#i’ve had two packages in the last month delivered to the wrong apartment

[lizardmonet]

remember when USPS released merch to make money in 2020 cause they were tanking and everyone fell for it hook line and sinker as if USPS isn’t the worst package delivery service to currently exist

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 4

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 5206

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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Dabi’s frustration only grew when he saw your excited expression. All the sudden all he could think of was the was the way that Bakubrat had kissed the top of your head the last time he had seen you.

Dabi readjusted you so you were on his back and put his hands firmly on your thighs. He’ll admit he’s being ridiculous, but he wanted to keep you out of reach from the explosive idiot.

You were practically buzzing with excitement. You had missed your friends. Even though you had seen them a few weeks ago, it wasn’t nearly good enough, you felt like you didn’t have enough time to actually thank them for saving you. You had known all of them from high school except you had known Katsuki and Izuku much longer. You all had known each other since you were kids. Katsuki was always the one pulling your pigtails while Izuku was always the one to let you paint his fingernails.

That mentality pretty much stayed the same as you all got older. Katsuki would still relentlessly tease you but he was always much meaner to any of the guys who hit on you. There was a rumor that went around that your quirk made you super good in bed and it had every guy chasing after you for the wrong reasons. He never hesitated to hit first and ask questions later when men cat called you in his presence.

Katsuki had always had a very special place in your heart. He had always been your protector as well as your biggest supporter. There were so many times he and Izuku had talked you out of quitting school. Every so often an article would circulate about how villainous your quirk was and how you deserved to be locked up. The pressure would eventually get to you and you would end up in one of their rooms pacing and holding back tears. They helped you learn to love your quirk, but Katsuki was the one who secretly worked with you on weekends to help you get stronger. He thought if he showed you that you were more than just your quirk you would finally stop listening to all the fucking gossip blogs.

You kept bouncing with excitement the entire time Dabi walked towards the front door. He paused a few steps away and gave your thigh a sharp slap. “Hey, quit that. If you keep bouncing like that, I’m going to drop you. Behave.”

You wondered what crawled up his ass. He was just praising you a few minutes ago and now he’s grumpy. There’s no way he could be that mad about Katsuki coming to visit. He knew this was going to happen. He was holding you when Katsuki promised as much. You understood that he didn’t really get along with most people, and Katsuki was honestly kind of hard to get along with in the first place. But that still didn’t give him the right to be so pissed about him being here.

Dabi opened the door but remained in the doorway, effectively blocking Katsuki from entering. “Can we help you?”

Katsuki had a duffle bag on his shoulder as well as a box at his feet. “You could start by letting me in asshole.” He looked at you and his scowl softened just slightly, “Hey dork. Think you could convince your chauffeur to get out of the way?”

You giggled and gave Dabi’s neck a pinch. Dabi responded by giving your thigh a pinch, “Eye for an eye brat. You want me to let him in? I think I deserve an entrance fee?” He pointed towards his cheek as if he was asking for a kiss.

Katsuki’s eyes traveled from where Dabi’s hand was firmly squeezing your thigh to where he was pointing at his cheek. They were furious. He was about to just shove his was through when you wrapped your arms tight around Dabi’s neck and leaned backwards. Effectively throwing his body weight off and giving Katsuki more than enough room to enter the house.

He quickly let himself in and made his way over to the couch where he dumped the box he was holding. “Alright so here’s your first care package.”

“Don’t see why it needed to hand delivered…” Dabi dropped you on the couch next to the box so you could rummage through it.

Katsuki quickly took the empty spot next to you, totally ignoring Dabi. “I brought you a couple new manga that I know you’ll like, and I think Deku added a bunch of pictures and shit from your old apartment.” He reached over you into the box and pulled out a shirt and you grinned ear to ear. It was an old All Might shirt that you had stolen from Katsuki years ago because you liked how soft it was.

He smiled and put his arm around you, “I thought you might like that. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been wearing it in your absence. So, it might smell like me.”

Dabi walked by grabbing Katsuki’s arm and casually flung it off your shoulder. Then without a word started going through the box. “Did you remember the bathing suit?”

You could hear Katsuki’s palm’s crackle with irritation, “Yes… I did. But don’t get your pervy hopes up. I got the most conservative one I could find.” There he goes being overprotective for no reason… well that wasn’t exactly fair he did have a reason. He had just found you in the most horrendous condition possible and immediately had to hand you off to a former villain who kidnapped him in his youth… so yeah. You decided you were going to cut him some slack.

“Well considering it’s for her fucking rehabilitation…she could be naked for all I care. As long as she’s comfortable and gets those damn legs moving.” Dabi could feel his temper starting to get the better of him. Considering Bakugo was known for having the worlds shortest fuse, he needed to keep his cool. He could not be the one to snap first.

“Oi! Don’t act like carrying her around is such a burden!” Bakugo stood up now squaring off with Dabi.

Dabi’s eyes flared but his voice remained even, “I never said it was a burden… In fact, I love carrying her around. However, I don’t plan on making it a habit because I want her to get better.” His voice dipped and got angrier, “And don’t you talk about her as if she’s not sitting in the same room as us! She can speak for herself…”

He looked at you and you gave him a pointed look. ~Calm down please.~

He took a deep breath and signed back, ~Trying~

Katsuki looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “When did you guys learn sign language?”

Dabi walked into the kitchen and started making dinner. If Bakugo wanted to make a house call, he needed to let him have his fun. He’d be leaving soon enough, he just needed to let the two of you be until then. “We started learning a couple weeks ago.” He pulled out two bowls because that’s how passive aggressive he is. If that asshat didn’t get the hint by the time dinner was ready, then he’d just have to sit there and watch you eat.

Dabi had to stop for a moment and contemplate this. Why was he this mad? Why did he actually care this much? You were obviously going to be close with the loudmouth. You’d known him for a long time. He needed to remember that just because you lived with him now doesn’t mean that you even want to be here. For all he knows you’re just tolerating him because you have to. It’s not like the two of you have lots of late-night conversations.

He looked over when he realized it had been pretty quiet and saw that the two of you were speaking in sign. His hands on yours helping you with a new word. “Okay so obviously you know sign too.”

Katsuki had a shit eating grin. “The doctors told my mom when I was young, I’d eventually go deaf due to my quirk. I’m basically fluent.” He continued to sit and teach you new words and damn if you weren’t happier than he had seen in the past two weeks.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he went back to making dinner. “Go ahead and teach her whatever you want. Be fucking useful for once.” Dabi continued to make dinner, shoulders tensing every time he heard you giggle.

Katsuki had his phone out and was showing you everything you had missed. “Okay so surprise, surprise, Deku and IcyHot are like a thing now.” He showed a couple cute pictures from Izuku’s private Instagram. The last one was of them kissing under an umbrella. “Kiri and Mina had a kid. Little rascal is probably about six months old now. He’s cute but his teeth hurt like hell.” He picked up his hand that had a tiny crescent shaped scar, which had you absolutely grinning.

He ruffled your hair, “Oi, you won’t be smiling when the brat bites you next.” He continued to scroll, “OH! I almost forgot the best part.” He turned his phone to you and showed you a picture of someone’s mug shot. “Fucking grape juice got arrested.”

Your eyes widened. You waited for him to go one when you realized he was waiting on you. He was giving you an opportunity to contribute to the conversation. ~Why?~

“Trying to buy a prostitute… Literally no one was surprised.” He looked back to the kitchen to make sure Dabi wasn’t listening. When he was satisfied, he pulled you closer into his side and threw his arm around you. “Hey, you would let me know if he was mistreating you right?” His fingers carded through your hair and his eyes roamed all your visible skin for signs of abuse.

You nodded your head and pulled your shirt further down, suddenly aware that you weren’t wearing pants. You had just gotten so used to it you had forgotten. He noticed you fidgeting, “He hasn’t touched you, has he? Because I swear to God I’ll rip out every single staple in his body then make him eat them.”

You leaned further into his to side to hide your blush. He most certainly had touched you. And you still hadn’t worked out how you felt about it. He hadn’t made any attempt to do it again beyond the casual touches when he carried you or when he helped you in the pool. He had made it a habit of sleeping in your room, but he always stayed on his side of the bed.

Katsuki must have taken your lack of response as a confirmation. “I’m going to kill him.”

You sat up straight and started shaking your head, ~No. No. Wrong~

“Wrong? So, he hasn’t touched you then?”

You gulped. Either way you answered was bad. You either told him the truth and he rage killed Dabi, or you lied to your best friend… Either way you were fucked.

As you struggled for an answer Dabi walked in and handed you your bowl of curry and rice. “Don’t worry I’ll answer that one for you, and stop at me at any point you think I got it wrong.” He took his seat in a recliner and took a bite of his meal. “So, we had a moment where something could have happened, but we stopped before it got too far and decided we were just being emotional and moved on.”

Katsuki’s hand started to heat up and crackled but you pulled on his arm to get his attention, ~Right~

He still looked angry, and maybe even a little hurt, which had you all confused again. He looked like he wanted to throw one of his famous temper tantrums. You knew how much it was killing him to not pounce on Dabi, “Keep your disgusting hands to yourself from now on. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you taking advantage of her!”

“You don’t speak for her!”

You clapped your hands to get their attention, ~Enough~ You gave each of them a glare and it was silent after that.

You took a bite of your dinner to avoid Katsuki’s eyes and was met with the most delicious meal Dabi had made to date. You cleared your throat to get Dabi’s attention. You pointed to Katsuki then your bowl of food and signed ~where~?

“I didn’t think a busy hero like him would have time to stick around for dinner.” He continued to pick at his food, “Speaking of which. It’s getting late. Hate to keep you from your super important work of dress up and make believe.”

Katsuki gestured to the duffle bag he carried in. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere tonight.” He was looking at you now. A look of concern ghosted across his face. “Consider it a wellness check.” He leaned forward and gave the side of your head a soft peck, “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

You felt yourself sinking into his familiar warmth. If there was anyone who felt like home, it was Katsuki. Sure, he was in the middle of a ridiculous pissing contest with Dabi at the moment, but you really couldn’t blame him. He’d always been a stubborn, territorial, asshole. But he was also kind he cared about you and for that you could forgive him.

“Whatever, just don’t get in the way of our routine.” Dabi stood up with his now empty bowl. “You know that law, eat every last bite. I’ll get your bath started while you finish.” He looked at Katsuki, “You can have my room… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He didn’t even wait for a response as he left the two of you alone.

Katsuki visibly relaxed into the couch once Dabi had left the room. “What did he mean by law?”

You smiled as you pulled out your journal and opened it up for him. You pointed to law number seven. At first, he was pissed that Dabi would give you a new set of rules to live by, like you were some kid. But then he realized there wasn’t a single “law” on here that didn’t have your best interest in mind.

His eyes scanned over the rest. Chuckling at some silly laws like ‘Wake up whenever the hell you want’, and ‘No fucking shrugging.’ He had to admit that he also hated it when you would do that. It wasn’t that you were indecisive. It was that you knew what you wanted but you never wanted to speak up for yourself. Always willing to bend over backwards to make others happy. Never wanting to give anyone any more reason to dislike you.

His heart hurt at the laws that said things like, ‘No drugs’, ‘No locked doors’, and ‘Never say sorry for something that isn’t your fault.’

The law that had his blood boiling however was the last one, law number thirteen. ‘I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.’ He furiously flipped through the pages that came after, trying to get the idea of you ever giving Dabi consent to touch you out of his mind.

You had finished your food by now and stretched your muscles out. All in all, this had been a great day. You walked on your own in the pool AND Katsuki had come to visit. You were so tired you just knew you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Hopefully you wouldn’t have any nightmares.

You put your hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and used it to push yourself to your feet. You wobbled for a few seconds but otherwise kept your footing.

“Hey look at you! I thought you’d be too tired after what we did in the pool today, good job.” You looked up to see Dabi leaning in the hallway. “Your bath is ready. One for me, two for blondie.”

Katsuki scrunched his nose up, “Wha-“

You held up two fingers and Dabi nodded. “Alright looks like you get bath time duty today.” Dabi smirked when Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Don’t freak out. She’s gotten to the point where she can get in on her own and some days she can even get out too. You just need to hang out by the door in case she needs help.

You wound your arms around Katsuki’s neck, and he picked you up. His heart pounded as he followed Dabi to what he assumed was your room. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Hey wouldn’t be the first time we bathed together.”

You giggled and hit his shoulder. You knew he meant when you were kids. But you couldn’t stop the blush that took over you at the thought of him just hopping in the tub with you now.

Dabi tensed up as he stopped at the door to your room. “Alright… y/n you know the drill if you need me just yell.” He winked at you after his stupid joke and you flipped him off.

He walked back to the kitchen and opened his laptop. He started to go over tomorrow’s sign language lesson early. He’d never tell you this, but he does this every day. You were so much better at picking it up then him, he needed to do extra work just to keep up.

You signed ~Thank you~ as Katsuki placed you down next to the full tub.

“Okay… so I guess you just let me know if you need me by…?”

You shrugged as you knocked on the side of the tub. Part of you really didn’t want him to leave, even if it was only for a few minutes. You reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He gave you a curious look, but softened when you signed back, ~Stay~

“Does he usually stay?”

You shook your head, Dabi always insisted he had things to do and it was important you do some things on your own.

Katsuki took a seat on the floor with his back against the tub. Even with permission he was determined to protect your modesty. You slipped your clothes off and quickly lifted your legs into the tub. It was almost too easy now and you smiled at your progress.

You sighed as the water warmed your skin. Your hand reached for Katsuki’s and gave it a squeeze. You could see the tension in his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back before intertwining your fingers.

“Y/n… I -I know I’ve already said I’m sorry. But I still have this mountain of guilt sitting on my chest. You were… are… one of the most important people in my life. And I was so wrapped up in my own life I didn’t see the signs. I didn’t notice that something was wrong.” You could hear his voice crack as he tried to hold his emotions down. “I knew you went on secret missions that you couldn’t always talk about. I watched as you came back looking defeated and… and broken. I thought there was something going on, but I just kept reminding myself you worked with heroes… that I was just being paranoid.”

You felt tears build in your eyes and you were glad he wasn’t looking at you. You rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb encouraging him to keep going. He obviously had a lot he had been bottling up. “You know Deku and I went to your agency one day after you had been gone for a few months and all they told us was your mission was confidential, and we weren’t related to you so they couldn’t even tell us if you were okay.” He sniffled, “I went there every day after work and got the same bull shit answer. It drove me crazy.”

He took a deep breath to settle himself, “So we started asking about you. Started looking for you in all the underground trading routes.” A long silence followed as he got lost in the memories of looking for you. “It almost took us a year, but we finally found someone who had seen you. Some small-time villain whose quirk was invisibility. He had snuck into your agency to try and break his boss out. But when he found him you were also in the room…”

He didn’t keep going, and for that you were grateful because you didn’t want to hear it. You knew what came next and you didn’t exactly want to relive it.

“I’m so sorry. I failed you. I was supposed to protect you. I promised you I’d be by your side forever, and I-I-“

You pulled his hand towards you and gave it a kiss before putting his palm on your cheek. He hesitantly turned and looked at you with tears in his eyes. You activated your quirk and washed over him with feelings of love and understanding. You watched his eyes close as he shuttered. You may not be able to speak, but you could still communicate to him through feeling that you were okay.

You reached over and brushed a stray tear away and pulled him close to plant a kiss on his forehead.

When your bath was over, he waited for you to wrap yourself in a towel before picking you up and depositing you gently on your bed. You pulled the All Might shirt he had brought with him over your head, and crawled under the covers.

He had only wanted to lay there until you fell asleep, but he ended up falling asleep soon after you.

Dabi walked in hoping to tell you goodnight but found the two of you asleep facing each other. You under the covers, Bakugo on top of the covers. Your hands stretched out towards each other as if looking for each other even in sleep.

Dabi’s hands were glowing with livid flames as he left in a hurry.

He went straight to the abandoned cabinet that held all of the now off-limits drugs. He could take just one… you would never know.

He growled as he shoved the bottle back into the cabinet and slammed the door. Reaching instead for a bottle of whiskey. He went to the couch and poured himself a drink.

And that’s how you and Bakugo found him the next day. Passed out on the couch empty whisky bottle on the floor next to him.

Dabi chugged his coffee as his head pounded. He was no stranger to hangovers, but ever since you came to live with him, he hadn’t felt the need to drink that much. At one point in his life it had been the only way he could get any decent sleep.

He watched from his seat at the kitchen island as you and Bakugo made breakfast. The smell of bacon hit him and his stomach growled. Shit.

You could see his sour expression and when Bakugo wasn’t looking you stood from the chair you were sitting in. Dabi kept his eyes on you like a hawk. Watching for any signs you might fall. You stumbled but he remained still. He knew you were okay. The Island was right there if you needed to hold on to it. You were only a few steps away from him now. Arms stretched out and a smile on your face.

You knew this would cheer him up, and get him out of whatever shitty mood he was in. Only one more step and you’d be there. To this Dabi stood up and took a step away from you with a playful look in his eye as if to say come and get me.

Bakugo continued to talk, not even noticing you weren’t sitting behind him anymore. It wasn’t until the loud thud of you hitting the tile floor that he looked up. He immediately rushed to you while Dabi laughed.

“Why the fuck are you laughing? She could be hurt!”

Dabi just continued to laugh, “I’m laughing because it’s fucking funny. She’s fine.” He titled his head to the side. “You’re a tough cookie aren’t yeah y/n?”

You giggled and nodded. Dabi took you from Bakugo’s embrace “See she’s fine. I think you need to remember she used to be a pro hero. I think she can handle tripping over her own feet.” He stood up and sat you down in front of the laptop.

“Okay time to learn some sign language, looks like today’s all about food. Oh good, you love food.” He ruffled your hair before picking a piece of bacon off of your plate and biting into it.

The little back and forth continued the entire day. The biggest argument came later when it was time for the pool. You groaned and decided you weren’t in the mood. ~No pool~

Dabi rolled his eyes at you, “Yes pool. You even have a bathing suit this time. So, get your ass in gear.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. “Listen here brat. It’s the law. We work on getting your strength back every single day. No negotiations.”

Bakugo didn’t like the tone Dabi was talking to you in. “Oi, she’s not some puppet for you to boss around. She said she doesn’t want to so that’s it. Back off!”

Dabi’s eyes flared with anger, “You don’t have a fucking say in this. This is between me and her.” He looked at you again, “If you had asked nicely, I might have let this go. Just because we have a guest doesn’t mean you can disregard the laws and neglect the routine. Now be a good girl and let’s go put your bathing suit on.”

Bakugo stepped between you and Dabi, “Be a good girl? What the fuck is your problem. You don’t own her.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose trying to remind himself why he can’t just fight the obnoxious asshole in font of him. “I don’t own her, but I also refuse to sit here and watch her wither away. We have laws to make her better, and I refuse to deviate. It’s clear I take her recovery more seriously than you do.”

Bakugo shoved Dabi back, “The fuck you do! This isn’t some rehab she checked into. You have no right to boss her around! What makes you think you know what’s best for her?”

Dabi was practically screaming now, “Because I’ve fucking been in her shoes, you ignorant ticking time bomb!” His chest was heaving now, “Did you ever wonder why I had to fake my own death just to get away from my own father… who was a fucking HERO! I’ve been poked and prodded and pushed past my limits. Except I didn’t have someone there to help me and I ended up in the League. Depressed, blood thirty, and hell bent on getting revenge on the so-called heroes that were so okay with a little boy practically killing himself every day just to produce the next number one.”

To this Bakugo didn’t have an answer. He’s heard Todoroki’s horror stories. He could only imagine what Endeavor had put Dabi through.

Dabi looked at you know eyes still furious, “I’ll make you a deal y/n. You put on quite the show this morning taking a few steps on your own. No matter how mad I am, I’ll never tell you that wasn’t a good job. But now you want to skip the very thing that allowed you to take those steps.” He walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in his recliner. “Make it over to me right now, with no help and we can skip the pool.”

With a determined scowl you pushed yourself out of your seat. Bakugo went to grab you “Y/n you don’t have to do-“

“Yes! She does, now let her do it. She needs this. Y/n you can do this. Now prove it to me and prove it to yourself.”

You took your first step, determination written all over you face. Step followed step and you had already walked further than you had this morning, but you were only about halfway there.

Dabi’s eyes were patient and his voice was calm. “Come on y/n. You can do this. You aren’t broken. There is nothing wrong with you. Just keep walking.”

You could feel the tension in the room stiffen. Bakugo watched you with his hands out as if to catch you, always your protector, always your safety net. But you didn’t need that right now.

Your knees started to wobble and buckle, and involuntary whine left your lip as you went down to one knee.

“Come on you can’t give up now. You’re doing such a good job. Now push yourself back up. I’m right here. Come on. Push harder!”

You felt a tear streak down your cheek as you tried to push yourself up but only ended up on the ground.

Bakugo was at your side in an instant but you pushed him away.

“That’s right y/n you can do this. I believe in you. I don’t care if you have to crawl. You’re so close.” You pulled yourself up enough to crawl across the rough carpet. You got up to your knees then slowly you stood.

Dabi saw the fire in your eyes and it sent a shiver down his spine. You were going to do this even if it killed you. It made him think about what you would look like in battle. If you looked even half as gritty as you do now he had no doubt you had strong men cowering at your feet. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he gave that back to you. That power, that strength, that untamable will, he knew was somewhere inside you laying dormant.

He got out of his recliner and lowered himself to the ground, “Come on your so close now. Keep going Y/N!”

With one last push you practically jumped into his arms and collapsed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but for the first time since coming here they were happy tears. You did it. You walked all on your own.

He cooed into your hair as he rocked you back and forth, “You did such a good job. You did it. I knew you could. You can rest now. I’ll get you some ice cream. How does that sound. We’ll celebrate.”

You nodded as you clutched Dabi’s shirt.

Bakugo disappeared for a few minutes and when he came back he had his bag over his shoulder. He kneeled down next to you and pressed his forehead to yours. “I think it’s time I got back to work. I still need to take down the bastards that did this to you.” He smoothed his fingers through your hair and looked to Dabi, “I think you’re in good hands.”

He made his way to the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

*****************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need

[thishintoflove]

A Sweet Package - BobaDin Week Day 5: AU

Pairing: Din Djarin / Boba Fett

Rating: General (no warnings aside from mild swearing)

Summary: Boba has to deal with an unwanted package at his front door. Luckily, the hassle turns out to be worth it when he meets the package's true owner.

A/N: Here, have some tooth-rotting fluff because these boys deserve it! (ﾉ☉ヮ⚆)ﾉ ⌒*:･ﾟ✧

Also available on AO3

“Ouch, shit, god dammit,” Boba swore as he stubbed his toe.

He shifted his keys to his other hand and leaned against his apartment door as he bent down to rub his toe, glaring at the offending object.

The damn package was in the wrong place. The worst part? He hadn’t even ordered anything recently.

It had been a long day, he was tired, and he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with unwanted shit outside his door.

Boba was inclined to just let it sit there, but he had to move it out of the way if he didn’t want to repeat this stubbed-toe incident tomorrow. As he glanced down again to shove it away with his foot, he noticed that the package had actually come to the correct place, but it had come to the wrong person.

It was his address, but he was certainly not the “Grogu Djarin” to whom it had been addressed.

He’d been living here for almost three months and he hadn’t received any other pieces of mail. Surely there was a forwarding address set up for this Grogu Djarin? The outside label had a personalized message that read, “To Grogu. I love you to the stars and back, little one. Happy Birthday! Love, Dad.”

