#maybe its too early to introduce two new cousins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lumosinlove · 4 years ago

Text

Cw: mentions of drugs and mentions of past abuse

Previously On Relic Keel

Remus has started to associate sailing with Sirius Black ever since Sirius told him he watches his boat every morning. He thinks about how tired he is of knowing everything there is to know and wishes to leave the island.

Remus also starts his new job at the Hogwarts History Museum where he meets up with his friend Layla, whose family runs the museum, and whose brother, Lyall, Remus races sailboats against. On his way there, he reflects on the divide between Salazars and Godrics. He remembers Sirius at school, and how he was either celebrated or shunned with seemingly no pattern.

After their first shift at the museum, Layla takes Remus to The Lion for lunch, chastising Remus’ prejudices, and introduces him to Leo. Remus sees Leo’s rainbow bracelet and thinks about how badly he wants a boyfriend. We also learn that Luke is also gay, but that he and Remus have always been just friends.

Logan arrives at The Lion, too, is introduced, and listens in on Remus finding out a new exhibit on madness at the museum—the Lupins are known for going insane, but Remus’ mother mentioned nothing to Remus about this exhibit.

Leo learns that Logan is looking for someone (Finn). Logan reflects on a sleepy feeling that seemed to go away with his escape from the orphanage. Leo offers Logan a job, if he wants, and also tells him about The Voldemort.

The Voldemort is a boat from the eighteenth century that is said to have sank in The Cradle, a U shaped arrangement of islands just off of Hogwarts Southern Coast. Leo’s dad was close to finding it. Leo feels like he should want to find it, too, for his lost father.

Saint and Sirius arrive. Saint and Logan see each other for the first time in almost ten years, since Saint escaped when he was seven. Logan tells him that Finn got him out and Saint finds out that Logan sells Crucio.

Pascal, who owns the Lion with his wife Celeste, is introduced. He’s very close with Saint and Sirius, and he apparently knew Leo’s father before he went missing at sea. Saint learns that Logan is staying with Leo.

James and Remus arrive, looking for Dorcas who Thomas said might be selling Crucio to Luke. They’d like her to stop and are willing to pay. Logan takes advantage of this and, although he doesn’t sell to Luke, cons James out of 200 bucks.

Saint learns that Logan has gotten tangled up with The Carrows, the more dangerous of the two Crucio dealers, the other, safer one being Kasey Winter, in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out. Instead, he’s in their debt for using their Crucio himself.

Logan slips and calls Saint Bash. Saint refuses to help Logan get Finn out.

A/N: I super don’t speak Latin. And neither do my trees.

part v

Dorcas watched as Saint took his book from the floor of the back seat and flipped his sunglasses down.

“How long?” he asked. “And how do I keep getting stuck with this job?”

“Because Sirius is a better surfer than you are,” Dorcas replied. “And you know what, you can take off. Her parents are out of town for the weekend so her dad won’t be coming home or anything.”

Saint paused and raised an eyebrow. “And so I just drove you because…”

“I didn’t feel like walking?”

“Clever gal.”

Dorcas smiled. “I know.”

“Whatever, I need the car anyway.”

“What are you up to? I thought you were working at the Potters.”

“Just Sirius today,” Saint threw his book back into the rear seats. “I’ve got some detective work ahead of me.”

“Does this have anything to do with that little friend of yours that Sirius told me about?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Of course he told you.”

“You know you two can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Don’t I.”

“See you later, babe,” Dorcas opened her door.

Saint gave her a salut as she headed around towards the dug-out fence.

Marlene had her paints out and her hair up in a bun when she pushed the window up and open for Dorcas.

“Luke’s here,” she said, and rolled her eyes as she turned away.

Dorcas froze in the window frame to see Luke with his feet crossed, laying on Marlene’s bed.

“Okay,” Dorcas said. “Can he leave?”

“Hey,” Luke said. “Cousin privileges.”

“Girlfriend privileges,” Dorcas said, shutting the window behind her. “Plus, can’t you go, like, toss a ball at a net with a stick or something?”

Luke rolled his eyes—not unlike his cousin. “I’m on a rest day. Plus, I’m off the team.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dorcas raised an eyebrow.

“He’s just getting out of the house for a bit,” Marlene said with a pointed look that Dorcas understood as he’s getting away from his mother.

“Plus,” Marlene continued. “He’s a good cover story.”

“I thought your dad wasn’t here.”

Marlene shook her head. “Came home early. Guess his newest gal pal didn’t like golf. He’s over at the club now.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Luke asked. He had reached over to the bedside table and put a bowl of what looked like mango slices onto his stomach. “With you two, I mean.”

“I am his little princess,” Marlene said dryly. “Not to be dated.”

“And a Salazar girl who lives in The Hollow?” Dorcas shook her head. “No deal.”

“Right,” Luke said. “Like that’s never happened before.”

Dorcas snorted and sat on the bed, too, stealing a few pieces of fruit. “Like you’re any better than the rest of them, Deveaux.”

“I am,” Luke said. “I don’t hate Salazars.”

“But you hate Hollows.”

Luke grinned. “I don’t hate them, either. They hate me, and what am I gonna do about their jealousy? That’s their issue.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” Dorcas sighed.

“He’s really not though,” Marlene stepped back as she regarded the painting she was working on. Luke’s face looked back out at them from the canvas. “He just likes to make-believe.”

“Could have fooled me and my friends.”

“He’s a great actor,” Marlene agreed, then stuck her tongue out at Luke. “I just happen to have known him before he learned how.”

“All right, fuck you both,” Luke grumbled, and ate another piece of mango.

“Believe me,” Dorcas said. “We’re not jealous of you.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me you wish you didn’t have to sell Felix to make a little more money?”

Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Like you and your money live such a great life.”

Luke looked away, jaw tight.

“Yeah,” Dorcas said. “I’d take Crucio and the friends I have over that any day.” After a moment of hesitation, she looked down and mumbled. “And by the looks of your little habit, so would you.”

“Fuck you, Meadowes,” Luke snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, all right,” Marlene said, tilting her head as she added color to Luke’s cheeks in her painting. “Cool it, kids. Take a chill pill. Knock it down a notch. Luke, why don’t you go get us some pizza or something? Or maybe pick up from Thomas’. I crave his nachos, holy cow. Also, tell him to come hang out later tonight, if he can.”

Luke held Dorcas’ eyes for a moment, then pushed himself up from the bed. “Pepperoni, you?”

“Pineapple and ham, thanks,” Marlene said, and smiled at Dorcas as she patted his back out the door.

“Hi,” Marlene laughed once the door closed behind him. She walked into Dorcas’ arms. She took Dorcas’ face between her hands and peppered kisses to her mouth. “How are you?”

“Worried about basically all of our friends,” Dorcas laughed. “And that one, I guess, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Marlene sighed, laying down on the bed and eating a slice of mango. Dorcas mirrored her position. “No, seriously, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. I mean, I’ve got Luke who, one, needs to get out of his house, and two, needs someone to love, like, God, I wish he had a boyfriend. I just want him to get off this island, go to college, and meet the sweetest human in the world, you know?” Marlene sighed again, eyes far away. “He doesn’t act like he deserves that, but…it’s really his family he didn’t deserve. He’s all torn up about his dad, but his dad’s…a schemer. You know? And his mom, don’t even get me started.”

“Maybe he can still meet someone here,” Dorcas replied, and reached out to brush Marlene’s hair away from her face with a smile. “You never know. We didn’t. How long did we spend on this island without knowing each other existed?”

Marlene’s smile faltered in a way that Dorcas was beginning to recognize. It worried her.

“What?” Dorcas asked softly.

Marlene tilted her head. “Hm?”

“You keep doing that,” Dorcas said, tracing a thumb over one corner of Marlene’s mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Marlene said. “I was just thinking about Luke. I mean, my parents sucks but at least they’re…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Not in jail?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Marlene laughed. She scooted closer, letting Dorcas hitch her thigh over her hip, Dorcas’ thumb rubbing idly over her soft skin. “Now what are you worrying about, lover?”

“Sirius,” Dorcas began. “I don’t know he just…he’s never seemed…happy? Saint. He’s trying so hard to be happy that I know he’s not. And now there’s Logan which I think stirred up a lot of Saint Clair stuff for him. I mean, Jesus, how do we not know what’s up with that place?”

“Gods are good at not paying attention,” Marlene said solemnly.

“Saint never takes that damn cross off,” Dorcas said. “I mean, wouldn’t you want to let it go?”

“Sorry, who’s Logan? He got out? As in escaped? Like Saint did?”

Dorcas nodded. “I haven’t talked to Saint about it yet. Me and Sirius are gonna tag-team later, make him let it out.”

Marlene looked suspicious. “Good luck.”

“We have our ways,” Dorcas laughed. “And Logan…He deals. I know him a little. Not really.”

Marlene nodded, going quiet at the mention of Crucio as she always did.

“I like what it gives me,” Dorcas said gently. “Freedom, Marls. More than any other job here could. At least any job that I could get. And its from Kasey, who makes it safely. Unlike the Carrows. So—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Marlene said, and pushed herself closer. “I know. Really, I know. I’m proud of you. I just wish there wasn’t as much risk.”

“Like the police do anything about it,” Dorcas sighed, running a hand through Marlene’s hair. “They probably like the revenue it brings for the island.”

“Yeah,” Marlene sighed.

“Well,” Dorcas said. “We probably have at least twenty minutes before Deveaux returns with the pizza…”

Marlene smiled and pushed Dorcas’ hat off, leaning over her on the bed. “Oh? Twenty minutes you say?”

