.
“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”
“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”
Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.
She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.
Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.
He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.
To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.
“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”
“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”
“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.
The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.
“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.
Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.
As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.
Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!
“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.
“Yes?” She responds.
“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.
“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.
“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”
“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”
Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.
He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.
Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.
Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.
“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.
“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.
“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.
“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.
“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”
“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.
“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”
Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.
“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.
“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.
“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.
“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.
“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”
“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.
Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.
“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.
She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.
“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.
“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.
Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.
“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”
Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.
“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.
He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.
Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.
Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.
She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.
“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.
“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.
“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.
“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”
“Yeah there is when-“
“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.
“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.
“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.
“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.
“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”
“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.
“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.
“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.
“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.
“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.
“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.
“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.
“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”
“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.
“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.
“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.
“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.
Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.
And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.
By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.
“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.
“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”
“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.
“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”
“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”
Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.
“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.
“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.
“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.
“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.
“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”
“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.
“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.
“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.
“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.
“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.
“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.
“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.
“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”
“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.
The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.
At least it wasn’t snowing.
The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.
“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.
“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.
“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.
Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.
“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.
Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.
When she arrived at Gucci it was just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.
“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.
“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.
“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.
“Your boss?” Harry questions.
“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.
“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.
Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”
“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.
“No, I do,” she corrects him.
The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.
“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.
“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.
“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.
“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.
“Of course,” Harry nods.
Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”
“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.
“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.
He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.
“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.
“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.
“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.
“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”
“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.
Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.
“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.
“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.
“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.
“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”
“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.
“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.
Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.
“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.
“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.
“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.
“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.
Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.
“I’d love a glass, thanks.”
“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”
“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.
Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.
“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.
“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and end up not having a glass herself.
Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.
“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.
“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.
“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.
“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.
“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.
“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“
“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.
“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.
“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.
“I wanted to be a princess-“
“Me too,” Harry says.
“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling. “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“
“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.
“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”
Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.
Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“
“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.
My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.
Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?
“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.
“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”
Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”
Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”
“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”
“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.
“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.
“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.
“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.
“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.
“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”
“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.
“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.
“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.
“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.
“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”
“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”
Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.
“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.
“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”
“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.
“Not particularly,” Harry says.
Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.
“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.
While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.
Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.
Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.
“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.
There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.
“Y/N?”
She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.
It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.
“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.
“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.
“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.
“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.
“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.
“It's rather pretty.”
“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”
“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”
“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.
“Did you want to head home?”
“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.
“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.
“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.
Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.
“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.
“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.
“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.
“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.
Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.
Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.
“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.
“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”
“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.
“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.
“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.
She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.
She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.
“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”
Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.
“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.
“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.
“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”
“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”
“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.
Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.
“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.
“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.
“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”
“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.
The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.
After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?
Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.
It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.
Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.
“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.
“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”
“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.
They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.
He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.
Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.
“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.
“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.
“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.
“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.
Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.
“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”
Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.
Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.
Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.
“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.
“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.
“Do much without me?” Mark asks.
Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever.
>> part two <<
thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘
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#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles angst#boyfriend!harry#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles concept#harry styles prompt#1dff#cstsyl
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I Got Everything I wanted...
Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...
Pairing: Vision x Male Reader
Taglist: N/A
‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.
Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife
Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)
Word count: 4k+
Word Key:
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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.
"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"
"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"
---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---
For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.
It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.
🎵Oh~
A newlywed couple just moved into town,
A regular husband and husband,🎵
Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.
🎵Who left the big city,
To find a quiet life,
(Male Name)Vision!🎵
Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.
🎵He's a magical boy,
In a small town locale
And a hubby who's part machine,
How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵
Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.
🎵Oh, by sharing a love,
Like you've never seen
(Male Name)Vision!🎵
---SCENE CHANGE---
The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.
"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.
"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.
He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.
"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.
"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.
You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"
"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"
"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.
"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.
Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"
"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.
"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"
He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"
"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."
You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.
You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.
"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.
"Also don't forget-"
"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"
You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.
Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.
Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.
"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.
"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.
"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers
"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.
"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"
"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)
'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.
You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-
"Oh no, I'm not single I-"
"Well I don't see a ring
"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.
"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.
"Well, no and no"
"An anniversary then?"
"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.
Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.
"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.
"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"
"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"
"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.
"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.
-----Time Skip---
Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.
"Vision residence how may I help you"
"(Male Name), darling I-"
"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.
"Listen about tonight-"
You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"
"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.
"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.
"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."
The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.
"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.
'Wait what' you think to yourself
"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.
Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."
"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.
"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.
"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.
---Time Skip, Later Tonight---
Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.
The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.
"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.
Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"
You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-
"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.
"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.
Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.
"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.
"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.
"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.
"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.
"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.
"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"
You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.
"Who are those people?!"
"What are you wearing!?"
"Why are they here?"
"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly
"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"
"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child
"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.
You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"
Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"
"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.
"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.
---Time Skip---
After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.
You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"
"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"
"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"
"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"
"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"
Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"
"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"
"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"
"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.
But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.
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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this
#Vision x male reader#Vision#Fanfiction series#Wandavision fandom#Wandavision episode 1#marvel#wandavision spoilers#vision x male wanda reader#(y/n)Vision#Vision(y/n)#male reader x vision#male wanda reader x vision#male#reader#wandavision episode 2#wandavision episode 3#wandavision episode 4#wandavision episode 5#vision#1950#1940#tv show#tv series#(male name) x vision#vision x (male reader)#(male reader) insert#(male reader)
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for the youtube thing can u plese do the mouth to mouth challenge, i really want u to write it cause u r like the best writer ever , way better then me
TH’s YouTube Extras: Mouth to Mouth Challenge
a/n: you are too sweet gosh asdfghjkl thank you angel. i hope you enjoy this lovely! ❤ oh and it’s suggestive in some parts but not much hehe.
☰ youtube channel | recent video
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"Right, mouth to mouth challenge here we go!" Tom rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, gaze set on the camera as a wide grin played on his lips. "We each have to take the opposite sides of the food in our mouths and the first one to do as much as look away, loses the round. The overall loser gets to do a forfeit which will be decided by the boys."
You and Tom were both sitting side by side on the couch and much like before, the camera right in front. Harry was right behind it and this time he was joined by Tuwaine. Harrison was MIA given that he had errands to attend to.
"You seem a bit too excited," you teased.
Tom shrugged, turning to you with that charming grin. "I get to be so close to you and stare into those lovely, beautiful eyes, of course I'm excited."
"As if you don't already do that on a daily," you pointed out, amusement laced in your tone as you shook your head at your man.
"Yeah, I do. But I can never get enough of those gorgeous eyes, darling," he gushed, brown orbs glowing with adoration when it locked with yours, Tom flashing you that bright smile of his you always adore.
You beamed at him with a soft giggle, shaking your head before turning to the camera to shoot it a sympathetic smile. "He's just a walking ball of cheese guys, I apologise," you joked.
"As if she doesn't love it," Tom scoffed with a playful roll of his eyes, giving the camera a look before turning back to you. "Let's get into it shall we?"
"Let's."
Tom held his hand out. "First up," he paused, catching the candy—not so smoothly—that Tuwaine threw and then presenting it towards the camera. "Kit Kat."
"Break it like a sane person, Holland," you warned, Tom's laugh booming soon after your comment.
He knows how to eat a Kit Kat obviously, he does have brain cells. But other times when he feels like being an extra little shit, he breaks the bar the opposite direction on how you're supposed to, leaving you with uneven Kit Kat pieces. It honestly drives you up the wall all the damn time, Tom saying how he finds it so cute how you get riled up by a candy bar, hence why he does it whenever he can. It's one of the many ways he uses to press your buttons, all from love and affection of course.
Placing the tip of Kit Kat between his teeth, Tom leaned back on the couch, arm resting behind you as he shot you a nod. You moved closer, hand rested on his thigh as you took the opposite side. You two moved closer in fits of giggles as you ate the candy little by little, eyes locked securely that it was hard to determine on who would give up first. That until Tom decided to play dirty, literally.
He started groaning and moaning in a hush manner, pretending to enjoy the chocolate a bit too much. But you know what he was trying to do and given the proximity that you two are in, you can hear the sounds he was making very clearly and it was very distracting. It was when he shot you a wink that you pulled away, shaking your head to rid of the heat that coated your face.
Tom ate the rest of the chocolate with a hearty laugh. "I'd win this on a streak," he said smugly.
"Stop making those sounds Thomas," you complained in a whisper, Tom turning his head to look at you, acting all oblivious even though he knows what you meant.
"What sounds?"
You rolled your eyes.
A thought crossed your mind once you saw the next candy that Tuwaine tossed. You hummed to yourself with a nod. If Tom was going to play dirty then, might as well give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Sour belt this time," Tom said, showing the camera the candy over his palm like it's a make-up product. He did the same as before and placed the end of the strip between his lips.
Hand still firmly on his thigh, you started at the bottom since the candy was hanging down Tom's chin, keeping your gaze locked with his. Tom's eyes followed your form as you lowered yourself, orbs looking up at him with that all too familiar gloss. You darted your tongue out to take the candy between your lips before they started to move in a way that made Tom's insides churn. You looked at him through your lashes as you ate the candy inch by inch, giving his thigh a pointed squeeze. Tom choked in a breath at the sight, dropping the belt as he looked away with a low growl before things start to escalate in his head, knowing he can't hide it in his sweatpants.
A cheer erupted out of you as you sat straighter and turned to the camera, candy in mouth with both your hands thrown up in the air. "Point for me!" you laughed once you've eaten all of it.
Tom shook his head, gaze trained on the ground since his cheeks were now coated with a deep shade of red. "Not fair," he grumbled, the hand he had behind you picking at the material of the couch to distract his mind.
"What? I wasn't doing anything wrong," you hummed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him with a pout.
It was Tom's turn to roll his eyes.
"Okay, last one," Tom said, catching the box of Jaffa cakes easily. He took one out and placed it between his teeth. This time, you had to move even closer to reach him since the length of the cake was much shorter than the previous candies.
As you started to lean in to take the other end, Tom dropped the Jaffa cake at the last minute to give you a loud—and very surprising—peck on your lips. The smack echoed around the room as you stared at him wide-eyed before your brain finally registered what had happened.
"Tom," you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder to hide the embarrassment on your face. Tom lets out a hearty laugh, wrapping his arms around your shoulders with a kiss landing on top of your head.
"She always gets shy whenever I give her random affections in public, or in this case, showing it online," he said towards the camera. "It's so freakin' adorable."
"Such a huge cheeseball," you grumbled before sitting up to meet his eyes. "You dropped the cake so I won. That makes it 2 for 1 so ha! You're doing the forfeit." You stuck your tongue out at him before turning to the camera with a proud glow on your face.
Tom shook his head with an adoring smile as he ogled at you fondly. He loves seeing you win, it's honestly the most endearing thing no matter how little the achievement and it makes him feel like he won himself.
"Totally worth it," Tom chuckled with a shrug.
"Until you see the forfeit," Harry quipped, Tuwaine coming over and handing Tom a glass of a very odd looking liquid.
"Oh no, what's in this?" Tom asked, a sharp grimace coating his face as he took the glass. He gave it a waft, gagging soon after with a look of downright disgust. "Mate, what the fuck is this? You guys trying to kill me or something?"
"It's everything you just ate blended together with a few secret ingredients," Tuwaine laughed.
"Bottoms up, babe," you giggled.
Tom looked at you with a deadpan expression as if to say, "Really?" You only shot him a bright smile, Tom sighing before his gaze landed back on the concoction.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, hand coming up to pinch his nose before he threw his head back and took a big gulp. "It's actually not that bad when you get the smell out of the way," he hummed, smacking his lips as he eyed the drink in his hand.
"You are a weirdo," you laughed with a scrunch of your nose.
"I'm your weirdo," he retorted with a smug grin.
"Can we put a cheese counter in the corner of this video?" you joked.
Tom laughed with a shake of his head. "Well, that was very anti-climatic," he paused, showing the camera a peace sign and adding, "See you on the next one guys!"
Harry threw a thumbs-up to signal cut.
Tearing your gaze away from the camera, you turned to your boyfriend just in the nick of time. "Hey!" You snatched the drink away from Tom when he started to bring it up to his lips again. "What on earth are you doing?"
"It's not that bad, love," Tom chuckled.
"Yeah, until you complain about stomach aches and frequent visits to the toilet," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Standing up from your seat, you jabbed a finger at Tom. "Brush your teeth. No kisses for you until you do so." You raised a knowing brow at him before making your way to the kitchen to get rid of whatever this liquid is.
"Love you!" Tom called out lovingly, your voice echoing from the kitchen soon after.
"Love you too!"
"Ugh, so much cheese in this house it's starting to smell."
"Harry, you've never sounded more single."
"Fuck off, Tom."
-:-:-:-:-
like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed & lemme know your thoughts! <3
♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @blossomparkers @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @perspectiveparker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @fancyxparker @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears ♛ Tom’s YT Shenanigans Taglist: @greatpizzascissorstaco @rosiesimone819 @shawnscxlvins
#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland fluff#tom holland blurb#tom holland one shot#tom holland request#tom holland reader insert#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x youtube#tom holland x female reader#thyt: extras#my writing
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"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 2*
Yes, for two days this is a semi short chapter, but I had another long today and have one more tomorrow and I wanted you to have SOMETHING. Weirdly though I had an entire different chapter written in my head, but when I started typing this came out instead. My original idea is still coming, this just added a fun little bonus getting there. I promise, tomorrow you will get a longer chapter.