Ah shit. He was going to have to do something with it.

Boba did not want to be responsible for a kid missing out on his birthday present. Grogu Djarin would probably be expecting his package-- what if this was his only birthday gift? Another closer look at the box revealed a “Perishable: refrigerate after opening” label. Damn, he certainly couldn’t just keep the package and hope that the father in question would come by and collect it. Given its size, weight, and postage markings on it, whoever had ordered it had spent quite a lot on getting it sent.

Boba sighed and bent down to carry the package inside. As he set it down on the kitchen table, he saw that there was no return address, just the information from the company that had sent it. A bakery. A well-known, quite expensive bakery.

He had a very clear picture of what was going on now, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. Boba’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t his responsibility, technically… But the thought of a little boy not receiving his birthday treat, from his father no less, was enough to soften his heart.

He couldn’t get the vision of this unknown man telling his sad child that he wasn’t getting a birthday cake this year out of his head. It was terribly sad...

Oh great. He was on a mission now.

Boba had to get the cake to this child. He needed a plan. Returning to sender would be useless at this point, so he had to find out the current address of Grogu Djarin’s father.

He grabbed his phone and typed up a quick message to his landlord and leasing agency.

"This is Boba Fett from apartment fifteen. Do you have a forwarding address for the previous tenants? I’ve received a time-sensitive package for them."

After sending the message, Boba ambled around his apartment and tried to find something to take his mind off the Problem sitting on his table. He took some cold noodles out of the fridge for dinner and listened to a voicemail from Fennec that mostly involved her complaining about a recent customer.

Right when he was about to dive into invoices from work, his phone buzzed with a message from his landlord. It contained the former tenant’s email address.

He scratched the back of his head as he considered how to compose the email. He figured keeping it formal was a safer bet. He didn’t want this guy thinking he was some kind of creep. Boba hummed to himself as he typed out a message.

"Hello. I’m the current tenant of your previous apartment and I’ve received a package addressed to you. It says “perishable” on it so I figured it was important. Let me know how you’d like to proceed."

He leaned back in his chair, assuming that it would take a while for Grogu Djarin’s father to respond. But it didn’t. Within five minutes, his phone chirped with a response.

"Thank you! I was wondering what happened when it didn’t arrive today like it was scheduled to. It was my own fault for forgetting to update my address when I ordered online. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks for letting me know what happened."

Boba frowned as he read the response. The man obviously wasn’t expecting anything from him. That was a good thing, but Boba still felt guilty. Perhaps the man was too polite to ask anything of him? He decided to dig a little deeper.

"The package is a birthday cake, right? I recognize the bakery on the label. Do you still need it?"

"Yes, it’s a cake. It’s my son’s birthday tomorrow. All the kids in his class are obsessed with this bakery but we’ve never been, so I decided to order from them as a surprise. I’d offer to come pick it up but my son’s already in bed and I can’t leave him alone. Thanks for letting me know what happened to it. You can get rid of it, or enjoy it yourself if you want."

Boba sucked in a breath and considered his options.

"Are you still in the city? I could bring it to you."

"I couldn’t ask you to do that."

"It’s no trouble."

"Okay, then yes, thank you! I can’t tell you how much that means to me. My address is ---"

Luckily it wasn’t too far from Boba’s apartment. No more than twenty minutes. He could handle that.

He sent back one more message affirming that he was on his way, and then he gathered up the package and his keys. So much for a relaxing night. He had to be up early as usual, but the warmth in his chest almost made up for it. Hell, he felt like some kind of personal Santa Claus. Fennec would say that his actions were “good karma”, but deep down Boba knew he was doing it for the little boy on the label. He knew what it was like to have a disappointing birthday as a child. Boba wouldn’t allow another child to experience that if there was something he could do about it.

Twenty minutes later he was standing in front of an unfamiliar apartment door, double-checking his email to make sure he was at the correct address. He knocked gently, since it was late and the kid inside was likely asleep.

After a brief moment, the door opened to reveal a tall, disheveled man. He was fit and looked only slightly younger than Boba, but his hair was a mess and there was... flour? Yes, flour, spilled across his shirt and sleeves. His brown eyes immediately widened in recognition and gratitude when he realized who was at the door.

“Hey,” Boba said awkwardly, hefting the package in his arms, “I believe this belongs to you.”

“Yes, thank you!” the man exclaimed, opening the door wider and stepping into the threshold, “You really have no idea how much this means to me. My son’s going to be very happy tomorrow.”

“I figured,” Boba replied, handing over the package. He allowed his eyes to run over the man’s features again. He was a mess, but cute. Very cute. And he was clearly a caring father. It made Boba want to be nicer than usual.

“You didn’t have to come all this way. Can I pay you, or give you something to thank you-”

Boba just held up his hand and shook his head.

“It’s no problem, really. I wanted to. As soon as I saw the ‘happy birthday’ message, I thought oh shit, I gotta get this to them. I hope your son enjoys it.”

“I’m sure he will. You really did me a huge favor. We moved a few weeks ago and my head’s still all over the place. Finally got a two-bedroom,” the man said, then quickly shut his mouth when he realized this might be unnecessary information.

“Congratulations,” Boba replied, giving him a wry smile. The man blushed and shifted the package under one arm so he could reach out and shake Boba’s hand.

“I’m Din by the way.”

“Boba. Nice to meet you.”

He knew he could walk away right now, but something about the man in front of him was magnetic. Boba was jaded enough at this point in life to not believe in stupid romantic fantasies like love at first sight, but there was something about this man that seemed special. His eyes captivated Boba’s attention, and he found that he wasn’t ready to end their conversation just yet.

“Were you trying to whip up a last-minute backup cake?” Boba asked, gesturing to the flour he spotted on Din’s collar and neck.

Din gave a humorless chuckle and shook his head.

“Just cupcakes. And it was going terribly. I uh, can’t bake to save my life,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Boba hummed and tilted his head. Should he…? Yeah, he was going to be honest with Din.

“Well, I can.”

Din’s brow furrowed and he gave Boba the most adorable confused look. “Huh?”

“I can bake. Actually, I bake quite a lot.”

“You do?”

“Couldn’t tell just by looking at me?” Boba tossed back sarcastically, but he grinned to show the man he wasn’t truly offended, “Yes, it’s my job. I own a bakery.”

“Oh! That’s amazing! And you… came all this way to deliver a cake from a rival bakery?”

“I’ll be honest, when I first saw the package at my door I was ready to dump it in the trash, but your note changed my mind. They’re overrated, but they’re still pretty good. I’m sure your son and his friends will love the cake.”

“I’m inclined to believe you, seeing as you’re an expert and all.”

“But now you’ll have to allow me to get some free advertising out of this deal,” Boba replied, his grin widening, “If you’re interested in trying some real delicious, authentic stuff, come by my place with your son sometime. It’s over on the West Side. I promise I’ll make something that’ll blow this cake out of the water.”

Din’s eyes sparkled as he nodded, “I think that’s a fair deal. It won’t take much to convince my son, he has a massive sweet tooth.”

“Fantastic. It’ll be worth the trip, just wait and see.”

They smiled at each other like they were in some kind of damn rom-com. Boba knew that he was probably wearing the same goofy-grin as Din but it didn’t bother him. So what if he appeared soft? It was near-midnight on Wednesday, there was no one else in the apartment hallway to see them anyway. Even if there was, Boba couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Well… have a good rest of your night,” he said to Din, taking a step back. He had to leave before he did something really stupid, like lean in for a kiss with this overly attractive stranger. This wasn’t actually a movie- it wasn’t like there was a soft-rock ballad swelling in the background.

“Thank you again, Boba,” Din replied, his voice brimming with sincerity. He gave Boba one last soft smile as the man started to step away, “And I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

“I look forward to it.”

As Boba walked back down the stairs, he couldn’t get the stupid smile off his face. Fennec would laugh at him tomorrow when he recounted the story, but he didn’t care. Sure, real-life wasn’t a movie. But this was as close to it as he’d ever come, and you could be damn sure that he was going to savor it.

[tae-cup]

Have a Merry Christmas :) - Yoongi

For: @yoongi-sugaglider​, Eommaaaaaaa 

From: Marria

Pairing: Musician!Yoongi x Author!Reader

Summary: The littlest of gestures have the biggest impact <3

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Warnings: Your heart may burst from the fluff, like a little language here and there. 

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.8k Words

A/N: I am not Christian, but I have a lot of holiday spirit, okay? Also, Eomma I loved writing this for you. Honestly, it’s so cute and I love you and everything you do. You’re doing great and I hope this is what you were hoping for! Alexa, play All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey 

Other: Masterlist

       Moving was a long and laborious task. Your arms felt like jelly as you clutched the heavy box of dishes. You kicked open the door of your new apartment as it began to close behind the line of movers going in and out. 

“Need some help?” A low voice grumbled. Assuming it was your father, you just groaned and nodded. 

“God, I didn’t even know I had so many dishes! I’m pretty sure I just use the same ones. I should give some back to you and mom.” You complained. 

“That’s great, but I’m not your dad.” Ah, shit.

       In your defense, the box blocked a majority of your line of sight and you were a bit preoccupied. What you didn’t expect was to see a handsome man staring at you through narrowed eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips. 

       He wordlessly held open the door for you to get into the apartment and you didn’t say anything out of embarrassment. You set down the box and when you turned around to say thank you and apologize, he was already gone. The door next to yours clicked shut. 

        Great. It wasn’t the first impression you had wanted out of your next door neighbor. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and swiped at the building sweat. You needed to do something to get on better terms with your neighbor. Or maybe you were overthinking things way too much. You began to unpack the dishes while the movers brought in the couch. 

         After the dishes were put away, you went back out to help the movers. On your way out, you glanced at the heavy oak door that was close beside yours. You bit at your lip and turned back to head downstairs. You had wanted to knock, to apologize or just say something. 

      Something something something. You were always doing something. They called you quite the ‘fixer’ in your house. Being an author was not usually a great career choice, but one thing did stand out about you; when something was wrong, you fixed it. 

        Min Yoongi ended up being quite the enigma, as you were soon to find out. Ever since your first meeting, he had been cordial with you. In all honesty, though, he rarely left his apartment. You did figure out that he was a musician and studying in the music department at the local college. How did you find out? Well, you weren’t a stalker, okay, but you did overhear conversations from time to time. The walls were thin. 

       You had noticed how he rarely had any visitors, even during holidays, and a few times you had wanted to ask if he wished to join you for celebrations like New Years or Christmas, but you never did. You found out why he was alone about a year into living in the building. You didn’t speak to him, but there was some attraction to the unknown. 

       It had been Christmas. You were packing and preparing to leave your monotonous life to spend time with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. Warm fairy lights were hung all around your apartment and the smell of cinnamon candles was in the air. 

       You shoved the last of your clothing into the bag. You were decked out with ugly Christmas sweaters, beanies, and boots. Just as you were about to leave, you heard the shouting of muffled voices from next door.

       Neither of those were Yoongi. You knew because, well, he just never seemed like the type to yell in an argument. In all your interactions with him, leaving in the morning, riding the elevator, you knew him to be a quiet and introverted man. 

      The shouting grew louder and you wondered if you should go knock on the door and check in. You exited your apartment and walked the few steps to stand in front of his door. Hesitation filled your mind and you bit at your lip. After a few more moments, you decided against it. You turned and started walking down the hall to the elevator. 

      Suddenly, the door to his apartment opened and closed with a loud slam. You felt yourself jump at the loud noise and you twisted your head to look at the door. Yoongi, with his faded blonde hair, you had noticed he was into dyeing his hair a different color every month, was exiting his room. He took brisk steps, mumbling something about getting some fresh air. 

      You glanced at him as he strode into the elevator with you. He was running his hands madly through his hair in a constant rhythm. Then he took in a deep breath. The elevator already held winter’s frigid air and you could see the lightest of breaths puffing out from his mouth. 

“My parents.” He said simply. You nodded in understanding, connecting the dots. 

“I’m sorry about that.” You said softly. He finally looked at you. You remained still, watching as the numbers ticked downward. 

       After a few moments of his eyes roaming your face, he turned back to look at the metal doors. 

“It can’t be helped. Most parents wouldn’t want their child throwing away their life on trivial pursuits.”

“Trivial pursuits, hm?” Your heart thumped quietly in your chest. You remembered the look your parents gave you when you told them about your wishes to pursue writing. 

“I want to be in the music industry. You know, like those kpop producers?” 

“I see.” You hummed in acknowledgement. 

        The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slowly creaked open. You hurried out, shouldering your duffle bag. The lobby was cold, the doors opening and letting a cold breeze in every time a resident entered or exited. Yoongi stepped out with you. This was the longest conversation you’d had with him for a year, it was oddly calming. 

       Yoongi was a listener and he took his time with his words. You reflected this in a way, but your support system was stronger. When you looked at his tired face, the way his lips pulled into a natural frown, you felt concerned. How was he holding up? 

“I think you should do what you want, Yoongi.” You said, walking to the entrance for the underground parking. He watched you go. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I am.” He said simply and turned on his heel, leaving for the regular entrance. 

       A few years passed like seconds. Your life was just flashing by your eyes. Schoolwork, your job, everything was the same. Each year you led a comfortable lifestyle, you even managed to get your book into the editing phase. More and more, your life and fascination with your neighbor had intertwined. 

      The words you wrote in your book became based on the intrigue of your mysterious neighbor. Who was he really? What did he do besides schoolwork? To you, it seemed he just sat inside and played piano until the early morning hours, just like he was doing now. 

       Christmas Eve was around once again and you were packing, once more, to go see your family. You wanted to leave extra early in order to spend more time with your grandma, whose health had been shaky lately.

      The sweet melody of silent night echoed through the quiet building. You glanced to your far left wall, trying to imagine him sitting at his piano, playing such a melancholic song such a happy day. 

      That’s when it really began; the notes. It started with a simple message scrawled messily on a sticky note. 

Have a Merry Christmas, yoongi. :) - Y/N

       You kept at it. Notes upon notes, everyday, 365 days. It gave you something to do and it was always a nice routine. You were sure he threw away each note and he never mentioned them when you stood in the elevator together either. It wasn’t anything bad. 

        They always just said simple things like Hope you had a good day today. Or Are you alright? Or, your personal favorite, Have you had anything to eat? The questions always ranged based on how you heard him enter his apartment. You tried your best to plan ahead, so you kept at least two in your pocket in case you forgot sticky notes. 

       You often thought over your feelings for him. He was nice, sweet, and on top of it, extremely handsome. You lazily wrote I like you one day on a sticky note and then crumpled it up, stuffing it into one of your pockets. Someday, someday. You told yourself. 

 “Whatcha got there?” You asked, eyeing the white grocery bag in his hand. 

       He stood next to you, as per usual, on the elevator. The elevator itself was old and slow. 

“Just some dried squid.” He said.

       You were quiet, which prompted him to continue.

 “They’re taking them out of stock this week and I don’t know how long until I can get them again. I don’t have time to go anywhere else. So I guess I’ve just got to stock up.” He explained quickly. You nodded, logging the information away into your brain. 

“Personally, I like Kyoho Jelly.” You said. 

“Ah, that’s good too.” 

       The next week, you went to another grocery store, and even though you weren’t a particularly big fan of dried squid, you bought several packages. For the next few weeks, you delivered your notes with a bag of dried squid. 

       Both you and Yoongi had rather...solitary ways of life. He spent his time holed up playing piano and you spent your time hiding in your room writing. In fact, you mostly had the same schedule as each other. It felt nice to have a companion on your short trips to and from school. Even if you didn’t say much, it was enough. 

         You ran into him on the elevator once more. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement and even managed a smile. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. Who wouldn’t be flustered to speak to him? 

        Yeah, he had that nerdy, introvert, kind of look to him, but he had this mystery in his eyes, a coldness that could only be found through years of immense strength and resilience. You knew him to be dedicated. Your way of supporting him was by not knocking on his door when it was 1 A.M. and he was practicing the same piece for the hundredth time. 

       Yoongi held a folder of sheet music in his arms and you held your manuscript. The blonde looked at your arms. 

“You’re a writer?” He asked. 

“You could say that.” You shrugged and hit your floor number. You stayed still as he stepped in after you. 

“That’s...really cool.” He said awkwardly. 

        You were a bit surprised. You had expected him to be cool as a cucumber, very put together, but he seemed almost nervous as he stood beside you. He fidgeted quite a bit and averted his eyes away from you. 

“I guess.” You said softly, a warm feeling growing in your stomach. Then you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

 “I wanted to apologize about uh, the way we met.” You chuckled. “I didn’t know you weren’t, achem, my father.” 

          He looked away and you saw his shoulders shake with a silent laugh. Then he turned back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile left on his lips and he slowly let his face fall back into a neutral position. 

“It’s no problem.” He said stoically, then he broke character, “I found it quite...humorous and you’re cute so it’s no big deal.” 

        Then he flushed bright red and stumbled over his next words.

 “I mean, I-nevermind, this is awkward.” He rushed and took a deep breath. He released a sigh and you smiled at him. 

“Thanks.” You said gently. 

        The elevator dinged and you stepped out, waiting for him. Did he know about the notes? Why hadn’t he said anything? You glanced at his flustered face and decided against questioning him. He stepped out and began to walk with you in silence to your door. 

        You finally made your move. 

“Hey, I know I usually leave these on your door, but since you’re right here...I’ll just give it to you, okay?” You reached into your pocket and picked up the first crumpled piece you found. You handed it to him sheepishly and he took it, holding it carefully in his soft hands. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

He opened his door. “See you around.”

“See you-” the door shut. “-around.” You finished quietly. 

      You reached into your pocket and pulled out the other piece of paper. How’s your day? It read. Your face paled. Oh god, no. The only other paper in your pocket had been...I like you. 

         Your book had been slipping away from you. The editing process was tedious and time felt like it was getting away from you. Yoongi didn’t know about your book, he didn’t know how you wondered if he was alright, like some weird infatuation. It was normal to be worried about your neighbor, right? 

       On the subject of notes, you had gotten a rather harsh wake up call from your publisher. He had explained, in simple terms, that your book wouldn’t be successful. 

“The writing is okay, I guess, but what happened halfway through? I was sure the main character was going to end up with Brandon, so why does it so suddenly change? I think this will throw off readers looking for a cute romance novel.” He said, as if reading off a script. 

“But it’s realistic. You can’t fall in love and expect to be with the first man you lay eyes on.” You argued. 

“Look, Y/N, this is just supposed to be a ditzy romance novel. Don’t get into your head with metaphors and realism. That’s not what you’re good at and not what we signed up for. Thanks.” 

        And the call had ended just like that. Distressed was an understatement. You set your phone down on the counter and collapsed on the couch that lay next to the wall that connected Yoongi and your apartment.

          He was playing Nuvole Bianche, a rather sad song, and it pushed you to the edge. Everything was going wrong. Yoongi hadn’t even looked at you since you got the notes mixed up and you were sure he was purposefully avoiding you. 

        The tears began to stream down your face, painting your cheeks. The piano rose in intensity and a sob tore out. Years of work, and for what? 

      The disappointed looks on your parents’ faces, the raised eyebrows of your professors, all the words they had said to you in subtle jabs at your character, your career choice...were they true? Were they right? You curled in on yourself, sobbing loudly. You didn’t even notice the piano music halt. 

      The only sound were your sobs, the hopelessness that settled in your bones. Maybe you should just stop. Then, there was a melody. A soft tune that had waited for a quiet moment. You’ve got a friend in me. 

     The joyful piano contrasted that of your own despair. You lifted your head. Had he heard? Did he know? You swiped at your eyes as the tune grew louder. 

      You got troubles, and I got 'em too. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. We stick together and we see it through. 'Cause you've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. The melody swept you up and carried you away. 

       You could breathe again. 

       The TV was turned up loud, blaring the message that had you sitting on the couch this Christmas instead of with your parents. 

“A large avalanche occurred late last night, blocking a major roadway from Seoul to Busan. Officials say no one was injured in this disaster, however this will prevent hundreds of people from returning home this Christmas.” The reporter said.

       You watched the screen, mind blank and eyes open. The screen itself was blurred to your vision and you were currently pushing away the harsh reality that threw a wrench in the happiest day of the year for you. You had no one. Still, in your misery, you blinked and stood. You had to do the one thing you knew how to do; write. 

      So you wrote. You wrote well into the afternoon. You wrote until your fingers cramped and your stomach growled with hunger. You wrote until you could hear Yoongi slamming his apartment door at the end of the day. 

     Your misery was on display on this blank white page. Wasn’t this supposed to be a good day? You bit your lip and looked to the far wall. Yoongi was silent. No piano music was heard. 

       In a split second decision, before your inspiration vanished and your mind became numb from writing all day, you jotted a few words down onto a sticky note. You surveyed the yellow paper. It was such a small square, but the words on it meant something. It was weird how words can mean so much. 

       You left your apartment, stretching out your back which had been hunched over your computer. You swallowed thickly and stuck the note down on the ground. You knocked and waited. No response. 

      You sighed and left, opening your door and slamming it shut behind you. You felt angry tears pricking at your eyes. It was stupid, trying to understand your handsome neighbor, trying to connect to such an obviously closed off person. 

       The sound of his door opening softly and closing made you stop. You checked the time. You had three hours to midnight, three hours to Christmas. 

       Yoongi hesitated, staring down at the little note. Have a Merry Christmas :) - Y/N

       He bent down and picked it up, the note reminding him of the first note last year. Of course he noticed the notes everyday, of course he felt grateful, happy that someone cared. It had been a long time since that happened. He flipped over the note. Nothing on the backside, yet the simple words seemed to taunt him. 

        The notes had made him feel...funny inside. Yoongi wasn’t all too great at figuring out what was going on in his head, he just plowed through life as fast as possible. He spent his time lost in work, piano, or sleeping.

       Your notes felt like a time when he could calm down and stop for a bit. How are you? I hope your day was good. Little things that made the biggest of impacts on his world. 

       He needed to do something. The blonde, now mint haired, couldn’t understand how he felt about you. All he knew was that he very desperately wanted to make you happy. He had gone radio silent for a while, unsure of what to do when he discovered your note; I like you. What was he supposed to do with that information? 

Maybe you like her back? His conscience said. 

        He thought of the crumpled notes in his desk, the replies never sent. He knew what he needed to do next. 

        30 minutes to midnight. You were sprawled on your bed like you were making a snow angel. A soft rapping on your door made you sit up. You glanced at the time and then you stood. You made your way to your closet in an attempt to throw on something other than your pajamas.

        In the end, you just chose leggings and a random christmas sweater in your half packed bag. Looking at the open bag made you frown and your mood dampened. The knocking sounded again. 

“Coming!” You shouted, pulling on socks and walking to your door. 

        Upon opening the heavy wood, you saw no one. Then, on the ground, was a sticky note.

  Have a merry Christmas :) - Yoongi. 

        You picked up the note, heart thumping wildly. You turned to look at his door. It creaked open slightly and All I Want For Christmas is You began its lilting melody. 

       You folded the paper up and stepped towards his door. You gripped the note tightly, hope blooming in your chest. He sees you. The little voice in your head pushed you to continue you into the apartment. 

“Yoongi?” You called. The piano continued playing. Your heart thudded in your ears and you glanced down the short hall. 