Saint parked the Jeep between two trees in an overgrow section of a Salazar road. He knew where The Carrows lived. It was difficult to miss their house. Saint could practically smell the gold and diamonds. He felt like he smell the Crucio, too, the rubber bands and the plastic bags, and the sickly sweet powder.

There was no one outside. The whole grandiosity looked strangely deserted.

Saint reached into the rear again for the latest book he had borrowed from James. Frankenstein. Not one he hadn’t read before, but a good one none the less.

“Don’t know why you want that one,” James had said when he handed it over. They had both been hot from working in the sun—Saint on the lawn, James on his backhand. “I had to write a book report on that in, like, what, ninth grade? Oof.”

“Beluis amicitiam,” Saint had replied.

“How the fuck do you know Latin?” James had said. “You aren’t even at our school.”

“You gave me a book on Latin.”

James nodded. “Right.”

“Well?” Saint had asked. “You’re at school. What’d I say?”

James squinted one eye shut. “Beast…friends?”

Saint had laughed. “Literally, sure.”

Saint opened the book now, rolling the window down in the stuffy car. The AC was broken.

“Monsters like company,” he said aloud into the small space and settled down to wait.

Lily didn’t expect to find herself painting an old boat with James Potter on a Saturday afternoon, but painting she was. She dipped the fat brush into the blue paint, trying to wipe her hair out of her face without getting blue in it.

“Still doing okay over there, Lils?”

Lily looked up to see James’ head pop out over the upside-down bow.

“All good,” Lily nodded. “You?”

James smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lily said. “Just working on my tan.”

James’ head appeared again, only this time his expression was incredulous. “We both know we both burn.”

Lily laughed. “I guess so.”

The Potter’s had their own, small beach in front of their property, and Lily dug her feet down into the sand, looking at the inviting ocean.

She felt all too awkward after their talk a few nights ago. She had been brash, and almost cruel at some points. James was—good. But she didn’t want to end up like her mother. She didn’t want to stay for someone, like her mother had for her father, and regret it, like she could tell her mother did sometimes.

And if she had wanted someone to come out into the world with her, she couldn’t have picked a worse candidate. James was a Potter, and the Potters were Hogwarts Island’s beating heart. Their money was in every part of this island. Every grain of sand, every brick. Hogwarts Academy, whose headmaster was James’ father.

If Lily loved James, she’d never escape.

And the problem was, she did love James.

“So, I was thinking about doing a movie night or something,” James said from the other side of the boat. “Put a sheet up and a projector. We could lay it all out on the lawn, or by the pool. Get some candy and popcorn and shit, invite everyone.”

Lily cleared her throat. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

James was at the front now, painting the boat’s nose. “Any suggestions or requests?”

Lily smiled. “Is it too cheesy to do Pirates of The Caribbean?”

James laughed. “Hell no. There’s no better place!”

Lily shrugged. “Then definitely that. Oh, Will Turner.”

James snorted. “Yeah, can’t say no to that.”

Lily smiled at him, and shifted closer to the other side of the bow.

“So, how’s your common-app going?” James asked. “These essays are sort of killing me. I mean, you’re staring out a window. What do you see? What the fuck kind of prompt is that? That’s what’s going to get me into college?”

Lily laughed. “Not to mention asking me why I want to go somewhere. They’re basically forcing me to make something dramatic up.”

“Right. If I’m being, you know, honest, I feel simple, and if I’m embellishing, I feel fake.”

Lily looked up at him. “Exactly. No, that’s—exactly.”

They smiled at each other, paintbrushes poised.

“I don’t know,” James sighed finally. “I’m—I’m sort of worried, Lils.”

“What about Lacrosse?” Lily asked.

James nodded. “That’s what my dad says. And, yeah, I love it, but…sometimes I wonder if it’s more that I love who I’m playing with. Luke, Remus, Thomas.”

Lily nodded, eyes flitting over his face which had gone serious and tense. “Right. No, that makes sense. But J, you’re so smart. And kind.”

James’ smile was small, but his eyes, when he looked at her, were fond. “Not as smart as you. And I can’t get a degree in kindness.”

Lily hummed, thinking. College was a sensitive topic for everyone it seemed. What was supposed to be one of the best parts of their lives was all uncertainty and vagueness. She thought of Marlene, and how she hadn’t told Dorcas about her early-decision acceptance yet. This seemed to be all goodbyes and leave-behinds.

“Sorry,” James cleared his throat. “That was a downer thing to say.”

Lily shook her head. “I’m starting to think college is just a downer thing.”

James smiled, and, even though it was something that had only been gone for a moment, Lily found that she had missed it. James was so bright. “Yeah.”

Lily knew that she was going to say goodbye to James in a year. But for the first time, she wondered how she knew, and when she had decided.

“You’re going to be amazing, Lils,” James said softly. She could tell that they were both thinking of their conversation. He looked down at her with his hazel eyes. “Really, you are.”

Lily meant to say thank you.

Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. James’ body tensed, and then relaxed. His mouth opened beneath hers and she cupped his cheek, her other palm splayed on his chest. He was warm from the sunlight. He made a soft sound and tilted his head to kiss her again, hand between her shoulders. Then, he pulled back, their foreheads together. There was paint on his chest from Lily’s paintbrush. Blue, right over his heart.

“Lils,” James gasped. He wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist. “Lils, mixed messages, mixed messages…”

He was out of breath. Lily had made him that way. Her own heart was beating out of her chest.

“You’re right,” Lily breathed, and stepped away, drawing a fallen strap of her tank top up her shoulder. “You’re right, God, sorry.”

“No, it’s,” James began. “I mean, that was nice. Really nice.”

Lily sent him a wavering smile over her shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about—” the paint. Everything.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye as he passed his hand through his hair a few times. This time, he came to stand beside her as they worked quietly.

It only took Lily a few moments to not be able to stand it any more. The feeling of him so close, of wanting him the way she did. He was gentle. He kissed in a way that made her want to melt. He had made her laugh, that night that they spent together, in between those kisses and gentle touches.

“Why did you ask me to do this with you, James?” Lily said. “I mean—aren’t you mad at me?”

James didn’t respond for a moment, but finally turned.

“What, we can’t be friends?” he asked.

“I wasn’t very nice to you the other night,” Lily said, and then groaned. “And—I mean, I feel awful about it but…you understand, don’t you?"

“I’m not here to tie you down, Lily,” James said, eyes firm behind his glasses. “If that’s what you think friends do…I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re not my friend,” Lily burst out, and then covered her eyes. “I mean—you are. But you’re…”

“It’s fine, Lils,” James said. When Lily looked up, he was shaking his head and stooping to dip his brush again. “Really, let’s just…let’s paint and tan. I’ll get us some sunscreen.”

“James—”

“You kissed me and then you said we weren’t friends. Forgive me if I’d rather stay where we are than go farther or backwards into those two territories that you seem to not want.”

Lily blinked.

James glanced at her, then away. “I should probably be asking you to leave. But I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. Not now, not if you really think that’s so inevitable.”

Lily stared at him. He was looking resolutely at his work, jaw tight. He looked beautiful, even when he was sad and overwhelmed. Lily was so angry at herself.

She didn’t want to lose him, either.

She timed her paint strokes to his, and they worked beside each other quietly.

Saint didn’t find what he expected to find.

Instead of Logan coming up the path, Luke Deveaux passed right by his car and open window.

Luke looked down in passing, probably expecting to see an empty vehicle, and then did a double take when, instead, he found Saint sitting there, Frankenstein in one hand, balanced on the steering wheel, and the other elbow resting out the window.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said.

Luke stopped walking. He had a gray t-shirt on with a large, navy Nike swoop on it, and black running shorts. Earbuds dangled around his neck, tangled in the two fine gold chains that hung there and trailing all the way into his pocket, where Saint could see the weight of his phone. He was sweaty, as though he had run here from Godric.

“What?” Luke said.

“Bad move,” Saint replied. “Taking your hit from The Shining twins.”

Luke just stared at him. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Saint smiled. He liked Deveaux when he was caught off guard. This had never happened before.

“Well—” Luke began. “You’re here, too.”

“Not like that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t deal.”

“I don’t.”

“So,” Luke’s eyes flit around the Jeep’s exterior. “You just sit in junk cars and read—” Luke looked forward. “Shelley?”

Saint frowned in approval and squinted back towards the house. “You say that almost as if you’ve read it.”

“I have.”

“What, in your ninth grade book report?”

“No, with my—” Luke turned his head away, mouth clamping shut.

“I see,” Saint said after a moment. “A bit of a strange parental bonding choice, but all right.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said. “And what the fuck did you call me?”

That was when Saint spotted Logan. He sat up and unlocked the Jeep doors with a click.

“Get in,” Saint said.

Luke scoffed. “Fuck off.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that in five seconds. Get in, tweedle, or I’ll tell your mother about your candy addiction.”

To Saint’s slight surprise—he was used to people being drawn to him—that seemed to work and Luke complied, but he walked slowly, distrustfully, around the bonnet before sliding into the passenger seat.

Logan was coming up a different path, one stemming from the back of the house to what looked like a side door.

“She wouldn’t care,” Luke said as he slammed the door.

“You in my passenger seat says differently,” Saint said, and glanced at Luke’s wrist. “Nice watch.”

It was gold and glittery. It looked like it had probably been his father’s, and by no means looked like it should be worn on a run.

“Your car smells like wet dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Saint replied, eyes on Logan. He had knocked and was waiting now.

“I was talking about Black.”

Saint glanced at him. “You’re funny, Galileo.”

Luke just shook his head, bringing his t-shirt up to wipe his forehead. “Stop calling me tweedle—you think I’m dumb?”