Thank you loves for sticking by me through everything! I love you all.
Also, I'm finally using CHAPTER. I kept wanting to use it instead of PART but I just kept writing PART and was like WELP. But they're chapters, right?!
Ok I'll shut up.
Part 1 Here
Part 3
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
And @storiesofsvu for Rita check. lol.
----------------------------------------
When five o’clock rolled around, Rita came walking out of her office with a stack of papers and her briefcase, balancing her purse on her barely free arm.
“Y/N, Why are you still here? Did I not unlock your chains?” She laughed.
“Haha….no, ma’am” You nervously laughed. “I um, I think I’m waiting for someone,”
“You think?” She raised a curious eyebrow. “If you’re waiting on Barba, you’re going to waiting a long time, sweetie,”
“Wha-? How--? Why, exactly?” You asked her totally flabbergasted by the insinuation that not only had Rafael asked you out, but was bailing already.
“He tends to get a little...involved, in his cases. Poor man is a workaholic,” She feigned pity for him.
“Right,” You nodded to her comically overflowing briefcase and papers. “Something you know nothing about,”
“Touché,” She winked. “I’d give him a call, make sure he hasn’t forgotten about you, dear. Before the cleaning staff shows up,” She laughed and sauntered out of her office, leaving you alone in the dark.
You glanced down at your phone. He hadn’t really specified a time, just-- “Tonight”. What did that even mean? Tonight. Like early evening dinner, or a midnight snack after he was done with his cases? You should probably text him. Or call him. Or text him.
TO BARBA: Heyyy….
Wait. Was three y’s too many? Wasn’t that a rule? You show affection by how many y’s you use? Is that a thing kids do these days? Wait, no you’re not a kid. And he certainly was NOT a kid. No. Be a grown up about this.
TO BARBA: Hi I’m just...checking in.
Checking in? What did that even mean? And why the ellipsis? There doesn’t need to be a pause in a text. That’s why it’s a text. You pause in your mind before typing. Idiot.
TO BARBA: What’s up?
Ok. Short and simple. To the point. No pressure, no demanding. Just... ‘checking in’. You hated yourself. Alright fine, good enough send it. SEND IT. HIT SEND NOW.
MESSAGE SENT.
Your phone shook in your trembling hand as you waited for the ellipsis of him writing back. That was too much, no no just put it back in your pocket and he’ll text you when he--
BARBA CALLING
Oh god, a phone call? Who calls people anymore? Grown ups, that’s who. Answer the phone like an adult.
“H-Hello?” You answered it as if he had the wrong number.
“Hey, Cinderella,” His smooth voice came through your earpiece. “I’m so sorry, I should have been more specific about the time,”
“Oh, yeah no-- no big deal, I’m just here at work….alone, in the dark…” You muttered the last words to yourself as you looked around the dark office.
“Right. Well, I’m kind of wrapped up in this case right now--” He started, making your heart drop. Well, Rita called it. He’s just married to his job, no time for women, let alone you. Time to just--
“....Would you hate me if I asked you to come help me?”
“...I’m sorry, what?” You blinked in confusion at your phone. So, was he actually asking you out or trying to snake you as an assistant from Rita? Is that what he meant by ‘dinner’? “Hey come bring me food and help me file these cases, because I’m so sexy and cocky and--”
“You know what, I’m so sorry I just heard how that sounded. You’ve been doing this all day, the last thing you wanna do is come--”
“Sure!” You cut him off a little loudly. What were you doing?! You’re just going to lay down and let him use your services for free? Well, when you put it that way it sounded pretty skeezy about yourself.
“....Are you sure? Because we can just have dinner another night--”
“....Yeah I have a feeling that will never happen,” You cut him off with a laugh.
“Wha--no, it will! I just--”
“Your wife comes first, I get it,” You cut him off again.
“My wife?”
“Yeah you’re married to your work,” You smirked into the phone.
“Wow, quippy Cinderella. Guess you’re more confident on the phone without my gorgeous face tripping you up now, aren’t you?”
“Do you want my help or not, Casanova?” He was totally right; without those green emeralds staring into your soul you were actually a pretty funny and smart person. Maybe it would be better to just have this date on the phone.
"Yes, absolutely," He sighed with a smile.
“Did you want me to bring food, or am I just supposed to eat paperclips and vending machine leftovers??”
“I’ll order some pizza, do you like pizza?”
“....I live in New York Barba. Obviously I like pizza,” You teased.
“Right,” He chuckled. “Well I’ll be here--”
“I know where your office is,” You cut him off for the third time.
“Oh, do you?” He asked in a sneaky tone, as if he thought you’d been googling him or something.
“Um, yeah,” Your voice fell an octave softer. “Actually I’ve been there several times, dropping off stuff from Rita for you,” Of course he wouldn’t remember that. Why would he remember that? You weren’t anything special.
“Shit,” He muttered as if chastising himself. “Y/N I’m so sorry, I--”
“It’s fine,” You assured him as you headed down to the subway. “I’m uh, I’m getting on the train so I’ll see you soon,” You hung before he could reply.
--------------
It wasn’t that far to Rafael’s office from Rita’s, just a few stops away. You quickly hurried up the stairs back into the Manhattan air as you swiftly walked through the sea of people leaving corporate America to go home to Suburbia. Finally you reached the building, went for the door and-- it was locked.
Well of course it was locked, nobody else in their right mind would be here this late-- so clearly you and Rafael were out of your minds. Shit. Should you call him? Was there a buzzer? Before you could think of another solution a pizza delivery man was walking up to you. Maybe ‘man’ was too generous, he was probably around 16 or 17.
“Delivery for Mr. Barba,” He handed you the pizza. Did you look like a “Mr. Barba” to him?!
“I um,” You stammered as the hot pizza burned the sides of your arms you were holding it on. “I’m not Mr. Barba,”
“Are you taking it to him?” He asked you with a slight attitude.
“I um,” You thought a moment. Well you were going to see him, so yes theoretically you would be taking the pizza with you to him. “...Yes,”
“That’ll be 46.57.” He whipped out a credit card scanner on his phone.
“E-Excuse me?” You were taken aback. Now Barba had you buying him dinner? And what kind of pizza costs basically 50 bucks?!
“2 Large pizzas, an order of cheesy bread, a dessert pizza and delivery fee,” The kid read off the receipt from his phone. “I only accept credit or debit cards, and please tip generously,”
“Yeah right,” You muttered with a roll of your eyes as you pulled out your credit card and swiped it across his phone. The light turned green and a receipt printed off an attachment to his phone. He ripped it off and handed it to you, then nonchalantly walked back down the stairs to wherever he was parked.
“Awesome,” You sighed. You still didn’t know how to get inside, and now you were carrying all this hot food. All of this for a pair of green eyes?!
To make matters worse, your phone started going off in your purse. You groaned and tried to put all of the boxes down softly, but the night wind blew them onto the pavement, HARD.
“Shit!” You groaned louder as you tried to salvage the food while pulling your phone from your purse. Of COURSE.
BARBA CALLING
“I can’t get in,” You simply stated as a greeting on the phone.
“What?”
“I can’t get in the building, Barba,” You grumbled, now on a 8 on the annoyance scale.
“Oh! Oh God,” The line went dead. Awesome.
After a few minutes while you were trying to rebalance all of the boxes in your arms, one of the big glass doors swung open right into you. The boxes all pressed against you, their hot, saucy, cheesy and chocolatey goodness smearing all over your work outfit.
“SHIT!!!!!!” You screamed in horror.
“Oh my god, Oh god Y/N I am SO--” Rafael started to apologize profusely, but you noticed he was trying his best not to burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?!” You asked angrily while you peeled a pepperoni from your hair.
“No, not at all,” He shook his head vigorously, but kept giggling behind his eyes.
“You do!” You stomped your heel, causing marinara to roll down your legs. “You are absolutely laughing at me being covered in all of your stupid food that I had to pay for by the way--”
“Oh no, really?” He suddenly turned sincere.
“No, Rafael,” You scoffed as you tried pulling cheese from your skirt. “I just had sex with him in the parking lot and we called it square,”
“Really--?!”
“NO NOT REALLY!”
“Okay! Okay I’m sorry, really I am,” Rafael tried to show you sympathy, but you looked so damn cute covered in a tasty meal.
“Yeah I can see that, you’re grinning like a five year old,” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m sorry, Y/N I really am,” He gave up trying to hide a laugh. “But you have to admit it’s pretty funny--”
“I DON’T THINK--” You started to scream at him again, but his smile made these cute little crinkles in his eyes, and his laugh was like an angel’s chorus. You might have been covered in food, but you would be covered in manure if it made him laugh like that.
“For what it’s worth, you look delicious,” He teased you, pulling an actual full piece of pizza from your chest and biting it.
“Oh my god, you’re so gross,” You did your best not to laugh, you were still supposed to be angry.
“Yum, Y/N flavor, my favorite,” He laughed for a moment just as you both realized what he had said. “Uh, I mean--” He looked away in embarrassment, and you swear you saw his face flush red.
“Um no counselor,” You bit your lip with a smile. “I’m pretty sure I taste better than a mix of pizza sauce and chocolate,”
“I’m sure you do,” Rafael bravely retorted, now that he knew you were in the playing mood.
“....But seriously, now I have to go home and get this shit off--”
“I have a shower in my office,” He blurted out.
“....Excuse me?” You blinked, not believing you heard him right.
“I...I have a shower in my office,”
“Oh my god, Rafael Barba are you that addicted to work that you live here?”
“No!” He rolled his eyes. “It’s for emergencies,”
“Emergencies? Like what?”
“Like a beautiful woman covered in pizza toppings and chocolate,” He smirked. “Now come on, I don’t want anyone around here thinking I’m dating a crazy person,” He opened the glass doors again and escorted you into the lobby of the building.
Your mind didn’t know what to focus on first; the fact that he had this mysterious office shower, that he had offered for you to use said shower, or the fact that he just referred to you as a ‘woman he was dating’. You just followed him silently into his office with a smitten grin on your face.
He wasn’t lying when he was in the ‘middle’ of something. Papers were strewn all about his desk, a white board with bullet points for arguments and cross examinations scribbled on it. You finally got a good look at him without the anger of having food all over your judgement. He looked tired, not the usual smooth and pristine Rafael Barba you were used to. But when he looked back at you to show you where his shower was, his green eyes sparkled gazing into yours.
“So, I have some spare suits in a closet here, would you mind hanging out in one of my dress shirts while I wash...these?” He gestured to your dirty clothes. Wait, wash?
You suddenly realized he had led you into a secret room to the side of his office, behind a bookcase.
“Wha…” You looked around the room. There was a shower, a wardrobe, a washer/dryer combo, and a suit steamer. “Jesus Barba, are you sure you don’t live here?”
“No I promise I don’t,” He shook his head with a laugh. “...But I may have on occasion fallen asleep here enough to invest in this,”
“And what happens when this office is passed on to a new ADA?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Then I’m sealing this place off like a mausoleum,” He stated very seriously, causing you to giggle. He loved your giggle, it was so small and soft, just like you.
“Anyway,” He shook off his momentary daze at your giggle hoping you didn’t notice. “Like I said-- Shower, dress shirt. Just put your dirty clothes in the washer and we’ll pop them in the dryer later,”
“Right,” You nodded, definitely having noticed his dreamy stare at your giggle. How had you gone from completely under his radar to making him giddy like a school boy in two days?
“Right,” He nodded back. “I’ll just be out here...ordering another pizza,” He smirked. “By the way, I’ll totally reimburse you for the one you’re wearing,” He stuck his tongue out at you with a huge grin.
“Oh you better,” You gave him the same face back. “Or I’ll cover you in it,” You lightly pressed a marinara sauce covered finger into his perfectly white dress shirt. He glanced down at it in horror.
“Oh that was so--” He started to tickle and attack you, but realized that would only make his outfit dirtier. “This isn’t over,” He wagged a finger at you as he pointed you to the shower. You gave him one last cheeky smile as he walked out and shut the door to his secret room.
What was happening? Why were you getting to him so easily, so fast? How could he have not even remembered that he had ‘met’ you several times? Well, one thing was for sure. He was never going to forget this night.
#rafael barba#rafael barba imagine#rafael barba fanfiction#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction#not my yacht
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Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 4)
Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader
Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.
Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence
Part 4 Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful
Taglist!: @vicmc624
Read Part 1; Masterlist
The icon that marked where you were currently typing in your text blinked as you bit your lip. Looking back from where you were sitting at the kitchen table, you took stock of the open pantry once again. You were low on just about everything. With physical therapy exhausting your shoulder, it was hard to find the energy to lift any heavy bags. You had texted Sam for help, but unfortunately he was out of state.
“Bucky’s home, just ask him to go with you. He won’t mind” He had texted back.
You slouched back into the chair and groaned. You had only seen him in passing since he had helped you with the furniture. What was he, your live-in-caretaker? Was he just there to help you up and down the stairs and help you across the street? Sliding onto the floor, you made a small grunt as you felt your back straighten out and adjust to the floor. Resting a moment, you held your phone up and stared at the blinking bar. You hadn’t texted him before. Should you just call him? Or knock on his door? Ugh, why was this so hard. Whatever.
“Hey Bucky, I’m having trouble carrying stuff right now. Would you mind helping me out with grocery shopping sometime today or tomorrow? If not, no worries.”