        A board was propped up at the end, illuminated by hazy yellow Christmas lights. You stepped quietly and quickly towards it. You noted the similar layouts of your apartments.

       It was like all the pieces of an apartment (a hallway, a room, a bathroom, etc) but in a different order with the same dimensions. As you walked closer to the board, you could finally make out what was on it. Your breath caught in your throat. 

       Notes. Little sticky notes were pressed all over the board. You leaned closer and the familiar scrawl of your handwriting came into focus. All of your notes. Every. Single. Note. You had ever sent him, was on this board. 

        You felt tears spring to your eyes. He had kept them. You managed to hold back the flood as you read over each note with fascination, because beside every note, was another note in Yoongi’s handwriting. 

How are you? I’m okay, how are you?

Did you eat today? Yes, there’s no need to worry. 

        They were in various conditions. Notes, you realized, that he had intended to respond to you with. Each one was crumpled slightly, as if he’d thrown them out and then decided against it. 

        A bag of dried squid sat next to a bag of Kyoho Jelly. You smiled a little, remembering your gesture of goodwill. In the very middle, however, you caught the note you were sure he had thrown away. 

I like you. I like you too. 

       Time froze. The tears were down your cheeks in an instant, the overwhelming emotions flooding you. The note’s words played over in your brain, like his soft breath in your ear.

       I like you. I like you too. The music came to a stop and you were pulled from your thoughts, twisting around to face the mint haired man. His eyes were soft, a gummy smile on his face. 

“You didn’t think I would let you spend Christmas alone after all of this, hm?” He teased. 

       You let out a little chuckle and walked towards him. He stood from his piano and met you in the middle of the room. He took your hands in his and squeezed softly. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“No, I should thank you.” He glanced at the board of notes. “You didn’t need to do all of this.” 

“It was just a silly infatuation.”

“There’s nothing silly about it, Y/N.” He pulled you closer ever so slightly. Then he looked up pointedly and you followed his line of sight. Mistletoe. 

      Without a second thought, without a doubt, which was a surprise since you had many, you tilted your head and met his lips with yours.

       He pressed into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving his lips in time to yours. Yoongi had an aloof and cold demeanor oftentimes, but he found he was only ever warm when he was with you. 

       You pulled away, breathing a little harder than before. His cheeks were tinged pink and yours were as well. You were flustered, captivated by his chocolate eyes. The clock on the wall chimed midnight. 

“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.” You breathed. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Then he leaned in once more and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. 

[sebbybooks]

War of Hearts

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

"For some reason, the two of us arguing was

like some sick form of foreplay."

c.l

"It is settled. . . I can't ever leave my house again in the daytime!" I say feeling winded as though I've run a marathon without stopping for any sort of break. I pulled my fingers from out between the blinds as I quickly stepped away from the window. Fearing that he would spot me any second if I stood there any longer. I felt a growing sense of dread rise in the pit of my stomach. It started to tangle itself into all sorts of knots while the sense of realization began to kick in. That paired with a chaotic feeling of rage and excitement flowed through my veins causing a web of mixed emotions as I made my way out of the sunroom. I must have manifested him without even knowing what I was even doing. Or maybe the universe was playing some cosmic cruel prank on me? A tiny part of me just accepted the fact that I was simply destined to have unconventional awkward moments for the rest of my adult life.

"I mean what are the odds Leona?" Sonny called out in amazement from inside of the sunroom as she continued to gaze at the horror scene continue to play out while the movers carried more boxes into the house next door.

"Next to fucking impossible!" My voice rose in a nervous pitch. I wandered over to my sofa and purposely fell face forward on to it. Perhaps if I laid there long enough it would swallow me into it? I would have take any given option offered to me at this point if it meant I wouldn't have to come face to face with Sebastian. It wasn't suppose to happen like this or at all for that matter. It's been two months since I've last spoken to him and after our last conversation I knew that was the final nail in the coffin. I was certain that our paths were never going to cross again. If they did that meant I had made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in hell.

"Don't you think you are being a tad bit dramatic babe?" I could hear it in the cadence of my best friend's voice that she didn't fully understand the severity of my problem. Boredom on top of being drunk off of wine is a powerful combination that will most likely definitely drag you down a dark and twisted rabbit hole. Signing up for a dating app for example and talking to guys I had zero intention of talking to after a twenty four hour period. But, atlas one had to slip through the cracks and make me fall completely apart over him. I turned my head to face Sonny, "He hates me and to be quite honest the feeling is mutual!"

Clearly glossing over what I had just said to her she continued on, "Look on the bright side at least he wasn't a catfish!"

I released a guttural sound into the pillow. "Terrific. I'll shoot Max and Nev an email to tell them to call off the camera crew." I could hear that she was muttering witty comebacks underneath her breath, however my brain simply chose to block them all out.

I was too busy recounting all the endless nights I lost sleep over talking to Sebastian, making plans that would never see the light. The guy completely interrupted my life. There were moments where I caught myself smiling at my phone when I saw his name flash across my screen. My heart felt like it was going to implode and I got high off of that feeling to the point I became addicted. At night it amplified when I would pace my bedroom floor back and forth like a love struck girl anticipating on what Sebastian would say next. I wish I had a time machine, because I would use it to go back and break my phone into a million little pieces. Foolish, gullible, naive are just a few of the words I would use to describe myself for allowing myself to think that just for a moment any of that was real. So the second I start to move on and phase him out of system completely he moves into the house right next to mine. There was no denying that fate was certainly screwing with me.

"You never even gave me all of the dirty details of what exactly happened between you and sexy jeans." She said wistfully, still drinking him in from the where she stood.

I laughed despite myself. I looked to my friend and said, "Because I would rather picture him falling off of a cliff." I broke into a wide grin before slamming my face back down into the couch cushion.

"I don't believe you." She feigned a sigh, "He is flawless." I could hear the heels of her Jimmy Choos clack louder and louder against the floor as she joined in me in the living room.

"He keeps his flaws well hidden." I said, my voice barely audible with it being pressed into a sofa cushion. Cutting off any air circulation.

"One day you liked him then out of the clear blue sky you didn't.The guy told you he wanted to fuck you in front of a mirror to see every inch of you!" She said in amazement.

"No comment." I muttered.

Sonny huffed. "Well you certainly can not hide from him for long."

I pulled myself upright and slouched back on the couch in a more relaxed position. "Watch me." I said with full confidence.

The rest of the day flew on by in a slow pace. The transition in the sky gave away to its tell tale signs that the time was changing. Sonny and I spent our afternoon mindlessly scrolling through high fashion mood boards on Pinterest. Salivating over the vintage couture and places that were way out of our travel budgets as of right now. Together we planned a hypothetical trip to Northern France so that Sonny and I could visit Claude Monet's garden in Giverny.

It opened up a window of conversation for me to go into a spiel about Monet's love for art and botany. Not even for a second could I mask my fascination for art history. Which costed me a Milano cookie getting thrown in my direction, taking it as my cue to stop my blabbering. I couldn't help myself if I wanted to I had a weak spot for the subject. After all I did need a positive distraction so that my brain could cancel out any and all thoughts of Sebastian that crept into my head.

Usually when the mere thought of him invaded my mind it was very difficult to remove him. I was hardly paying any attention to what my friend was talking about for the last two hours. Though frankly I don't believe she noticed. It took the chiming sound of my doorbell to wake me from my trance.

Sonny stretched her arm out to stop me from getting up." Ahh let me get it! It's time for me to go anyway." She bent down and within a few seconds she retrieved her pumps and swiftly put them on her feet.

"I'm not expecting anyone it's probably just a delivery guy. I'm waiting on a package to arrive today." I tried turning my neck like an owl to get a better view out of the window behind me. I didn't see a postal truck or anyone dressed in uniform for that matter, fleeing like they just lit a fire on my steps. I never fully grasped the concept of why a delivery worker sprinted away like they were in a game of tag.

"Did you by any chance order a man?" She asked with humor laced in her voice.

"What?" I asked in utter confusion, seconds went by and she never responded with an actual answer. I called her name again. Still nothing, I focused my hearing and I could make out the sound of two muffled voiced mingling together from my front door. Curiosity driving my actions I quickly hopped up from the couch tiptoeing around the corner with a smirk on my face. Because I was under the guise that Sonny was flirting with the guy delivering my packages. Like a bad sketch from a variety show I was quickly faced with the reality of the joke. Soon as our eyes locked the charming smile he wore on his face dropped as quickly as mine did.

Sonny leaned her back against the door widening it just enough so that we could see each other. "Damn. Well this should be interesting."

[georgemackayhey]

Lean On Me

"Can you do something with both George and Dean maybe like seeing the reader cry and comforting her?" "Hiii, could you write a George x reader where they’ve been dating for a while and he’s jealous of her. Love your writing"

Right, so I've gone on and combined these requests because I failed to think up two separate ideas. So here's this monster! Thanks for askin' y'all! Enjoy ♡

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"We're officially not unofficial!" You announced, clinking your second glass of wine against Dean's tumbler full of whiskey.

You'd been cast as costars in an indie rom-com, and were staying in the middle of nowhere Ireland for a month, to begin filming. Tonight you'd been shown to your separate motel rooms but wound up sharing a drink in yours, catching up and enjoying each others company before tomorrow's first big shoot. And since you'd been seeing George, it didn't take Dean long to ask how his friend was doing.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean let out a bright chuckle before taking a swig of his preferred alcohol.

"Well as you know, George is off filming in the US and I'm stuck here, filming with you." You pulled a face but broke out into laughter before your playful disgust could be read. You adored Dean, and there weren't many people you'd rather be stuck in a dingy motel with.  

"Before he left two days ago, we agreed not to see anyone else while we're both so busy. And to keep seeing each other when he's back." You rambled. Dean shifted on his side of the love seat as you shared a drink and conversation.

"Really?" Dean's eyes winded as his smile grew, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

"Yeah," You grinned. "I know he wanted to take things slow before diving into a serious relationship, but it sounds like he's ready to pick up the pace." You informed although you figured Dean already knew. They were already the best of friends when you'd come into the picture.

"I'm going to tell you something." Dean leaned in a little closer as if someone might have been listening in. You brought your glass of wine to your lips to prepare for what he might say.

"George has some pretty serious feelings for you. But he's been burned before. There have been one too many girls who wanted him for all the wrong reasons." Dean went on like an older brother, though he was quite the opposite,  "The fact that he's mentioned getting more serious with you is a big deal. I hope you're ready for that because I think you're perfect together. But if you're not-"

"I am, Dean. The last thing I want is to hurt George and I swear to you I won't let that happen." You traced an X over your heart and gave your friend a stern nod, the best promise you had to show.

Your friend snorted a laugh but returned your serious nod as you both silently agreed to have George's best interest at heart.

___

"Action!" Your director shouted through a laugh as you sucked in a deep breath. You were placed at the end of a foothill where the damp grass caused you to slip every time you tried a new take.

Luckily the director got a kick out of your silly little mishap and you'd stopped laughing enough yourself to try the take again for the fourth time.

Dean was standing amongst the rubble of a halfway demolished castle, waiting for you to run into his arms. Your first day of shooting was focused on the climax of the film, and it wasn't hard for either of you to fake years of chemistry for the camera as you'd been friends behind the scenes for months now.

That's why when you finally nailed running into his open arms, prepared to be swept off your feet, you kept on laughing when his foot slipped, sending you both to the dirt.

"You weren't supposed to do that!" You laughed. "We finally almost had it! I was depending on you." You fake cried, while Dean apologized through bouts of laughter.

"Take ten, we'll suss it out!" Our director laughed while a small crew scurried to help you up and clean up your costumes of dust.

After finally getting the final shoot right, you were sent off to change and grab dinner with the rest of the crew.

The middle of nowhere Ireland didn't have much to offer, so the company you kept became even more valuable.

Behind Dean, you followed the director and his wife into an unassuming pub, where you ordered drinks. You sat close together and spoke about what you'd gotten right on set and how you hoped for scenes in the future to turn out, now that you'd started bringing your characters to life.

When your extra-large drinks came, you took a selfie with the pints and followed Dean's strict orders to text the photo to George.

"Tell him I love him and wish that he was my leading lady, instead." Dean teased.

"Well, we'll just see if I catch you when you slip up next time!" You feigned offense while you formed a text to George. Under the photo of you and his dear friend, you wrote:

You're missing all the fun! But I'm missing you more. Hope your day on set is going well xx

You hadn't quite reached the heart-eye emoji stage, with George, but all you wanted to do was flood his message thread with sappy saying. Delivering all your romantic lines today was made easier if you thought of saying them to George. You couldn't wait for the film to end so that you might have the chance to actually kick off what you'd started with the man.

You met George at the Golden Globes, at one of the after-parties. Your agent knew his and you'd been wanting to congratulate the stars of such a groundbreaking film, anyhow. George and Dean were sort of a packaged deal that night, but by some miracle, you'd been left with George to finish off your free cocktails and talk about how the music was much too loud.

You went home with a funny feeling in your chest, thankful that you got to spend an hour chatting away with the handsome man, knowing you'd only gotten extremely lucky.

But not long after then, you met George again. He was all alone in a coffee shop on the lot of a studio you'd both been filming on opposite sides of. He offered you a seat across the tiny table from him, where you sipped your drinks and dove into conversation like you'd known each other for years before then.

That was the day you realized you had feelings for George, when you swore his bright eyes lingered on your lips. When he asked if you were going to some silly Hollywood party. You said yes, even though you hadn't planned on it before then.

That's how things kept going with George, for a while. You'd run into each other at events and waste the rest of those evenings sharing passing thoughts and strong opinions. Around the third or fourth run in, you got the guts to compliment his suits and the way he laughed. He finally invited you to a party you wouldn't have otherwise known about.

It was someone's birthday, and every surface of their mansion had been turned into a minibar. Dean was there, and when George left you two to find some drinks that weren't just straight vodka, Dean asked what was going on between you and his best mate. George had clearly been smitten, but you'd yet to discuss anything like that with each other.

With a push from Dean, George asked you on a Sunday morning stroll along the lake, your first official date, both glad to finally be able to call what you'd been doing more than "hanging out." That was the day you'd found out about each other's upcoming films. When George held your hand on the park bench. When you agreed to keep seeing each other when you'd finished all your work. Agreeing to keep up as many late-night chats as you possibly could, while you were worlds apart.

___

You woke up not so long after you'd fallen asleep to your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You worried you'd missed your morning alarms but a new sort of excitement took over your nerves when you realized George was calling.

"Hello?" You answered, happily snuggling back into your motel bed.

"I'm sorry, love did I wake you?" George worried, his use of a pet name causing your heart to flip.

"Well yeah, but I'm glad you did. We aren't filming until tomorrow afternoon. How's America, then?" You wondered, peering out of the crack in your curtains. The night was dark, and the light from the motel sign reflected off of the crew's cars in the lot. You heard laughter in the distance and wondered what kind of fun you were missing out on.

"It's nice. We're actually ahead of schedule. I might not be here as long as I planned." George spoke up, and you thought you heard him smile.

"Is that good news?" You wondered. He seemed so excited to head off overseas and start working again, even if his role was only small.

"I think so. Means I'm closer to getting to see you." George said, his voice was warmer and more inviting than all the blankets you were currently wrapped up in.

"That's very good news indeed, then!" You grinned. "But you know I think Dean misses you most of all, and that's really saying something." You joked, thinking about all the conversations you'd had about George since you'd been filming together.

George's delicate laughter was music to your ears. He asked you to send his sappiest greetings to Dean and the pair of you went on telling stories about your days on set. George seemed to be getting on with his castmates and enjoying his work. You were glad to hear it and made sure he knew that you and Dean were having the best of times as well.

You wanted to end the call with George by expressing how dearly you missed him, but something stopped you. Maybe it was your conversation with Dean from before when he warned you how cautious George was to move too quickly in relationships. You figured keeping in touch while so far apart counted for a lot, and settled for wishing George a happy sleep before you hung up to shut your eyes again.

___

As you wrapped up filming in Ireland, you and Dean had become rather inseparable. Since you'd been acting alongside each other almost exclusively, you were a little nervous how filming back in London was going to go. There was a new set of cast members to finish filming with, and you and Dean had developed some kind of secret language you worried might seem off-putting to everyone else.

You didn't want to be the costar known for picking favorites, so you tried your utmost to get on just as well with the folks meant to play your family members and friends.

That meant spending time off the set, going to dinner and hosting game nights when the chance arose. Granted, you and Dean often paired up to beat everyone at Monopoly, you were still succeeding in getting on with everyone.

"Tomorrow is the big fight scene. I just don't think I can punch you in the face, Dean." The actress playing your older sister laughed, reaching over to pinch Dean's cheek.

"Good, 'cause you're not really supposed too." Dean laughed, shooing her hand away. You laughed at their antics as you flitted off to the kitchen to find another beer.

Your phone had been left on the counter, and you noticed it lighting up as you stepped past the refrigerator.

You narrowly missed a call from George, his profile photo filling up your screen. When the call went dead, you noticed he'd tried to call once before then.

"Oh shit, it is Friday, isn't it?" You worried. As you and George each found the swing of your days on set, you figured Friday nights were the best time to check in on each other. But tonight you'd been so wrapped up in enjoying a night off at Dean's flat with your castmates, that you'd left your phone in the other room.

You pressed the call back button and scurried off to the back patio where you wouldn't be bothered.

"Hello love! Everything alright?" George asked. Because even though you'd agreed to call each other once a week, you'd started texting silly little updates to each other throughout most other days. And you hadn't done that at all today.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry I've been away. We've just been enjoying the rare day off."

"Ah, yeah that's alright." George was quick to assure you but you didn't miss the way his voice fell a little flat. But before you could go on apologizing, he spoke up again.

"I'm flying back home tomorrow morning." He spoke, and now he sounded as if he were on the verge of bursting out into excitable screams.

"Tomorrow morning?" You grinned. That was a week earlier than he'd been planning.

"We finished everything today and I've booked the soonest flight back. I can't wait to see you." George cooed through the phone line.

With all your might, you held back squeals and confirmed that you were just as excited to finally see him again, as well. Thought you'd started things off at an awkward time, your feeling for George blossomed more every day. Between flirty texts and late-night phone calls that lasted as long as they could with completely different schedules, you'd fallen head over heels for George.

He made you laugh, even all the way across the ocean. He would ask genuine and thoughtful questions and he'd never hold back from giving you his own honest and meaningful answers. You practically melted through the slots of the patio board when you ended your phone call with "See you tomorrow, darling!"

___

"That's a wrap for today!"

"Holy shit, I'm so glad we got that on the first take." You shivered. It was a little too cold to pretend to enjoy yourself in a swimming pool.

Dean was by your side next thing you knew, offering a robe from the costume lady who was sewing up another actor's tuxedo.

"Just think, all the hard parts are over. Only a few more days left of easy shooting!" Your friend held open the robe as you slid your arms in as a frown pulled at your lips.

"Don't remind me! I don't know what I'll do when all the fun is over." You pouted like a kid and dramatically threw yourself against Dean in a hug you couldn't manage while keeping your hands tucked under your arms. Your friend ran his hands along your shoulder with a laugh as you shivered, but the extra bit of warmth didn't last long.

"Oh my God!" Dean chirped, shoving you away from him all of a sudden. Just before you had time to shout at him for being rude, you noticed what caught his attention.

George! There he was, dressed in dark jeans and cozy sweater, happily chatting away with your agent before Dean got to him. The men shared a happy greeting and a warm hug as you hurried to do the same.

You shoved Dean away like he'd done to you, with a playful "Ha!," and practically threw yourself at George.

He was strong, effortlessly scooping you into his embrace and giving you a small spin from the momentum you'd gained. You'd never greeted each other so enthusiastically, but somehow now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're here!" You realized as George set you on your feet again.

"When you told me you'd be done round five I figured I'd just swing by." He explained, keeping one of his hands gently wrapped around your waist. You weren't very cold any more.

"I missed you." You beamed, soaking up how close he finally was, after so long. George returned your sentiments as you both stood together, enjoying nothing more for a beat.

"I just need to change, then we can get going, yeah?" You shrugged, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your still-damp bathing suit under the itchy robe.  Before you parted, you'd somehow made plans to go get dinner, and Dean was invited along.

"I did miss him too." George shot you a playful face as he moved to find where Dean had gone off too, leaving you to go change. You'd never flown in and out of the makeup trailer faster, sliding your clothes on and checking your face in the mirror before walking out onto the lot calm and cool.

You were totally anxious to finally get to spend time with George, but you hadn't forgotten what Dean mentioned about moving too fast.

You found both men in the car lot laughing together. They both turned their heads to see you approach, smiles widening, somehow.

"Ah, my boys. Let's go eat." You laughed, shooting Dean a look at George grabbed your hand in his.

___

You wound up at a posh Italian place, sat in the curve of a big red booth under George's arm. Dean was nearer the opposite curve, leaning a in a little closer to show George a bunch of dumb pictures the two of you had accumulated on set for the past couple of moths.

"Can I tell him about Taco Bell?" Dean choked back a laugh and looked at you with pleading eyes.

"I guess." You smiled after a beat. One night, not so long ago, you and Dean got plastered beyond belief and wandered to the nearest Taco Bell on foot. Their diner was closed, but their drive-through was open, and you had no choice but to try and walk up to the order box and try your luck. No one would respond, but Dean swore he saw workers avoiding your drunken rambles through the windows. The adventure ended with you having burst into tears, somehow deciding the Taco Bell was purgatory, drunkenly crying into the drive-through box. It made Dean laugh so hard he vomited next to the bins in the parking lot, and the pair of you got sternly asked to leave.

Not your finest hour, but certainly one of many memories from the highlight reel you and Dean had spent the early spring creating together. And it was Dean doing most of the talking tonight.

You spent your time snuggled close to George's side. His hand rested on your thigh while you buried your face in your hands at the end of each of Dean's stories.

George sat back, listened and laughed, and made fun of both of you along the way. You and Dean were in the middle of arguing over the details of your first petty fight when the check came.

"I have been missing out." George took the last swig of his drink.

"Well, we're glad to have you back mate. I better get going, though." Dean explained that he had a meeting with his agent before your day on set started tomorrow. When you all made your way out of the restaurant, you hugged Dean goodbye, calling him some silly nickname you coined in Ireland. He pulled a face at you, waved to George leaving the two of you alone for the first time in ages.

"I'd hate for the night to end, already." George gave you a convincing set of puppy dog eyes, but you didn't need convincing.

"It doesn't have to!" You spoke rather quickly.  "We could go back to mine and watch a film or something."

You offered a bashful shrug, hoping your excitable offer wasn't too forward.

But before you knew it, you were leading George into your studio flat, offering him something to drink as you flipped on a few lights on the way.

Tea was in order. You leaned against the kitchen island while George leaned against the counter, delving into conversation like you did best. He'd asked about some of the pictures you had framed of your family and friends, and you asked about his.

When the kettle rang and you filled two cups and asked George what he was most excited about being back home.

"I'm just glad to finally be with you." He informed, reaching out to pull you closer with the gentles tug at the hem of your shirt. He was a lot more affectionate than you remembered, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"I wish I'd spent all month having all that fun in Taco Bell purgatory with you." George joked, hooking one of his impossibly strong arms around your waist.

"George Mackay, are you a little jealous?" You laughed unbelievably, shoving your cup of tea a little further from you.

"Dean has gotten to kiss you more than I have, yet." George gave a little shrug as his bright blue eyes searched your face. If he was actually bothered, but the tiny smirk on his lips made you believe otherwise.