Saint laughed. “No.”

“All right,” Luke put a hand on the door. “I’m getting out.”

“No,” Saint said, and grabbed Luke’s arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Stay here or you’ll blow this for both of us.”

Luke shook him off and Saint pushed his door open. He began his stride up towards the house without looking back. He wondered if Luke was a snoop. The thought made him smile.

Logan saw him when he was half-way to the door, and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands out in an effort to silently say go back.

“Hello, number ten,” Saint said, leaning beside the door. “Now, who are you waiting for?”

“Saint, don’t.”

“Look, I’m hoping it was me, and if so, your ride’s here.” Saint narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“What do you care if I’m here?”

Saint looked at Logan’s backpack, the one that was always filled with Crucio. Even at the sight of it he imagined that he could feel the sweet, sleepiness that occupied his nights at the orphanage.

The door opened.

“Oh, look,” Amycus said, resting a hand on the door. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What is it you’re calling yourself these days? Saint.”

“Hello, Amy,” Saint smiled. “Nice to see you, we’re going now.”

“You can’t,” Amycus snarled. “He owes us.”

“I’m sure you haven’t lost that much,” Saint said back evenly.

“Oh yeah?” Amycus laughed. “Why don’t we take a look at green-eyes here’s subconscious. You want something bad enough, you like something enough, something feels good enough, then there comes a point where you don’t even know how far you’ve gone to get it. How much Felix have you taken, do you think, Tremblay?”

Logan just looked down.

“See?” Amycus cocked his head. “He doesn’t know. Which means I make make up whatever number I like.”

Saint nodded, thoughtful. “Interesting. What number is that?”

Amycus just grinned. “Your friend here will know when I tell him.”

“Bullshit,” Logan snapped, and Saint held up a hand.

“We’re going now, and you know what?” Saint leaned in. “You don’t know shit about what he wants.”

“Come back without your handler, Tremblay,” Amycus called after them.

Back at the car, Saint could see Luke reading Frankenstein through the windshield.

“Who’s that?”

“Who you got your two hundred bucks for,” Saint murmured.

“What about the two hundred more you just cost me?”

“You’re welcome,” Saint said, and motioned to Luke to get out.

“And what exactly was I supposed to get out of this?” Luke said, crossing his arms.

“A chit-chat with yours truly,” Saint replied. “Logan, get in the car.”

Logan glared, but took Luke’s place in the passenger seat.

Saint slid back into the driver’s side, took Logan’s backpack from him, and slung it into the back seat.

“Oh,” Saint leaned out his window. “And I’m sure you can go right up now.”

“I’m sure I can,” Luke tossed Saint the book. “Don’t forget Potter’s book. Did you steal it, or what?”

If only he knew, Saint thought.

“Bye, Luke,” Saint called as he turned out of the grove and down the street. He looked in his review mirror and smiled at the sight of Luke standing, framed in it. Then, he put his arm lazily on the steering wheel and let Luke’s golden watch flash in the sunlight on his wrist.

“You didn’t have to fucking—fetch me,” Logan grumbled.

“Yes, I fucking did.”

Logan turned towards him in his seat, and for a moment Saint thought he was going for his backpack, but Logan just looked at him.

“Look,” Logan said.

“I’m driving.”

Logan ignored him.

“There’s a treasure,” Logan said instead. “Leo told me about it. He thinks his dad knows where it is—The Cradle? Look, I—If we can get it—”

“Oh, good,” Saint sighed. “He sells Crucio and he’s a Voldemort tourist.”

Logan blinked. “You know about it?”

Saint scoffed. “Of course I know about it. Everyone knows about it, Logan.”

“Fine, but—if we can get it, then I can pay off—”

“I’m sorry, excuse me, excuse me,” Saint held up a hand, one on the wheel. The houses went from the tall mansions of Salazar to the workshop rows of Helga, to the low houses of The Hollow. “Did you or did you not just place all of your hopes of freedom on a long lost, legendary treasure.”

“Bash—Saint.”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s not my hope, it’s just an option.”

Saint just shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Come on,” Logan urged as Saint stopped the car in front of The Lion. “Isn’t there something you want? Something that much gold could get you?”

“Come to think of it, there isn’t that much I want, no.”

Logan paused, and then said, “Then, is there something you hate?”

When Saint didn’t reply for enough time, Logan took his backpack and got out of the car.

Sirius had dreamed about his little brother last night. Only, he had been on Wolfsbane, and Regulus had been on shore. There had been someone else in the boat, too, someone expertly pulling the ropes and taking Sirius farther out to sea. The wind had been warm.

Sirius had woken up thinking about Remus Lupin.

His entire day was thrown off.

Sirius looked over at Saint. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Saint had his head in Dorcas’ lap and his eyes closed. “Pardon?”

Dorcas and Sirius glanced at each other. “Logan.”

“We were at Saint Clair together. What else is there to say?”

“Maybe how he got out.”

“And why,” Dorcas added, running a hand through Saint’s hair. “It might help if you talked about that place more.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Sirius groaned. “Saint. Come on, that kid looked freaked talking to you and then he bolted. What’s up?”

Saint sighed, his face opening up into a rare moment of softer eyes, and he sat up, nearly facing away from the both of them.

Sirius listened to the crickets outside. Before, he had just wanted to know about the orphanage. Now, he wanted Saint to not have to keep it all inside.

“When I arrived when I was five, Logan and Finn were already there,” Saint said finally. “And its not like its this horrible place. We have beds and food and we go to school together. We have friends. But we’re also locked away. The nuns are strict. The punishments are old-fashioned. A slap. A few days in solitude. The problem is…”

Sirius got up from his perch on the window and sat beside Saint on the ratty old couch they had dragged in. Saint didn’t look at him, but let him and Dorcas lay gentle hands on him, Dorcas’ on his back, Sirius’ one of his crossed ankles.

“I watched kids turn eighteen,” Saint said, voice steely. “And they’d be packing their bags and then—unpacking them.”

“They,” Dorcas began. “You mean they decided to stay?”

Saint just shook his head slowly. “I still haven't completely figured it out. I think—maybe Crucio has something to do with it. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make them stay. I keep having this—this memory of being so tired at night. And these dreams.”

“The plant Crucio is made out of has Melatonin in it,” Dorcas said, brow creased. “It influences the dreaming. The hallucinations.”

“So, what?” Sirius asked. “They stay for Crucio, you think?”

“They work some,” Saint said. “Around the island. But, yeah. They stay.”

“You think they’re bringing money back?” Dorcas asked gently. “To the orphanage?”

Saint shrugged. “I told you. I haven’t completely figured it out. But I’d rather figure it out from the outside. Even when I was seven, I knew something was wrong. But I was older when I arrived. Finn and Logan had been there since they were too young to recognize something like that. They didn’t know anything else.”

“And…you do?” Sirius asked faintly. Saint had never brought up remembering anything about his prior life, his family.

Saint laughed faintly and got up. “Who knows. That’s the thing about memories, right? We tend to make them worse, or make them better.” Sirius watched him go to the sink and turn it on and off. He opened the refrigerator and then closed it. Finally, he stilled.

“But I hate them,” Saint said, almost to himself. “I hate them for making anything feel real.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when Dorcas’ phone lit up with a loud ping.

She picked it up. “From Marlene. Apparently we’re invited to a movie night at Potter’s house.”

“Of course we are,” Sirius sighed, and got up and wrapped his arms around Saint from behind. “What do you feel like?”

Saint looked at him over his shoulder. “Well, how could I ever pass that up?”

When Logan didn’t find Leo at The Lion, he went to the Knut’s workshop instead. He’d been in there a handful of times now. It was a crowded room, walls-to-ceiling tools and cupboards that organized different found objects. Sea-glass and shards of blue china. There was large glass jars of things like compasses or pieces of weather vanes hanging by woven rope plant holders from the ceiling. There was a forge that was cool now, and there was a long work bench.

He found Leo on the work bench with the garage door open to the street, shirtless and welding something together.

“Oh,” Logan said instead of announcing himself.

Leo looked up, then back down, sparks flying around him. “Hey, what’s up?”

Logan walked a few steps inside and set his backpack—which was still empty—down.

“I want to help you,” he said.

The sparks stopped and Leo pushed his welding mask up. He was sweaty, his cheeks flushed from the heat. “What? With this?”

Logan rolled his eyes and walked in to straddle the other end of the work bench. “The treasure. We need to find the treasure. Think how rich we’d be.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, then took his mask off and set his equipment down. For a moment, his face looked thunderous. Logan thought he was about to tell him to get out, but the storm dissipated.

“This isn’t a joke to me,” Leo said evenly after another pause. “And it’s not some greedy game, either. That’s not why my dad looked for things like this. He loved history.”

Logan blinked. “You—you don’t want the money?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. What do you think the finder gets?”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying don’t make me regret telling you. I’m saying my dad was never one to just pawn things off. He wanted things like that on display, for people to learn from.”

“How very, very noble and grand,” came another voice, and they both looked up to see Saint standing there. He had changed since the last time Logan had seen him. He was wearing a t-shirt that said New Orleans Saints.

“Saint?” Leo said.

“Hi there,” Saint gave a little salute. “I have a movie night to go to, apparently, a nice little godly sleepover, but I thought I’d stop by.”

“What are you doing…” Logan began warily.

“Well, come to think of it, there is something I hate.”

Leo tilted his head. “What is he talking about?”

“Not to mention,” Saint continued, and touched the bottom of the hanging compasses. He studied one, then looked at them and grinned.

“I do like gold,” Saint said.