Without a second thought, you sent it and set your phone down next to you. It was around 1PM, the only thing you having done up until then was getting dressed while sipping on coffee. Opting for a lazy look, you had worn soft leggings with an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. Two simple braids and a headband kept your hair out of the way for when you eventually practiced. Only a few more weeks until you practiced with the actual orchestra. You should probably figure out something to wear besides lounge clothes.
The buzz on the floor caught your attention and you took a peak at your home screen
1 New Message:
Bucky Barnes: Sure, is now good?
Shoot. You quickly got up and walked to the bathroom. Your hair wasn’t too messy. Why do you look so tired? Opting for some mascara, you texted Bucky back before digging around in your makeup bag.
Yeah, meet at my car in a minute?
---
Bucky pocketed his phone and took a quick look in the mirror. Should he shave? Scratching his beard, he made a face before deciding against. It would take him more than a minute. Why didn’t he just say thirty minutes from now? Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed a jacket and walked out of the apartment.
As he walked over the freshly fallen leaves in the driveway, he opted for leaning against your car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head to look out over the water. It had been quiet lately, just chilly enough to silence the summer chorus of buzzing and croaks. Now all that was left was the occasional honking of geese flying overhead.
He had only been there for a couple of minutes when you came out onto the porch. You had hastily thrown on some brown leather boots, the left one still untied. The little bit of mascara and lip gloss you put on made you feel better about not looking like death. It was nice to do a little something, even if it was just the grocery store.
“Hey!” you said, slightly breathless as you bounded down the stairs, keys jingling in your hand.
Bucky echoed your greeting back to you with a small smile and wave.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You said, clicking the key fob to unlock the car.
“Oh it’s no problem. I didn’t really have much to do anyway.” He said, ducking his head to sit in the passenger side seat. He noticed how as soon as you closed the door, you clicked the locks shut. Then you brought your left heel up on the edge of the seat so that you could tie your shoe.
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. Usually, I don’t need too much help, but I need cases of waters and stuff like that. I was gonna get someone to help me at the grocery store but I realized I’d still be left in a lurch once I got home. I figured if you needed, we could just get groceries together this time,” you explained while double knotting the laces.
Starting the car and putting on your seatbelt, you looked behind you out of habit to make sure you weren’t going to hit anything as you backed out of the driveway.
“Huh. It looks like it’s going to rain.” You said, observing the darker clouds and the wind picking up. Putting the car in drive, you started down the driveway.
“Music?” You offered, gesturing towards the radio.
“I don’t really know what’s been playing these days… or for the last sixty years if I’m being honest.” At least it’s nice not to have to lie about it, Bucky thought.
“Well, we have a lot to catch you up on then.” You said, stopping at the end of the driveway and grabbing your phone. Scrolling through your music, you hit the bluetooth button on the console.
“This playlist has all my favorite classics on it. Feel free to skip anything you don’t like.” You said, handing him the phone and turning onto the road. The music started, prompting Bucky looked down at the phone. September- Earth, Wind & Fire.
---
Four songs later you were at the supermarket, grabbing a cart and discussing favorites.
“That last one was good too. Which one was that?” Bucky asked.
“That’s Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd. Dave Matthews Band. Now mind you, some of those are way older than others. The only thing they all have in common is that they’re all at least ten years old.”
“Huh.” He’s really missed out on a lot.
The two of you continued chatting as you went through the various sections. A couple cases of water. A bag of salad. Deli meats and cheeses. Bread. Ground beef. Pasta and pasta sauce. The topic turned to older music from Bucky’s time.
“I’m surprised you have heard of her.” He said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“Well, I’m going to be honest, the only reason I have any knowledge of it at all is because I had to take a lot of Music History classes in college. For whatever reason, they thought that to play music, you needed to know every which way that it’s evolved throughout the years. Though, I have to say,” you paused, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, I’m kind of glad I did.” You looked up at him slightly, face just a tad warm as he met your eyes. You both looked away and he coughed awkwardly. Feeling embarrassed, you scan the shelves of snacks before hearing him quietly say behind you-
“… I’m glad you did too. It’s different. And kind of nice to talk to someone about it. Who actually knows what I’m talking about.”
Trying to keep your smile small, you continued to look at the array of cookies on the shelf. A hand passed over your shoulder to take a pack of shortbread cookies.
“Hmm. Shortbreads.” You say, holding your arms behind your back. “Verrry interesting.”
“What?” He replied defensively.
“You can tell a lottttt about a man by his snack preferences.”
“Well, what do shortbreads say?” Bucky asked, leaning his forearms on the handle of the cart so that he was now eye level with you. It was too late this time to hide your smile. You turned back around to grab a pack of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
“If I tell you what they mean, you’ll just pick the kind that you think has the best traits. You’re not fooling me anytime soon.” You said with a laugh before you whisked yourself around the corner.
“Hey, that’s not fair, come back!” He pushed the cart around the corner where he ran into you hugging Sarah. The boys were with her and they went absolutely ballistic.
“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” They shouted as they bombarded him.
“AJ! Cass! Stop acting crazy in the grocery store!” Sarah said, reprimanding them. You chuckled at the sight of Bucky being slowly overwhelmed by the two boys. He pried them off his legs and crouched so that he was eye level with them.
“Hey, I missed you guys. I haven’t seen you guys since the last time Uncle Sam and I came back-”
“-from fighting bad guys, right!” AJ said, getting a little too excited and causing Sarah to give him the look. Bucky tried not to laugh and held a finger up to his mouth to signal that they needed to be quiet.
“Yes, from fighting bad guys.”
You turned towards Sarah with a grin and put your hand on her arm.
“We’ll have to have all of you over, come see the new house. Will you text me a day next week when you, Sam, and the kids are free?”
“That sounds great. I’m so glad you got to move down here. I’ll let you know about next week!” Sarah said. She also walked around the cart and gave Bucky a hug. He returned it but glanced towards you nervously; You were already looking away. When they pulled away from each other, Sarah glanced in your direction and then at Bucky, a knowing smile on her face and eyebrows wiggling. Bucky made a face with wide eyes, letting her know to cut it out. Sarah laughed slightly while saying goodbye:
“It was good to see you, Buck.” Sarah said, laughing as she rolled the cart away, AJ and Cass in tow, who were both shouting goodbyes at Uncle Buck.
“Good to see you too…” He trailed off in her direction.
“Man, those boys really love Uncle Buck.” You said teasingly, making him jump slightly and turn around. You laughed and walked towards the next aisle, leaving Bucky red in the ears.
---
It was just starting to rain when you parked the car in the driveway. You grabbed some of the lighter bags and ran up the steps, hurrying to unlock the door. Bucky was piling on the grocery bags as the rain got heavier. He hauled everything inside as you held the door open for him. He lifted the groceries up onto the kitchen counter and made his way down the stairs again.
“Still have to get the cases of water.” He explained in response to your confused face. The rain was still getting heavier. Hauling the two jumbo cases onto his shoulder and carrying the last one by the plastic in his hand, he made his way up the porch, slower this time. You held the door open, looking incredulously again at how easy it was for him as he passed.
By the time he had set the waters down, you had grabbed a towel for him, extending it to him while looking away at from his drenched shirt.
“Thanks,” he said, toeing off his shoes and drying his hair with the towel before draping it over his shoulders.
“Please, let me make you some tea. You must be freezing.” You said, already digging through the pantry for some.
“Well, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.” He said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
“Yeah, hold on, it’s kind of dark. Let me turn on the lights…” You trailed off as the light switch did nothing. Flicking it a few times back and forth, you sighed.
“I’m so sorry, the real estate agent told me it’s pretty easy to lose power in this area since there’s so many trees. They usually have it back on pretty quick though I’m told.” You said, now digging through another cabinet.
“It’s completely fine, you can’t control that. I’ll just take a raincheck-”
“Found it!” You said, cutting him off and proudly presenting the gas-powered single burner. You set it down in front of Bucky who watched as you also grabbed a tea light and a lighter from in the drawer.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked while lighting it.
---
Three more tea lights and a kettle of hot water later, Bucky was sitting with the towel draped over his shoulders, sipping on the warm cup of green tea. The flames created flickering shadows as you added the pasta to the pot of boiling water.
“I knew this was going to come in handy. I’m glad I saved it.” You said, setting a timer on your phone as you leaned on the counter across from Bucky.
“Why do you have it in the first place?” He asked curiously.
“I kind of had to hop around for a little bit before I got down here. I would stay in hotels but I didn’t want to eat out every night so this came in handy. Ole reliable.” You said, looking down at one of the tea lights.
There was a moment of silence before you pursed your lips.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, setting the cup down.
“Has Sam told you… how I ended up here?” You asked, now looking straight at him. The look on his face told you the answer before he could respond.
“I see…”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I-”
You held up a hand to cut him off, soft smile on your face.
“No, it’s okay. I told him that if it ever came up, he could talk about it. I’m pretty open about it. How much did he tell you?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the cup to absorb some of the warmth.
“Just the basics. You two were together, then he got… violent. And you trying to leave.” He said, looking down into his cup.
“Yeah, that just about covers it… He kept following me after I got out of the hospital so I had to get a rental car and hotel hop for a while… When I got the house down here, I finally got my actual car and just booked it here. He’s never been to Louisiana before and he doesn’t know that Sam lives here now, instead of DC. I’m hoping he’s frolicking in city traffic, getting run over as he looks for me. Bucky snorted and tried not to laugh, which made you laugh.
“Sorry, it’s not funny.” He said, covering his mouth.
“Oh, it totally is.” You said, talking in a way where he could tell that you were smiling.
You both laughed as you grabbed a strainer out of the pantry. Draining the pasta, you both settled into a comfortable silence.
“Well, I’m glad you can joke about it.” Bucky said, watching as you poured pasta sauce into the pot to warm it up before chucking the rest of the pasta in.
“Some days are better than others. I’m just happy that I can stop running. Still, I do get a bit paranoid sometimes. I feel like I’m going to turn a corner and he’ll be right there.” You said, rubbing your arms as if you were comforting yourself. At that moment, Bucky looked at you and noticed for the first time how truly tired you looked. Dark circles underneath a sleep deprived gaze. Eyes clouded by worry and paranoia. Bucky’s seen that look on himself before. Before Steve found him in Bucharest, before he could trust his own mind. When he had to avoid being recognized, avoid being found, avoid falling back into Hydra’s grasp.
You exhaled as you uncrossed your arms, mixing the pot before sprinkling cheese on top. “Dinner’s all done.” Bucky sat peacefully, enjoying the aroma of the tomato and basil. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled before speaking up again.
“Well. I’m here now.”
“Hmm?” You called back, not quite hearing him over the clanking of the bowls you took out.
“I’m here now,” he repeated, this time with more confidence. “So… you don’t have to worry about it. If you ever get worried about it, just call me. Or text me… Or knock on the door… and I’ll talk to you or I’ll check it out, keep an eye on the house from the apartment, or just be in the house with you. It’s not a bother, if it’ll give you peace of mind. I’ve been through something… similar. With, uh, the whole Hydra… thing…” Bucky trailed off as you stared at him with a neutral face. He was getting ready to backpedal, hand reaching for the back of his neck out of nervous habit, until you spoke.
“You’d do that?” You said, face unchanged, eyes searching his.
“Yeah… Yeah, I would.”
You blinked a few times before looking aside and trying to clear the frog from your throat.
“I don’t even know what to say but thank you. That is such a big relief.” You said, voice wavering slightly, one hand coming up to touch your forehead out of relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Nobody should have to go through that alone.” Bucky said softly.
You touched his hand softly, giving it a gentle squeeze before stealing your own back. You turned around to grab a drink when you paused, looking out the window.
“It stopped raining.” You stated, watching as the little bit of sunlight brightened the colors of the changing leaves. Bucky, on the other hand, was watching how the little bit of sunlight brightened you. He rubbed his thumb against where your hand had just been, trying to recreate the feeling of your hand on his.
#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky imagine
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Falling [G.D]
Description: Just when Y/N thought she was over Grayson, he pops back into her life, making her wonder if you could fall for the same person twice. Inspired by ‘Falling’ - Harry Styles.
Warnings: None, Just sad stuff lmao!!!
Word Count: 4K+
Also a special thanks to cole [ @blazedgraysons] for keeping up with my annoying ass questions while I wrote this, and for helping me and giving me advice I love you <333
Her small feet carried her body down the familiar street, cars zooming past her as her body softly bumped into the others around her. The loud sounds from the environment being blocked away by the soft, yet loud music that was coming out of an old pair of Airpods she had gotten for Christmas back in High School.
This was Y/N's daily routine. Get up early in the morning, do her business in the bathroom, get dressed, and walk over to her favorite cafe. The Beachwood cafe had become Y/N's second home ever since she moved to L.A, spending most of her time there, before and after class.
A smile lit up her face as the familiar blue door came into her view, a content sigh falling past her lips as she got closer to the door.
The strong smell of coffee hit her nostrils as she walked inside, music being paused as she walked fully inside, giving her attention to the cashier that greeted her every morning, "Hi Y/N, your stuff is on your table," she smiled up at Y/N before pointing towards her usual table.
It was the one by the window in the corner of the shop, the bright yellow and blue floor illuminated her small journey to the table, where her coffee and breakfast sandwich happily waited for her to approach. She sat down, hand reaching into her Yellow Kanken backpack, another Christmas gift from high school that she dearly took care of, she pulled out a brown journal and a pen.