"Why don't we get up to speed, then, huh?" You rose a brow, resting one of your hands on George's sharp jaw. He didn't waste another second before diving into a kiss that left you breathless.

You expected your first kiss with George to be gentle and soft, just like him. But this kiss was fierce and hot and his hands were pushing your shoulders against the wall. And his lips only left yours to travel down your neck.

Your tea went cold that night.

___

You plopped into Dean's lap for the first shoot of the day. A rush of gratitude swooped over you, glad that you'd been able to work with someone you cared for so deeply.

"For someone who claims to know his best friend so well, you sure were off the mark." You playfully jabbed Dean in the ribs. He shot you a curious glare as a boom mic was being switched out for another.

"Do I even wanna know?" Dean chuckled, gazing up at you.

"All I'm saying, is he definitely didn't seem to care for taking things very slow last night." You proudly hinted as Dean let out an understanding yet mortified laugh. Some of your castmates were trickling onto set as your director checked behind the camera.

"He was totally jealous of all the time we've been spending together." You laughed, picking a piece of lint off the actor's sweater.

Dean's smile faltered as the director called action. Your friend's arms wrapped around your waist as you went on pretending to be in love.

After a long day of hard work, you and Dean started off in the direction of the makeup trailer. You'd kept one arm slung around his shoulders as he went on yammering about the last scene you shot.

George had decided to surprise you on set for the second day in a row, this time with a coffee for you and Dean, each.

"Awe, would ya look at that, we've got our own personal gofer." You laughed, looking at Dean as he gently slipped out from under your arm to accept George's kind offer. The labels on the cups were from a tiny bakery down the street from your set, but you didn't think much of it until you took a sip.

"Oh my God." You looked up to George with starry eyes. You wouldn't have cared what he ordered you, but he somehow got it exactly right. "How'd you know my favorite order from this place?"

You'd never been to the bakery with George before, and you couldn't remember a time you'd mentioned it to him. He really was the perfect boyfriend.

"I asked Dean," George admitted with a smile. You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, and when you turned to do the same to Dean, he was gone.

___

You spent the rest of the week acting your heart out during the day and decompressing in the evening with George between movie marathons and dinner dates.

He was always checking in, making sure you were comfortable and always excited to experience new things with you. And you made sure George knew just how glad you were for his company. And especially charmed by the fact that he could never keep his hands off you. When you sat watching old tv shows he would trace patterns against your knee. He kept an arm around you as you walked the streets and always greeted you with a kiss.

Today, that's how he left you on set, with a sweet peck on your temple and a few words of encouragement. It was your last day, and you just weren't ready to say goodbye to everyone.

The last scene to shoot was of you and Dean, alone together in the isle of a convenience store. Your characters were meant to be having their first big fight, when a song comes over the loudspeakers neither of them can resist dancing along, bickering all the while.

It took you a couple of takes with the director suggesting different approaches, but it was over in the blink of an eye, Dean's character delivering the final line, while you were instructed to keep lazily dancing. After the director called cut, someone turned up the music and everyone cheered as your time together drew to a close.

You danced your way closer, throwing your arms around Dean in celebration.

"You've been the best castmate in the world! Thanks for putting up with me this long Dean. On and off set." You nodded, feeling your heart begin to ache. Dean hugged you back, offering similar sentiments, but unusually, something in Dean's tone fell flat.

You gave him an extra squeeze before he slinked off toward his trailer. While everyone else was offering goodbye hugs, you wondered if Dean wasn't keen to show how sad he was too. You shook it off and went on thanking the rest of the cast and crew for such a wonderful production.

The wrap party was later in the evening, but you left a big part of your heart on the set that was being torn down on your ride home.

___

George made it a bit hard for you to slip all the way into your party dress with the way he kept slipping it right back off. But with a little luck, you straightened his collar and dragged him out the door in the nick of time to party the night away.

The wrap party was at a nightclub where a live band was playing. As you slipped past drink stations and loudspeakers with George's hand in yours, you were reminded of when you met. How you'd keep running into each other on nights like these.

You held his hand a little tighter as the thought passed your mind and smiled up at him like a loon as he moved closer to your side.

"I'm glad you're here with me." You spoke up past the music.

"Me too." George grinned, leaning to place a kiss on your temple.

Your cast members bombarded you with hugs when they noticed you'd made it, asking for selfies and handing out drinks.

When you turned to look for George he'd found Dean and you were glad to skip toward them.

"Long time no see." You joked, sitting perfectly between the two of them.

"I can't believe it's over." Dean shook his head and cast a look to you.

"Yeah, but we still have press tour! And the premieres." You reminded, lifting your glass to your lips.

"Yeah." Dean smiled like he was glad, but you knew him better than that. Now was the time when he'd dream up some wild scenario he hoped would happen as you traveled to advertise for your new film. Or surely at the very least crack a joke.

You almost wanted to ask if he was okay, as he'd been totally reserved for a couple of days in a row. Of course, you knew he was probably just as sad for the production to wrap, but something was off. You could just tell.

___

Dean was weird during the entire press tour. He kept getting increasingly weirder as the days went by. And it was hard to pretend you weren't bothered. You called George every night, begging him to check up on Dean, make sure he was alright, get him to tell what he wouldn't tell you.

Over the past couple of months, you and Dean had grown inseparable and after the film, that changed. You knew your closeness couldn’t have been an act. You knew Dean made genuine connections with people he cared about. He was still close to George after their film had ended. Why was he suddenly so cold to you?

When you did interviews together, it was almost like it used to be, suppressing snickers and sharing secrets through the rise of an eyebrow.

But on the bus and out to dinner, Dean kept his distance. He still spoke with you and asked about your life, but it was like he'd severed himself off from your connection. By the time you got home, you hoped leaving him alone for a week and getting back to normal would make things better.  

But the morning of the premiere, you'd had all you could take. You and Dean were just leaving a hotel conference room after the last of a dozen interviews.

Dean walked a few paces behind you on your way out to the lobby. George was there, waiting to take you to some celebratory lunch before you were meant to start getting ready. He was all smiles, happily greeting you with a warm hug. He started to say something about how excited he was to take you out when you noticed Dean brush by, headed for the door.

"Uh, give me a second." You decided all of a sudden, leaving George in the small waiting area so you could catch your castmate before he reached the hotel doors.

"Dean! Wait." You demanded, fed up with how strangely he'd been acting. You couldn't possibly show up to the premiere tonight without at least trying to make things better.

You had to chase him out of the revolving doors, but when you reached the pavement, Dean was shocked enough by your low tone to stop and face you. You finally had his full attention, thank God.

"Are you okay? Have I upset you, somehow? Did I do something? Please tell me what's wrong." You begged, your throat started to close, but you managed to press the words out in time. As you spoke, Dean's face changed.

His eyes left yours, cast to the floor, and flicked up to somewhere behind you.

"Please talk to me." You begged in a hush. You didn't care about anyone passing by who might have looked at you funny.

"I-I'm sorry. No, I'm not upset with you. I never meant to make you think that." Dean explained in a low manner.

"Then what's going on?" You asked, worried by how reluctant he was to say anything.

"I didn't want to be in the way." Dean started, searching your face. "You and I had gotten so close and when George got back I felt like I was breaking some kind of boundary." Dean sighed, waving a hand as he cleared the air. And right on time, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed George stepping out of the revolving doors to find you.

"I was only trying not to hurt his feelings." Dean finalized. All the while, you tried taking a step closer to your friend. He took a step back.

"Well, you're hurting mine." You batted back, feeling tears sting your eyes. You were much too overwhelmed by the interaction to keep talking to Dean.

As George approached the pair of you, you grabbed his hand and spun around to the other end of the pavement. You heard Dean call your name to try and stop you, but you were already around the corner to where George's car had been parked.

George hurried behind the wheel but didn't start the engine. He leaned gently toward where you settled back against the passenger seat, defeated. You sucked in a sharp breath, determined not to totally lose your cool.

"What's happened?" George worried in a high pitch. One of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulder as you tried understanding everything Dean had just explained to you.

"He finally told me what his problem was and," You let out a humorless laugh as a tear escaped. "And I guess I just wasn't expecting it."

"Oh love," George barely whispered, lifting a finger to wipe your tear away.

"I think... he thinks you're jealous of him? Or at least he was afraid of our friendship coming across as something it wasn't, in your eyes. So he just shut me out. I guess it's nice he cares for you that much huh?" You let out another small, watery laugh.

George had that adorably confused look on his face, casting his pretty eyes into yours.

"That's what he’s been worried over?" George seemed just as confused as you had been. He'd never been able to get a read on Dean, any time George had tried to talk to him about how strangely he'd been acting.  

And you knew George wasn't jealous, not of Dean. He asked to hear all of the fun stories you had about Dean while you'd been working together. George seemed delighted that his friend cared for you so deeply. You knew that.

George reassured you that was the case, admitting he might have been a little jealous of missing out on all the fun, but not of Dean.

You'd calmed down a bit, with the help of George's sweet, gentle talk. He reassured that you weren't silly for crying, and then he took you to lunch. As you fueled up for a long exciting night, George insisted that he would knock some sense into his dear friend and that you'd get back to being just as close in no time.

___

The pair of you got all dolled up, painted for a premier. George's suit complimented your dress and you confessed you were totally madly in love with him. Maybe it was too soon, but it was just the right time, all things considered. George returned your sentiments with a light in his eyes and a smile on his face and everything was almost perfect.

You piled into George's car and drove to the studio where a limo was waiting to escort you and Dean to the premier. You were a packaged deal tonight, and he never invited a date.

Thank God Dean was already waiting at the studio for you, and early. George was able to pull him aside as your agent fussed over a bunch of silly questions. Your director still hadn't shown up by the time George and Dean reappeared before you, both wearing relaxed smiles.

"I'm sorry I never really talked to you. I shouldn't have ghosted you like that." Dean approached, looking dapper in his navy blue suit.

"Never do it again. Yell at me next time, I can take it." You swore, nodding in his direction. Dean rolled his eyes as his smile grew and all the tension between you fizzled away.

"So are we finally back to normal? I want to have game night and I need you on my Monopoly team." You fell back into a familiar banter, longing to make plans with your friend.

"I can't play a single board game without you. We share one brain cell, I think" Dean reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you into a hug, a real, meaningful one. You could have cried again just knowing he would be there to make fun of you for being so emotional.

"Yeah well, you're gonna need it because I'm the best Monopoly player in the British Isles." George sauntered up to the pair of you, seemingly very serious. You let out a loud chuckle as your embrace with Dean ended.

And when you piled into the limo between the two people you cared most about, you wondered how you'd gotten so lucky. It was official, everything was picture perfect.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[tirednotflirting]

"I knitted you a jumper" with bach lashton (ashton is the one knitting obvs)

meghna you are the loml and this was so fun to spend the afternoon on, esp after trying to write these two again for AGGGGGES and coming up with something. so i hope you enjoy this <33333

can be read here on ao3 bc it’s like 3k bc i kinda ran away with this lol

Luke could pinpoint the exact moment the need for a hobby like knitting must have jumped into Ashton’s mind.

He always tried his hardest to wake up by late morning on his days off so his whole day wasn’t wasted away on sleep and could instead be spent running daytime errands or lounging about with Ashton. They had both nestled into each other’s homes pretty permanently in the last few months, their closets and grocery favorites split pretty evenly between Luke’s apartment and Ashton’s little hideaway. (Though Luke has to admit that his heart still flutters any time Ashton calls his little place home.)

It’s also pretty typical that his days off always begin with lazy cuddles beneath warm sheets before one of their stomachs starts throwing a tantrum for breakfast or Ashton decides it’s coffee time. But on one particular morning in late September, Luke wakes up alone, his arms reaching out for a warm body beside him only to find the sheets pushed toward him and the space cold, evidence that Ashton had been up for more than just a quick run into the bathroom. Luke sits up and lets the sheets fall to pool around his waist, his chest bare and cold without his human space heater to keep him cozy. His lips drop into a pout as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s just before noon but he doesn’t remember Ashton mentioning anything about morning plans. 

He drops the phone back onto the bedside table he’s claimed at the home Ashton’s taken up residence at since his “death” earlier in the year. It still never fails to astound Luke how Ashton’s careful way of living has been enough to keep the public believing the whole thing but some days he finds himself thankful for it. He knows their paths likely never would have crossed without it. Well, that and the fact that apparently Luke’s grocery store friend Calum turned out to be a childhood friend of Ashton’s from back home in Australia.

(The two of them had had a good laugh about the whole ordeal about a month or so into this thing that Ashton and Luke have had going since their initial meeting. Sometime in early summer Ashton had mentioned that the friend that owned the place was going to come over for dinner and Luke can only imagine how funny the face he made must have been upon seeing Calum walk through the front door.)

Luke wanders into the closet and pulls on one of Ashton’s jumpers before wandering out in the direction of the kitchen. His favorite mug sits on the island and he smiles after realizing it’s already filled, the color indicating that Ashton added the cream and sugar for him already. He lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip while glancing around the room since he still hasn’t spotted Ashton. But then some movement just beyond the window tells him where to find his boy. 

He pushes at the sliding door that leads into the backyard, Ashton’s massive garden taking up most of the space. Ashton stands in the middle of all of the plots that once held all kinds of summer fruits and vegetables. Even from the door though, Luke can tell that something is wrong. Ashton looks like he’s having an argument with himself but also just looks a bit sad. Luke leaves the back door open (every day they get closer and closer to the point in the year where the weather will no longer allow the fresh air in the kitchen and they’ve been trying to take advantage of it while they can) and wanders over to where Ashton stands, his arms crossed and forehead wrinkled. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Luke greets him, his voice still scratchy from sleep. Once close enough he presses a kiss against the creases in Ashton’s forehead and he feels them relax just the slightest bit beneath his lips. “What’s bugging you?”

Ashton sighs defeatedly and lets his arms unfold to wrap around Luke’s waist, his head dropping to his shoulder. “I picked a very summer oriented hobby. And now I don’t know what I’m going to do until spring.”

The concern Luke had noticed in Ashton’s face makes sense now. Ashton liked to stay busy, he went a little crazy without a project (the years of working in TV seemed to have left that effect even with the way he had found a way to escape that world). The back garden had been a great answer of where to expend all of that energy and their climate and location really wouldn’t allow it again until the spring. He was right.

Luke lifts his free hand to play with the grown out, faded black curls at the back of Ashton’s head. “How about some house plants? We’ve got great light in the living room here and at the apartment?” 

“I don’t know,” Ashton shrugs against Luke’s chest. “Just isn’t the same as getting to spend all day out here, I guess. But I could give it a shot.” 

Luke lifts his other arm to wrap around Ashton’s shoulders, careful that he doesn’t spill his mug. Ashton lifts his head from his shoulder and Luke finds himself pouting at the sad look in the hazel eyes across from him. “Don’t worry, Ash. You’ve got such a creative mind, you’ll figure out something.”

A small smile pulls at Ashton’s lips. “Mm, yeah, you’re right,” he starts as he lifts his face to press his lips against Luke’s cheek. “I’m going to go get what’s left from the green bean plants and we can do them with dinner? And would you mind unlocking the front door? Calum said he was going to stop by with a package from my mom.”

“Sure thing.” Luke drops his arms from around Ashton and lifts his mug for another sip. “Gonna make more coffee too. You want another mug?”

“Yes, please.”

Luke heads back in the direction of the house, his mind wandering with ideas for house plants he remembers his mom keeping around growing up as suggestions to share later. He stops just before reaching the door and turns back toward the corner of the yard that Ashton has made his way over to. “And don’t forget your hat if you’re going to be out here much longer.”

“Of course, love.”

Luke smiles, the domesticity of all of this hitting his heart for just a moment, and makes his way back inside to refill the kettle.

* 

It’s a few weeks into November when the boxes arrive at Luke’s door. 

Ashton’s family had been visiting for the week and Luke wanted to make sure they had proper family time so he had made the choice to stay at the apartment in between shifts that week. He had come over for dinner to meet everyone earlier in the week but after that had left them to reconnect at the house.

He had just woken up about an hour earlier when he hears a knock at the door. There’s no one there when he goes to open it but there are probably close to ten small packages (why they couldn’t have all just been in one big one is beyond him) all addressed to Fletcher Hemmings.

(When Ashton started using the name to get orders delivered to Luke’s place, the brightest blush had painted it’s way across Luke’s face in an instant. 

“What?” Ashton had questioned, honestly. “Hardly anyone really knew my middle name anyway and it’s so much less suspicious showing up at your door if it’s got your last name on it.”

Luke spent the rest of the week with the thought of sharing a last name with Ashton on a constant loop.)

He knows he needs to finish getting ready and head off to the hospital soon, so Luke texts a picture of all of the boxes sitting on the kitchen counter to Ashton with a few question marks and finishes his normal run through the apartment searching for his scrubs (the turquoise ones, of course, since it’s Friday) and makes a coffee before heading down to his car. 

His phone starts ringing as he’s parking at the hospital. Luke smiles at the selfie of Ashton kissing his cheek before sliding his thumb across the screen and lifting the phone to his ear. “Doing some early holiday online shopping, are we?”

“Ha, not exactly. But the family has just headed off the airport so I’m going to head over and make sure everything got delivered, if that’s alright?”

Luke smiles softly as he hits the lock button on his car and heads toward the entrance of the hospital. “At some point you’re going to have to realize you can give up on this whole asking permission to come over. Ash, you literally get packages delivered there and have a key, of course you can come over.”

He hears a dramatic sigh on the other side of the line. “I know, I know. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early, as always,” Luke says while holding his ID card to the door to get the automatic doors to open up. He heads down the hall in the direction of his department, waving to those he passes with a smile. “You think you’ll be down for a sugary breakfast? I’ve had French toast on the brain all week and I want to hear all about your time with the family.”

“Yes absolutely, but I’m going to pick up some fruit on my way over. Balance is everything.”

“Alright, Mr Healthy. I gotta go,” Luke says while sliding in behind the desk and setting his bag beside his chair. “Love you, drive safe.”

“Have a good night, babe. Love you too.”

Luke smiles as he clicks out of the call and sets his phone down before tapping quickly at the keyboard to log in for the night. Behind him he hears someone clear their throat. “You know at some point you’re going to have to introduce us to this sweet man of yours. You know everyone would just be complete heart eyes like yourself if you brought him in one night.”

Luke rolls his eyes while turning to face Alex, the surgical resident that’s been on rotation in their department for awhile. “Fine, I’ll bring my guy in when you bring Jack by to hang out for the day.”

Alex laughs as he pulls out a couple files he must have been digging for out of the cabinet against the wall. “Oh, please, Jack absolutely does not have the kind of sense of humor that I can bring into a pediatrics department. Or at least not while I’m still working here.” He opens another cabinet and shifts the papers around in his arms to accommodate the growing pile he’s creating. “We can just double date sometime.”

Luke smiles and tries to hide his disappointment at the fact that there’s a zero chance of that ever being a possibility. “That would be fun.”

“Have a good shift, Luke,” Alex calls as he wanders back down the hall. “Tell all my favorites that Doctor Alex is bringing cookies tomorrow!”

“Will do!”

Luke wanders back into the break room then to make the first pot of coffee for the night and feels his phone buzz in his pocket while he rests his hip against the counter while waiting for the pot to fill with water. It’s a selfie of Ashton, his hair pulled back into a small bun, holding various bags of produce with a smiling Calum in the background. 

He remembers Alex’s heart eyes comment then and feels a blush across his cheeks as he replies with a string of fruit emojis and the story of the conversation he’s just had.  

*

Luke is used to arriving home after work to a sleeping Ashton against his pillow. Usually he’s wearing one of his t-shirts and it makes him feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy and just generally lucky and in love. So he’s surprised when he gets home at 8am to find Ashton sitting in the middle of the couch, his legs folded up beneath him with a pair of knitting needles in his hands and what appears to be a long scarf stretching out onto the floor. 

“Hey, love, what are you up to?” Luke greets as he walks into the living room after dropping his bag onto its hook. Luke lets his hands drop onto Ashton’s shoulders as he moves to stand behind him, his thumbs rubbing circles at the tension pretty much always present between his shoulders. 

“Well, a while back when I started having that crisis about what hobby to pick up for the winter months my mom suggested I try knitting,” he starts, his voice slow and a little distant as he obviously lets most of his concentration stick to the task at hand. “And she sent me some beginner’s materials and it turns out I don’t suck at knitting and it’s also quite fun. So I ordered a bunch more and now everyone is getting hats and scarves for the holidays.”

“That’s so lovely, Ash.” Luke smiles. Because genuinely, it really is. The living room at the house was filled with various house plants that Ashton had taken a liking to when Luke walked him around the gardening store on Facetime in October but he had been a little worried about Ashton having something a bit busier to occupy his time with. “So all the boxes were like, yarn and stuff?”

“Exactly. Though that’s all in the car now since I didn’t want you accidentally catching a sneak peek at the materials for your present. I want it to be a surprise.”

Luke jumps over the back of the couch to sit beside him. He wraps his arms around Ashton’s middle, out of the way of where his hands work, and presses a kiss to his temple. “I can’t wait to see it. Or wear it. Both, I guess.”

Ashton takes a second to finish his row and then sets his work aside. He turns to let his legs fall across Luke’s lap and drapes his arms across his shoulders. “I’m glad. I’m excited to make you something.”

As he takes in his boyfriend’s tired eyes and smile (it’s obvious this new activity might have gotten him up a bit earlier than usual), Luke can’t help but lean in to press their lips together for a moment. He feels Ashton relax more into his arms and the lucky and in love feeling starts flooding his mind again. Luke pulls back but lets his forehead stay pressed against Ashton’s as they giggle at each other for a moment.

“French toast time?” Ashton questions once they pause in their laughter. 

“Please.”

The feeling continues to float around in his brain as he watches Ashton cut up fruit while he flips the bread on the griddle. Though really, he thinks, that feeling has probably been taking up most of his mind since the day they basically wandered into each other’s lives.

* 

“Would you hate me if I give you your Christmas present early?”

Luke looks up from his spot in front of the fire to find where Ashton stands in the doorway of the living room, his hands holding something wrapped in bright red tissue paper. He checks his page number and makes a mental note before closing his novel and setting it aside. “Of course not, I love presents. Though the last part of yours is still in the mail so if you wanted this to be an exchange, we’ll need to wait.”

Ashton beams, his eyes bright and happy. “No, no. I’m okay to wait for mine but yours is done and I want you to have it right now.”

Luke smiles and he pauses to take a sip from his first coffee of the morning. “Well, I would love to have it then.”

Ashton wanders across the room and takes a spot on the floor beside him and places the package between the two of them. Luke tugs at the ribbon wrapped around the paper and gently rips at the tape to pull it open. As he realizes what’s inside, his lips fall open just a bit, from shock or joy or both he’s not really sure. “Ashton, I-”

“I knitted you a jumper,” he says, his voice quick while his fingers nervously play with the edge of his sweatshirt. “And it was a little daunting and probably a little bit beyond my skill level with this but you like jumpers and I wanted to make you a jumper.”

The smile on Luke’s lips continues to pull across his face as he lifts up the soft, baby blue jumper that Ashton made with his own two hands and Luke specifically in mind. His heart feels so full, like it’s going to burst out from his chest and across the room. “Love, this might be the kindest thing anyone has ever given me. I’m like, never going to take this off.”