169 notes · View notes

optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years ago

Text

My Patriot

*Gif not mine

Chris Evans x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Slight injury, One curse word Summary: Your high school was able to allow girl’s to join football. Being around a football fan who happens to be your dad, he taught you the ropes in your freshman year, you made it to the Varsity squad your Sophomore year and your last game turned out to be a disaster at first but you made it a win.

A/N: I’ve wanted to join football after being in marching band and hearing from my guy friends (football players) who offered me to join. But I think I rather play in a band than be a low-life football player. Basketball is better along with baseball. Marching band may not be a sport to some but it is to me.

Amazing dividers by @whimsicalrogers I guess I lost the fan for 49ers and Raiders, I became a Patriot.

Senior year was one of the most stressful and overwhelming. The season was at its end and it was gonna be one of your last games before you take on your wrestling season in February. This last game was gonna be one of the most powerful games of all. The last ones should always make it worth. Show that the Boston Reds were no match for the Spartans.

You took football since you were a freshman.

One of the worst decisions you made but you’ve learned to become the first quarterback as a girl. A woman if you might add. Living in a family who were into football, you were the only oldest grandchild in the family. And only one person out of your family approved it. Your dad, Chris Evans.

Your grandma, Lisa didn’t like the idea and almost slapped the back of her son’s head while Scott came to every game with a box of bandages and water.

Your dad and Scott were part of the football volunteers. They would stand on the sidelines, help your teammates with water, Gatorade, courage and support. Chris wasn’t your coach, no, but he did coach you at home if you needed it. You two on the weekends would go out jogging, try out new healthy foods, always took you to your school and practice some throws out in the field, since they did allow the field to be a public place at some times.

You loved your dad, more than you loved football. There were times where he wasn’t there, but Scott and your aunts were there to record your touchdowns and take downs.

You had a couple friends on the team, almost half of them were part of the marching band up in the bleachers.

The boys on your team always supported you. Not only because you were practically Captain America’s daughter, they knew you were the best out of all of them. They treated you as an equal. Which was a good feeling to have. You were tall and strong. You weren’t positive this was gonna be a career after you graduate. It was something to do and have for the rest of your life. Something to have fun with.

Chris didn’t expect you to continue this football thing, he knew you would start something better. He was just proud to see you out in the field doing something to prove anyone could do any sport no matter what they looked like.

School was just about to end and you pulled out your phone after you felt it buzz. A message sent towards you, you opened it and saw the message.

Dad Few minutes away.

You grinned while shaking your head. He always wanted to be there for your training just after school. You assumed Uncle Scott would be there before your game starts. Your dad was there early to make sure what the team had and didn’t. He was a volunteer anyway.

The bell rung and you stood up, walking over to your locker. Once you got it open, someone pats your back. A random guy who nods at you, “Good luck at the game!” You smiled softly with a nod and reached in to look for your large water bottle.

You cursed under your breath. You must’ve left it at home. You closed your locker and made your way to the side building where the footballers were gathering up. Everyone wore their jerseys with their numbers. On a game day, every sport player should wear their jerseys through the school day and you had yours on.

Your coach comes in and claps his hands, “All right, everyone. Let’s get out there fast! The other team is coming in few minutes, take the field. Coach Henderson will be separating groups and I want good spirit out there! Let’s go!” Everyone in the room went their own ways, most of them heading to the locker room for their gear. You went to a separate room and got your things on alone.

Even for a girl, you couldn’t get ready in the boys locker room, of course. You slipped on your shoulder gear and slipped your jersey on over it. Your skin tight pants with pads over your knees, your cleats on real tight. You put your phone in the locker and closed it, taking your helmet and rushed out to the field.

“All right ladies! Let’s line up.”

You rushed around the corner and almost bumped into someone, they shout, “Woah. Easy there, hey!” Your dad says with a grin, your eyes widen and you let out a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.” Your dad takes your helmet by the bars of your facemask and lifts it up to see small strands fall over your face. He grins, “Maybe put on your helmet after you get to the sidelines.”

You smiled and saw in his hand that he had your water bottle. “You found it!” You said, Chris lifts it up and nods. “That’s not the only reason why I came.” You furrowed your brows, “I thought you had a flight to Los Angeles?”

Chris lifted up his shoulders, “I can’t miss a final game in your lifetime, now could I? Besides even if you did NFL, your grandma would be pulling at our ears.” You smiled and took the bottle from his hand, giving him a large hug as he lets out a huff. He lightly chuckles and hugs you back just as tight. He shakes you a little, “Now, go out there and practice. I’ll be around, Scott will be around before the game. I love you.”

You pulled away and slipped on your helmet, “I love you too.”

Your coach called you in and you made your way over. With a nod of approval, you took that and followed your team onto the field. Warming up your shoulders, tossing your throws and kicks. Chris stood on the sideline, arms crossed as he chatted with your coach. You stretched your legs and slammed into a couple of your teammates to get yourself warmed up for this last game.

The families began to stack the whole bleachers, people with balloons, you knew your whole family will be here. Especially for your last game as a senior. They would start introducing the seniors. Half of your team were seniors and they were really supportive of you.

You thought they just liked your dad around. You saw what looked like your family. Lisa, Scott, and the sisters along with your cousins. They were waving at you from the bottom of the bleachers. You look over to Chris who waves you over from the sidelines and you rushed over to him and walked over to the fam.

“Hey! Sweetheart!” You smile big and hugged Lisa first, who gave you large kisses on your head. You hugged your two aunts, Shanna and Carly, your cousins Ethan, Stella and Miles. They started to admire your gear while Stella held onto you like a koala, ‘cause she loved you. Being her only girl cousin, you always did dolls and makeup while you did football and tag with the boys.

You started to hear the marching band play and you turn around. Chris nods, “You’re up, #4.” You grin and slipped on your helmet while the family waited. Usually on Senior games, they’d always read off what these seniors wrote for their last year and the family follows them down the row with balloons and large posters.

After the short time of the marching bands introduction to the field and the national anthem, the band makes a aisle for the senior families to walk down. They let a couple cheerleaders down the aisle, everyone following behind the senior friend.

They did that for more students till it was your turn.

Your team were very chaotic so they began to cheer your name. “Evans! Evans!” They shout, you couldn’t help but laugh at them. “Now, quarterback on the football team, number 4 on the field. Y/N Evans.” You feel a couple of your team chant your name as you walked down the aisle with your dad by your side. The man on the speakers began to read your last words for your senior year and you were just lucky to be here.

After they represented every senior, the game was starting. You felt like your dad in Not Another Teen Movie, Jake Wyler, quarterback asshole jock. It was a hilarious movie. Chris stood by the sidelines and watched you stand behind your teammates.

You hear your teammate yell hut and you run forward to catch the ball i your hand. Guarding it in your arm, you head to the right. Then you feel a harsh jab to your back. The referee blows his whistle and you stand up. Okay, you knew some were quick.

Your teammate helps you up and you glance across the field, watching your dad give you a thumbs up while shouting, “You okay?” You replied with a pair of thumbs up and he gives you a nod. The team sets up by the yard line where you fell.

The teams began to line up in their positions and you bent your knees. Breathing slowly, you focused on the directions you could go. Maybe throw it to one of your teammates who could be open. “Hut!” You catch the ball and aimed it, your defenders are slamming into the others.

You catch your teammate with his arms open. You imagined him being your dad in your backyard. With a large throw, the ball darts towards your teammate and he catches it smoothly before charging for the end of the field. You see him reach the end and the crowd in the bleachers cheer on. You couldn’t help but grin.

This was gonna be a good game.

Halftime was gone and you were slightly behind the other team. A couple touchdowns, you could make an easy win. A kick to the goal post could do you some good. You were almost close to exhaustion. You hear your coach call you guys in and the referees give you guys two minutes.

Running over to the coach. He began to explain a plan and you followed every single order. Once he broke the team, your dad hands you your water bottle. “You need to hydrate, sweetheart.”

You grin, lifting up your helmet a bit to pour water into your mouth. You gotten a lot of sips in and slid your helmet back down. The referees call you back in and your team positioned on the field.

You see that the team had slightly larger guys than the last ones. You needed to run pass them. You hear the shout and the ball comes into your hands. Your feet pick up and you took a sharp turn that causes your ankle to lock and you feel someone tackle you to the ground.

A large hit to the ground, your helmet bounces off the ground and you feel the player get off you. You breath in harshly and hear someone say, “Are you okay?” You roll onto your hands and knees, instantly feeling someone’s hands on you. “Hey, hey. Don’t stand up, yet. Take it easy. Honey, are you okay?” You hear your dad ask, you nod your head, not bothering to speak.

Your arm gets pulled up and Chris helps you onto your feet again. He leans over, “Hey? Look at me? Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. Can I just sit down for a second?” Your dad didn’t refuse or hesitate. He helps you over to the bench and gives your family a thumbs up to know you were okay. He cups your helmet, “Can I take this off? It’ll help you breath better.” You nod and he slips it off your head. Your coach calls in a replacement onto the field and you lowered your head.

You lift your head up, “Coach, I’m sorry, I-” The coach gently shook his head. “It’s okay, Evans. You did good. You rest.” You felt embarrassed, being a woman and falling on the field made everyone lose hope in you. Your dad puts his hand on your shoulder, “Hey. You did good halfway through. I’m proud of you.”

You smiled up at him and watched as the team struggled to push through. No one scored and it just kept going back and forth. The coach calls out the last break. You needed to jump back in. Taking your helmet, you stand up and run over to the team circle.