A journal filled with memories and random thoughts that popped in her head. Y/N thought writing things down was good for the mind and body. She believed that writing things down would help you keep your thoughts safely, and lock memories into place without overworking your mind. A pen that has been through many journeys on the same yet different page.
All pages were the same until the pen went over it, recording things until the end of time. They were all the same until she wrote down her thoughts for the day.
Her small hand gripped onto the pen as she wrote down her thoughts from the previous night, coffee cup in the other hand as she slowly sipped the liquid.
Last night I thought of him again, just until I drifted off. I don't know why. It hasn't happened in months. Nothing bad, just a memoir of all of our memories together. Like the time we broke into the school's pool one night. Where he pushed me in with all my clothes on, then he jumped in and we made out by the stairs. Funny how we never got caught since cameras were around us. Or when we had our senior trips to the mountains in Colorado, and how he kept sneaking into the girls' room just to be with me. We were lucky we didn't get caught again. I tried to not keep thinking about him. I know it's time to finally drop it and move on, but how? How do I erase all those memories from my brain? How am I supposed to just drop it and move along? Just how? I don't need or want to know why just how.
She softly slammed the notebook closed, right before she could feel a slight burning in her eyes and a rock starting to form in her throat. The subject of her and a past lover that she was still holding onto, still being a deep wound to her.
She thought about and remembered Grayson every day. After all, he was her everything during her entire High School life, and he still was…...sort of. Grayson and Y/N started dating in the 9th grade, right about in the middle of the year. He asked her out behind the school's bleachers during lunchtime, a mixture of flowers from his mom's garden that she shyly accepted from him after she said yes. That was followed by their date to the movie theater, where he held her close to him every time she faked being a little scared, not that he could tell, and three dates after he officially asked her out where she said yes again, and that was followed by an accidental kiss, he was leaning towards her cheek when she accidentally moved her head to the side, causing his lips to land on hers. Neither of them complained, just smiled at each other and carried on.
They went on for 6 years, all of high school and two college years, where he decided to break it off because of distance. He went off on how being across the country from one another was hard, and the fact that the time difference from New York to California was 3 and 4. She didn't complain. Didn't give a reason as to why not, even if she had trillions of them. She didn't try to change his mind. She simply said okay, and wished him the best. She still loved him though.
The words that her grandpa had spoken replayed in her brain every time she questioned why she still thought about him; "You never stop loving anyone sugar, you just kinda love someone stronger. If you stop loving them, then you never loved them to begin with" She thought about that, and that made her feel better. Maybe there was someone out there who she would love more than she loved Grayson.
With a quiet sigh, she put her journal away, switching it with a book she picked up at the library a few days prior, yet read a million times.
To Kill A Mockingbird is a book she read many times in school, mostly everyone has. It's the one book from school she actually enjoyed, so she picked it up from the book shop down the street from her apartment before work one day, and didn't get to read it until now.
She opened the book with a small smile, the sensation of the book against her finger bringing nothing but happiness to her, and took her mind off whatever was bothering her. She lost herself in the book, almost done with half of the book before her alarm rang, signaling it was time for work. She left a 20 on the table after putting all her stuff away in her backpack and walking out of the shop and towards her job which was a paid internship at a local hospital downtown, all she did was watch and help out with minor cases like cuts, sprains, X Ray's and the occasional stuff like questioning. She entered the hospital, sanitizing herself and changing into her uniform, walking over to her area, that being the Pediatrics Emergency room where her boss, mentor, whatever you might want to call him, Dr. Reyez, and the rest of the team were waiting for her.
"Morning everyone," she chirped at the tired yet awake health care workers, who all had smiles on their faces. "Morning Y/N, you're going to be practicing by yourself today, can you handle it?" Dr. Reyez asked her, which she just nodded her head with a smile. There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in her brain.
"I'm pretty sure yes! And I can just reach out to you guys if anything, right?"
"Yeah, just page us if anything. Your first patient should be here soon, just go wait by the desk," Reyez instructed her and that's exactly what she did. She sat on the desk for over 20 minutes until someone came in with a toddler covered in rashes.
"Hi baby, I just need to ask you and mommy a few questions, yeah?" She sweetly and patiently asked the 5 year old as his mom was filling out some papers, to which he just nodded his head.
"Okay, Xavion, did you eat something new today? Maybe something you've never eaten?" She asked and both the mom and son nodded their heads.
"Do you think he was allergic to something?" The mom asked, causing Y/N to shrug.
"Well, it depends. We need to get an allergy test for him. It doesn't hurt or anything, we just scratch and pour a drop of the allergen over it and see how they react. Mom, do you happen to remember what he ate today for the first time?" She replied by recording some notes down on her clipboard before telling a nurse to get an Allergy Antibody Test ready.
"He ate everything that he usually does except for some broccoli I gave him," the mom replied and Y/N nodded her head before writing it down on her clipboard and walking them to the testing room.
Once the results came back around half an hour later, Xavion was, in fact, allergic to broccoli, and other things that Y/N had to explain to the mother. She got about 15 minutes of break time before Reyez called her another minor emergency.
"It's an 11 year old, possible breakage or sprain to the leg, you can handle this one right?" He asked and she nodded her head, "Good, they're in room 217, good luck," he added before sending her off to the room.
She quickly made her way over to it, grabbing her clipboard on the way, "Hi, I'm Dr.Y/LN, I'm going to be taking care of you guys today! May I have the child's name and date of birth please?" She nicely asked as she walked inside the room, quickly walking over to the desk area that was in the corner and placing her stuff down.
"Uhhh, Caleb Dolan, August 17, 2008," a deep voice that she could recognize from anywhere spoke as she turned around. Her heart dropped at the sight of Grayson in front of her. She tried to reassemble herself, after all, she couldn't make any mistakes right now, Reyez was trusting her and she couldn't afford to mess the opportunity up.
"Caleb, August 17, 2008," she mumbled as she wrote it down on her piece of paper, "Caleb, do you mind telling me what happened, babe?" She asked with a smile on her face. Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked up at the boy who happened to be in pain.
"Me and uncle Gray were practicing for the soccer game that's next and I fell on the mud and hit my leg really hard," he explained as she walked towards him nodding her head.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, One being okay while 10 being the worst, how would you rate the pain?" She asked, walking over to the walk to grab a pair of gloves, putting them on, and walking back towards him.
"Uhh a seven," he replied and she nodded her head.
"Okay Caleb, just know this might hurt a little okay? It's just protocol to check if it's dislocated, broken, or sprained okay?" She asked and he nodded his head, a few tears falling down his face from fear. Grayson quickly leaned down to wipe off his face whispering a quiet 'you'll be okay' as Caleb grabbed his hand.
"Can you try and move your ankle for me? Just try and move it," she explained and he muttered at quiet yes before moving his foot in a slow circle, she nodded her head before placing both hands over his ankle checking for any bumps, which there were none to find, "Luckily for you Caleb, it's just sprained! There are no bumps meaning it's not dislocated, and you can move it meaning it's not fractured! Just to make sure, we're going to need an X Ray' just to make sure there are no hidden surprises yeah? Dr. Lindsey will do those with you, and I'll be right here when you come back," she smiled up at the boy before Dr. Lindey moved him to a wheelchair and took him to the X Ray room, leaving Y/N and Grayson alone in painful silence.
"So this is what you do? This is where you work?" Grayson was the first to speak after a couple of quiet seconds,
She cleared her throat and nodded her head, placing her hands inside her white jacket, "Yeah. It's a paid internship so it's basically a job, what about you? What are you doing here?" She asked to make direct eye contact with him.
"Moved here after me and E graduated, looking for some roles and an agent," he spoke, his voice not as deep yet shakier than when he first spoke.
"Any luck with that?"
"Yeah. We've landed a few small roles here and there," he answered and she just nodded her head.
"That's good! I'm glad everything's working out for you," She gave him a genuine smile before continuing to fill out Caleb's paperwork.
"Listen, I know it's been 2 years but-," Grayson began to speak before Y/N cut him off. "-Grayson just don't. I'm at work right now, and it's enough seeing you after 2 years, but I don't really need this right now. I'm sorry," She apologized before leaving the room to get some papers before walking back in, thankfully Caleb was already in the room when she walked in.
"I'm going to wrap your ankle up with this and then you're good to go, buddy. Make sure you don't apply pressure on it for two weeks. And carefully when you're playing any sport, I don't want you back here," she said while wrapping his ankle up carefully. She gave Grayson the discharge papers, their hands touching each other for a split second before she pulled away waving them off before walking to where her team was.
"That guy was looking at you intensely," Reyez pointed out, earning a glare from her.
"Don't even start," she rolled her eyes before taking a sip from her water bottle that was on her desk.
"Wait is that the?" Jacob, one of the nurses, asked and she nodded her head.
"Yeah, that's him," she sighed, shaking her head.
"Holly shit Y/N, I knew you said he was hot, but girl? That man is hotter than-,"
"Mackenzie, don't you dare," Y/N joked towards her other co-worker, "God why do you do this to me? I was almost over him and then you put him on my path again? The universe hates me,"
"I'd go for it again if I were you," Mackenzie encouraged earning a glare from her.
"Alright, leave her alone before she starts to crumble, Mackenzie go fill out reports, Y/N go take a breather," Reyez ordered them around and they all nodded their heads, going on their way to do what they were told.
. . .
Soft snores began to quietly run past her lips as she drifted off to sleep, all before a feeling of suddenly falling down an empty whole woke her up. She shook her head letting out a quiet 'fuck' before turning to look towards the clocks on her nightstand, 3:30 AM being brightly displayed on it. Y/N let out a loud sigh, knowing she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.
Her mind suddenly clouded with knotted thoughts and notions, too many of them just to focus on a single one. She pushed her body up, just enough for her to reach over and grab the small yellow backpack that she lazily threw on the floor, pulling her journal and pen out before throwing it back on the floor.
She clicked the pen and opened the journal, blank pages waiting to be filled up, her hand delicately moved along the paper as she scribbled letters and words on the empty pages, thoughts clearing out of her head, one by one.
I saw him today. He looked different. He's grown. After it all, it has been two years. His voice is deeper too. He wanted to talk, but I said no. Maybe if I did, I would fall for him again, or something. I'm doing just fine, so why did he have to move here. Anyway, Reyez finally allowed me to take care of patients by myself today. It was fun, I liked it, I guess. Luckily I'm free tomorrow because I can't sleep at all now. Maybe it's the repeating thoughts of him running through my mind, or just simply the lack of melatonin in my body right now. I'll probably go to the park tomorrow, stop at the cafe first then make my way there, but anyway, I'm going to try and sleep now.
It was a quick entry, nothing special, just her major thoughts being written down, just enough for her to feel better. She got up from the bed walking over to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle before leaning against the counter and sipping it. She crossed her bare legs over each other, looking out of the big window in her living room. Her favorite part about the apartment? It was the window that looked down on bright LA city. Y/N could sit there for hours and not notice the time pass by, she knows this because it happened before. She left the kitchen and walked towards the window, propping her body down on the small couch she had in front of the window. She laid her head on her hand, watching the few cars that sped down the street, the small yet bright red lights disappearing into the distance as her eyes followed them until they could.
Her eyes softly closed as she laid down on the couch, drifting off into another universe. The next morning she woke up at around 8 AM, doing her daily routine, except she stopped at the Cafe, picked her things up, and made her way to the park. It was an old park, there was an old playground that seemed like it hadn't been used in years. She sat down on an old bench drinking her coffee as she watched the scenery.
She didn't take her notebook out, her mind not having any thoughts, or at least no thoughts relevant enough for her to write down. She just took her time to take her surroundings in. She admired how the wind moved the trees, yet they were so strong they didn't crack. The way the birds lifted off whatever surface they were, and drifted off into the sky. She admired the rare butterflies that randomly appeared just to disappear once again. She simply admired the earth, something that she didn't do quite often; Always being too deep in her thoughts to actually study the things around her.
"They're beautiful aren't they?" Grayson's voice spoke out of nowhere, making Y/N do a slight jump in her seat as her heart raced.
She brought her hand up to her chest, a sigh falling past her lips as she glared at Grayson who was chuckling, "You fucking scared me,"
"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down next to her.
They both let out sighs. Both knowing that there was no escaping the conversation that was about to happen, a conversation that was long due.
"You could, hmm, you could go first," she spoke after a few moments of silence, throat dried making her clear it in the middle of some of her words.
"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were working, and Ummm, it wasn't the right place or time to talk about things. I'm also sorry because I never gave you an explanation as to why we should've broken up. After all, you didn't ask anyway," He softly spoke. He thought every word through, studied each meaning before letting them run past his lips.
"I didn't ask because it's what you wanted. Your decision was clearly made. I mean, I don't think breaking up with someone is a spontaneous thought is it? Your decision was made, and if you felt like I was holding you back, then I had to let you go, if I loved you, then I think I did the right thing." Her words were careful too. And quiet, so quiet feeling that if she spoke too loud the things around her would break.
"I didn't want to break up. I felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? We were always so busy, and we made time for each other, but it was exhausting. And when you were out with friends, I felt like I was annoying you or something," he sighed and she shook her head, the thought of her ever getting annoyed at Grayson's presence being absurd.
"Oh God absolutely not," she chuckled, "I thought I was annoying you. Like I wondered if you talked about me, or not. I wanted to know if I annoyed you because I felt like I did,"
It was true. In her journal, multiple pages were filled out with her question herself on whether Grayson talked about her or not. Even after the breakup, she wondered if he'll ever need her. Most pages were about him, all of her thoughts revolved around him, always.