He watches Ashton relax some then, his smile shifting from eager into something more fond. “Well, you may want to wash it every once in a while but I really appreciate the enthusiasm. Also try it on now. I want to make sure it fits.”

Luke hands off his mug to make sure he doesn’t knock it over and Ashton takes a sip while Luke unfolds the soft garment and pulls his arms through the sleeves. It fits like a dream, which especially surprises him since Ashton never asked to take his measurements. Though he supposes he could have just been taking a tape measure to another one of his jumpers at some point in the last month. 

Luke sits up then and scoots closer to Ashton until he can pull himself halfway into his lap and wrap his arms around his neck. “Thank you, Ash. You’re perfect. I love you so much.”

Ashton pulls him closer toward his chest and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you too. Glad I can keep you cozy with my crafting.”

Luke laughs gently before he straightens up, moving to stand. “Alright, now it’s my turn to show you my love and appreciation in the best way I know how.”

Ashton pulls a face that’s a mix of confusion but also something suggestive, and Luke only rolls his eyes dramatically. “I’m gonna make the second pot of coffee.” He winks down at where Ashton still sits on the floor as they both start laughing.

Ashton reaches a hand up for help off the floor. “Man of my dreams, you are.”

And as they wander into the kitchen, Ashton hopping up onto the counter to keep his bare feet off the tile floor, Luke can’t help but agree.

*

[xxdearlybeloved]

Sweetheart

Modern!John x OC

A request from @twistedrunes​: Hello my darling, May I request number 28. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.” with John. Anytime in the modern era, but it made me think of a situation where the OC is an activist of some kind (perhaps a feminist in the 90's?). But really anything that takes your fancy. 😊

A/N: I usually do reader inserts, but this is in third person. What we have here is an alternate universe where John Shelby has a new neighbor. There is fluff angst and smut all in here.

She pulled onto the street, still learning to navigate her new neighborhood and the turns that led to her new house. She got out of her car, stretching and feeling the sun on her face. Her car was full of the last things from her old apartment. Piles of clothes and a few boxes.

Jo was used to being independent. She paid for her own school, had lived alone since she was 18, and had prided herself on being able to do most things on her own. It was how she was raised.

Now she was moving into her first house that she owned. She grabbed her keys and as much as she could carry with one arm. The house was small, but it was perfect because it was hers.  

John saw the car before he saw the new neighbor. He pulled into his driveway just as his new neighbor came outside, getting her last box from the car.  He didn’t really know the previous neighbors too well. A couple with a baby on the way had moved out only last week.

John parked his car, rolling his toothpick in his mouth as he watched her pull the box across the backseat of her car and take a deep breath. Clearly, she needed a hand and John figured it would be the neighborly thing to do.  

He couldn’t stop himself from walking towards her, surprised by how nervous he felt. She didn’t notice him at first, her upper body fully inside the car as she picked up items that fell out of her last box.  

“Oi, sweetheart. Need a hand?” he called, watching her emerge from the car and gracefully unfold before facing him. She didn’t say anything at first, running her eyes over this intruder who had the nerve to not only call her out of her name but also assume that she needed help.

Finally, she made eye contact. Her anger faltered a little as she felt herself falling into his baby blues. His eyes were confident, playful, but she couldn’t tell if he was completely harmless.  

She’d take the chance. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart,” she said, her voice controlled as she kept her eyes locked on his.  

“What do they call you then, love?” John asked, a twinkle in his eye as he drew out the last word. She wasn’t annoyed but she was undeniably intrigued.  

“Jo,” she replied, pulling the hair tie from her curls and shaking them out before pulling them back again. John had to focus to keep his jaw closed as he watched her lift the box. Clearing his throat before offering again to lend a hand.

“I got it,” she said, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she carried the box inside.

-----

He must have been home because his car was, so she didn’t understand why it was taking him so long to come to the door. It was chillier out than she expected and she couldn’t wait for the warm comfort of her own home.  

Finally, he came to the door, towel draped around his waist as he peered at her. His face softened from annoyance as he took her in. “Jo,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to drop off your mail,” she said. “They delivered it to the wrong address”

“I’ve actually got something of yours, as well” he said, a sly smile on his face. “Come inside,” he stepped out of the way so that she could enter. She was hesitant at first, stepping across the threshold and almost melting at his scent as she passed by him.

He led her to the kitchen, taking a box off the counter that had clearly been opened before handing it to her. “I thought it was for me, didn’t read the name until I saw what was inside.” She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but as she peered into the box, she could have died in that very spot.

“So I take it you don’t have a man, then?” John’s expression was playful, but Jo could not make contact as she held the vibrator she had ordered in her hands. Why didn’t he just leave it at her door or something much less embarrassing for both of them.  

“I don’t need one,” she said, taking the toy out of the box and waving it at him. He laughed and that helped her relax, too.  

“I never said you needed one, love.” The look he was giving her made her heart stop. She definitely wasn’t cold anymore.  

“It’s Jo,” she said, clearing her throat. “Thank you for my package.”

“Anytime,” he replied, and she all but sprinted out of the door.  

------

Since she’d arrived, she’d been told that the best place for a Saturday night was The Garrison. It had taken months for the friends she’d made to get her there, but they finally did. She had to admit that it was fun, dressing up and letting her curls be free.  

She also couldn’t deny that she liked the attention. While she didn’t need a man, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t think that she missed the physical intimacy of another person.

Once inside, she understood why the place was so popular. The music was amazing, and she immediately lost herself with a guy who approached her on the dance floor. Usually, she would ignore them, content to dance alone without a stranger’s hands testing their boundaries on her body.

But tonight, she let just let it go.  

The guy was nice enough, so she let him buy her a drink, giving her friends the heads up that she would likely be leaving soon. She usually wasn’t fond of one-night stands, but it had been awhile since she’d felt properly touched by a man.  

She felt a hand on her arm and figured it was her beau, so she smiled at her friends and prepared to thank the guy for her drink. Instead she turned to find John.  

He looked down at her, an unreadable but amiable expression on his face. As she faced him, the slight inebriation did not stop her from smiling at him.

“You look beautiful, Jo” he said. John smiled at the look of surprise that came across her face. She knew where her mind wandered when placed her toy between her legs and she wondered if John could tell.  

She felt someone tap her on the shoulder and turned to find the guy she was originally expecting. He smiled at her, handing her the drink before looking at John.  

“Oh, Mr. Shelby, I didn’t mean to interrupt” Alan said, completely terrified. She looked at John in confusion, but he just looked at the other guy seemingly unbothered.

“You’re not interrupting, John is my neighbor,” she said, introducing the two. She sipped her drink while they made awkward small talk. Who knew silence could be so loud in a nightclub?

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” John said, squeezing her hand before walking away and disappearing into the crowd. She was confused not only by the interaction, but also by the small pang in her heart she felt when he walked away.

“So, John is your neighbor?” Alan asked. The question caused her to smile.  

-----

As she got out of the Uber the next morning, she paused on the sidewalk, looking up at John’s house. It was still early, but she found her feet leading her up the path to John’s house. Her heart raced as she rang the doorbell and the time seemed to slow down as she waited for him to come to the door.

She was just about to leave, scolding herself for being so foolish, when the door opened. There was a sleepy looking John, with a smile on his face that she couldn’t help but return.

He didn’t say anything as he stepped aside, letting her in.  

He closed and locked the door, following her to the kitchen. “Breakfast?” he asked, going to open the fridge and pull out some eggs.  

“You cook?” she asked in pretend shock.

“I’ve picked up a few things along the way,” he said, turning on the stove and pulling down bowls.  

Neither of them said anything as John got to work, scrambling eggs and making toast. Jo watched him, feeling strangely at peace. She couldn’t remember the last time that someone had cooked for her, especially not a guy.  

John turned to find her smiling. “What’s so funny?” he asked, setting a plate in front of her before joining her at the table.  

“Nothing,” she replied. “You didn’t have to do this, thank you.” Jo couldn’t help staring, trying to reconcile the John that Alan described with the John that sat in front of her now.  

Apparently, this man was a gangster from a family of gangsters. They owned the Garrison as well as a sports betting house that looked legitimate from her online search. As she glanced around his modest house, there weren’t signs of the insane amounts of money that Alan said they had.

John watched Jo look around as if she was searching for something, but decided not to point it out. She was still in her outfit from last night, but seemed well rested, which probably meant...

“Got a lot of sleep last night, then?” John asked, getting up to take the plates back to the kitchen. He laughed at the look of shock on Jo’s face.  

“Excuse me?”  

“I just thought, you look like you got plenty of sleep last night,” John shrugged, a coy look on his face. Jo felt embarrassed. She hadn’t had sex like she planned, losing the desire after delving into her online search of the Shelby brothers and falling asleep on Alan’s couch.

She woke up and found herself at John’s house without even really knowing why. But maybe she did know why, and just maybe she was embarrassed that clearly John knew why as well.  

She stood up, cursing herself for being a complete idiot, thanked John for breakfast and let herself out. She didn’t turn around when he called after her.

John ran his hands through his hair, wondering when he would stop completely fucking up every relationship he had. He didn’t even really know Jo and already he had scared her away. He finished the dishes, thinking back to the quiet silence they shared at breakfast. He thought about how beautiful she looked the night before, laughing with her friends.

He knew he didn’t have to work hard to find girls to take home. That much was simple. It was finding a girl that he wanted to have breakfast with that had become the challenge, and yet again he had managed to blow it all to hell.  

Jo stood in the shower, letting herself cry.  She had internalized her parent’s message of independence so much so that she was afraid she had never learned what it was like to have someone to depend on.

She toweled off, put on comfortable clothes, and found herself on her couch watching reality television. She decided to order food, not feeling very much like cooking or cleaning.  

The doorbell rang and she grabbed some cash for a tip.  

She opened the door to find a very attractive, put together John. He had returned from an afternoon at the shop and couldn’t stop himself from coming to her house once he saw the lights on.

They both stood there, the silence feeling like a physical force between them. Jo took a tentative step back, before moving out of the way to let John in. As Jo closed the door and faced John again, she could see the emotion behind his eyes.

She stepped closer to him, letting her thumb brush his cheek before stepping up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Her heart was pounding, she was sure he could hear it, but it didn’t stop her.  

She stepped back, preparing to apologize for her actions, but John closed the distance again, kissing her harder. She should not have been surprised that he was such a great kisser. She felt his hands on her waist, running up her body so slowly it made her shudder.

“Do you want me to stop?” John whispered into her lips. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body and lips into his. John continued to run his hands over her, loving the little sounds she made as he explored her body.

His hands were at her waistband and she froze. “I can stop,” John said. She felt him pressed up against her and wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel him inside her. She moved her hands to his pants, undoing the zipper and pulling him out before stroking him slowly and firmly.

“You don’t learn that from a toy,” John said and she smiled, bringing her lips back to his. John pulled her pants and panties down, helping her out of them before picking her up by her thighs. Jo was pressed against the wall, one arm wrapped around John as the other hand impatiently guided him inside her.

This wasn’t the standard fuck for John. This wasn’t a Shelby groupie trying to get bragging rights with her friends. He wanted Jo the feel good, each thrust intentional and measured. She was lost in the pleasure of it all. John’s firm hands digging into her thighs, his grunts in her ear.

Breathless, she asked him to go faster, and he obliged. John felt himself losing control, but he wanted to feel her come and he told her so.

It seemed like that was all she needed as she fell apart in his arms while John whispered encouragement in her ear. She felt John come inside her and they both stayed there panting, unmoving.

John placed soft kisses on her lips as he lowered her down. She led him to the bathroom, cleaning him off first before starting to take care of herself. They heard the doorbell and she laughed.

While John went downstairs to get the food, Jo wondered what would happen after he left. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to happen.  

She went downstairs to find John setting out the food. The rest of the night passed with them on the couch, neither wanting the other to leave.

The next morning, Jo’s alarm woke them both from the couch. John’s sleepy face was becoming one of her new favorite things. He helped her throw away the containers from last night before preparing to go to his own house to shower and get to the shop.

Jo walked him to the door, feeling a small pang in her heart as she watched him step outside. Before she closed the door, John turned as if he had forgotten something.  

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” John asked. She nodded. He took out his phone and handed it to her so that she could put in her number. She handed the phone back to him and he leaned in to kiss her.  

“See you tonight, sweetheart” John called behind him.  

Jo laughed as she closed the door.

[ms-maj]

I humbly request Holiday Prompt #33. 🖤

I apologize it’s taken me so long do to this, and also, because it’s me, it may be a skosh angsty. Oops? Sorry, @bettycooper ;) But thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you like it!

(Prompt #33: Two friends have exchanged letters since a childhood letter exchange program and one delivers their Christmas letter in person this year)

Jughead passes the infamous Town with Pep! sign and fights the urge to press the gas pedal to the floor. Instead, he opts to grip the wheel tighter, which has no bearing on how fast he’ll get to his intended location like the accelerator would but, his tires are bald and his breaks are shoddy and he has something very, very important on his to-do list this Christmas. 

She had once said it was like living in a snowglobe. The snow, perfectly crisp and sparkling in the sunlight, crunched heavily under his tires. It was almost strange to see snow that looked so, so white. In Toledo, unless it was currently snowing, it all just looked like icy mud. It was more brown than white, nearly always, and didn’t exactly exude postcard-esque vibes for Christmastime. Riverdale is the opposite, too bright for December, with the sun gleaming off the crystalline snow; he feels dark, dour and completely out of place.

On his left Pop’s comes into view and he immediately recognizes it as it was featured front in center in the very first correspondence he’d had with one Elizabeth Cooper. In that very first letter, in perfectly practiced cursive, Betty (as he was informed she preferred) gushed about the local diner and their divine burgers. At ten, or eighteen, that was a very important factoid. The neon lights call to him like a beacon but he’s in Riverdale for a reason and, if all goes well, he might just be lucky enough to see the inside of the place. Jughead knows that it’s a long shot, that he may have very well messed up the most constant thing he’s had through his adolescence, but he plans on pleading his case.

It was fifth grade, Mr. Davis’ class, they got paired at random—a sister school card exchange. Most of, if not all, the kids in his class exchanged just the one letter with their penpal, but Betty and Jughead sent letters through the school until their teachers got tired of doing the leg work and insisted they exchange addresses. From there it evolved to emails and chat apps and eventually late-night phone calls and random text messages. He grew closer to her that he did many of the people in his day to day life.

As high school progressed, so did his feelings, all the while everything was falling apart around him. The beginning of his junior year found his mother and sister absconding, leaving Jughead with his newly sober and well-intentioned father. But the pressures of parenting proved too much to bear as Forsythe the second slipped back into the life that prompted his wife’s departure in the first place.

That life, the one Jughead was desperate to escape, seemed to be his only choice if he wanted to continue living. His father’s downward spiral caught him in the undertow, pulling him toward something he was so certain just a few months prior he’d be able to escape. 

Betty’s belief in him had been his tether. They had never met and yet she was the most constant thing in his life; this positive and stable light that he could find in his darkness. They were that for each other. There was a time when his phone would go off at seven a.m. and he would just know it was her. Early and late were never good, but he always did his best to talk with her through the anxieties and she always, always listened when he went off on a tirade about the misfortunes of Jughead Jones. Betty was always an objective third party, but never once diminished his feelings even if she didn’t necessarily agree with him. 

And she certainly hadn’t agreed with him about joining a gang even though she’d only said as much the one time, it was enough. It sat in the back of his mind, festering and taking up space. This person who cared so deeply for him disliking a fundamental piece of his identity…except even then it was more about how he didn’t want her to have any place in that life. She said it never changed anything for her, that she still knew him even if he didn’t. Jughead had refused to concede, deciding for both of them that they should embrace the physical restrictions of their friendship and take some space.

The memory of her heartbroken “Okay,” the last word he heard in her voice before the line disconnected and the emptiness took root.

She was—is—his best friend. 

He thought he had messed it up—thought he messed everything up, but the red envelope currently sliding across the bench seat of the truck proves him wrong. As he turns on to Elm Street he wonders what he’ll say when he sees her.  

Will he tell her he was scared, too? That everything she had said was everything he himself had felt and yet, never been able to articulate save for to the character he’d written that bears her a striking resemblance? Can he tell her that he’d gotten too deep in the life he swore he would never fall in to…and can she possibly understand that his survival had depended on it; that pushing her away and refusing to acknowledge her (their) feelings was what he needed to do for the both of them?

Jughead parks his truck across from the Cooper house after his GPS alerts him that he’s arrived at his destination. He looks at the garland ensconced columns and the gold bow glittering on the massive wreath on the door and lets out a shaky breath. The snow starts to fall again, the big fluffy flakes that haphazardly float to the ground and blanket everything in ephemeral white. It is the ideal Christmas Eve. Any other day he’d be lamenting just how unrealistic this would be and yet…

Checking himself in the rearview mirror, he makes a few minor adjustments to his hair and beanie and nods encouragingly at his reflection before grabbing the small package and envelope on the seat. One last deep breath and he was out of the truck, crossing the street and praying to gods he didn’t believe in that everything else went as well. 

As he climbs the steps the reality sets in: somewhere behind that door is the one person he cares about. He’s going to actually see who he’s bonded over Baxter Brothers and Tracy True with. He’ll be able to touch her if she’s so inclined to let him. Jughead’s finger hovers over the doorbell for a second before it’s chime echoed its way through the house.

A voice on the other side yells “I got it”, one he recognizes in an instant. His fingers grip the parcel and card between white knuckles as the door swings open to reveal Betty Cooper, in all her bedazzled Christmas regalia. He watches the air suck into her lungs and sticks there, sputtering out in slow, syncopated breaths that he’s sure are the syllables of his name.

“Hey Betts,” he smiles. A thousand emotions flicker over Betty’s face, not one long enough to dwell on before her arms wrap around him and her face nestles into the hollow of his neck. 

“Is this real?” She whispers against his skin. “I’m not going to open my eyes and this was all a dream because I don’t know if I can take that again.”

His arms tighten around her. “No, Betty this is very, very real.”

They stand there for a long moment before she pulls away, cheeks rosy from the blustery cold, maybe a little from their proximity. “This is so much more than I was hoping for, Jug.”

“You said this was it. That it was the last time you were reaching out, that you were done putting yourself out there and that if I had ever felt one shred of what you did, it wouldn’t be hard. And you know what, Betts? It wasn’t. Deciding to come find you and give you this was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Because I have never wanted anything like I want you in my life.”

Her hand entwines with his as they stand on the portico, snow falling around them and starting to accumulate. “Merry Christmas, Jughead.” Her lip finds its way between her teeth, half biting back a smile and the other half…she turns to go back in but finds herself seemingly stuck to the spot. Jughead gently tugs their joined hands and pulls her firmly back in his space. Their eyes meet, nervous and anxious as his thumb begins stroking the top of her hand. Betty looks as though she might say something but her lips are on his before he could think on what it could mean. His free hand found its way up, cupping her face and keeping her close as he deepened the kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Betty,” he breathes out when the kiss slowly resolves. He feels her smile and can’t help the champagne bubble feeling that has currently taken hold in his chest.

“Elizabeth! Why is that door still open? Do you have any idea how much it costs to heat a house? Honestly, if you weren’t going off to college in a few months…” Betty grimaces before turning back to the house, still keeping Jughead’s hand firmly within her own.

“Mom! You’ll never believe who made it for Christmas this year!” She mouths sorry to him after dragging him inside and closing the door behind her. She’s assured that he knew exactly what he was in for. It’s taken nearly ten months for him to realize what his pride had put at risk, and there is nothing, and no one, that can change his mind about what he wants, and where he wants to be. And that is near Betty Cooper, for as long as she will have him.

[lynnsfics]

Coffee Stained Confusion Ch 12

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~~~

When you finally emerged from the basement, the tower was in chaos. The whole building was in lockdown and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were in a frenzy. Tony greeted you both at the stairs. 

“Well, glad to see you both well after that little, what would PR call it? ‘Elevator incident.’ I suppose Barnes will need to see a medic, but hotshot we need you upstairs. The rest of the team is meeting to discuss what happened. I know you aren’t sure if you’re joining yet, but they need a briefing on Alicia. Tell them everything you know.” He turned to walk away but paused, “And tell Rogers to dig up any old HYDRA files we have. After what happened here, we’ll need them,” 

Bucky turned to you, “The meeting room is three floors up. I can show you the way there, if you want.”

“I think I’ll be able to find my way, besides you need to wait here for the medic.”

“Alright then,” he smirked, “I’ll see later, phoenix.”

Making your way upstairs you started to regret your decision of refusing Bucky’s escort. You were about to meet the Avengers, by yourself nonetheless, and you looked like you’d been through hell. To be fair, you basically had, but they didn’t need to know that. 

Heart pounding you stepped into the conference room. You saw Sam and instantly felt a little bit better. At least you weren’t completely alone. The team sat at a table, debating something heatedly. The moment you walked in, however, they all stopped and turned to you. 

“Uh, hi.” Just great, your mind decided to skip town at the worst possible moment. “I’m Y/N, Tony told me to come here and brief you guys on Alicia.”

Thor smiled encouragingly, “Yes, her escape has us all baffled.”

“We believe that HYDRA got their hands on a blueprint of the tower before their infiltration was discovered.” Steve chimed in.

“Although Tony is constantly modifying things,” Rhodey countered, “which means we may still have some moles.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Or boys, the most likely option of all. They hacked into our servers and turned off the power, giving some of their agents time to sneak in, break Alicia out, and cut a few elevator cables too.” 

“Now I may not be an expert on Midgardian technology, but I thought Stark’s computers were fully secured?” Thor questioned.

Steve responded, “They should be, but HYDRA has some tech specialists. One of their scientists had his entire consciousness uploaded onto a computer database.”

“You should have seen it,” chuckled Natahsa, “extremely creepy.”

“So we’re just going to assume that since they can make a guy into a robot that they can get past Stark’s firewall?” Rhodey scoffed.

Soon they began arguing again, which seemed to go on for ages. Your mind reeled trying to keep up with the conversation. Finally Bruce Banner cut in, “Well, Y/N is here, maybe she can inform us on what Alicia is most likely to do.”

Sam nodded at you. You could do this. “Well, with me, she played more of the long game. She pretended to be my best friend all throughout college. So, for almost six years now. Uh, we were majoring in law so it was supposed to be eight years instead of the regular four. But HYDRA wasn’t very secretive about the murder of former double agents. They used very obvious poisons, ones that were just discussed in the biology course Alicia and I take. Well, used to take, I guess.”

“I don’t understand.” Wanda said, “Why would they use something so obvious? Isn’t flying under the radar like their whole thing?” “We aren’t sure yet, but I’ve been thinking about it and it may be a way of them taunting S.H.I.E.LD. If I learned one thing, it’s that Alicia loves a spectacle.”

Bucky walked into the room, his ribs bandaged and some fresh stitches on his forehead, but looking much better than before. “Well if she wants a spectacle,” he said, “why don’t we give it to her.”

“I know you probably just got concussed,” Sam said, “but what the hell are you talking about dude?”

“In the infirmary I spoke with an agent who was knocked out by some HYDRA thugs. He said one of them he had seen around for a week or so. But the other two he had never seen before. They probably had a few moles in here to learn how to hack into the power supply and then sneak in some more when the power was out.” “But how would they know that Alicia would be captured?” Natasha questioned.