You lean in, “Coach. Put me back in.” Your coach stared at you in disbelief till Chris jumps up. “No, you need to rest-”

“Please, dad. I know I can do this. I’m okay, now.” Chris looks up to the coach who does as well. Silently the two nod and your coach looks over. “All right. Y/N’s back in position. Stay strong and remember the plans.” The team breaks and you slid on your helmet. Standing in position, you breathed in slowly. You felt the memories come flooding into your head.

“You got this,” You hear your dad’s voice.

The shout breaks your position as you dart for the ball and grab it. You turn to the side and see a player in front of you. You realize he’s going to dive. It felt like slow-motion once he began to dive toward you. Your legs lift up and you hop over him like nothing. The crowd screams as you run for the touchdown yard line.

Your team runs over and almost tackles you to the ground. They chant your name and your dad runs over. “Yes!” He shouts, too proud of a dad, he takes you off your feet and holds the back of your helmet, laughing uncontrollably. You laugh happily as he takes off your helmet and pulls your head to his chest.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” He says, you pull away and your team gives you a large hug. The team ended with a win and you were proud to take step back into the field. And your dad was happy to put your trophy on the fireplace.

Official Taglist:

@jtargaryen18 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @donutloverxo @axen-gers @captainchrisbaby @patzammit @bucksgoat @la-cey @void-hoechlin @lovepeacefood @stargazingfangirl18 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @star-spangled-beard-burn @nickysurfer28 @nbarnes @mcntsee @adriannajackson @chuckbass-love @sebbystanlover-vk @onetwo3000 @captainamerica-is-bae @cheeseburgersstuff @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @rororo06 @elliee1497 @navybrat817 @waywardodysseys @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @what-is-your-plan-today @princess-evans-addict

#chris evans x daughter #chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x daughter reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #patriots #football #chris evans imagines #optimistic-dinosaur-nacho #opti-dino-nacho

344 notes · View notes

pinencurls · 4 years ago

Text

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

304 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 4 years ago

Note

One of the kids and their first crush.

First Crush

A/N: Set in the same universe as this and this (I’m gonna make a masterlist soon I swear), Cal (18) finds himself in a weird situation and doesn’t know how to handle things. I introduced Elucien babies in this one, everyone else will come by later on and very slowly I’m gonna introduce every other child.

If you’re new, this is a next gen collection of one shots, for now only about Nessian kids specifically. In this one, Ezra is 22, Cal is 18 and even tho they don’t appear, Nora is 13, Celia is 12 and Andra is 10. Nate and Theo are 17.

Send prompts about whoever you’d like to read more about and also very slowly I’m gonna give yall every single one of those:)

Enjoy!

Word count: 3,432

Cal brought his hands to his hair, "Oh my god, what's wrong with me?"

Theo, leaning against the car next to him, chuckled, "In my opinion the correct question would be what isn't wrong with me- Ouch." the boy turned to his twin, "Why did you hit me?"

"Because you're being a dick," Nate replied, glaring at him, "Stop talking shit."

"Why did I agree to this?" asked Cal shocked, looking up from the road and shifting his gaze from one cousin to the other. Two pairs of brown eyes locked onto him and then, in a synchronized motion that never failed to make Cal cringe, the twins shrugged.

Theodore and Nathaniel Vanserra were two of the most handsome boys in all of VHS. They both had the natural grace of the Archeron sisters that all cousins in the family shared, but their father's beauty that they had acquired over the years was one that made it easy to hate them with just one look. It was humanly impossible that such beautiful people could exist.

"Because you like her and want to date her, maybe?" asked Nate sarcastically.

Theo threw him a look, "Who's being an asshole now?"

Nate huffed then turned back to Cal, "Listen to me," he took him by the shoulders, getting so close to his face that for a second he was afraid he was going to kiss him, "You've been drooling over Rania for months. Months, Cal. And she finally made the first move because you were too chicken to step up."

"Chicken?" laughed Theo beside them.

Nate closed his eyes taking a deep breath, deciding to ignore his brother, "She asked you out. You accepted. You're going on a date." he shook his head confused, leaning even more towards him, "What's wrong with that?"

Cal looked at him wide-eyed, imagining Rania's crystal eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of going to dinner with him, so different from the rust brown, almost red ones that were staring back at him. "Nothing, it all adds up," then he cleared his throat, "Shouldn't you be home by now?"

"What time is it?" asked Nate taking two steps back. Cal felt the air return to his lungs and he sagged against the door of his car. Well, his and Ezra's car.

Theo cursed checking the time on his phone, "Shit it's almost three."

Nate nearly broke his neck as he lunged to grab his backpack on the ground and then started running in the direction of their house, yelling a simple hello to Cal and for his brother to hurry up. Theo's eyes went wide, snorting with an amused grimace on his face.

Cal huffed out a laugh, "It's not three o'clock is it?"

Theo shook his head, with a lopsided smile too similar to his father's, "Not even close." then turned to his cousin and threw him a flying kiss, starting to walk after Nate. "Call me if you need any advice on what to wear."

Cal gave a thumbs up and then slipped into the car.

It didn't take him more than ten minutes before he arrived home, but once he parked his car next to his mom's, he sighed.

He needed to talk to his dad.

Cassian would certainly know how to handle this situation better than he was doing.

The front door burst open and a distraught Ezra, visibly in a hurry, opened the driver's door, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and pulling him out of the car.

"Ezra!" shrieked Cal with wide eyes, "What the fuck!"

"You're late." the eldest pointed out to him, then tossed him his backpack with a stern look, "Here."

"Sorry." Cal murmured, then pushed his hair out of his face, "I got stuck with Theo and Nate, I didn't notice the time."

Ezra stopped the frantic movements, looking at him worriedly all of a sudden, "Are you okay?"

Cal nodded, licking his lower lip, "Just Raina."

"Oh." murmured Ezra, "We can talk about her tonight when I get back if you want." he smiled at him, then seemed to remember that he was running late and Cal didn't have time to correct him and tell him that the problem was the exact opposite of what he thought that Ezra was already backing up.

The silence that greeted him in the house was unsettling.

"Hello?" he asked loudly enough for anyone to hear.

"In the kitchen!"

Cal smiled and kicked off his shoes before following the smell of lunch.

"Hi Mom."

Nesta was perched on one of the island stools as she munched on a cereal bar. "Hi dear." she looked up from her book to smile at her son, but turned serious, "What happened?"

Cal dropped his head back, huffing, "Am I a fucking open book?"

Nesta frowned, "No swearing."

"I don't see Andra here." he glanced around him opening his arms.

"I don't care, I don't want you to say them." and before he could retort, "And in this case you could have just as easily said I'm an open book without the need to shove fucking in it." she pointed out to him.

Cal nodded, knowing full well how pointless it was to engage in this conversation again. He pointed to the table set just for him, "You're not eating?" then arched an eyebrow, "Where is everyone?"

"I ate with Nora and Celia and then took them to practice. Andra is at school like she is every Wednesday." she got up too and sat down across from him at the table, closing her book and resting her chin on one hand, she asked, "So, what do you have?"

Cal took a bite, "Dad?" he asked with a full mouth, avoiding his mom's gaze.

"At work." then she huffed, "You failed a test?" guessed the woman.

Cal laughed, "Like that's even possible."

"Did you get in a fight with Theo and Nate?"

"I don't think that's possible either," he replied in a small voice.

"Cal," his mother's hand rested on his. He was forced to look at her and sighed, seeing the concern in Nesta's eyes, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. Evidently with not enough conviction because the woman in front of him bit her lip down thoughtfully.

"If you want I can call Dad and ask him to come home early," she offered, "If you want to talk to him, I mean," then continued, "You know he'd be here in three seconds."

Cal nodded again, knowing full well that his father would rush home even risking an accident if he knew one of his children was feeling down. Setting his fork down next to his plate he brought his hands to his face. He hated his mother when she did that.

He looked her straight in the eye as he told her so.

Nesta looked even more concerned, "I'm sorry," she told him, probably feeling guilty for pushing him too hard to talk, "if you want I'll leave."

"Nono," the boy replied promptly, then grimaced, closing his eyes. He grunted before muttering, "Raina asked me out."

He doubted his mother knew who he was talking about, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it was the girl he liked.

The room filled with an awkward silence.

"Ah." was Nesta's only response.

Cal resumed eating, his head down, "And I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never really liked anyone before," he said, "and Raina is...she's special."

He smiled, thinking of the billions of braids she so proudly wore every day in a different hairstyle.

"Did you say no?" asked Nesta. Cal felt her curiosity even without the need to look at her.

He shook his head, "I said yes," he confessed, "but I need dad to tell me how to act. I don't have a clue what to do. Where to take her, how to dress, whether I should text her first. All that shit there- sorry." he smiled mischievously when Nesta bounced him again and hoped he'd taken her mind off the real problem.

"And how come," she began, "I can't be the one helping you?"

Cal looked at her at that point, "Because you're not a people person." he pointed out, "Dad managed to win your heart, it won't be that hard for him to give me advice on how to win Raina's." he took a sip of water, "When I think about it, dad and Raina have a very similar personality. " he shrugged, "So he can tell me what he likes and I can do it for her." he nodded as if he had discovered the Holy Grail, but that sly grimace disappeared from his face when he saw his mother's expression.

She sighed, her eyebrows so high they almost touched her hairline, "Dear, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said in your entire life." she told him in amazement.

Cal opened his mouth wide, offended, "Mom-"

Nesta raised a hand to stop him, "Let me talk."

He nodded once.

"First, answer these simple questions," she began, "What were you going to do about it this afternoon?"

"Ask her if she was okay with Friday night to go out." he said without hesitation.

"Good." she smiled at him for half a second, quickly becoming serious again, "And where would you like to take her?"