"I did. All the time, to the point where I said your name subconsciously," he smiled, remembering the conversations he had with his friends about her, and how great she was.
"I did too, well not say but write," she sighed, leaning her back on the bench.
"You wrote about me?"
"Grayson you know I did, that's a dumb question," She shook her head, taking a sip of the coffee that was somehow still warm.
"Do you still write about me?" He asked and she stayed quiet, not knowing whether she should answer truthfully or not.
"Honestly speaking, I do. I write about everything that comes to mind, so sometimes? Yeah," she sighed, knowing that it would be easier if they just told the truth.
Maybe this was the closure that they both needed, yet never got. Maybe this was going to help her fully move on from him, and have thoughts that don't include her.
Or maybe not. Maybe this would help them reconnect. Y/N left it all up to the universe. She was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and that you can't change your future since it's already written about. When she got home after a couple of hours she took a shower, lit on her favorite candles, and did the expected. She took out her notebook and wrote.
We spoke today. He told me the reason why we broke up. It wasn't an intentional meeting though, I was just admiring nature. I was looking at the butterflies I think. He randomly spoke. And I know it was long due and needed so I just told him to say it. It's better to just get it over with than to just keep pushing it back, I think. He told me why he wanted to break up, which right now, sounds like a valid reason. I just wonder why he didn't just say it back then. It would've saved me a lot of nights, don't you think? He now knows I write about him, and where I go to write about him. Maybe I shouldn't go there anymore. It sounds out of this world I know. But maybe, just maybe, I should just close that chapter in my life.
There are just too many memories of him at Beachwood. That's where he surprised me the first time he came to visit. And it's where I write about him the most. I could find another cafe near here, there's plenty.
I just wonder if we're ever going to see each other again. If I'll ever fall for him again, if that is even possible. Because I don't think you could fall for the same person twice, right?
That was the last page in her journal. All the pages filled with her delicate letters, her writing being eternal. Filled with on-going words until the end, where an unanswered question laid. The weight that was once on her shoulders began to fade, and for once in her life, the thought of her future no longer made her afraid.
This is the first time I’m proud of a something I wrote, so if this flops, I will deactivate! Just kidding, sort of. Anyways, yeah, I feel like my writing has improved, and as always, if you have any tips, and/or constructive critism, please, please, please drop them in my inbox, and don’t worry, I won’t say your hurting my feelings lmfao!!
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#gothly writings#grayson bailey#graysonbailey#grayson#grayson x oc#graysondolan#grayson dolan#grayson bailey dolan#grayson x you#grayson x reader#grayson x y/n#grayson dolan imagine#grayson dolan fanfiction#grayson dolan angst#grayson dolan fanfic#grayson dolan x reader#grayson dolan x oc#grayson dolan x y/n#grayson dolan x you#grayson blurb#grayson fic#grayson fluff#grayson dolan fic#grayson dolan fluff#grayson dolan blurb#grayson dolan au#grayson dolan smut#grayson dolan concept#dolan twins#dolan twins imagines
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**The events of this mini-episode take place after the events in Season 1, episode 12. AO3 post: ??? Series link: ???
Season 1 Mini-Episode - The Most Dangerous Enemy
The bats above him screeched as he exited the Batmobile. The engine’s rumbling always agitated them, but by the time he’d climbed the steps up to the large computer tucked into one of the cave crevices, the bats had started to quiet down. Batman entered his personal code on the keyboard and pressed his hand into the handprint identification reader next to it. The computer turned on with a lazy hum, and the area was flooded with the red light emitting from the multiple screens as they flickered on.
After a few agonizing minutes, a message popped up on one of the screens. Batman leaned forward on the computer console and pressed the authorization key to download the file. Oracle had finished her search of the city records -- lightning fast, as usual. After a few more impatient moments, the files popped up on the screen and he typed in the code for the computer to begin analysing the information. He scowled as he saw the results of her investigation; with this amount of data, it was going to take a lengthy amount of time for the interface to complete the search. It seemed he was in for a long night, again.
In the distance he heard a motorcycle approaching, followed by the sound of the south entrance’s door rising out of the water. The bats stirred once more, and by the time the bike had pulled up to its platform, they were in full upset. The sound of footsteps filled the cave behind him, followed by a drawn-out yawn from his partner. Then Robin appeared beside him, and the teenager’s attention immediately fell on the screen before him, scanning the information.
“Wow. That was fast.” Robin said.
“She’s good at what she does.” Batman responded, continuing to watch the slow progress of the analysis.
“Good? I thought you said she’s the best?”
“She is.”
Robin smirked. “Any more information on Two-Face?”
“He went off the grid again.”
“We really need to figure out how he’s doing that.” Robin said, stretching.
“He’s avoiding any of his previous connections. It just makes it more difficult to follow him, but not impossible.”
“I don’t blame him, but he’s not just avoiding his friends. He keeps vanishing. He’s figured out some way to disappear right under our noses.”
“As long as we get to his next target before he does he won’t have time to vanish.”
“If you say so.” Robin rested his staff against the side of the computer. “Has he let anything slip about why he’s targeting the locations?”
“No. But the computer will find the connection.”
“You still think he’s doing all of this because he was locked up during the attacks?”
Batman didn’t look at his partner, but the muscles in his neck clenched. “Yes.”
“All of this chaos, just because he feels emasculated,” Robin said in a huff.
“It’s more complicated than that, Robin.”
“Doesn’t sound like it is.”
At that, Batman decided to drop the conversation. Robin was right: it was a childish and emotional reaction, but those are some of the most dangerous ones. And with all the damage he was causing, it sounded wrong to trivialize Dent’s motives, and the subject had started to make him uncomfortable. Robin took the hint and wandered off for a time, eventually returning with a large glass of water -- which he downed half of right away.
Batman eyed him briefly, then resumed his impatient glare at the screens. “You’re back early again.” Robin grumbled in response and finished the rest of his water. Batman decided to continue with his assumptions. “Nigma kicked you out again, didn’t he.”
“Actually, no. I had a normal departure this evening.”
“Why did you call Batgirl to his apartment?”
Robin paused. “We’ll have to talk about that in a minute. I’m currently waiting for an update from her.”
“I thought you were calling for back-up.”
“No, no, it’s not that. Nigma hasn’t escalated to throwing fists or anything foolish like that. He was… actually pretty decent tonight. Bizarre, but decent.”
Batman watched as the computer began segmenting some of the data to one of the other screens, and he leaned forward to give it a brief read. “Bizarre?”
“Yeah. I’ll explain it all to you in a minute.” Noticing Batman’s brief look of impatience, Robin said, “I’m just testing a theory. I’d like to have that answered before I delve into all of this.”
“After what happened the last time, I’m surprised you went back.” Batman admitted.
Robin ruffled his wind-beaten hair. “Not going to lie, that thought did enter my mind. But, hopefully, a dramatic scene like that won’t happen again.”
“Why is that?” Batman asked, reading over more of the segments the computer found in the documents. It looked like his theory that Dent was targeting his previous associates was holding true, and if it was, it shouldn’t be too difficult to predict his next hit.
“I set up some boundaries with him.” Robin said in another yawn.
Batman paused. He pushed himself off of the computer console and stared directly at his partner. Robin looked startled by the attention, confusion clear on his face. “What?” he asked, but Batman just continued with his unnerving stare.
“What?” Robin asked again. “You're looking at me like I said something stupid.”
“You… set up boundaries, with Nigma?” Batman tried to clarify.
“Yes.”
Batman frowned. “What kind of boundaries? Personal boundaries?”
“Yes.” Robin drew out the word as he said it, and Batman returned to his silent stare. His partner let out a huff in confusion, “Why, what? Stop looking at me like that, you're freaking me out.”
“What were these boundaries?”
“Just -- normal human boundaries.” Robin could tell that answer just upset his partner more and elaborated. “I told him to stop taking out his frustrations on me. That I wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. I explained it in a way I think he understood, that it was stalling the investigation and it’s a complete waste of time. He seemed to understand.”
“And Nigma agreed to adhere to your boundaries?”
“Yeah.” Robin answered, and as Batman returned to staring, the boy hissed. “Stop looking at me like that, you're making me think I made some sort of mistake.”
“No, Robin. That's not it -- it's... continue.”
Robin gave an animated shrug. “There isn't much else to add.”
Batman’s frown deepened. “You're telling me, you set up an expectation to be treated fairly by Nigma and he agreed to your terms? And that was it?”
Robin made a slight grimace. “Well, that sounds nicer than what actually happened. He was still a huge jerk about it.”
“What did he say?”
“He made the insinuation that I was expecting him to cater to my every whim, y’know, instead of just treating me like a person. I asked him to stop being so dramatic about it, and -- he did look angry about that -- but, he agreed, and then he wanted to change the subject. That’s about it.”
Batman began the stare again, but his partner hurried to set down his empty glass as Batgirl’s voice came through on their earpieces saying: “B2 to R.”
“Go ahead, Steph.” Robin replied.
“Well, he didn’t stay inside.” Batgirl reported, triggering a grunt from Robin as she spoke. “But all he did was go down to the bar next door. Then he went back inside his office. But, now we have another problem.”
“Great, what now?” Robin asked.
“Harley showed up. She went up to his place, but they’re not screaming at each other like last time. And,” Batgirl stressed that word, “there’s a car parked across from his building now.”
Batman looked at Robin, who gritted his teeth. “Great. Are they just watching him? They’re probably looking out for you, so stay out of sight.”
“No worries there, Boy Wonder. They haven’t seen me, and they look kinda spooked. I think they’d be more scared to see me up here, think they’d just run off.”
“Don’t chance it.” Robin said, and Batgirl sighed.
“Stop pestering me, I’m not so green anymore.”
“Stay out of sight, Batgirl.” Batman cut in, and the two adolescents went quiet.
“Will do. I’ll keep you posted on any developments.” Batgirl responded, before the line went silent once more.
Batman turned to face Robin, now giving him his full attention, only barely registering the computer’s blips as it continued its analysis.
“Bizarre.” Batman said.
Robin blinked. “What?”
“You said he was acting bizarre.”
“Oh.” Robin gave a brief nod. “Yeah, but, like I said, I kind of get why.” His partner took a deep breath and leaned against the computer stand, signaling this was going to be a long discussion. “Remember how Nigma went nuts on me the last time?” Seeing Batman’s confirming nod, he continued. “Apparently I was right. He was scared, and really rattled. Echo and Query are back in town.”
“I heard.”
Robin frowned at that. “Well, did you know that they’re working for Penguin?”
Batman’s white eyes narrowed into thin slits upon hearing that information. “No.”
“Yeah. And, he’s posted them outside of Nigma’s place.” The two of them exchanged a serious look before Robin spoke again. “Nigma told me that Penguin has been threatening him. Not verbally, as far as I can tell, but he’s been showing signs of it. He’s had men following him around the city, watching his every move. So, I don’t know what the hell that meeting at the Iceberg Lounge was all about, but it’s starting to look like the others are turning on him, Batman. I think we might be wrong, I don’t think they’re working together.” Robin crossed his arms, giving Batman a firm look. “He was scared, Bruce. That night, he looked terrified. I’m starting to think that if all of this ‘private investigator’ stuff is some Riddler plan, the others aren’t in on it.”
Batman slowly let out a breath through his nose. “If Oswald is targeting him then that means he knows something Oswald doesn’t want spoken about.” Batman’s gaze wandered around the cave as he thought. “Has Penguin tried to take him out, or is he just threatening?”
“Well…” Robin began, but then he paused for a moment. “This is when things get bizarre.”
Batman gave his partner an expectant look. “Go on.”
“Nigma kinda had a meltdown, at least, that’s the best way I can describe it. He let some of that wall of his drop, and he told me a lot of things that I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have under any normal circumstances.” Seeing the immediate attention Batman gave him, Robin smirked. “He said that Penguin keeps tightening the grip, so to speak. That he keeps turning up the heat but not acting on the threats. Which Nigma determined means that he doesn’t actually want Nigma dead, he’s trying to intimidate him.”
“Why?”
“He said he doesn’t know why, and I think I believe him about that. He was -- Bruce, he was completely out of his mind trying to figure it out. You should’ve seen him, talking a thousand miles a hour, talking with his hands and rambling.”
Batman pondered that information for a moment. “I can see how you’d think he was being honest. Edward has always preferred to have all the answers, that’s most likely part of Oswald’s plan.”
“Exactly.” Robin went silent, thinking over what else he needed to say. When he spoke again, he himself sounded rather bemused. “There’s another thing, well, two other things. I’m sure you’re still wondering why I called Batgirl, the thing is… Nigma told Query and Echo he’s working with us -- screamed it at them, to be more specific.” Batman’s eyes widened at that information, and Robin could see the apprehension in his expression. “Yeah. So, now the Penguin knows about this little test of yours.”
“Why?” Batman wondered. “Why did he do that?”
“That goes into the other subject, the one that makes me think it's possible he’s being truthful. He told me that he had no idea why he told them, that it just came out and he didn’t have a reason. But, that he knew somewhere in his brain there was a reason.” Seeing the look on Batman’s face, Robin chuckled. “I know the feeling, trust me. That’s really when the meltdown happened. He said that he’s been having a really tough few months, he said something about his mind attacking him all the time. That his doctor told him to be more truthful, to be honest with other people.” Robin pushed himself off of the computer stand and uncrossed his arms. “He said that he’s tried it in the past and he does feel better, so that was the solution he jumped to when he was put in such a tough spot. At least, that’s what I got from all of that rambling.”