“They didn’t.” Bucky replied, “That threw a wrench in their plans.” He stepped next to you, “So did Y/N here, which is why they tried to dispose of us both with the elevator stunt. That didn’t work so well though, considering we’re both still here.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Steve asked.

“The agent gave me a location, where they might be taking her. S.H.I.E.L.D has apparently been scoping the place out?”

“How do we know that this is legitimate information?” Tony asked, entering the room.

“Well we don’t, not yet. But we can reconfirm with Fury.” “Sure, I’ll give him a ring. He just loves my calls.” Tony said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Considering you skipped the meeting Tony,” Steve glared, “you can do this one thing. Unless, of course, you want to be searching for her for another few months, and let more good agents get  killed. No? Then I strongly suggest you give Fury a call.” Steve stood up and glanced at you, “Speaking of, Y/N here knows some more about the murders, so you may want to look over her uh, biology notes. They may contain the next poison to be used.” With that, he left the room.

You glanced awkwardly around the room, waiting for someone to speak next. When no one did, you cleared your throat and said, “I have the notes in my bag, if they’d be helpful.” 

“They should be in your room, we can go get them now.” Bucky said reassuringly.

The two of you exited the conference room, and you felt a sigh of relief wash over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe around the Avengers, you did, but you were terrified of saying the wrong thing and making a fool of yourself.

“That went well,” Bucky said, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “No, really, they actually listened to what you had to say. It took them awhile before they truly paid attention to what I told them.”

“Thank you, and thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Well, to be fair, we do need to get those notes, and you looked like you needed a breath of fresh air.” 

You nodded. “I did, to be honest. It’s a lot of pressure. But,” you paused, and glanced down, “that won’t stop me from joining. After all of this, I don’t think that a future in law is for me. Going back to college isn’t a possibility. I think my future is here.” Bucky broke into a grin, “I’m glad. We need you here.” Under his breath, he muttered something, but you couldn’t quite make it out. 

“What was that last part?”

“Oh nothing, just, uh, thinking. Only one more flight of stairs and we’ll be there.” Was that a slight blush on his cheeks or was it just your imagination?

Finally, you made it to a door with a security scanner next to it. Bucky cursed, “My security card was damaged in the fall. Let’s try getting in a different way. FRIDAY, requesting access?” FRIDAY responded, “Access granted. The package for Miss Y/N has been delivered to her room.” “A package?” 

Bucky glanced down, “It’s probably just your books. They had to be collected from the apartment, so they must have arrived late.” The door swung open to reveal a series of rooms, mainly in a monochromatic theme. Little bursts of color appeared throughout in the form of paintings. 

Walking up to one, you saw the artist’s signature and gasped. “Bucky you painted this? It’s beautiful.” 

He smiled shyly, “After leaving HYDRA, and having done nothing but cause pain, I wanted to be able to do something good. So I took up painting. Growing up, Steve was always the artist, I never really thought I’d be good at it,” he chuckled, “apparently I have a bit of a knack for it. Your room is down that hall there if you want to grab your notes. I’m going to get changed into some fresh clothes, but let me know if you need anything. 

You walked down the hall and saw an open door, sitting on the bed in the room were your notebooks in a neat pile. Next to them was a package wrapped neatly in plain wrapping paper. Written on it was a note, “Phoenix, just in case you decide to join the team. ~From, Bucky”. Gently unwrapping the package, you found a suit inside, with orange-red flames in spirals across it. It was beautiful. A knock came at the door. “I hope you like it. I didn’t want to assume anything about you joining, but after what you said about the tattoo I thought, well anyways. I talked with Tony before stopping by the meeting and asked him to have it made for you. If you don’t like it you could get another one-” You cut him off, “No, it’s absolutely perfect, I love it! Thank you.” You walked over to him and wrapped him in a hug. He froze for a moment before returning the gesture. 

“I can take the notes down to them, if you want. There’s a TV in the main living room, and the coffee machine is on the counter in the kitchen. You should be able to relax a little.”

You smiled, “That sounds great, thank you.” As soon as he left with the notes you sat down on the couch and turned on the television. Brooklyn-99 was already on and you smiled, the familiar show bringing you some comfort. A few episodes in, it started getting dark out and you began to doze off.