Cal tilted his head to the side, not understanding where this was going, "Why are you-"

"Just answer."

"I was thinking of taking her to the diner, to Ben's," he replied, unsure of his choice, as a faint blush made its way across his cheeks.

"Perfect." she gave him the thumbs up, "And since it's a diner, you'll just need to wear simple jeans and a t-shirt, or am I wrong? Nothing too fancy or flamboyant."

The boy huffed, irritated that his mother was giving him all logical answers to his senseless and fake concerns. "Okay, and your point?" he asked, scratching his forehead.

Nesta smiled at that, "My point is that these aren't your real problems and you're scared of all kinds of other stuff."

"I really don't like talking to you about this stuff." he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. They both knew that wasn't entirely true. They both knew that if either of them were really uncomfortable, they wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise.

"Yeah I didn't either." scoffed his mother, "But I would have liked someone to tell me that it was normal for me to feel all those emotions the first time I met your father."

Cal frowned.

"You don't have a problem with setting up a fancy date," she told him, "I raised you teaching you what respect and kindness is and if I failed, then dad took care of it. Because both you and your brother are golden boys and you'll never have to worry about not being offering enough." Nesta looked away, "But while your brother can... handle?" she asked no one in particular, searching for the right term, "His emotions relatively well, you're like me." then she giggled and Cal knew they were navigating waters his mother didn't particularly like to touch, "And I'm a mess when figuring out how I feel."

Cal knew what she meant, so he nodded.

She was right.

Talking to the twins about what was really bothering him had never even been an option. The idea of having to tell them how much he actually liked Raina had been more terrifying than the emotions themselves. He knew they wouldn't understand and would wait until it was socially acceptable for him to tell Raina directly how he felt without scaring her off.

"How about you finish eating and then we'll go for a walk along the river?" his mom suggested, "Or do you have to study?"

Cal shook his head, smiling shyly at her, "I'll finish eating and we'll go." then he took to gorging himself.

Nesta chuckled as she went to get ready to go out.

***

"When Dad asked me out the second time, right after our first date, I said no," Nesta said, looking across the river to the other side, where a couple of older poeple were walking slowly arm in arm.

They had paced for a half hour, in which Cal had told her about how they had met in the coffee shop in front of the school almost four months earlier and how she had offered him hot chocolate. How they had spent a whole day talking about everything and nothing, and how they now had an ongoing obligation to meet at least once a week in the same cafeteria, even though they ate at the same table every day with all their other friends.

Nesta had asked to see a picture of her, and Cal had been surprised to find out that he wanted his mother to like Raina more than anything else at that moment. Luckily, Nesta had been speechless and commented on the girl's silvery eyes, blinking a couple of times before giving him the phone back and commenting with a simple, "She's beautiful."

Now, sitting on a bench along the bank of the Sidra, Nesta was telling him about the days when Cassian had had to struggle to make her his.

"How come?" he asked genuinely curious.

Nesta smiled, lowering her gaze to the wedding band around her ring finger, "Because I liked the first date too much."

Cal furrowed his brow, "Were you afraid the second one wouldn't measure up?"

"No," she murmured, casting him a glance, "I knew perfectly well it would be better than the first."

"So why did you say no?" the boy asked impatiently.

"I knew that the second one would be better than the first one and that the third one would be better than the second one and so on and I was already so overwhelmed with my feelings that I was afraid it might become too much." she explained, "Your father was the first one to get close after so many years of me having my bad friendships and relationships." she frowned.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to," he made a point of reminding her. He wanted to be helped and would have liked to know more about his parents' lives before them, but he didn't want his mother to feel compelled to share things with him that still bothered her.

Nesta squeezed his hand lovingly, "Don't worry, those things are in the past and I have nothing to be ashamed of." she smiled at him, "I was with someone else before your dad and that man kinda ruined my life. I thought I would never be able to trust anyone in the future again. That I would never again feel the love and affection I had felt for him." she huffed out a laugh. She brought both hands to her lap and Cal shoved them into his pocket. "Then your father came along and it was all so sudden and I fell in love right away, hard. Completely lost for a boy I barely knew. And it scared the hell out of me."

"Why?" Cal already knew the answer, it was what he felt every time he saw Raina walking down the halls of the school. Every time she bit into a piece of bread in the lunch room and then made a disgusted face at how awful the food tasted.

"Because I could only imagine how much it would hurt if it ended suddenly. If I felt everything so strong in the good, it would be just as strong in the bad, you know?" she turned to him, more serious than ever.

Cal just nodded.

"Your father was hurt by it," she confessed. She began to play with her wedding ring, "He was so hurt, god." she giggled, probably thinking about the night she had rejected him, "He stood in silence for minutes on the front porch of my house gasping, thinking about all the possible things he had done wrong during dinner and the aftermath and we looked at each other and looked at each other until he asked me why and I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't have understood. Or he would have thought I was crazy."

The boy chuckled as he stared out at the glistening water under Velaris' winter sun, imagining his parents as kids, dressed up for a date. "How come you finally agreed to it?" he asked, later specifying, "To go on a second date I mean."

Nesta seemed to ponder how to phrase it, "Because I loved him."

Cal gave her time to process the words. If it was even half as difficult for her as it was for him, he needed to let her speak for herself.

"Because I realized that such a strong emotion, even if it was sudden and all at once, could only be a good thing. That even if it ended badly, I would have the memory of those happy, carefree moments." she nodded thoughtlessly. "I realized that something like that had to be reciprocal. A connection with a person like I had never felt before, not even with Tomas - who I believed to be the love of my life for years."

"I'm glad he wasn't," Cal murmured, chuckling.

Nesta gave him a light shrug, "Me too." then continued. "I knew your father wouldn't give up on me as easily as I was giving up on him. So after the thousandth time he asked me why I couldn't go out with him, I agreed and every time, every damn time, my heart gave out a little more.

"And I got to a point where I had nothing left to give, because he had everything about me. And I was okay with that. I was risking losing myself in what could easily have been a summer fling, but I knew it was worth it.

"Thankfully, it wasn't. Thankfully I trusted my feelings and kept fighting for what I wanted and even though sometimes your dad and I hit bumps along the way, it's still worth it. Every day."

Cal was watching her carefully.

Nesta often told her children that she loved them. He had heard her say I love you to their father many times, but never, never had he heard her speak in that open way, that vulnerable. She must have realized it too, because she took a deep breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe until that moment. Then she turned to him and put a hand on his face. Cal leaned into that touch.

"I just want you to know that you're not alone. That I feel that way too, right away. And I can assure you that if Raina is the right person for you, then she'll understand that too. Maybe it won't be the same for her, maybe it will take her longer to get to where you think you are now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you the same way." her eyes grew watery. "And never, ever be afraid that you're giving too much. There's no such thing as too much when it comes to love. Not in these cases."

Cal nodded, not sure he would be able to speak if he tried, but he knew his mother could see the gratitude in his eyes.

He couldn't imagine how his father must have felt when Nesta had confessed his true feelings to him. Cal was sure that the love she reserved for her children was different from the love she reserved for her husband, but certainly not weaker, not in smaller amounts. Just different.

"I know it's scary dear, but trust me when I tell you that feeling emotions so hard will bring you the best memories you'll ever make," she finally whispered.

Cal cleared his throat, not quite sure whether to be calmer or more agitated than before, but he said anyway, "Thanks mom."

Nesta turned to the snow-capped mountains that were visible above the town, "No problem."

They stood watching the river sparkle for too many minutes, but when they got up, Cal hugged his mother so tightly that Nesta was stunned.

They were used to exchanging kisses and hugs in their family, but she felt this was different.

She wrapped her arms around her son, despite the fact that he was much taller than her, and they rocked each other as the boy tried to bring order to the mess that was his head.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be removed or added just send me an ask or dm me)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth @simping4bookboisngrls @anne-reads

#nessian fic #TSOU nessian fic #TSOU #the seven of us #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian children #acosf #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #ff #fan fic #fluff #family #nessian baby #nessian child

105 notes · View notes

janicho88 · 4 years ago

Text

Falling For You -Part 3

November

Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female!Reader,

Word Count-3546

Warning- Fluff. Mention of serial killers. Still burning slow.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a little backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. We should hit the one shot part around chapter 20, oops? This story is AU, and un beta’d. Thank you @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door. Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

Series Masterlist

Do you ever notice how quickly time goes once October hits? In a blink November is over and suddenly Christmas is here and then we are ringing in the new year. You aren’t even sure you remember much of the first two weeks of November this year. You did remember you had been out helping Dean a number of nights. Work was finally back under control , but you needed to get a list around to start on your Holiday baking for the first weekend of December, Thanksgiving was next week. It seemed like you couldn’t figure out which direction to go in.

Dean had gone to see a few houses and asked you to go with him for another opinion. Both of you fell in love with the sixth house. It was a two story single family home, you would have killed for the kitchen. So much counter space for baking or cooking. It only needed a few touch ups here or there, maybe some new paint in some of the rooms eventually, but it was move-in ready. The previous owners already moved out of town and took all their belongings with them. Dean had been working with a bank to be approved for a loan before finding the house, plus he had saved what he had when his house sold. The closing was done by Friday the end of the second week.

While Dean was busy finalizing paperwork on his house, you were at your desk on your lunch hour looking through pinterest for new cookie or bar ideas. A familiar voice sounded behind you.

“I’m back bitches!” Turning around you saw the fiery redhead who was in charge of IT for the company. Charlie used to work out of this office, but they had moved her to the new clinic that had opened an hour away for the last two months.