Batman remained silent for a time, finding it difficult to believe most of that information, but his partner was right, it made sense. “He’s listening to his doctor.”
“He’s talking to his doctor.”
Batman turned away from Robin, and his gaze wandered over the cave again. He watched the water drops from the stalactites above drip onto the platform before him, listened to the humming of the computer, as he processed this new information against his theories. “This doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.
“Unless he’s actually trying to get help with something. He didn’t explain it very well, but I think he’s having flashbacks. At least, that’s what it sounded like -- kind of.”
“Nigma would know what flashbacks are.”
“True, but it is Nigma. He thinks everything he experiences is unique and one of a kind. He might not be able to see it for what it is.”
“No. I’m not buying that.” Batman’s frown deepened again. “He said his mind is attacking him?”
“Yep.”
“He used those exact words?”
“He said: My brain is usually my best friend, but now it's attacking me non-stop.” Robin let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not saying I believe everything he said, but, if this was an attempt to manipulate me, it was a very poorly orchestrated one. Most of what he said didn’t make sense,” he paused for a moment, “but, it sounded like he wasn’t talking to me.”
“He was talking to himself, just through you.” Batman added, and Robin nodded.
“Which is exactly what you said he does to you all the time. That’s why I believe it, I don’t think he was trying to convince me, he was trying to figure it out for himself.”
Batman went silent again, his gaze wandering off to look at nothing in particular. “Or he could just want you to come to that conclusion. He’s got to be up to something.”
“Well, when you figure out what it is let me know, because I can’t figure it out.” Robin was about to walk away from him, but a swift look from his partner stalled him.
“You’ve seen nothing? Heard nothing out of the ordinary while in his apartment?”
“No. I’ve told you everything, every single thing from every time I’ve seen him.”
“He has to be hiding the evidence.” Batman said, and his gaze wandered off once again.
“If he is, he’s doing a damn good job of it. That office is so small and pretty bare, and I told you, I haven’t seen any evidence that he’s hiding things in the walls or the floor. He also doesn’t really go anywhere, so I find it hard to believe he’s concocting this whole plan of his at another location.”
Batman looked back at his partner, a scowl forming on his face. “Nigma is very good at making things look a certain way to throw you off the trail. He’s good at hiding in plain sight, at using your preconceptions against you.”
Robin stared at Batman, pressing his lips together as he thought. “I get that, I do. I’m not saying I don’t think he’s planning something. All I’m saying is that I think it’s a possibility that we were wrong. All that means is that we need to start looking at it differently, maybe from a perspective we haven’t before.” He paused, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. “Bruce, he can be trying to work through something with his doctor, and planning something at the same time. It’s possible. We have no idea what happened to him on that island. He might just need some help dealing with it.”
“The idea of Nigma going to anyone for help --” Batman stopped himself; the words he was about to say felt wrong, and he forced himself to rethink his position. “Nigma thinks he has all the answers. He doesn’t feel the need to go to anyone else because they couldn’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know. That’s how he sees the world.”
“I know, that’s what you’ve always said. But, again, maybe it’s possible things have changed for him, and he’s run out of options to work on them, at least on his own?” Robin pondered out loud.
Batman’s scowl intensified. Robin wasn’t understanding the full scope of this; he needed to explain the gravity of this troubling situation. “Him going to someone for help is potentially very dangerous.”
Robin blinked. “Uh, okay? Explain that one, please.”
Batman’s back straightened, his expression turning more serious as he chose his words carefully. “If Nigma has decided to turn to a professional for help, it could mean he’s become more self-aware. It means that he’s learning, and Nigma learning new information is never a safe prospect.” Batman glanced back at the computer screen; the search of the last few files were almost complete. “I might’ve been wrong. He might have changed his tactics.”
Robin stepped closer to his side, and Batman could feel the anxiousness seeping off of him. “Mind explaining that a bit better?”
Batman returned his attention to his partner -- the boy’s expression was one of concern, but mixed with a layer of distrust. He understood why. He must sound too pessimistic in his worries, but this was a situation he’d feared would occur for a long time now, and he needed Robin to understand his reasoning. Batman looked Robin in the eye, hoping for his partner to grasp the truth behind his words. “If Nigma is breaking down his own walls and learning what his weaknesses are, it’ll make him very difficult to stop. I’ve always used the same strategy with him: exploit his vulnerabilities. No matter how much he tried to adapt to my solutions, he could never fully match up with them -- because the issue wasn’t me, it was him. He was so self-centered, so convinced he was superior that he couldn’t see the obvious holes in his logic. If he’s realized that he does have weaknesses, that his own issues are what’s been holding him back all this time, and he’s actively trying to rid himself of them --”
“Then…” Robin interjected, his expression more concerned now. “Are you saying you don’t think you’d be able to stop him?”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
The two crime-fighters stared at each other. Robin looked surprised by the admission, but his demeanor shifted after a few moments. Batman frowned, knowing that look all too well. The boy thought he was being too dramatic and he was skeptical of the rationale.
The computer blipped beside them. It had finished its analysis, and Batman turned his attention back to the screens. Three locations popped up, one of which was a clear possibility for Dent’s next attack. Robin picked his staff back up, giving Batman an expectant look, and Batman gave him a confirming nod in agreement. As the two began to descend the stairs to the Batmobile, Batman felt an anxiousness seep into his bones. The fear of what Nigma was up to gripped him, and he hoped he would be able to rid it to focus on the current case at hand.
Robin hopped into the passenger seat, the skepticism still clear on his face. He turned on some of the trackers on the car’s console and said, “I don’t know. I know you know him better than I do, but, all of that seems way too calculated for what he’s currently doing.”
Batman climbed into the car, a low growl of disagreement escaping his lips.
“I’m serious, Batman. If he was using his doctor to make him into some unbeatable super-criminal, I doubt he’d be starving and killing his brain with alcohol.”
Batman frowned as the car’s engine revved and the bats began to shriek. “I’ll admit, I can't explain the drinking.”
Robin looked at him, his brow rising. “Really. In all your years working with criminals you've never seen someone deal with problems by hiding at the bottom of a bottle? And it'd make sense, actually, if what he's saying about the flashbacks is true…”
But Batman really didn’t want to hear anymore of Robin’s theories about the evidence. He closed the hood of the Batmobile, revved the engine to signify the end of the discussion, and as his partner readied himself in his seat, he sped off toward the cave exit. As they neared the hidden passage door, Batman decided he was more than willing to see whatever distractions Two-Face could provide for the evening. Hopefully it would be enough to get his mind off of that disturbing hint of a notion that maybe, just maybe, Robin was actually onto something.
#writing post#Season 1 Episodes#Mini-episodes#Batman#edward nigma#Tim Drake#extra content#zorasublime
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OHSHC Imagine- Kyoya, Tamaki, and the Twins react to you playing Just Dance
Authors Note: Hello guys! It’s been a while since I’ve uploaded so here is a draft from the summer of my four favorite boys. Don’t worry, I’m working on some new stuff and will be up soon! I’m currently watching MHA so there will be content of that :) anyways enjoy this for now
TW: suggestive themes
• tamaki suoh
you smiled as you watched the disc slide into the console. just dance: a game you haven’t played in years, but one of your favorite video games growing up.
‘just dance! dance, dance!’ you heard the game say, and indeed you shall.
you guided the tiny hand across the screen to choose one of your old favorite dances. you pressed ‘a’ and the music recognized as good girl by carrie underwood started to play.
you play through half of the song and you already were 3 stars in. you heard the familiar squeak of your bedroom door open, the smell of tamaki’s cologne entering the room, though your oblivious self did not notice his presence.
your boyfriend leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as his eyes were stuck on your moving body.
he chuckled.
“you enjoying yourself there, princess?”
you gasped, pausing the game, turning to tamaki.
“hey babe,” you managed to say, blushing at the sudden embarrassment.
he must have sensed your shift of emotions because the next thing you knew his arms wrapped around your waist, turning on his princely charms you always fell for.
he caressed the side of your face, causing your pink cheeks to deepen to a crimson red, something tamaki was only able to do.
“now princess, don’t be embarrassed... you dance so gracefully. the sight of your smile causes the fountain inside of me to start overflowing.”
one thing for sure is he had a way with words.
“besides my love, you look sooo cute when you’re dancing!”
you laughed as you grabbed another wii remote, handing it to tamaki.
“wanna dance with me?”
he smiled as he grabbed the remote.
“okay, you may look cute while dancing but i will still beat you.”
“bring it on,” you said as you unpaused the game.
tamaki may have had a way with words, and he may be amazing at ballroom dancing, but one thing for sure:
he will never master the art of just dance the way you do.
the scores proved it.
player 1: 5 stars
player 2: 2 stars
• kyoya ootori
you began to grow bored watching kyoya type away at his laptop, he was sitting at his desk for hours as you were trying to find a foolproof way for him to finally stop. he had been working on something for the clients of the infamous host club, and nothing you could do could convince him to take a break.
you sighed and stood up, walking over to his dresser, where sat a wide screen tv and a game console. you flipped through the games he owned, pulling out just dance. you look over at kyoya, still clacking away at the keyboard. you roll your eyes and put the game on.
you scroll though the options and suddenly got an idea. you turn on the song mr saxobeat, hoping to gain your boyfriend’s attention with the suggestive moves in the dance.
the song began to play, and you turned to face kyoya, moving your hands seductively as if you were trying to pull him in with a non existent rope. he was facing your direction but his eyes did not even move off of the screen.
you continued without worrying about kyoya, until you get to the bridge of the song. you moved your body along to the beat, kyoya finally looked up and watched you with a smirk on his face. you had him exactly where you wanted him.
soon the song was back to the beginning, pulling the non existent seductive rope, to which kyoya actually played along with.
he walked towards you and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into the warmth of his body.
“finally, i got you to get off the stupid laptop,” you muffled into his chest.
he chuckled softly, his hands on your hips.
“you should play with me kyo... i’m sure you’d be just fine at this game.”
he pulled away from you, adjusting his glasses as he kept that damn smirk on his face.
“that is an intriguing offer, in its own way. is this all part of your plan?”
“pshhh, no. it’s just that i would totally beat you..”
he kissed your temple.
“challenge accepted, my love. though, you should know. i never lose.”
and he was right, he never played the damn game in his life, and still managed to beat you. and the fucker still went back to that laptop right afterwards.
though, he still looked up at you when you were doing some not so kid friendly moves. and that’s when the laptop shut.
• hikaru hitachiin
you had just arrived at your boyfriend’s house, you stood at the door after knocking, waiting for hikaru. to your surprise, his twin, kaoru opened the door.
“hey, y/n, nice to see you, come on in,” the boy said, opening the door slightly for you to enter their mansion of a home.
“hikaru is in the living room, he’s kinda been in a shitty mood all day, so good luck,” kaoru warned before heading off.
this was no surprise to you, however, you were one of the few people who can change his mood within seconds.
you walked into the large room, seeing your boyfriend, slumped over on the couch.
“hey handsome, you okay?”
he crossed his arms as he felt the shift of the mattress.
“yeah, just bored. i was waiting for you all day.”
oh yeah, that’s right. you came over a few hours late. you decided you needed to find a way to make up for his bored-ness.
you put a hand on his knee, looking up to see his slight blush.
you move your hand slowly up his thigh and to his waistband, you hear his breathing hitch. bingo! now you knew exactly what you were gonna do.
you pulled your hand away and walked towards the tv. you heard hikaru groan.
“y/n...”
“oh hush, hikaru.. i’m gonna make it up to you.”
“i thought that was the part where you make it up!”
you chuckled as you turned on just dance, scrolling to the song.
“this is the part where i make it up to you,” you smirked knowing full well how suggestive this song was.
the song on the floor by jennifer lopez started to play. you knew the moves by heart.
you turned to face hikaru, imitating the moves of the tiny woman on the screen.
you noticed his demeanor change, and you can see the bulge in his dress pants grow. you could tell he especially liked when you shook your hips to the beat of the music.
at that point, the red haired boy couldn’t hold back any longer. he practically rushed to the tv, yanking the console’s cord out of the socket.
“aw hikaru... why’d you spoil my fun?” you smirked.
“i think you made it up to me plenty,” he spoke lowly, tugging at your jeans.
and soon enough, you both were literally on the floor.
• kaoru hitachiin
you sighed, turning towards your long-time boyfriend, kaoru. you were laying in his bed watching movies for the past couple of hours, but now you were quite bored, even though you did enjoy the comfort of being in his arms.
he looked down at you as you looked up at him, and you immediately locked eyes.
“bored?” you both asked.
you heard him chuckle as you shuffled closer into his chest.
“yeah,” you answered.
“well, what do you wanna do? we could go to the park, i could ask the club to get together, i can have hikaru grab us a pizza or something, uh—“
you smile just before you cut him off.
“i have the greatest idea.”
you suddenly see him perk up.
“ooh! are we gonna make out?”
you shook your head, then kissed his cheek.
“maybe later, handsome,” you said as you sat up, “i actually was thinking about a game i played when i was younger.”
“oh! a commoner’s game, fun!”
you gave him a glare, signaling him to shut up. you continued, grabbing your bag at the end of the bed.
“i actually brought it with me, you wanna play?”
“sure!” he said with a grin, taking the disc from you, “just dance? never heard of it.”