It wasn’t long after that your dreams turned dark and you woke up screaming.

~~~

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[andersunmenschlich]

Episode 2: Do Not Open

Oh, we're just charging right into the statement this time. Cool. I suppose we did get the setup, uh, set up in the first episode, so nothing more's needed. Onward to a whole ton of horror stories!

I wonder how they'll connect or overlap? ...I might be assuming too much, but being as they're all set in the same universe....

All right, so this one's about a man named Joshua Gillespie.

It's from 1998? Huh. Going back in time a bit, aren't we? I was only nine in 1998, and I was twenty-two when the last statement was given, so.... These archives really are out of order, aren't they. I wonder how he's picking them?

Okay, so Joshua's in his early twenties and he's taking a weeks-long vacation with some friends. In... Holland? I didn't know that was a vacation destination.

But then what do I know about vacation destinations? I can't go above ground while the sun's up, so I never really go anywhere, do I—and frankly I don't really want to. I like being underground, in the dark, surrounded by books, and I don't like being rushed around here and there and everywhere anyway, which seems to be par for the course for away-from-home-vacations so far as I can tell.

This Joshua certainly seems to have done a lot of rushing around here and there. "There were very few points where I'd say that I was entirely sober and even fewer where I acted like it"? Sounds exhausting.

Anyway, he wakes up earlier than his friends one day and leaves them to sleep off their hangovers while he goes to look at buildings.

Apparently Joshua Gillespie is an aspiring architect.

He's wandering around Amsterdam, and he can't speak Dutch, and he gets so lost that he only makes it back to familiar ground after it's started to get dark, at which point he decides to pop into a cafe for some reason. Oh, and apparently he's on drugs.

I predict that Mr. Sims will discount everything Joshua says just on the basis of that.

Well, I would.

Oho, and a strange man turns up at Joshua's cafe table!

From the description, he sounds Unremarkable. With a capital U, because he's just so Ordinary that there's nothing about him to notice, really. And apparently Joshua didn't notice him walking in or sitting down or anything like that, so he's clearly very Unnoticeable.

Mr. Unremarkable calls himself "John." That's interesting. What do you want to bet his last name's "Smith"?

Ooh, and he wants Joshua to look after a package for him. And he pays him a ton of money! Up front! That doesn't seem particularly wise, Mr. Probably-Smith!

...And then he just walks off?

I'm lost. Where's the package, then?

Looks like he just vanishes. Joshua's got all this money for looking after a package, but he hasn't actually got any package to look after. That's very odd. Can't say it's the way I'd do it, if I wanted someone to look after a package for me. I'd say Mr. Unremarkable has something else in mind, but the statement was introduced as being about "an apparently empty wooden casket," so....

O..kay. So Joshua just hangs onto the money for a whole year without spending any of it.

He must be a weirdly rich student.

But then again, what do I know about money? I make just enough for rent every month (most months, anyway), and get my food from people who, for some reason or other, seem to want me to not die. Which is nice of them, I suppose, but a bit baffling.

Anyway, Joshua Gillespie finally spends John Probably-Smith's money on a nice apartment, and a week later the package finally turns up.

The delivery men don't sound normal. "Weren't wearing any uniforms"? "Well over six feet tall"? At least they're very task-oriented: confirm you're delivering to the right address, make the delivery, leave. No wasted time chatting or answering questions or making friends or anything, which strikes me as exactly what one wants in mail delivery—competence and efficiency! In and out, no hanging about. I think I like these two just fine, whatever they are.

So it's a huge cardboard box, and when Joshua cuts it open there's a coffin inside. And the coffin is sealed with a chain and a padlock.

Okay, if you're not thinking "vampire" at this point I don't know what stories you've been reading, watching, or listening to, because clearly you've missed all the ones I grew up with. This is just so amazingly obviously vampiric that—well, I don't know. Is this that kind of show? I suppose it might be....

Ah, and carved into the wood of the coffin are the words "Do Not Open."

There's the title-drop, then.

Joshua doesn't know what's up, but fortunately there's a note from "J" who is almost definitely John Probably-Smith from Amsterdam, which jogs his memory.

He's weirdly affected by the coffin. He calls in sick to work, for Pete's sake. That seems like a really strange thing to do! Suppose someone paid me a great deal of money to look after a package, and then one day a package showed up—well, all right, then. All's well. Right?

Oh, and the coffin is warm. That's....

Gotta say, I'd probably spend a lot of time around it. I like warmth. My average body temperature is a couple degrees below what's normal for humans, so I like hanging out around warm things.

That probably wouldn't be healthy in this case, though, would it?

Joshua is obviously nothing like me. He's so freaked out by the oddly warm coffin in his new apartment that he's got to go make himself some tea to calm down, and then when he's sufficiently calm he goes and drags the coffin into his living room and pushes it up against a wall. Oh, and he pulls the key out of the padlock (yup, the padlock came with a key, very tidy) and just leaves it on a table by the front door, which strikes me as untidy.

The chains around the coffin aren't warm. That's interesting.

And it takes him a full week to get comfortable enough with the idea of a coffin in his living room for him to start using the living room again!

Joshua Gillespie is a wuss.

...Then he puts a glass of orange juice on top of it. Why would you do that? It's warm, clearly it's going to make your juice all warm and gross, don't use a spookily heated coffin as a cupholder for a cold drink, that's idiotic.

Also, it's wood. Use a coaster, you oaf.

Apparently the coffin also objects to his lack of consideration—or maybe it's just interested in the orange juice, who knows.

Anyway, it seems like something inside is scratching on the underside of the lid. He picks up his cup and the scratching stops. He puts it back down and it starts again (after four seconds). He picks his cup up again and the scratching goes on for another five minutes, which is... a lot longer than the immediate stopping it did last time, you know?

So he decides to leave it alone, which is probably the sanest choice to make under the circumstances. Frankly I think I'd probably do the same thing, although the temptation to run more experiments would be really strong. Opening it, though? Nooo, I don't think that idea would even occur to me. I mean, it's not my package to open, is it?

Oh hey, it's the kind of coffin that moans when it rains. That's interesting.

Also interesting is that Joshua Gillespie is apparently the kind of person who would usually have people over.

I mean that he's the type of person who'll actually let other people into the place where he lives. On purpose! He doesn't say so straight out, but it's heavily implied. Can you imagine? What sort of mentally unbalanced nutjob would do a thing like that?

All right: I admit I've done it a few times myself, but that was different. I only invited one person at a time, it was a one-time-only thing for each of them, and I was doing it in order to, you know, observe humanity close up under controlled circumstances—not to make friends or encourage visits or anything like that! It isn't as though I actually wanted them in my home the way Joshua apparently does, that was just the best way of getting the information I wanted.

Joshua Gillespie kind of freaks me out.

Returning to the story: it's raining so hard that it's turned dark outside (which is some of the best weather, I think), and Joshua's reading The Lost World.

I haven't read that book in a while. Despite all the books I own, I don't actually have a copy of that one (though I do own Jurassic Park), and the last time I read my dad's copy the last few pages were missing. Anyway, it's a good book and I approve Joshua Gillespie's taste in this case, weird social freak though he may be. Also his eyes are clearly terrible, because he has to get up and turn on a light in order to keep reading, which I've never had to do in that kind of weather.

The way he describes the moaning sounds really pleasant, actually. "Almost like singing, if it was muffled by twenty feet of hard-packed soil." Not only could I live with that, I think I'd be tempted to sit up against the cozy warm coffin and read with that and the rain for background.

Sounds nice.

This guy, of course, doesn't know how to appreciate what he's got. He doesn't just leave the room, no, he puts on music so he can't hear the coffin 'singing'!

Then he starts getting bad dreams. He doesn't remember them, but it sounds like he's dreaming about suffocating? When you wake up clutching at your throat and struggling to breathe... yeah, he's being choked or something. My first thought (because of the coffin) is "buried alive." I've never dreamed about that, but it doesn't strike me as fun.

Also he's sleepwalking, which is interesting.

So this coffin (or whatever's inside it) is getting inside his head? That seems really dangerous! What good are the chains doing? Can't we get some magical seals or something?

Looks like the coffin wants him to open it, because he keeps waking up with the key in his hand. I guess he can't just throw it out or anything—I mean, it's not his, so throwing it away would be... I dunno... wrong? And also it's untidy. The key clearly goes with the padlock, you can't just chuck the key, then they'd be unmatched and that's just not right.

What would I do in that situation? Hmm.

I suppose I might tape the key to my back. Getting it off would definitely wake me up, I think. And I'd probably also tape a plastic bag around the padlock.

Oh, he freezes it in a bowl of water! That's clever. I don't think I'd've thought of that.

A year and a half, he's got to hold on to this thing. That's a really long time. No wonder he got paid so much! I mean, I could do it no problem, but you've got to admit keeping something that big in your living space for that long is a bit of a bother. Especially when it keeps messing with your sleep.

And they come to pick it up on a rainy day... when it isn't moaning. That's odd. I wonder why it isn't moan-singing?

Oh, don't tell me they wanted someone who didn't know what it was to starve it.

That's it, isn't it? The vampire or whatever is dead now, so they've come for the body and they'll haul it away and... oh, and apparently they're surprised that Joshua is still alive. So maybe they were expecting him to feed it (unintentionally) and will be upset that it's dead?

It's all three of them: John Probably-Smith and the two efficient deliverymen. They don't seem too bothered, though....

Joshua breaks the bowl of ice, John gets the key, and Joshua doesn't follow them into the living room. Apparently he's not curious, which—well, frankly, I would be! Which might get me killed, since it looks like there was screaming and then John Probably-Smith didn't come back out of the living room.

So I guess whatever it was, it was hungry.

The deliverymen carry the coffin out, their van says "Breekon and Hope" on the side, and Joshua considers himself well out of the whole thing.

Sure enough, Mr. Sims pounced on the drug use. Haha, I thought he would! Also on the lack of witnesses, but honestly I think that's just normal, don't you? Who would normally have witnesses in their home? You don't, in general, have other people in your home! Though I suppose he could've talked to somebody online. There was internet when I was nine, you know. I used it.

Looks like Mr. Sims tells his assistants which written statements he's transferring to audio as a regular thing, because another one of them (Tim this time) did some research.

Breekon and Hope were a real courier service until 2009 (I was 20!) and then the business was liquidated—and apparently they didn't bother to keep records of their deliveries (or at least they didn't bother to keep them safe), which is very untidy and I disapprove.

So are those two deliverymen "Breekon" and "Hope," or are they just employed by "Breekon and Hope"?

Not that I s'pose it matters, really....

Wait, what? The apartment building Joshua lived in was totally vacant except for him? For the whole two years he lived there? That seems really improbable and I'm incredibly envious!

So in this story a man gets a vampire coffin, starves the vampire while it reaches into his mind and tries to draw him to it, then the bland fellow who gave it to him turns up to take it back and gets eaten by the vampire, whereupon the coffin-keepers just walk off with the thing and all is well.

...I guess?

I have so many questions.

This is really good! I'm really liking this podcast so far. It's definitely weird. Two episodes in and I've already noticed that the monsters aren't particularly good at luring people.

That's part of what makes me doubt that the 'vampire' is actually a vampire—vampires are good at luring people! Joshua would get alluring, sexy dreams tempting him to open the coffin, not nightmares, and the thing in the alley would not look like a corpse on a stick!

...At least, not at first. Not if these things were good at their jobs.

[memesiders]

Part 8

Death x OC Office AU

“What’s that on your neck?” Neema asked, jumping down the last step of the stairs leading to the school. I frowned and ran my fingers over my neck, uncertain of what she meant. She shook her head and pointed to the left side of my neck. “It looks all red.” I slapped my palm over the mark, blushing brightly. The memory of Death biting my neck played on a loop in my head and I silently cursed; was it noticeable to anyone else? Had everyone seen it and just didn’t say anything? The thought was mortifying.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Just a rash.” She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head, giving me an unbelieving look. “It’s nothing, I swear.”

“Mhm… Then why are you covering it like that?” I bit the inside of my cheek and lowered my hand slowly, hoping it wasn’t anything she could figure out. She got on her tiptoes and tried to get a closer look but I pushed her away, turning so she couldn’t see it.

“Look, I have ten minutes before I’m supposed to be back at work, so let’s go.” Neema rolled her eyes and we started away from the school, heading home.

“You know you don’t have to pick me up,” she muttered. “I can get home just fine on my own.”

“I know that,” I replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “But I wanted to walk you home today.” That wasn’t a complete lie, right? I did want to walk her home, the main reason being that I was afraid of seeing Death or Amber right now. I was worried if he saw me, he’d ignore me or tell me that what I did was unacceptable. Maybe he’d even fire me, I didn’t know. I was terrified to see Amber because… well, she always managed to keep Strife away and if she could do that, I didn’t even want to think of what she’d do to me.

It wasn’t that I thought she was into him, but she seemed to have a lot of respect and care for him, like a friend. If she thought I was using him, there was no doubt in my mind that she’d snap me in two.

We crossed the street and Neema moved out from my grasp and wrapped her arms around one of mine, resting her head against my shoulder. “I know you’re bullshitting, but that’s alright. I’m just happy you’re not upset with me.” I frowned and looked down at her, petting her hair.

“Why would I be mad at you, Neem? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know, but you were upset the other night and I wasn’t sure if you were angry with me or not.” I scoffed and shook my head.

“Never. I was just being a bitch because of my hangover and what happened at the party. I’m sorry I made you feel like I was upset with you.” She squeezed my arm and I smiled, kissing the top of her head. We reached the apartments a few minutes later and I gave her a big hug. “I love you and you haven’t upset me at all, promise.” She squeezed back tightly, burying her face in my neck.

“Okay, I was just nervous. I love you too, ZiZi.” We split apart and I waited until she was inside before I started back for the office, rubbing my hands against my sides. It was starting to get too cold out. Halloween was just around the corner and winter was coming with it. Pretty soon I’d start working later, too. Just another week or so and Nora would be heading out as soon as I came in.

It was nerve-wracking to think about working all by myself, without her help or guidance. I was getting a better grip on how everything operated, and I was probably fine without her, but there was still a lot of fear of messing up or getting booted before my three month trial run was up. My stomach churned at the thought of reaching the three months and not retaining my position. I’d screwed up so much these past few weeks that it was hard for me to imagine keeping my job, but damn if I didn’t want it badly. I liked where I worked, I didn’t want to lose that. I had to strap on my big girl shoes and stop acting like I was ungrateful for my opportunity.

I hurried inside once I reached the large black skyscraper, rubbing my hands together as I was hit with a gust of warmth. Thank God. I hurried back to my station and plopped down into my seat, sighing with relief. Nora smiled at me and turned in her chair, legs crossed.

“Cold outside?” she joked. I looked at her and nodded hard.

“Very. I’m gonna have to invest in a nice coat for this winter,” I answered, teeth still chattering. I rubbed my arms and leaned back in my seat, letting out a cold breath. “Anything happen while I was gone?” She shrugged and grabbed a few packages from under the desk.

“These came in for Shelly and Jenna. They need to be delivered.” I sighed and nodded, taking them from her hand.

“I guess I’ll be delivering these, then.”

She nodded. “Oh, and Amber stopped by for a minute, looking for you.” My heart went into my throat. I gripped the packages tightly, my fingers turning a pale brown, almost white.

“Really?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “What did she want?”

“I don’t know. She just asked where you were and told me to give you that.” She gestured to an envelope on the table that I hadn’t noticed before. I swallowed, finding it hard to do even that, and picked it up. The envelope shook in my hands and I carefully opened it, pulling out the small note inside.

Please come back after your shift

It wasn’t Amber’s handwriting; I had seen her signature before. Is it Death’s? The warmth I’d started to earn back instantly drained again. This is it; I’m done. He’s gonna fire me for kissing him, right? No workplace romances or some shit like that. I forced the terrible thoughts down as Nora gazed at me with worry.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” she asked gently, lightly touching my arm. I put on the best smile I could muster up and nodded, attempting to act nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, shoving the note back into the envelope. I stuck it into my purse and zipped the bag up, kicking it back under the desk. “I just have to go see Death again after my shift ends.” Her lips formed a frown.

“Is something wrong?” I shook my head quickly.

“No, nothing’s wrong, promise.” I picked up the two packages and stood. “I’ll be right back, gonna go deliver these real quick.” She nodded hesitantly, obviously skeptical of my answer. I wasn’t the worst liar in the world, but I certainly wasn’t the best. I gave her a thumbs up and headed to the fourth floor, clutching the parcels tightly to my chest. I closed my eyes and took deep, calming breaths.

Stop thinking of the worst-case scenarios, damn it. Maybe he just wants to clear the air and doesn’t want you to think that there’s something else between you? Or you left something in his office and he wants to give it back? I snorted at that scenario. If I’d left something in there, he’d have had Amber bring it down, or even delivered it himself. Not everything has to be terrible. I physically shook myself off when the elevator dinged, the doors opening up.

The fourth floor was the best, in my opinion. Everyone was talking and joking while also doing their work. There were pictures of families and funny memes on everybody’s desks, accompanied by trinkets and toys like bobble-heads and Funko Pops. I smiled as I stepped out and headed down the rows of desks, saying hi to everyone that greeted me. It was amazing that anyone got any work done with as much chatter and laughter there was. Nora told me that the fourth floor was one of the best when it came to getting stuff done. It was probably because of how kind and pleasant the atmosphere was.

I couldn’t imagine what Death’s reaction to the commotion would be if he had to work down here. I chuckled to myself, picturing an ever-increasing look of annoyance and anger on his face. Yep, he’d absolutely hate it. This was probably more Strife’s style. I reached the end of the aisles and greeted Shelly as I reached her cubicle. She looked at me and smiled, giving me a small wave.

“Hey, Aziza,” she greeted back. “I’m guessing you have something for me?”

“That I do.” I handed her one of the packages and her smile widened, her bright hazel eyes shimmering with excitement. She tucked some neon yellow strands behind her ear and tore open the packaging, squealing happily when she pulled out a small box. I cocked my head a little and smiled, arching a brow. “Do I even want to know?”

“I’ve been waiting for this from the South Office for almost two weeks now.” South Office was Strife’s building. I stared at her, waiting for her to continue explaining, but she never did. Her smile fell a little. “Sorry, it’s top secret so I can’t really tell you what it is.” I nodded and shrugged.

“Well, it made you happy so it must be something good.” Her smile grew again and she nodded furiously, her bangs bouncing against her forehead. I said goodbye to her and went back to the elevator, heading up a few floors. I wonder what top secret stuff she had delivered? Was there a mole in the company or something? Was someone embezzling? Oh, oh, maybe she has to dig up dirt about a competitive company and had to enlist Strife’s office for help and-

The elevator dinged again and I jumped, yanked out of my thoughts. There you go again with your extravagant thoughts. I smiled to myself and shook my head, stepping out into the ninth floor. Up here, there was no personality to be had. Everyone was quiet and typing away on their computers, a few people talking on their company phones. There were barely any pictures and absolutely no bobbles to be seen. It was the type of floor I was sure Death wanted them all to be.

I wonder if he assigns people to the floor he thinks they’d fit in best? It didn’t entirely make sense, seeing as the fourth floor was IT and the ninth floor handled accounting and finance, but it was strange how everyone on each floor had the same energy; no one felt out of place. I made my way to Jenna’s cubicle and knocked on the desk. She whipped around and looked at me, unamused.

“What?” she asked, rubbing the side of her head. “I’m pretty busy here.” I held up the package and shook it lightly. She took it from me and sighed, tossing it on the desk. I leaned against the cubicle wall and arched a brow, looking between her and the package. She took off her thin rimmed glasses and cleaned the lenses, looking at me again when she put them back on. A vein in her forehead was starting to jut out.

“What? Something else?” I shrugged.

“Just curious; what were you expecting?” I asked. She scoffed at me almost dramatically, and rolled her eyes.

“How the hell did HR let you slip past them? There’s no way your application should’ve been on the boss’s desk at all. Incompetent, nosy-”

“Sticks and stones, Jenna, sticks and stones.” She clenched her jaw, blue eyes narrowing at me. She pointed towards the elevator and jerked her head in its direction.

“Scram, before I report you.”

“For what?” I scoffed, pushing away from the wall.

“For anything I want, just go!” I had the urge to stick my middle finger up at her, but I suppressed it and gave her a sickeningly sweet smile instead.

“Fine, I’ll leave,” I said politely. “Call me when you manage to get that broom handle out of your ass.” I flipped around as she gasped and went back to the elevator, resisting the urge to run back and break her jaw. We hadn’t gotten along the first time Nora had introduced us, and I had a feeling we were never going to. I smashed the lobby button and shook my head, gripping the railing tightly. The last thing I’d wanted was to deal with some uppity bitch. She’d probably love to see me fired.

The doors opened up a few moments later and I shoved away from the railing, storming out. I went back to my seat and fell into it, rubbing my temples. They were starting to throb lightly. Probably because of all the stress, I thought.

“I take it Jenna was in a mood,” Nora asked. I looked up at her, frowning.

“I wanted to punch her in her throat.”

Nora laughed.

[mrsbenhardyx]

Love, I’m home - Chapter 3

Read chapter two

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader

Summary:  You have a great job at the BBC and you love writing scripts and  shooting episodes. But one day, your boss asks you to go to France for 2  months to shoot a special reportage. You are excited, but also scared  to leave Roger for so long…

Warnings: angst, alcohol, swearing

Word count: 1500 (not as long as the others, but don’t worry, the next chapter will be longer again)

A/N: Finally, here is chapter three. It is much later than I had promised / hoped, because I had my final exams of the year last week, but luckily they are over :) I would appreciate it if you reacted on, reblogged or liked my story. That way, I know if you like it or if I should change something about the story. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: As always, I do not speak English every day, so both grammar and vocabulary won’t be 100% correct, but I hope every thing is clear and understandable.

THREE WEEKS LATER - twenty minutes earlier

You had been reading the program for your fourth week in France, when you heard a soft knock on the door from your hotel room. You looked on your watch and stood op, while you were thinking why someone would knock on your door so late in the evening. Rachel had gone to a local bar with a few new friends she met in Paris and she said they would not be back until midnight. So it couldn’t be here. You first doubted whether you should first look through the peephole or not, but you decided not to be silly and just open the door.

A little man stood in front of you with a little package in his hand.

           “Bonjour, Mme Y/L/N. I have a package for you. It was delivered at our reception yesterday.” The little man said, who turned out to be the receptionist.

           “Oh, merci beaucoup.” You stuttered out. The man handed you the paper box and turned around with a big smile, but you stopped him quickly. “Excuse me, do you happen to know who sent the package?”

           “Non, je ne sais pas. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” The little man apologized. “Have a good night, Mme Y/N/L.” And he walked away in the direction of the elevator. You closed your door and held the little box in your hands. You looked at all sides of the box, but there was no name or address on it, so you put the box on the bed and went to the little bathroom to put on your pajamas with curiosity. You doubted again whether you should open the box right now or go to bed first to open the package the next morning.

But fuck it, you were far to curious to leave that box closed all night. You decided to take a glass of wine to drink while you would open the package.

------------

And now you were sitting on your bed with a glass of wine in your right hand and Roger’s first letter in your left, wet tears rolling down your face. When you had opened the package, you knew immediately it was a present from Roger. You had smelled the scent of his shampoo and the tears had started rolling down your face. The sweet drummer had added a bottle of your favorite shampoo to his letter. His letter was even sweeter; he missed you harder than you thought he would and it broke your heart every time you read the letter.

Just when you decided to take another glass of wine from the little fridge next to your bed, you heard the key turn in the lock.

           “Ma chérie, I’m home. You’re still awake?” Rachel yelled through the room you two shared.

           “I’m sitting on my bed, Rachel, I was just trying to get some sleep.” You shouted back.

           “Great, I had a fantastic night in the city and -“, she was abolutely wasted but when she saw your face, red and all swollen, she seemed to think clearly again. She could handle alcohol way better than you could. “Y/N, what’s wrong. What happended?”

You first wanted to deny that there was something wrong, but you knew you would feel better, if you talked about it. “Uh, I’ve got a letter from Roger. And he sent me a bottle of shampoo.”

           “Y/N, that’s great. What did he say?” She was still shouting but now out of excitement and not because she was drunk. “Is everything alright at home?”

           “Yeah, everything is great there. He says he misses me and-“, you were not able to end your sentence because a lump formed in your throath and tears welled up in your eyes. Rachel looked at you with a sad smile. “I just miss him so much! I want to go home, Rachel.”

           “Oh honey, I understand. You’re still scared about last time, aren’t you? You think he will do something like that again?” She asked understanding, trying to comfort you.

           “I don’t know, but I think so …” You had to admit it and it was time to  be honest to yourself. Of course you were still scared because of what had happended a year and a half ago.

Rachel pulled you into a hug and whispered in your ear. “Let’s go to bed. It looks like you could use some rest.”

------------

ONE YEAR AND A HALF AGO

You were extremely excited to celebrate Roger’s birthday together, but three hours had passed and Roger still hadn’t arrived at the surprise party you had been organising the past weeks. There were people all over the place. In your kitchen, on your couch ... There was even a couple sitting on the bed you and Roger shared. You were busy serving drinks and offering snacks, when Brian tapped on your shoulder.

           “Y/N, I think I heard the elevator in the hallway.” He said. You saw he was nervous to surprise his best friend.

           “Are you serious?” You too were flushed by a feeling of enthousiasm. “Uh, okay, tell everyone to hide before he comes in.”

           “Your wish is my command.” He laughed and turned to the living room and the guest to give them the assignement you ordered. “Okay everyone, it’s time to hide because Roger is on his way here. Hurry!” He tried not to shout to make sure Roger couldn’t here anything in the hallway.

You quickly placed the empty bottles you held in your hand on the counter and searched a spot that was still open, but every corner of your apartment was filled with your friends and family. Luckily you found a spot behind your bookcase that was still empty and you quickly ran through your apartment.

When you sighed out of relief you heard the door open. Everyone you had invited jumped out of their hiding spot.

           “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHD-“

You couldn’t believe what you saw. The hands that used to hold your body, the lips that used to kiss your lips, were now holding and kissing another woman. This could not be true. Please no, say it’s dream! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!

But it wasn’t a dream, it was real life. The gasping for breath from everybody around you sucked you back into reality. You weren’t sure if you could stand on your feet, but when you wanted to fall to the ground, Brian, John and Freddie grabbed you and helped you to stand up.

           “Y/N, what’s this all about?” Roger asked, stepping closer to you.

           “Are you serious? What’s this all about? … What’s that all about?” You cried, while making a weird gesture with both of your hand towards Roger and the still unknown woman.

           “Y/N, it’s not what it seems. I did not mean to hurt you!” He tried to defend himself and tried to take your hands in his, but you pushed them away.

You tried not to lose your temper, but it was too late. You were already shouting to his face in front of everybody. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? It’s not what it seems? It seemed like you were about to fuck another woman!”

Freddie walked over to the two of you and tried to calm you down. “Y/N, please  calm down, darling. Breath in, breath out.”

But you did not listen  to Freddie and shouted on. “You left me alone with all these people on the surprise party I organised for you and you did not even show up, because you were too busy cheating on me with this woman.” You saw that people were taking their coats and were leaving the party that hadn’t turned out as you hoped is would have. “And you did not mean to hurt me?!” You were on the edge of crying and colapsing onto the floor.

Now it was John’s turn to calm you down. “Y/N, please. You have to calm down. This isn’t good for you. Maybe you should go sit on the couch.”  

You did not have the strenght to fight against John’s grip and you let him lead you to the couch. You let the tears fall down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. You wanted Roger to see how he had hurt you.

           “Please, Y/N, let me explain this to you.” He left the other woman at the door and wanted to come over to you, but was stopped by Brian’s words. “I don’t think she wants to see you now, I think you should leave with your new ‘love’.”

           “She isn’t my ‘love’ and I’m not leaving until I-“ Roger hissed, but he was interrupted by the boys. “Now, Roger, you need to leave right now.” Roger wanted to add one other thing, but the boys did not give him a chance. “NOW!”

Roger turned around and left your apartment and his new ‘love’, not even bothering if he should take her with him.

The door slammed shut.

[spideybitey18]

Not What I Had In Mind - Part 3

Hey guys! After a few months, i am finally back with part 3!!! This is quite angsty and not a happy ending, but please let me know what you think! I LOVE YOU <3 <3

Harrison x reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Heartbreak, Not a Happy ENding, NOT EDITED

PART 1  PART 2

~~

Not What I Had In Mind - Part 3

You slowly carried yourself up to the apartment you shared with Harrison, your legs weak and frail as you held the railing for support. You were drunk and off your head, all of your emotions having been released from the bottle due the amount of alcohol you have a consumed in the last hour. You were now left feeling numb, and void of any emotions. Tom was following behind you, a little less drunk but not in his right mind.

You were both tired after the events of today, it was supposed to be perfect, a picture perfect dream but it turned out to be what was your worst nightmare. You finally reached the end of the staircase, where your small apartment was at the top of the building. It was nothing special, just a two bedroom apartment that was a little rundown, but had everything you and Harrison wanted to start your journey together as a married couple. You unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal the darkened living room, where all of your wedding presents have been delivered, and scattered all over the room. A lump was formed in the back of your throat at the reminder that it will now only be you to send everyone not ‘thank you’ cards, but ‘I’m sorry that you had to spend and waste your money, but now I wont be needing this’ card. 

As if all the anger came rushing back, you strided towards the presents picking up random ones and throwing them around in frustration. How dare he, If he wanted to leave this way, the least he could do is fix up his own mess instead of leaving it with you.

Tom stood by the door, his blurry eyes watching your every move before he stumbled towards you. He grabbed a hold of your hands which was holding a very expensive vase. It had a beautiful pattern that would complement a nice bunch of sunflowers, you thought. Your eyes widened as he shook his head, his hands softly grabbing it out of your shaky grasp. You sighed, your eyes watering once again. Tom smirked down towards you, his hand gripping the vase tightly before he threw it against the wall, the glass breaking into millions of pieces like your heart. You gasped, your hand moving to cover your mouth. Without realising, a small giggle left your lips before you started completely laughing, your head thrown back. Tom soon joined in, both of your laughter joining together and bouncing of the walls of your empty apartment. You both kept laughing almost like you were insane, masking the true feelings that you held behind the happy façade.

A light knock from the door, interrupted the laughter. Tom and you both shared a look before walking towards the front door, curious as to who would come here at 2am in the morning. You weakly twisted the knob open, before opening the heavy door to reveal the last person you would think would show up after everything that had happened.

“Harrison?” You mumbled, your eyes widening at your fiancé.

He gulped, his eyes puffy and red. You took a good look at him, noticing that his expression held exhaustion, and his hair was dishevelled and out of place. He still wore his wedding tux, the tie undone from the constant pulling at it. You remembered how Harrison used to complain about how tight the tie would be, before pouting your way, asking you to fix it. It was annoying, but you loved doing it.

 Your heart pounded against your rib cage as he looked dashing and handsome, like always. He looked just like your Harrison, the love of your life. Minutes passed by as you both continued to stare at each other, basking in each other’s presence.

“I-I’ve come to pick up some clothes I’ve forgotten”

You slowly nodded in understanding, your eyes moving to look at the floor nervously. You still made no effort to move out the way, too stunned to even believe that Harrison was here, but not in the way you were hoping. Secretly, you wished he came back to apologise and beg for forgiveness, and you would’ve in a heartbeat, your love for him overpowering any other emotion.

“Y/N?”

You flinched at the sound of his voice, before slowly retracting back into the room, your dirty torn up wedding gown following behind you. Harrison’s eyes widened at the sight of your tattered dress, even though it was ruined beyond repair, you still looked beautiful, like a broken beautiful queen. He slowly stepped in to his apartment, noticing glass shards all over the carpet, a few opened presents thrown across the room and some still kept in their packages sitting by the couch, untouched. Tom cleared his throat, his brows furrowed disappointedly at his best friend. Harrison gulped, his eyes refusing to meet his best friends face.

Harrison quickly disappeared into your shared room to gather the rest of his belongings without another word or explanation. Your knees buckled beneath you before collapsing onto the carpet, your knees red with carpet burn. Your dress surrounded you in puffs, the waist feeling tight as you struggled to breathe, your throat closing up as tears threatened to spill.

He’s actually leaving me, you thought.

Tom watched as you struggled to get back up before joining Harrison in your room.

“Why do you have to leave?” you mumbled, your voice hoarse.

Harrison jumped, his back facing you as he continued to pack his clothes in his suitcase.

“W-what did I do wrong? Please tell me so I can fix it baby please”

Harrison still kept quiet, a sigh falling from his lips as he moved towards the bathroom to grab his toiletries. He wanted to make this quick, so he could leave as soon as possible. He was hoping that when he turned up here, you and Tom wouldn’t be here yet.

He came back into the bedroom, his hands full with his stuff before placing it into the suitcase. Out of frustration you came up behind him, your voice coming out with desperate with pleads.

“Harrison please I beg you, please don’t leave me.. I don’t know what I will do without you”

He slowly zipped up the suitcase, his eyes downcast.

“Please..”

He picked up the suitcase, before brushing past you without a word.

“Wait.. where are you going, please stay so we can talk about this..” You hiccuped.