“Things are running smoothly over there, two weeks without any problems, I get to come back to you guys now.” She walked over to her familiar work area and tapped the Hermione figure sitting by her monitor and asked if she missed her. “So what have I missed here?” You and Monica filled her in, and introduced her to Anna when she came back. The rest of the day passing fairly quickly.

Making a quick dinner that night you received a phone call from your mom. Her older sister had fallen and hurt her hip. She wasn’t going to be able to travel down for Thanksgiving, so your parents were going up there. This way your mom could help her around the house and with the meal. Your cousins were a bit lazy, they weren’t going to do it. She asked if you wanted to go with them, and after thinking about it for a moment, told her not to worry about you. Your aunt's house wasn’t very big, and some other family was going up also. That was going to be too much close family togetherness for you.

Wiping down your counter you heard a tap at the door, slipping on shoes and grabbing your purse you headed out. Jess and Dean were out in the hall waiting for you, the two of you offered to help Dean clean tonight before things were moved in tomorrow. Sam was working a big case and stuck at work this evening. The house was in good shape, it just needed a good pre move in clean.

“So Dean,” Jess started talking when you got in the car. “Since you are going to have the most room, how about you host Thanksgiving next week?”

“What?” He was a bit caught off guard by that.

“Your parents are coming up, so are mine, that’s seven of us in our apartment trying to cook a big dinner, you have a huge new kitchen and a dining room.”

“One, do you really trust me to make Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I didn’t say you had to make it all, we’ll help, you just have the space to have it at.”

Sitting at a red light Dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh, “If we can have the house usable by Tuesday, fine.”

“Good, Sam also told your parents they were staying at your house.” Rolling his eyes Dean knew it was pointless to respond. Jess turned in her seat to see you in the back, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Y/N?”

“Usually we go to my grandparents, but my mom called tonight and my aunt got hurt so they are all going up to her house. I’m just going to hang out at home, watch the parade, and be lazy.”

“Apparently I’m hosting Thanksgiving, come join us.” Dean offered, glancing at you in the back.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be, Sam already did that when he has people staying at my house that I’m not even living in yet, without telling me.”

“Okay, if you are sure, thanks. Just let me know what I can bring.”

“Pie, lots of pie,”

Dean had already taken cleaning supplies over to the house and the three of you decided to divide and conquer. You took the kitchen and dining room, Jess and Dean split up the two upstairs bathrooms and the master bedroom and one of the guest rooms. Whoever finishes first would start in the living room. These rooms would be used for his parents' visit and Thanksgiving, the other rooms would be tackled if there was time. Walls, windows, doors all scrubbed down, floors vacuumed and mopped, kitchen cupboards all wiped out. It took you guys a few hours and everyone was beat when you headed back to the apartment building. Sam and Dean were renting a uhaul in the morning to get Dean’s stuff from storage, you made plans to ride over with Jess to help unpack.

Back in your apartment you looked to see what you could whip up to take with you for breakfast. Normal cinnamon rolls would take too long, and you didn’t have the energy, but cinnamon biscuits were doable. You made a double batch, and prepped the icing. Figuring you would warm them in the morning and top them then.

Dressed in a comfy old t-shirt and worn jeans sweatshirt sitting with the biscuits, you were ready when Jess came to get you. “Oh my, what is that smell?”

“I figured we would be working up an appetite today, so I brought breakfast rolls. Do you want one for the road?”

“Uh, yes please.” Both of you laughing, she grabbed one out of the container while waiting for the elevator.

“Yep, Dean’s right. Girl you can bake.”

The guys pulled up with the uhaul just as you were getting out of the car. “Ready to start,” she asked.

“Not really, you?”

“I wish I was back in bed.”

“What are you two laughing at?” Sam inquired leaning down to give Jess a quick kiss.

“Just wishful dreams,” she told him.

Dean unlocked the house while Sam opened the truck. They let you and Jess take some boxes, while they moved some of the furniture that came on this load. Thankfully Dean had somewhat labeled the boxes as he packed so you knew where to drop what. His labels gave you an idea on what was important to the man: kitchen crap, bathroom junk, living room stuff, bed things, other room bed things, you just didn’t know what was in each of those boxes, but clearly knew what was in the VINYLS, TOOLS, and MOVIES boxes.

Dean had kept most of the furniture from his old place, but did have a few new things coming. Such as a master bedroom set, and new couch and dining room table. Those were going to be delivered Tuesday. Jess told you he didn’t want things that reminded him of Lisa, so he sold anything that did when he moved.

Cas came over to help in the early afternoon, bring some pizzas as an apology for missing the morning work. The biscuits you made long gone. Things were coming along nicely, Dean wasn’t super picky on where things went right now. Dean gave you the job on organizing the kitchen, he said you would know best. His only request being the coffee items were close to each other and easy to get too. He would figure out where you put anything else later. Placing his old coffee maker next to the plug between the sink and refrigerator, the glasses and mugs in the cabinet next to the sink and and coffee and filters above the machine.

Jess was helping Sam set up the guest bedroom and washing the sheets for that room and Dean’s once his bed arrives. Cas and Dean ran the wires for his tv and speakers for his record player. Dean deemed those two things most important. Everything was out of storage and into the house Saturday evening, put away was another story. You offered to help on Sunday, but Dean said he wasn’t going to work on it then, taking one day of the weekend not to work and unwind a little. He still had a few things at Sam and Jess’ place to get packed up at some point.

Thanksgiving week was always a nice work week since you were only open 3 days. Monday and Tuesday evening you had helped at Dean’s and it was ready for Thanksgiving, his parents were arriving sometime Wednesday.

When you left his place Tuesday night you headed home alone. Dean was all moved in, he was out of the apartment across the hall. It made you kinda sad to think about. It’s going to be weird not running into him in the hall, or have him randomly come over when he was giving his brother some space.

You opted for staying home Wednesday night instead of hitting the bar with Charlie and her friends, and decided to get the pies made. You went with two traditional pumpkin, and one apple since Dean liked the last one so much. When you were at the store you also picked up the ingredients to make a strawberry pretzel jello.

Thursday morning you watched the parade in comfy pj’s on your couch with a glass of hot chocolate. Unlike Dean coffee wasn’t your thing. But with the chilly weather you liked something hot in the mornings. When it was warmer you would enjoy your weekend morning drinks on your balcony.

Dinner was supposed to be at two, but you headed over before noon to help with the preparations. You put on leggings and a long sweater, Jess had told you it was more about comfort than fashion today.

It was your turn to knock on Dean’s door for once, a pretty blonde woman answering the door. She had a big smile on her face that turned to surprise when she saw you.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Dean and Jess invited me, I came over early to help with dinner.”

“Hey Y/N!” Dean came up behind her with a big smile on his face. “Come on in.”

“Hi Dean, I came to help, brought pies, pumpkin, apple, and a jello”

“You don’t have to help,” he said while ushering you inside, “you did that enough with moving this week. Y/N this is my mom Mary, mom this is Y/N. She actually lives in the apartment across from Sam.”

“Nice to meet you dear. I’m sorry, I was expecting Sam at the door, I didn’t know anyone else was coming.”

Getting to the kitchen Dean opened up the pies and you saw him hide one of them in the cupboard. Shaking your head, you look around at the food out on the counters.

“What kind of jello is this?” Dean asked looking at the cake pan you set down.

“It’s a pretzel strawberry jello or some people call it a salad. I didn’t think you would be too fond of that term though.”

Dean looked at you before looking back down, “Pretzel jello? I see the jello and strawberries, and something solid under that but it doesn’t look like pretzels. Where’s the salad part? What are you trying to feed me sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head “There isn’t actual lettuce in it Dean, this time salad is referring to a side. The solid layer is cream cheese cool whip mix, the Pretzel is the baked crust. It’s a combination of salty and sweet. Just try a bite, I’m not trying to sneak anything past you. I promise it won't hurt you as much as Sam's veggie bacon.”

Dean's face grew serious, “I thought we agreed that we don't speak of that fraud, it's not bacon. I need actual meat.”

Laughing you pat his back, “I know, I'm sorry. Now you have your own kitchen to cook real bacon.”

“Yeah or I could come to yours and let you do the work.” He said with a smile your way

“You are always welcome at my place.”

“Now that we are done discussing the jello, what do you need me to do?”

“Y/N, seriously you don’t have to help.”

“I want to, I like cooking almost as much as baking.”

Dean moved over to the list of food Jess had made up the other day, “Turkey is stuffed and in the oven, potatoes are boiling, the corncake hasn’t been started yet, neither has the salad, rolls are just waiting to bake.”

“Well Sam wanted the salad so he can do that, I’ll get the corncake going and in the oven.”

Sam, Jess, and her parents arrived a short time later. The guys all ended up in the living room watching football and left you four ladies in the kitchen. Mary started to ask Dean where his mixer was, but he told her to talk to you since you organized the kitchen. While working on last minute touches Mary turned and looked at you.

“How long have you and Dean been dating?”

Jess started laughing while you stuttered out an answer, “Oh, uh no we, we aren’t, we’re just friends.”

“They are both in denial about having any feelings for each other.”

“Jess! There are no feelings to be in denial about, we’re just friends, that’s it.”

“I’ll let you know when they catch up with what the rest of us know, Mary.” You turned back to setting the table shaking your head at her.

Dinner was great, and the conversation was even better. Dean’s dad was a little intimidating at first, but grew on you as the meal progressed. Dean sat next to you and before he took a bite of his jello he picked up the bowl and looked it over and made you promise him he wouldn’t regret it. He took his time chewing, bobbing his head around while you awaited the final verdict.