“seriously? it is like the best game of all time, kaoru! all you do is dance, but lucky for you, at least you’d look good doing it.”
he blushed at the compliment, not used to hearing any from anyone. he was used to handing them out to the ladies who came to the host club. but he learned to get used to them, especially when hearing it from you.
he popped the game into the console.
“you can have first pick, babe,” he said.
he had no idea what he was in for. you picked oh no by marina and the diamonds, one of your favorites.
not even a minute into the song, he was already complaining.
“y/n! how are you so good at this?”
the reason he said this was because he almost tripped over his own two feet for a spin move. you obviously perfected the move and dived right into a whole new one, scoring perfect on that one as well.
“well, i spent my whole childhood on this game, kaoru, maybe this is something i can teach you for once.”
he chuckled.
“i’ll tell you one thing, you are the one who looks good doing this, not me,” he breathed out, watching as you perfect yet another move, blushing slightly at the fact you were shaking your hips.
though being right beside him, you could feel his stare on you.
“get your mind out of the gutter, hitachiin, you have other things to worry about, like beating me at this game!”
“i don’t think so y/n,” he practically flops on the bed and lets out a breath.
“that i can agree on you with,” you say arrogantly, finishing the song.
“hey!”
you laughed, laying on top of him, seeing the red headed boy smirk.
“now can you take me up on that make out session, love?” he asked as he wrapped his arms across your body.
you chose to answer him by filling the gap between you both, both of you chuckling as you start to get carried away.
You were not bored anymore, that was for sure.
-Admin Maddie
#ohshc imagines#ohshc imagine#kaoru ohshc#tamaki ohshc#ohshc fanfiction#ohshc kyoya#ohshc hikaru#ohshc fic#kyoya x reader#request ohshc imagine ouran imagines ohshc tamaki ohshc kyoya ohshc hikaru ohshc kaoru ohshc mori ohshc honey ohshc x reader oura#tamaki x reader#tamaki x you#tamaki x y/n#hikaru x reader#kaoru x reader#ohshc x reader#ouran tamaki#ouran host club#ouran imagines#ouran kaoru#ouran hikaru#ouran high school host club#ouran headcanons#ouran hshc#ouran kyoya#x reader#tamaki suoh#hikaru hitachiin
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fake dating
“uh oh” // chapter 1
warnings: mentions of sex
pairings: jj maybank x reader
word count: 2.0k
summary: your family keeps pressuring you to get a boyfriend so, you say you have one. when they ask for a name, the only one that pops into your mind is jj maybank– your enemy.
all the girls wanted to be you, and all the guys wanted to be with you. except for one. jj maybank. you two were the furthest thing from friends, let alone partners. you both tried your best to stay away from one another, but being apart of the same friend group wasn’t make that any easier. you and jj had just never gotten along. it started in elementary school, when he would bully you by putting slime in your hair, or breaking your pencils in half when he knew you didn’t have anymore. that hatred only continued to grow when middle school came. now being in high school, it’s worse than ever. the pouges tried everything to get you two to get along, but it just never seemed to work.
“i’m just saying that if you were to cut off your arm,” jj starts, “you wouldn’t feel pain!” you groan, earning a laugh from kie. “of course you would feel pain you jackass,” you reply, making jj glance at you. “shut up, i’m not talking to you.” you scoff, looking at john b. “john b, tell him please! of course you would feel pain if you cut off your arm. you are literally cutting off your arm,” you exclaim, pretending your hand is a saw and demonstrating it on your arm. “i gotta agree with y/n on this one man,” john b states, gaining a whine from jj. “but where would you feel the pain?,” he questions. you then reply with, “in your arm–“ but he cuts you off, hitting his thigh with his palm. “but your arm is gone!”
“yeah but you have a nervous system! you would feel the pain everywhere. pain travels you idiot!” you say, making jj huff and turn away. “relax maybank,” you speak, catching his attention. “you’re just being a little bitch because you’re wrong.” the grip on his beer bottle tightens and he takes a long swig. “i’m the little bitch?” he bites back. “uh oh,” pope whispers. “you always have something to say! you think you’re better than everyone else, always trying to prove them wrong! but you never think for a second that you could be wrong too, no, of course not. because you’re little miss sunshine, aren’t you?” jj rants, panting as you look him up and down in disgust. “you think you have me all figured out, don’t you jj? well guess what dickhead? you don’t. so why don’t you get your head out of my ass! stop trying to figure me out. if you keep doing so, some might even think you’re obsessed with me,” you yell, getting up and walking away from the bonfire. “fuck you!” jj yells. you don’t look back. all you do is stick up your middle finger and keep walking.
now, three weeks later, you’re in a sticky situation. “so, y/n,” your mom starts, grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and pouring some into her plate. you were all having dinner– your mom, dad, and younger sister. “do you have a boyfriend yet?” you choke on your chicken while your little sister laughs. she was only younger than you by 3 years, so you two got a long pretty well. “oh my god mom, when are you going to drop that?” you ask, taking a sip from your water. “i’ll drop it when you get a boyfriend,” she responds, while your dad gums in agreement. “well then drop it, because i have a boyfriend.” she drops her fork and looks at you with wide eyes. “oh my god really? who is it? oh, please tell me!”
panicking, a random name slips out of your mouth. “oh- uh, d-do you know jj maybank?” your mom gasps and picks her fork back up to continue to eat. “i always thought you two didn’t like each other!” she starts. you rub the back of your neck and chuckle slightly. “things change,” you say with a small smile. “i’m happy for you y/n,” your dad says, patting your shoulder. “we have to invite him over one day!” your eyes widen. you were about to say how much that was definitely not going to happen, but seeing how happy your mom was made you say something else.
“i’ll ask him.” she squeals, hugging you awkwardly while you tried to eat. “i’m so happy for you y/n! maybe he’s your soulmate, like your father and me.” you pretend to throw up in your mouth, earning a laugh from your little sister. “y/n! manners!” your mom exclaims.
later that night, you found your fingers hovering over the keybord to text jj. just text him, you think to yourself.
y/n😒: jj i need your help
jj🖕🏻: absolutely not
y/n😒: please i’m serious
jj🖕🏻: so am i
y/n😒: my family thinks we’re dating
incoming call from jj🖕🏻
hesitantly, you answer the phone. “y/n, why the fuck does your family think we’re together?” you chuckle nervously, hearing him groan from the other end. “um so we were eating dinner and–“
“is this going to be a long story?” you stomp your foot at his question. “if you keep interrupting, yeah, it will be!” he stays quiet and you continue. “so, for the past couple weeks my family has been pressuring me to get a boyfriend and i got tired of it so i told my mom i had one.” jj laughs and you scoff. “stop it’s not funny! she asked me for a name and i accidentally said you! please i need you to help me,” you beg. maybe using your soft voice would convince him. “no way.” maybe not.
“jj please! i’ll do anything!” he stays quiet for a moment, and you could swear you heard him smirk, if that was even possible. “anything?” you sigh loudly. “i’m not sleeping with you,” you say nonchalantly. jj groans in disgust from the other side of the phone, but ends it with a laugh. “i don’t want to sleep wi– well actually–“
“jj!” you whisper-scream, knowing your family is sleeping. “i’m kidding! mostly. but i will help you on one condition.” though he can’t see it, you nod. “what is it?” you ask with a small smile. “you have to pay me.” your smile drops. “you’re kidding,” you groan, throwing your head back into your pillow. “i’m one hundred percent serious y/n. $50 and i’ll do whatever you want me to.” you think for a minute and sigh in defeat. “whatever i want?” you ask, and he chuckles. “i’m not sleeping with you,” he mocks. “shut up idiot. listen, you’re going to have to fake date me for like a week, think you can do that?”
“fake date you?” he asks loudly. “i’m going to need $100 instead. deal or no deal.”
“jj,” you warn.
“deal or no deal,” he repeats. “fine! okay, fine! just shut up, you’re so annoying. come to my house tomorrow, alright? and please whatever you do, don’t screw this up.” he exhales with a small laugh. “you have my word, honey.” before you could protest the pet name, he hangs up. “i hate him,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.
the next morning you wake up, thinking it was all a dream. but after checking your phone and seeing the text messages along with the 3 minute phone call with jj, you realize it wasn’t. “crap,” you whisper to yourself, looking at the time. 9:19am. jj would be here soon, and you just woke up. you jump out of bed and search your closet for clothes. before you could find an appealing outfit, the doorbell rings. oh fuck, you think to yourself. you didn’t tell your parents that jj was coming over. running downstairs, you see that your mom was about to put her hand on the door knob. “wait–!” you yell, but your mom still opens the door, and there stands jj maybank. your boyfriend.
“oh jj! what a lovely surprise! y/n didn’t tell me you were coming over today!” she says, looking back at you, wiggling her eyebrows. you make eye contact with jj and whisper a “sorry” as he rolls his eyes. but when your mom turns back, he smiles widely. “i hope that’s not a problem ms. l/n!” he says sweetly. your mouth hangs open a bit. you’ve never heard him speak so proper. “oh not at all! i heard you two are together now, congrat–“ you interupt her by running down the rest of the stairs and grabbing jj’s hand. “okay cool thanks mom bye,” you stutter quickly, dragging jj to your room. “use protection!” she yells up. “stop!” you scream, as jj laughs.
dragging jj to your room, you throw him on the bed and shut the door, locking it behind you. “i’m usually the dominant one in the bedroom but i could get used to this,” jj jokes, and you smack him in the arm. “shut your mouth,” you speak, grabbing a tank top from your closet, along with some shorts. you walk into your connected bathroom and change quickly, making eye contact with jj. “so why did you want me here?” you sit down next to jj and look into his eyes. you never realized how beautiful they truly were. you were mesmerized by how much they resembled the ocean. you loved the ocean.
“okay so we have to pretend to date,” you start, and he groans. “wow really, i had no idea,” he says sarcastically, causing you to hit him. “jj come on, i’m serious! so, i’m going to need you to stay over tonight.” his eyes widen lightly, followed by a smirk. “and why’s that, honey?”
“would you cut it out with the “honey” nickname! that’s so weird,” you exclaim, making jj chuckle. “if i can’t call you honey, then what pet names can i call you?” you think for a minute, looking down at your hands. “why don’t we make rules?” you ask, making eye contact with jj. “i’m listening,” he replies. “so rule number one could be..” you pause, as jj stares at you intensely. “the nicknames! we have to use them around people. so you can call me princess, baby, my love, and snickerdoodle.” jj makes a face at the last one, and you laugh. “i’m kidding about the last one, but the first three are true. and what about you maybank? what should i call you?” jj smirks and you groan. “here we go,” you say softly.
“well, i never thought i would say this, but i like it when you say my last name. it rolls right off your tongue. so you can call me maybank, baby, my love..” he pauses for a moment, and gets close to you. “what are you doing?” you question, feeling his warm breath against your skin. “...and daddy.” you choke on air, earning a laugh from the blonde haired boy. “n-no way jj!” you say, pushing him. “i’m not doing that! not in front of my family!”
“oh so in private is okay?” he exclaims. “jj! just– oh my god.. let’s just get b-back to the rules, okay?” he laughs, nodding. “i love seeing you flustered, princess.” ignoring the nickname, you continue with the rules. for hours, you and jj tried to come up with rules, and in the end, you came up with 10.
they were:
1) use nicknames whenever around people
2) can only kiss each other if the other person says “kiss me.” it cannot be an unexpected kiss
3) do not break character, no matter what
4) hold hands whenever you’re walking side by side with one another
5) make it believeable. be sweet but not too sweet
6) don’t tell anyone that you’re faking it
7) always say “i love you” when people are looking
8) protect one another
9) y/n has to pay jj always laugh at each other’s jokes
10) this is all fake. whatever you do, do not fall in love
this is going to be fun.
#outerbanks#jj maybank smut#jj maybank#jj smut#jj maybank x reader#rudy pankow imagine#rudy pankow x reader#rudy pankow#kiara carrera#john booker routledge#john b routledge#pope heyward#jj outer banks#sarah cameron#topper obx#jj maybank obx#jj maybank fanfiction
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For the bingo what about spideydevil hogwarts AU . Good luck on your bingo!!
Thank you if you do it.
Thanks for the prompt :D
So, this is like 3 times longer than I wanted to make these bingo fics lmao. Oops 🤷♀️. It still could use some polishing, but I'm terrified that Peter will find another plot thread if I poke at it anymore.
Bingo fic 1/?
As much as he devoted himself to studying, Peter could not bring himself to care about Divination. The whole class reminded him of cringe inducing hacks he'd seen on t.v. growing up. Except, no one was jumping out with hidden footage to debunk it. Everything appeared hollow: randomness assigned meaning. And, while Peter didn't often procrastinate, he found it harder and harder to work on his Divination homework the more weeks that passed.
There was one silver lining, though. Another student, one he'd held a torch for from afar, was in the class with him. That too, turned out to be hollow and meaningless until today. Despite having a class together, Peter still had no real reason to approach Matt. However, he stumbled into the opportunity in his usual Parker way: completely on accident.
His procrastination on his Divination assignments reached a plateau, and, despite his ability to work quickly under pressure, Peter was late to class. When he'd finally made it -ten minutes late and scribbling the last lines on his essay- he'd thought the repercussion would be a lecture. Or detention. The usual stuff Hogwarts professors liked to through his way.
Instead, the professor welcomed him to class in her airy way and quietly assigned him a partner for the project she was currently guiding the class through. "Ah, Mr. Murdock, please join Peter for the remainder of class."