You followed him out, your hand grasping his bicep to make him stop, but he was too strong. You didn’t notice, but he had tears in his eyes as well, ignoring you was the worst thing he could ever do, and it was hard.  

As the front door came into both of your view, Harrison sped up to escape. You became more desperate, stumbling over your dress as you cried, begging him not to go. Tom watched the scene unfold with a heavy heart, his gaze locking with Harrison’s. Harrison’s eyes were begging Tom to help, his crystal blue eyes more prominent with the tears. Tom nodded in understanding, knowing that this must be hard on his best friend too, even if he didn’t know the real reason. Tom met up with your pace, just as Harrison spun the door knob, ripping the door wide open to reveal the staircase.

You throat was raw from sobbing uncontrollably, your hands reaching for Harrisons suitcase in his hand as if that would stop him from leaving. Tom wrapped his hands around your waist, his strong arms pulling you back and away from fiance. You yelled in protest, your tears drowning your cheeks. You kicked and screamed, your arms grasping the air towards Harrison as Tom kissed and whispered comforting words into your ear to help calm you down. Nothing helped, your eyes watching as Harrison spun around to give you one final look, his own heart clenching at the sight of you in such pain.

“H-HAZ please don’t leave me” You sobbed, your tears mixing in with your mascara.

A tear fell from Harrison’s eyes as he watched your heart break even more.

‘I love you so much’, he mouthed watching as your face faltered and your cries subsided. He knew you got the message, his eyes watering further as your face scrunched up in further pain.

He turned around slowly, taking large breaths preparing for what was about to come. You watched him descend down the staircase, your body shooting forward in an effort to follow him, but your body was caged in Tom’s comforting arms, his grip tight and secure.

“Tom! Let me go! I-I need to follow him, please! I-I love him, I need him please let me go!”

You continued to sob, every cry begging Harrison to come back, but he never did.

Minutes passed and Harrison still hasn’t come back. Your body fell against Tom’s in exhaustion, your throat throbbing with pain. Tom whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his lips moving to press a kiss against your forehead. 

“I’m here darlin’, I’m here and im not going anywhere” He whispered.

You nodded limply, an occasional hiccup leaving your body. Your hand grasped a hold of Tom’s shirt, as you placed your head against his chest, listening to the beats of his heart, the sound oddly comforting you.

A stray tear fell from your eye, descending its way down your cheek before finding its destination on top of Tom’s hand that was holding yours. 

His hand flinched. 

“I’m not going anywhere” he repeated.

 ~~

HOLY SHITE! i wonder what the reason is, as to why Harrison has left!? Tell me what you guys think, and what maybe the reason he is leaving? Hope you have enjoyed part 3 :))

TAG LIST:  @allforholland @typicaltrashbagg @sweethosterfield @dottirose @madisonpillstrom

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!! <3

[cravingmarvel]

Apartment - Chapter Eleven (End)

Sebastian Stan AU

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None I think?

Word Count: 3185

Summary: You just moved from Germany to New York, working as an editor at a newspaper. So what happens when you find out your favourite actor lives in the apartment across from yours? And how will people react when you share your story on your Blog dedicated to him? What will you make of this situation?

A/N: This is the last Chapter of this series! There’s going to be an epilouge and I’m probably going to be writing some drabbles! I’m going to upload a little ‘Thank you’ post in the next few days so keep an eye on that! 

Enjoy!

Tags: (Please be gentle with the criticism I’m still not confident with my writing. Also, you are not obligated to read this, if you don’t want to)

@sgtjbuccky @whyisbuckyso @jurassicbarnes @softlybarnes @spideywhiteys @buckybarneshairpullingkink @buckystan-plums @v-2bucky @buckisthatyou

Masterlist // Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // 

I settled into my new life pretty nicely, the two months since I moved here went by quickly and I was able to reconnect with everyone I left when I packed my bags and took off a few months ago. The uncomfortable thing though were the questions like; why did you come back again? I was never able to give a good answer, always saying that I missed home, which was a big, fat lie. I miss nothing about my old life, but there’s no going back now.

My mother had a lot of questions, she wanted to know everything. Not about me living in NY, but about Sebastian. And it hurt like hell, so much I just wanted to light myself on fire to get away from the conversation.

I sat on my couch eating dinner, being absolutely drained of energy from the day. Life appeared to be more difficult these days and all I want to do is hide in my bed while watching Netflix. But life goes on, with or without you.

With Guardians of the Galaxy in the background playing, while I’m consumed in my thoughts, my head took me back to when I used to live here, before I decided to take the job in the States.

With my head bopping to the song playing I made my way to the bathroom. I took my clothes off and let the water fill up my bathtub. I put a bath bomb in and lit some candles, to set the mood. I was ready to wash off the day and to relax.

I noticed my fingers pruning up and got out, drying my body with the towel I hung on a rack. I jumped slightly as someone knocked on my front door. I couldn’t think of anyone wanting to see me and I still haven’t reconnected with my old friends and I don’t know if I want to. I don’t need to answer more questions about why I left New York and what happened with Sebastian.

I contemplated whether I wanted to open the door or not, pacing I my room. They would knock twice if it was important. As I heard a second knock I quickly put my robe on, sprinting to the door.

I opened it revealing a man I’ve never seen before holding a bunch of pink roses.

“Good evening, miss.” He gave me a wide smile and handed me the flowers. “These are for you and I wish you a good night.”

And with that he went back down the stairs, leaving me with a thousand questions. I went back inside and looked for a card, but there wasn’t one. I put the roses in a vase and placed the on my dinner table.

--

I hurried into the kitchen to get my water, almost knocking everything else over. My bag falling off of my shoulder and onto the ground. I picked it up groaning at my own stupidity. I should’ve woken up earlier or skipped one cup of coffee, no that’s not an option. I should have thought about what I want to wear yesterday, so that I didn’t have to cover my bedroom floor with piles of clothing.

I sprinted to the door, running out and down the stairs. It didn’t bother me before that the elevator is broken, because I’m not too bothered by walking up the stairs. But now I’m cursing at that godforsaken thing for letting me down and making me run even later for work.

I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping right in front of the door to try and catch my breath. I reached my hand out to open the door right as the door swung open and the same delivery guy from yesterday appeared in front of me. He held out a small cardboard box for me to take, but I hesitated before taking it, I still have some questions about yesterday’s delivery.

“Who is sending me these?” I tried to give him my most intimidating look to get him to reveal the name of the anonymous sender.

He just shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, really.”

He was about to walk away, when I followed closely behind him. “I know that you know who’s sending me these and I demand to know who!”

He just laughs and turned around to face me. “Look, I’m just delivering these, maybe you have a secret admirer?” He turned away again, got into his truck and drove away.

I got into my car opening the small package. There was a red box inside and the golden letters that said ‘Cartier’. I lifted the lid and inside was a ring. The band silver and a small, teardrop shaped diamond adorned the ring. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I couldn’t help my mouth falling wide open. I looked around me to tear my eyes away from the diamond ring. Whoever send this, definitely got the wrong person, but there was no way for me to know who I should sent it back to.

I took the ring out to examine it, the quality is astonishing and I could imagine the price of this small object could cover my rent easily. I stumbled upon some letters that have been engraved into the inside of the band that said; I’m still into you.

Reading the words only made me more confused as to why someone would send me a ring with a literal diamond and saying they’re still into me.

My confusion didn’t fade away for the entirety of the day and focussing on work was impossible to achieve with the expensive ring in my purse.

I finally arrived at home, happy to relax and on a mission to find out who has sent the ring to me. I quickly looked into my mailbox and took all my letters with me upstairs, where I threw them on my dining table.

I took of my clothes and slipped into my pyjamas to start my relaxing evening. Walking into the living room, I took my mail with me to the couch to see if I got anything important. A few were normal, adult life letters and some were advertisement. But then one thing caught my eye, a post card. The front picture showed a helicopter view of Central Park and on the bottom stood: Manhattan, NY.

I don’t know why anyone would send me a postcard from there, since I don’t know anyone who lives there. For the whole time I’ve lived in NY, the only person I got close with was Sebastian.

Sebastian.

That’s impossible, why would he send me a card from Manhattan? I turned the card around to see the address and whatever’s written on it. The only thing it said was; when I close my eyes, it’s you in my mind.

I wondered if it was him, but the address isn’t his. It wasn’t even sent from Manhattan, it was sent from Queens.

--

It’s been a week since I got something from my weird ‘anonymous’ Santa Clause and I have to admit, I miss it. Even though the things I got were pretty random and made no sense, I still kind of liked it.

Baking has never been something I’ve been good at. Everything comes out of the oven either burned or just tastes bad.

I danced around slightly to the music playing, spilling the batter I was mixing all over the place. But I didn’t care, I was happy to be dancing freely again, letting the music take over my body completely. I’ve always loved music but with what happened the past months, it was hard to focus on anything else.

I heard a knock on my door and whipped my head around, letting go of the whisk I was holding. I got overly excited about the thought that the delivery guy finally came back after a week without a word. I practically ran to the door stopping myself as I was about to whip the door open, holding the door handle firmly in my hand.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, hoping it would calm me down a bit. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and be disappointed if it wasn’t him.

I opened the door and behind it stood my now favourite delivery guy, I like him so much I should ask for his name. I tried to hold back a big smile as my hopes weren’t let down and I got excited. He handed me a box and I took it without hesitation.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” He laughed lightly, making fun of my excitement.

“No, what are you talking about?”

“You’re trying not to smile, but it’s so obvious.” I couldn’t hold back anymore and let my face light up.

He was cute, kind of. I mean he’s average looking, but not in a bad way. His brown hair matched his eyes perfectly in colour and he seemed to be at least ten centimetres taller than me. I wondered if he’s my destiny. What if all these deliveries are supposed to bring us together? I knew I would be taking a bold move and probably regret it after I ask, but I had to. “Are you- uh- single?”

He giggled and looked down to the ground. “Uh- yeah I am, why?” He looked up again to meet my eyes and smiled sweetly.

“Maybe we could go out sometimes?” I knew he was shocked by the look on his face and I already regretted opening my mouth.

“But what about your secret admirer?”

“If they’re not revealing themselves, I don’t want to have anything to do with them.” I gave him a reassuring smile and waited for his answer.

“Yeah why not. How about This Saturday?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’m Alex, by the way.” He extended his hand and I took it, shaking it a little.

After exchanging numbers I closed the door suddenly feeling an uncomfortable twist in my stomach. Am I ready for this or did I just make a bid mistake?

I got my scissors out and opened the box. Inside was another box and the contend of that, made me tilt my head to the side in confusion. It’s one of those Funko pops. It was Bucky Barnes in his green uniform.

No matter how confused I was, I still placed it on my shelve, above the TV.

--

Saturday finally arrived and I was ready for my date with Alex. I wore a simple, skin tight, blue dress and black heels. He told me about this restaurant that opened a few weeks ago and wanted to take me there. I still had the same uncomfortable feeling in my stomach and it didn’t seem to fade only getting stronger as the minutes passed.

I heard a knock on the door, assuming it’s Alex, I went back to the mirror checking if I look good or not. I didn’t feel as comfortable as I wish I did, but there’s no getting out of it now. I asked for a date and it would be rude of me to cancel when he’s literally at my door.

Opening the door, I was greeted with Alex in a blue suit and sadly it reminded me of someone else’s suit from a certain wedding.

We exchanged our hellos and he led me to his car. He opened the door of the passenger seat for me and as I sat down on my seat an all too familiar smell of leather hit my nostrils. The car ride wasn’t as fun as with Sebastian. Either Alex doesn’t to listen to music in the car or even worse, doesn’t listen to music at all.

“Can we put some music on?” I turned my head to look at him. He just nodded and turned the radio on. I decided to ask a risqué question, one where it determines whether this would work or not. “Do you like Panic ant the disco?” I bit my lip and waited for his reaction.

He laughed and shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t. I’m not into those emo bands.” He looked at me and from my expression, it was clear I was very offended. “OH- sorry.”

I just turned my head to the other side, looking out of the window.

To say that our date was a total failure would be an understatement. I’ve been on quite a few dates before, I’m not that lonely, but none of them were this stale and plain boring. I’ve never met someone with as little interests as Alex. This dude doesn’t have any hobbies or things he likes, none. I couldn’t even start a conversation about dogs, because guess what? He doesn’t like dogs.

We went our separate ways right at the restaurant, I had no interest in sitting in his car for another minute.

After getting out of my dress and heels, it was time to lounge on my couch to watch every movie in the MCU, except the ones Sebastian is in, those are banned in my apartment.

--

None of my Mondays been ever this bad. First, I spilled coffee all over my outfit this morning so I had to change again. Then my phone decided to die in the middle of the god dammed day and last but not least, to put the cherry on top, my car ran out of gas so I had to walk home for twenty minutes. And now someone’s knocking on my door and I hope it’s not a package.

I opened the door and a delivery guy stood there with a cardboard box in his hand, but it’s not Alex. I started to feel guilty that he changed his rout or even quit his job after out disastrous date. He just handed me the box and left without a word. Maybe word spreads fast in the parcel delivering world.

I put the package down on my kitchen table and went at it with my knife. Beneath the bubble wrap laid an item I wasn’t expecting- a Tupperware container. I was confused at first, but then everything seemed to click. All the packages were probably from the only person I wasn’t expecting to get them from

Sebastian.

But why would he sent me those? Last time I checked, he hated me and made that very clear by kicking me out of his apartment and never talking to me again.

The thought wouldn’t leave my mind and I couldn’t stop tossing and turning in my bed.

--

I didn’t get another package for a week and I was growing impatient. If Sebastian really was the one who send me the gifts, he would make it clear sooner or later. But the impatience was eating me alive from the inside out. I started to rush home after work to see if I got another clue. I wanted to stay home so I wouldn’t miss it, but I never did because there weren’t any deliveries.

I sat in my bed watching Netflix to distract myself, but my mind was still running a marathon. I wondered what the next package would be and if he would finally say it’s him. But what if it’s not Sebastian who did that? What if I’m just getting my hopes up, only to be let down? What if someone’s playing a prank on me?

I jumped up as I heard a knock on my door almost falling off my bed, possibly breaking my neck. But I didn’t care as long as I’m still able to get the door. I sprinted down my hallway slipping on the tiled floor. My hands reached the door as another knock echoes through the apartment. I opened the door and froze on the spot.

“Sebastian?”

“Last one, I promise.” He held out a cactus, but not just any cactus, the one I gave to my neighbour when I left.

I was both happy but also confused as to why he’s here.

“So it was you who send me all those things.”

He laughed quietly and looked down to the floor. Oh how I missed his laugh.

I stepped away from the door to signal him that he can come inside. He slowly walked into my apartment and looked around. He suddenly walked over to my shelf where I had placed the items he sent me. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. Sebastian lifted the plant to put it on the shelf next to the other items. I sat on my couch and waited for him to join me before talking.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I should’ve never let you go.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I thought it would be better for us not to say anything, but I realized that I miss you. God I miss you so much.” I saw tears forming in his eyes and I could no longer hold mine back.

“I know, I thought the same thing, that’s why I left.” I wiped away the tears that started to fall down my cheeks. He suddenly pulled me into a hug that lasted so long, it slowly placed the pieces of my broke heart together.

I pulled back to wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater. “But what about the post card, it was send from Queens.”

He kissed my cheek softly, the contact igniting a fire in my heart, slowly welding the seams of my heart together. “I send it in the name of my friend.”

“And what about the ring. I mean- you’re not proposing, are you?” I placed my hand on my chest and knitted my eyebrows together.

“No-“ he took my hand away from my chest and started to draw tiny circles on my palm. “It’s a promise ring. To promise you that I will never let you leave my side ever again.”

“Not even when I have to pee?” We laughed through our tears. He took his other hand and place it on the back of my head, pulling me closer until our foreheads touched.

“Move in with me.”

I pulled back a bit, shocked at what he had just asked me. To be honest, I didn’t even need to make up my mind. I wanted to leave Germany as fast as I could and I wouldn’t just move back to my favourite place, I would also move in with the man I love.

“I would love to.”

He pulled me closer by my waist, sitting me on his lap. He gently placed his hand on my cheek stroking my skin with his thumb, making me smile. I moved my face closer to his, taking in his scent that I’ve missed so much. His lips brushed against mine and finally after all those months, I felt his lips gently move against mine. I forgot how perfectly they moved with mine.

Finally, my heart was reassembled, completely complete.

And I couldn’t wait to move into my new apartment, with the love of my life.

Apartment Taglist: @funkenniffler @ghostbusterkevin @anxietyrosee @nikolett3 @rex-orange-baby @mightiestheroes @letsbestupidforever 

Permanent Taglist: (OPEN) @fuckthatfeeling @funkenniffler @void-imaginations @dewy-biitch @7kindsofpurgatory

[andthest0ryg0es]

This Isn’t Happening - Chapter 14

My sincere apologies for the LONG wait between chapters. Real Life and writing with @ohh-la-la-leto sidetrack me a lot. :) There’s only a few chapters left of this story and I’m hoping to post them all over the next couple months. THANK YOU, dear readers, for sticking with me and continuing to like and share my writing. It means more than you know. <3

   Two weeks ago Jared had gone hiking with a few female friends and snap chatted the whole day. Twitter had delighted in trying to figure out which of them may have been the one dressed as Robin at the party. Jen was both relieved that the identity of Robin was still a secret and annoyed that people assumed he must be fucking every female friend he has. Jared was posting pretty regularly on social media while they were apart, and it was nice to sort of relax into talking with her friends about the upcoming album and tour. She avoided the girlfriend subject entirely and no one minded or seemed to take particular notice.

She knew Jared was trolling her twitter account and she briefly thought about making it private and telling him to fuck off but she figured he’d probably already seen the worst of it and she may as well own her enthusiastic echelon status. If there was one thing Jared and Mars had taught her, it was to be herself. She knew he was viewing her account because he would sometimes text her with answers to questions or comments about the band that she was RTing like any echelon would. When will the new album be out? “Soon. :)” Where’s Shannon, we miss him. “I tried to talk Shannon into getting snapchat, he said it was stupid. :( Maybe I can convince him to start posting coffee facts again at least...” I wonder what tattoo Jared is going to get for the new era. “I have that planned already, actually. You want to be there when I get it done? Take some pics for me?” She’d nearly fallen out of her chair for that one. Watching Jared Leto get a tattoo might just be the limit of what her fangirl heart could take.

No one had posted or discussed the Halloween pics in awhile and Jared and friend’s snaps and Instagram stories from Thanksgiving, with no Robin in sight, seemed to convince the echelon it was a one night sort of thing. That narrative pissed her off more than the “which fabulous female friend is he fucking” one because it was quickly becoming tiring that everyone online thought they “knew him” and had an opinion on his life. And yes, Jen was well aware of how hypocritical that sounded given her twitter history but circumstances change and she’d definitely learned a thing or two about Jared, and even Shannon and Tomo, that the internet had gotten just so wrong.

Between secret projects and many late nights working to finish up the album by their deadline, Jared was just as busy as she was during their month apart. Inconveniently, his schedule was usually very opposite to hers as well. This resulted in a lot of sleepy late night or early morning phone calls where one or both of them were too tired to do much more than small talk. Jared made up for it in other ways though. Teacher appreciation week at her school was a bigger hit than ever when an “anonymous donor” sent a different food truck each day to feed all the staff. She came home each Friday night to a beautiful bouquet of flowers at her doorstep. And two weeks in when she’d complained that the t-shirt she stole from him didn’t smell like him anymore she received a package that night containing a t-shirt in a sealed ziplock bag with a sticky note attached that just said “xo.”

Throughout the month apart it seemed her nervousness for their planned time together evolved a different reasoning every week. The first week she obsessed over whether or not planning to spend a month for all intents and purposes living with a famous, rich boyfriend she’d only been with for three months was an entirely sensible idea or really just made her a slut and a gold-digger. Jared assured her on multiple occasions that she was clearly neither of those things. Week two and three she worried about being outed as Jared’s girlfriend and what that meant for her privacy and online social life. Jared suggested making her twitter and other accounts private before December was probably not the worst idea. She tried not to go CSI: Echelon on him when she pointed out he wouldn’t be able to see her tweets anymore then and he said that it wouldn’t be a problem.

Now she was down to simply being terrified about meeting Constance. She couldn’t recall having met a boyfriend’s parents anytime since high school. And Constance was an absolute icon, someone the echelon really looked up to. She didn’t talk to Jared about this particular fear much because the one time she brought it up all he did was gush about how awesome his mom was for half an hour and yes, Jared, she already knows that. That’s what all the nerves are about! So instead she circled back to asking him if he was sure about her invading his space for a full month and complaining that the sticky note path Shannon had helped her make so she wouldn't get lost had been removed in her absence. Jared was more than reassuring that it would be fun, he would make sure she didn’t get lost and yes, a month long “date” is maybe not traditional but what about him was? By the end of their time apart she was truly excited for their next month together.

Jen managed to pack fairly lightly thanks to a few reminders and packing tips from Jared and his tour experience. A couple of Xanax before her flight balanced out by a Starbucks, and omg was she looking forward to an unlimited supply of Black Fuel for the next month, and she was on her way.

“Sweetheart!” Jared called out to her as she ran to him from the car in his driveway. Jen threw herself into his arms, wrapped her arms around his neck and refused to let go, even as he walked out to pick up her bags and tip the driver for delivering her safely to him.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his neck as he maneuvered them inside the house.

“I can tell,” he smirked, prying her arms off of him and kissing her. “You sure you’re ready for a whole month of the craziness around here?”

“I’m very much looking forward to it. Besides, I can just hide in your room whenever I want, right?” she asked.

“Okay, so don’t take this the wrong way...” Jared said as he guided her down the hallway with his hand on her back and Jen tensed. He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly as he opened the door to one of the first rooms off the end of the hall, before it splits into the labyrinth of passageways that leads to the back of the house. “You have a tendency to get lost in the back of the house and I thought since you’re going to be here for awhile you might want your own space where you can actually find it.”

The room was beautiful, definitely bigger than his, with a king size bed and lots of pretty blue accents all around the room, her favorite color. She could see what she guessed were Shayla’s touches in the room, from the makeup vanity to the cute flower curtains. Jen was pretty sure she remembered it being an office last time she was here, so she knew he put a lot of thought into this, even if it was one of the assistants who put it together for her. She spun on her heels and attacked him with a big kiss. “I love it, thank you.”

Jared let out a breath neither of them realized he was holding. “You are welcome to come hide in my room anytime you want, sweetheart. I don’t want you to think I’m banishing you to the other side of the house,” he insisted, wrapping his arms around her and dropping kisses along her neck.

“Hey, I’d have been happy with a little closet space and a drawer for the month but you gave me a whole room. I know you were sick of tripping over my suitcase and all my stuff in your room when I was here for just a week so this is much more practical. Thank you, really,” she said, kissing him again. The look of relief on his face intrigued her. “Were you nervous about this? That’s adorable,” she commented, patting his cheek.

Jared blushed. “Stevie and Shannon were taking bets on how fast you’d run out the door. They said I was going too ‘Christian Grey’ on you, whatever that means.”

Jen laughed but blushed and hid her face in his chest. “Really, Jared? Does everyone know I submit to you in the bedroom?” she asked shyly.

“Um... They know my proclivities and they know you’re dating me. I think most people just put 2 and 2 together, sweetheart,” he explained, hugging her reassuringly. “You want some time to unpack or would you like to come join us in the studio? We’ve got a couple more hours probably.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming to the studio. Come on,” Jen answered excitedly, dropping her things at the foot of the bed and grabbing Jared’s hand to pull him out of the room. Of course, she barely made it down the hall before she quietly let Jared take the lead because she was lost again. Jared smiled knowingly and pulled her along behind him into the lab.

“Guys, Jen, Jen, guys,” Jared said by way of introductions, pointing to a couch off to the side where she could sit. “Who changed this configuration? I was gone five minutes!” Jared asked, instantly absorbed in his work again. Jen pulled her legs up on the couch and rested her chin on her knee, settling in to watch him work.

She wasn’t sure how long passed before she was startled by the couch jumping as a body crashed down onto it next to her and she suddenly found herself wrapped in Shannon’s bear hug. “If you keep staring at him like that I swear I’m gonna puke,” he teased.

“Shut up.” Jen covered her now red face with her hands. “I can’t help it. He’s mesmerizing when he’s in work mode. And honestly, what echelon wouldn't watch him given the chance?”

“I’ve seen echelon watch him work, they don’t make the same heart eyes you do. I can practically see the little hearts floating around your head,” Shannon said quietly, making sure his brother couldn’t overhear.

“Shannon, stop, please. I can’t even... I’m in so far over my head with him. Its been four months and we’ve seen each other like six times in that time. No one is using the ‘L’ word anytime soon so you can keep all that heart talk to yourself, thank you,” she admonished him.

“That’s fine. I just want to make sure you know that you’re different,” Shannon said.

“I know. He makes sure I know it, too,” she replied sweetly.

“Shannon, stop harassing my girlfriend and get back to work,” Jared warned, grabbing Shannon by the collar and playfully pulling him away from her. “You need anything?” Jared asked, checking the time on his phone. “We should be ready to break for dinner soon.”

The word soon made her smile involuntarily as she shook her head. “I’m good.” Jared leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips before returning to work. Jared pushed maybe a little longer than he should have at getting whatever sound it is he’s trying to capture. Everyone was increasingly frustrated and tired by the time Shannon finally approached Jared and whispered something in his ear that made him look over at Jen. She was still in the same spot on the couch, head propped up on her arms which are wrapped around her knees, but her gaze had gone glassy and she wasn’t paying as much attention as she was before.

“Okay guys, lets call it a night,” Jared announced and everyone rushed to shut down the studio and get out of there. Jen was so zoned out that she didn’t even register what was happening until Jamie and Stevie went rushing past her on their way out the door. Only Jared and Shannon remained in the room with her now. “You still with us, sweetheart?” Jared teased as he finished turning off the last of his equipment.

Jen blinked her daze away and sat up, stretching. “Shannon, are you staying for dinner?” she asked, ignoring Jared’s smart remark. Shannon put out his hands for hers and pulled her to standing and then wrapped his arms around her middle, picking her up in a big bear hug that cracked her back satisfyingly. When he set her down she gave him a smaller hug in return.

“You two haven’t had a night together in what, a month? I think if I stayed for dinner tonight Jared might just kill me and carry on with the band without me,” he said with a wink. “Have fun you two,” he called over his shoulder as he exited the studio, flicking the light switch off on his way out, leaving Jared and Jen alone in the dark.

Jen didn’t move, letting her eyes adjust to what little light was streaming into the studio windows from the moon. Jared easily made his way over to her due to his familiarity with the space and wrapped his arms around her. “You hungry?”

“Starving, but I didn’t want to interrupt and I’m not certain I’d have found my way back to my room alone,” she admitted sheepishly.

Jared pulled away for a moment and she heard him rummaging through a drawer before he was suddenly by her side again. He took her hand and as he led her through the halls he stopped at each corner and drew a small arrow with a black sharpie, indicating which way she should go to find her way back. “This is slightly more permanent than sticky notes,” he commented.

“You’re ruining your walls. For me?” she asked while she beamed at him.

“For you. You should be able to find your way to food at least. It’s only three turns. I’ve never met someone with such a bad sense of direction before,” he teased her.

“This place is insane. I’m sure I’ll figure it out given time,” she said as they entered the kitchen. Jared led her to a stool at the counter and pulled it out for her, guiding her to sit and placing a kiss on her temple before he turned to the fridge. He started pulling out ingredients and setting them out on the counter while she leaned over, trying to see what he was doing. “Whatcha got there?”

“Tonight’s menu is homemade guacamole and tortillas with grilled peppers,” he informed her as he set to work cooking. Jen sat back in awe. Jared looked up at her and chuckled. “Yes, there are a few things I can cook,” he said mockingly.

“I didn’t say anything,” she defended angelically. They kept up small talk long enough to get through most of their meal before the tension finally got to her.

“You know, I’m very impressed with the restraint we’ve shown today. I think we proved that we can be adult about our relationship and not just hump each other like bunnies every time we see each other.”

“Well, I have a work deadline and I told you I’d have to be in the studio a lot, that’s why you’re staying for so long,” Jared began defensively but she cut him off by placing her fingers on his lips.

“Jared... fuck me,” she said bluntly.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Jared laughed, scooping her up off the stool and spinning them towards her bedroom. “Another convenient thing about this room; its so much closer to the kitchen,” he said as he opened the door and set her down in front of the bed, kissing her fiercely.

They ripped at each other’s clothing, not bothering to be gentle about stripping down as quickly as possible and molding their naked bodies against each other once more as they fell back onto the bed. Jared pushed the mound of pillows at the head of the bed aside, and reached up. Suddenly Jen found her right wrist encased in a padded leather cuff. She looked up at him in surprise.

“Yet another convenient feature of this room,” he cited with a grin. When she made no further protest he quickly secured her other wrist as well, leaving her spread bare beneath him.

Now that he had her where he wanted her, his pace slowed and she groaned. “Jared, it’s been a month since you’ve touched me. Please don’t tease,” she begged despite her suspicion it would be useless. The evil laugh she got in response confirmed her suspicion, even as he drew his hand down her body to her slick center.

“What do you want?” he asked in that voice that made her clench her thighs together despite his hand between her legs.

“Oh, god, I want to cum for you,” she pleaded, already lost to her desire.

Jared pushed two fingers into her and pumped them in and out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his gaze held her in place beneath him as he worked her into a frenzy. He swiped his thumb against her clit and she keened, arching her back and closing her eyes uncontrollably, finally breaking his gaze.

“Beg,” he ordered, redoubling his efforts now with his fingers inside her and his thumb against her clit. She devolved into a gasping mess of pleases and curses before he brought his other hand up to her face, holding her chin so she was forced to look him in the eye. He slid his hand down to her neck, applying pressure lightly as he growled the order, “Cum.”

Jen screamed as her body shook with the climax she’d been denied for weeks. Jared kept working her with his fingers, letting up only a little bit in consideration of her post orgasmic sensitivity. As she tried to buck her hips away he applied more pressure to her neck, a feral grin on his face. He controlled her breathing and her body, pinning her legs open with the way he positioned himself between them, holding her at the crest of her pleasure. Seconds later he brought his mouth down to her breast and issued the command again, “Cum!” as he bit down on her left nipple, pulling it taut between his teeth.

Her body bowed beneath him and her mouth opened to scream but no sound came out for several long seconds. Just as she reached the peak and was starting to come down from her second earth shattering orgasm, Jared pulled his hands from her body and lined himself up, pushing into her to the hilt in one strong thrust. She cursed his name and pulled at the restraints, but wrapped her legs around him in invitation. He was impressed she still had the use of her limbs. Jared fucked her into the mattress unrelentingly, seeking the pleasure he knew he’d quickly find with her gorgeous body wrapped around him. He soon pulled out of her and stroked himself rapidly as he painted her body with his cum.

Jared managed to reach up and release her wrists before slumping to the bed beside her, panting. It was several minutes before either of them really moved or spoke, but Jared was gently caressing his hand along her arm the entire time, maintaining their intimacy. Eventually Jen broke the silence.

“One inconvenient feature of this room: the bathroom is across the hall,” she said, still slightly out of breath. “I can’t go running out there covered in your cum even if you tell me no-one is here. I’m too paranoid for that,” she tells him, smiling.

Jared leans up and kisses her, then points at the door in the corner of the room. “En suite bathroom,” he says. “This used to be a private office.”

“I thought that was a closet,” she said as she got out of bed and went to open the door. The bathroom wasn’t huge, but the shower was a beautiful grey tile and had a small bench and a rainfall spout. “You really thought of everything, huh?” she mused as she started the water.

“Not everything,” he admitted, rolling off the bed to join her. “If I’d remembered how much of a screamer you were I’d have soundproofed before you got here, sweetheart” he teased, pulling her in for another kiss.

The pair showered quickly, light touches and kisses enough after satisfying their craving for each other so completely minutes ago. They dried off and Jen scooped a couple pillows up off the floor and climbed back into bed, exhausted. Jared laid beside her, draping one arm across her torso. Within minutes he was squirming and adjusting in the bed, unable to find a comfortable position. He’d bought the bed for her, knowing she loved the soft mattress at the hotel in Vegas, but his sleeping preference was vastly different.

“Jared, why don’t you go sleep in your room? You really don’t have to stay,” Jen told him, kissing his jaw.

“I didn’t want to run out on you,” he said quietly, dropping kisses along her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be asleep in seconds. Honestly, I’m used to sleeping alone and I know you’d rather be sleeping on the floor. I don’t mind,” she assured him.

Jared stood from the bed and tucked her in, setting his hands on either side of her head and leaning in for a kiss before righting himself. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Jared,” she sighed and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly with a smile on her face.