By stoke of luck, Matthew Murdock had been an unlucky third wheel in another group, and made no fuss about changing seats. His usual partner was in the infirmary; the exact cause was the subject of many rumors. Peter was rather fond of the theory that Foggy was involved in a fight with the group of slytherins who often tired to bully Matt, but anyone involved was keeping their lips zipped tight.
It wasn't a glamorous impression, but Peter was thankful for the opportunity.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Matt crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back in the cozy chair across from Peter. He nodded to the steaming cup of tea in front of him, raising an eyebrow.
Peter nodded, then mentally kicked himself and verbally answered, "Yeah. I read over the basics last night."
It was a basic tea leaf reading, and the set up was quite straightforward. The professor was kind enough to provide hot water and a selection of tea leaves at each table. Though, she did note they would have a better reading with their own supplies.
"Good. I started my tea already, so you can read mine while yours-"
"Mr. Murdock." The professor tapped the cup in front of him with her wand. "You must start over. The leaves are easier for your partner to interpret when they are brewed just for them." With a flick of her wand, his cup was replaced with an empty one and she glided off towards another set of students.
Matt sighed and reached for the tea selection, deftly selected Earl Grey and pinched a healthy amount of leaves into his cup. Peter followed suit, choosing one at random without reading the labels.
"Don't you care for tea?" Matt's gaze was slightly to the left of where Peter sat, his face not giving away his thoughts.
"I do, I'm just not picky." His pulse quickened. This was the most they'd spoken in years. He watched Matt's hands as he poured the hot water into their cups, tracing the calluses earned from long hours in the greenhouse.
"Now we wait." Matt sat the pot back to the side of the table and leaned back in his chair.
The tea would need to steep for at least three minutes. There were many things to do during that time to ensure a good reading, or so the professor said. Holding the cup and thinking about what you wanted the leaves to tell you seemed like a good option, but Peter really didn't believe in fortune telling enough to meditate over his tea. Another method was to talk to the person who was going to do your reading. And the third, and one Matt seemed keen on, was to silently wait and let what happens happen.
In Peter's opinion, silence was something to be broken
"Uh," Peter shifted nervously as watched the steam rise from his cup, "how is Foggy? That was a hell of a match last night, shame he missed it."
"He's fine." Matt's voice was flat. "He should be discharged in time for dinner."
"That's… good to hear." Peter eyed him nervously. Matt was a year ahead of him and in a different house, meaning they had very few direct interactions. Yet, Peter knew a good amount about him. Or, rather, he knew what the Daily Prophet said and what he'd observed with his own eyes didn't always match and had drawn his own conclusions.
Coming from a muggle family meant Peter had very little frame of reference for most things, and he could only try to compare having an Auror as a father to having one who was a cop. Matt was a third year when his father was targeted by a group of dark wizards and Matt was caught in the crossfire.
Peter, always in search of knowledge, desperately wanted to know which curse caused Matt to lose his vision, and which spells gave him a sense of the world around him. As far as he could tell there was no braille equivalent in the Wizarding World. He didn't ask, of course. He had more sense than that, even in the pursuit of knowledge. He wanted to know Matt first, because he seemed like a cool -and handsome- guy.
Even if he was callous enough to just ask, it wasn't like he had many opportunities to do so. This was actually their first class together in Peter's six years at Hogwarts- and would be the only one since Matt would be graduating in a few months.
Despite having no real social interactions, Peter was well aware of Matt, and would have been even if his story wasn't in the papers for months. The very first time Peter stepped foot into Hogwarts, he was so enthralled with the majesty and magic of the castle -- until he spotted Matt. It was silly, and, even though Peter couldn't name the sensation back then, that moment stuck with him.
Peter had read everything he could prior to entering Hogwarts, dreading being behind his peers who grew up in the Wizarding World. His heart was set on Ravenclaw, drawn in by the lure of knowledge and like-minded students. That was until he locked eyes with Matt from across the hall and, for a brief moment, yearned to be adorned in red and gold. Reason won, and he was proud to be sorted into Ravenclaw. But, part of him always wondered.
"Thank you." Matt's voice jolted him from his reminiscing.
Peter wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve thanks, so he deflected with a joke. "Hey, I'd be thankful too if someone rescued me from the 'Dream Couple'. More like 'Most Annoying Couple'." He tapped his index finger on the table towards students Matt was originally teamed with, rolling his eyes at how closely they sat together.
A small chuckle escaped Matt and Peter's chest puffed with pride. Matt was such a serious person, he hardly ever smiled or laughed, and then it was almost exclusively with Foggy.
"For that, too, I suppose. I meant to thank you for being the only person in this class… probably the school… who hasn't ask me… about… it."
Oh. Peter looked away, embarrassed by how many questions he truly wanted to ask while simultaneously reeling from the fact Matt apparently paid enough attention to notice. "It's not my business. Besides, there's way more things I'd like to pick your brain about."
Matt raised an eyebrow, "Like?"
Peter opened his mouth to list off a litany of botany questions, but was cut off before he managed a single syllable. The professor stared down at them, "It's been long enough, time to drink your tea, be sure to do your rotations. Read the leaves immediately, take notes on your findings before looking up their meanings. Then, give your reading to your partner. Ideally, you will know each common symbol by heart by the end of the term, but for now use your books."
They dropped the conversation, following her instructions and downing their tea. Peter was pleased with his random choice, noting hints of citrus.
"Here," he pushed his empty cup towards Matt. As he took Matt's cup, he wondered how Matt would read his leaves, but didn't ask.
Peter peered into Matt’s cup, trying to find patterns in the chaos of leaves. Eventually, his eyes focused on the task and he could make out what he thought were symbols. He wrote down his list and set the cup and notebook on the table.
Across from him, Matt was focused on Peter's cup. He ran his wand over it, then his hand, then with a flick of his wand his quill automatically made a note.
"You'll have to teach me that sometime," Peter said before he could stop himself.
Matt paused, lips pursed.
Peter continued, "If I could direct my quill to write, it would save a lot of time when I'm trying new potion ingredient substitutes. The constant starting and stopping to note every step and change I make is such a juggle."
"That's pretty dangerous," Matt said with an amused lilt to his voice. "Though, I suppose teaching you that would make it slightly more safe."
"Yea, it would be negligent for you not to," Peter's heart raced as he teased the handsome student across from him.
"We should probably do the readings." Matt shifted, "But we'll figure out a time that we're both free, yeah?"
Peter nodded, "Yeah."
"I'll start, if that's okay."
"Uh, yeah. Did you need to look up your symbols? 'Cuz I have no idea what some of these mean."
Matt heaved a large reference book into his lap, "I'm doing it on the fly. Let's see…" He waved his wand over the pages and ran his index finger over the text.
Peter didn't put much stock into fortune telling, but he was curious what Matt would read in the leaves.
"So, your leaves are interesting. There is a small ring or letter 'O' at the top, so either a love interest is close or you have something important with someone with an 'O' name." He continued on without waiting for Peter's reaction or input, "There is a spider that spans both the present and future, which could mean you have a choice to make soon which will have a huge impact on your life. But, there is a smaller thing that could be a spider, too? So maybe you have a lot of choices to make?"
Peter shrugged. The close love interest piqued his interest, though he was more curious what Matt would say about it. Maybe he would be given a beacon of hope, a sign that Matt noticed him too.
"Ah, and this at the bottom! It's a very clear anchor, meaning a stable future." Matt tilted his head towards Peter, "You do not seem impressed with your reading."
"Nothing personal, I just don't think these things are more than carnival tricks and fun games."
"Fair enough," Matt chuckled and set his notes to the side, folded his arms on the table and leaned in. "Now mine."
Right, Peter had to figure out Matt's. He pulled out his own book and looked over the page of symbols. "Well, let's start with what I know without reading paragraphs of contradictory symbology. So, there is a ring -or 'O'- at the bottom and it's pretty big. Future relationship? Or someone with an 'O' name? And there is a smaller one of the same in the present."
He paused to look at his notes. "Uh… I think this is a ladder? Which means travel in your future. And a Knife in the future meaning a fight. Umm, I wrote down a snake, but it could be a worm? Which… is a bad omen or a secret enemy."
Peter glanced up at Matt, and was about to apologize for accidentally reading a bad future for him when the Professor approached their table.
"Ah, let's take a look, then, shall we?" She gently plucked Peter's tea cup up from in front of Matt and swept her eyes over the leaves. "Oh, my. You have a small romantic notion towards someone that has lasted a while but hasn't grown into anything more. You have several challenges which will appear in the near future and your decision to take them on or ignore them will drastically shape your life. Those choices are why a lot of your future is fuzzy, but if you remain true to yourself there is great prosperity and even greater love waiting for you."
She looked over Matt's notes and pointed out the symbols he missed. Peter sighed, he was ready for the class to end. At least he had his study not-date with Matt to look forward to.
"Let's have a look at the other one," She said as she lifted Matt's cup from where Peter set it. "You have a recent romantic notion, it is small and very new, but you will have a journey before it can grow. There are a lot of small victories in your future, but they can be overshadowed by betrayal. I see a powerful romance in the future, but it could be lost if you're not careful."
Matt seemed to hang on every word, but quickly folded his arms when the Professor finished her own reading. Was he taking it seriously? Peter made a note to ask later. There were some interesting parallels between their readings, giving Peter a sliver of hope of his feelings being returned despite the absurdity of fortune telling.
"Overall, not bad for your first times. Keep studying, there will be a practical component to the final." With that, she drifted towards another group, leaving Peter and Matt to clean up.
"You're a muggleborn, aren't you?" Matt wasn't looking at him, but Peter could feel the weight of his attention pinning him to his chair. "Foggy is too," Matt added quickly, "and has the same opinions on this," he waved his hand generally.
"Ah, yea. It's a bit… "
"I get it. Don't worry, no judgment here. Still, the reading was a bit uncanny."
Peter huffed. "It's easy to assign meaning to a vague set of events."
"Is that so?" Matt tilted his head.
"We're teens, so it's not uncommon to have a crush. And everyone has a journey at some point, or choices to make. That's life. And it's not unusual to get married later in your life."
"True." He calmly began to clean the table. A swish of his wand and his cup was clean. "So, you do not deny liking someone."
Well, that was unexpected. Peter sputtered, searching for a string of words to put together as his pulse raced. "I- well- that's- I-"
Matt had the audacity to laugh at him, and the sound alone was almost enough to make Peter's embarrassment worth it. Almost. "Why so embarrassed, I thought it wasn't uncommon?"
Peter busied himself with clearing his side of the table. "So, you're not denying it yourself?" He leaned into the hope the conversation sparked, imagining his feelings being returned. Tea leaves be damned, Peter made his own fate, and if he was given the chance there was no amount of future-telling that could ruin what he felt for Matt.
Their conversation dropped when the professor requested everyone's attention for a short lecture before the end of class. It was important information they would need for their test, but Peter's attention drifted to Matt. By the upward tilt of Matt’s lips, he was well aware of Peter's distraction.
There was a flurry of activity after class, and Peter didn't have any chance to speak with him further. However, Matt was true to his word and sought Peter out over the weekend. The weather was fair, creating the perfect opportunity to study together outside and away from the prying eyes of their classmates. They found a shaded area and set up their makeshift study session under the shade of a tree.
"I think I got it." Peter waved his wand over a fresh piece of parchment, whispering the spell Matt taught him. The tree bark dug into his back, and Matt’s cologne was distracting, but he could feel the tingle of the spell working. His quill sprung to work, jotting down a few lines of potion ingredients before sputtering out and falling to the page. As it rolled to the side, he sighed and leaned his head against the tree.
"It takes practice to keep it writing longer, but you've done more than I expected for your first lesson. You really are every bit the genius they say."
"People talk about me?" Peter was top of his class, but he didn't think his grades warranted discussion with the 7th years.
Matt shrugged and knocked his shoulder into Peter's. "I may have asked around."
Peter's heart somersaulted. "Oh? What, uh, else did 'they' say?"
"That you're a smart ass."
Peter nodded and leaned towards Matt, "Go on."
"Peter…" Matt's breath ghosted over his cheek sending a thrill up his spine.
"Matt…" Peter continued forward, gently pressing his lips against Matt's. For a brief moment, Matt pressed back; then suddenly there was a large distance between them.
Peter's lips felt cold.
"Sorry. I-"
"Don't be, I-I kissed you." Peter fumbled to put his quill and notebook into his bag. "I thought-"
"Peter." Matt's voice was soft, unsure. "It wouldn't be fair to you."
Peter stared down at his notes, trying to make sense of what Matt was saying.
"I graduate in a few months." He held up a hand when Peter started to protest, "and I've just been accepted into a school in Germany. I leave right after graduation to get a head start with their summer law program."
"But-"
"We would have an expiration date, Peter." Matt's eyes were closed. There was a rigidness to his posture which made Peter suspect there was more he wasn't saying.
"Ok. Then just friends."
Matt inhaled sharply, like he hadn't expected Peter's reaction. "Friends. Yea, I'd like that."
With that, they settled into a rhythm for the rest of the school year. Studying together when time allowed, ignoring the tension between them whenever they accidentally touched. Whenever the tightness in his chest returned, Peter reminded himself of their tea readings and imagined a future where they shared a happy ending.
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Woo, thanks for reading!
There is a part two I'm working on where they reunite as professors several years later. I actually started that first then switched gears when Peter made a reference to their past. Hopefully I'll finish it soon so it's not so much of a cliffhanger lol.
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