“It’s actually pretty good.” You just gave him a little nod, holding back your laugh at his behavior before going back to your own food.

The guys migrated back to the television after a while, and the four of you cleaned up. Dean came in a few times, but you sent him back out. When the first game ended the men came back for dessert. Jess brought out pumpkin bread and apple crisp her and her mom made and Dean carried the pies over.

“Y/N made pumpkin pie,” Dean told the others.

Leaning over to whisper in his ear, “You keeping the apple for yourself?”

Giving you a little grin he nodded, “You know it sweetheart.” Laughing you didn’t notice Mary watching your exchange across the table.

Looking through the ads with Jess you made plans to go out with her and her mom the next morning. Mary was watching the two of you, and you asked if she wanted to join. Jess quickly looked up and told Mary how much fun it would be if the four of you went together.

Sam tried to talk everyone into playing a new game he picked up. When he finally got everyone, even Dean to agree to join he went out to the car to retrieve it. Coming back in empty handed swearing he put it in the car, but unable to find it. He went looking through some of Dean’s things for the deck of cards he swore he didn’t have striking out again. Dean told him if he wanted to play games he needed to host Thanksgiving and went back to watching the football game. Jess was sitting beside you unusually quiet the whole time.

“Did you know he forgot the game?” You whispered to her.

“He didn’t forget it, who do you think took it out of the car?” Quickly covering your laugh with a cough she continued. “It was a trivia game about serial killers that used a courtroom type setup. The box said something about cross examining, objecting and redirecting. It seriously wasn’t happening, I get enough lawyer talk at home.”

At five am the next morning you decided Jess had too much energy. She had you leaving the apartment building by 3:30, then picked up Mary before hitting the mall. You drove the 40 minutes to Ann Arbor because Jess wanted to go to the bigger mall. Luckily the temperature was in the high 30’s this morning and you didn’t have to wait outside long. There are years you have stood outside in the snow waiting to get in a store.

You had a few things on your list, but no clue for some people. You weren't great at coming up with gifts, especially at this hour. You walked past one store front before stopping abruptly, and Jess walked into your back.

“Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I’m going to run in here real quick, I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.” The display in the window made you think of Dean and you went into get him a house warming present.

Stopping in the food court for a break later, Mary had a question for you, “Call me crazy, but didn’t you say something about apple pie yesterday when you arrived?”

You started laughing, “ I did, Dean apparently hid it when he took it to the kitchen. He had some last time I made one and decided he didn’t want to share this one.”

Mary was talking to you more about Dean. “He seems so much happier now than when he left. He was in a dark place for a while, that girl hurt him bad. I ran into her in town, and she had the nerve to talk to me like everything was fine. I gave her a piece of my mind and John had to pull me away.” She paused for a minute before continuing, “Dean has mentioned hanging out with a new friend a number of times I’ve talked to him. I think that person has made a big difference in his happiness, and I hope they stick around for a long time.”

You weren’t really sure what to say, you gave her a little smile, and told her Dean was an amazing guy who didn’t deserve to be treated like he had been.

After running errands on Saturday you stopped over at Dean’s. He was surprised to see you at the door and invited you into the living room where he was talking with his parents.

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to drop something off.”

“You’re fine sweetie, you aren’t interrupting anything. We were just chit chatting, but we should actually start to get some of our things around. We fly out tomorrow morning. John, we should go pick up the room, and pack what we don’t need tonight.”

“I did that earlier.’

“Well you should double check it, just in case. You two talk, we’ll be back later.” Pushing John out of the room they headed upstairs.

“I didn’t mean to chase them away, I just wanted to drop off your house warming gift.”

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to get me anything. Your help was a huge present,” Dean told you, taking the wrapped box out of your hands.

“I wanted to, just open it.”

“Oh Sweetheart, she is a beauty.” You had gotten him a new Keurig coffee maker, this one could make a whole pot, or a single pod. He mentioned he had been fighting with his old one, and you knew how important coffee was to him, especially in the morning.

“This way, you can make yourself a single cup if you just can’t wait for the whole pot to finish, or if you want one later.”

“This is great, thanks Y/N. You did well, especially for a non-coffee drinker,” he finished with a teasing grin.

“I should get going, let you enjoy your last night with your parents.”

“You don’t have to, Sam and Jess should be over soon, her parents left today.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to interfere with family time. Tell your parents it was nice meeting them, I hope they have a safe trip back. I’ll see you around Dean.”

Part 4

Thank you for reading!

Tags @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy @abuavnee @hearteyes-j2 @vicmc624 @440mxs-wife @wonder-cole @maralisa124

#FalingForYou #Deanx FemaleReader #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural

113 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 4 years ago

Text

spideypoolalways

Does Regis ever ask how Titus has papers for the boys? Whats Cor or Clarus' PoV of this? What are some things (fluff or humor) that the boys get up to? Because I can see them getting adopted into the Ulric Clan because of shenanigans and Nyx going 'Yes, these are my people' since LCs just remind me of Ulrics with magic. And how do the Galatians take to the nephew of the Nif Chancellor and clone of the Crown Prince? Since I'm imagining that Titus told some of them and the

spideypoolalways

rest are guessing anyway. And does everyone assume that Noctis and Nox's magics resonated since they're kinda sorta close to each other/are the same person? How does Regis take the news that the only reason that Noctis got healed is because Nox pretty much felt everything Noctis did? /Both/ of his sons were basically attacked by a daemon and he only knew about one of them at the time and didn't do anything to calm or reassure Nox? (Clarus: Only because you didn't know

spideypoolalways

About him, Regis. Regis: Thats no excuse, Clarus.) Does Iris get to be a Shield or did Nox latch onto Axis or one of his kids? Does Acastus find Prompting and drop him off with Noct/Cor? Does Nox hang out with Noct, Ignis, Gladiolus and Prom all the time or does the memories act up enough to make him feel weird about it? How does Regis take his brother and son's Sick Days? What about Dissidia? The 3 youngest Royals getting snatched and the group watching on Crystal

spideypoolalways

Vision? Dad Titus/Regis freaking out over their kids having been summoned to a death match? And how exactly does Titus see the boys? Sons, brothers, cousins? Oooh, more Trauma. Noct, Nox and Acastus w/others playing and end up in the Crystal room. Cue the boys lighting up, maybe passing out because the magic hits their young system really hard (its why Royals aren't supposed to be Presented until 18) and everyone freaks out, and news makes it to Regis and Titus that they

spideypoolalways

Are in the infirmary and the gist of what happened via panicked guards and rush there immediately and are jumped by panicked kids talking and crying about what happened. I didn't realize I had so many questions. But now I need to know. 👀👀 Please!🙏

spideypoolalways

Oh! Just remembered a little more! Does anyone pick up on the people/places that he shouldn't know? Do they assume that Nox got some of it from Noct, like with the Marelith? Or are they assuming LC/ Oracle DNA mix?

Me: Yes, Regis asks about the papers and Titus doesn’t OUTRIGHT admit he did an illegal but he does grudgingly explain that he needed papers in case the NIfs came looking and he ... knows ... a few people who can help ... “recreate” papers for refugees who lost theirs in whatever fire or tragedy drove them from their homes.

Regis mulls over that for ten long seconds then blatantly pretends he never heard it in the first place. Those “people” likely saved the life of his son and half-brother, he can let it slide this once.

I need Nyx Ulric to adopt these two now JUST so Nyx can tease that he’s related to Captain (then later when he learns that they’re Lucis Caelums he can quietly die in a corner because OH NO HE’S RELATED TO THE KING). Not sure how or when Nyx adopts them, but he absolutely does.

It probably happens when he's just a wee bit sloshed. Not enough to be incoherent or insincere, but enough that he doesn’t feel any fear offering to adopt the pair while babysitting them because Captain had to work late and Nyx is off the combat roster until his ankle heals. Once he’s sober he is a Panic™, but Captain takes it surprisingly well and Nox loves his new braid. Acastus just looks Amused™.

Lib slaps Nyx over the head because IDIOT THINK THIS STUFF THROUGH then gives him another drink because TWO MORE ULRICS. It’s a good thing Nyx is an Ulric Keeper in this AU, because he can teach them most of the Ulric Clan stories and dances and make them proper Ulrics.

Acastus loves introducing himself as Acastus Ulric Drautos, both because it’s fancy like “Lucis Caelum” is and also because it made both Titus and Nyx spit their coffee the first time they hear it.

The Galahdians ... have mixed feelings at first. But the predominant one is that it doesn’t matter that this kid is clearly related to the Chancellor (at first they all think the Chancellor bedded Captain’s Aunt, since they don’t know about the LC blood, and that’s why he looks like Ardyn) because Captain has clearly staked a claim on him. Galahd (in my HCs) is a Very Adoption Heavy culture and big on judging people by their current family rather than any previous blood ties, so ... mostly the Chancellor thing gets intensely ignored. Acastus isn’t an Izunia, he’s a Drautos (and then later an Ulric). So they will treat him as such.

But in private there is some debate on exactly what happened, for the Chancellor to vanish around the time his ... relation (son? They mostly assume son), shows up in Drautos’s care.

No few number of them think Titus stumbled on Ardyn with the two kids and killed the Chancellor to save them.

For Nox ... the Lucis Caelum blood is basically impossible to hide. This boy LOOKS like a literal carbon copy of the Prince but younger and he’s young so his control over his magic is ... not. Not that good. Especially not when there’s so mUCH of it.

All of Galahd listened to the Glaive who was on babysitting duty when Nox had a rare tantrum and skewered the wall with ghostly blades and all privately, immediately agree to Never Tell Anyone. Ever.

Well. To be fair, they do debate whether they have a duty to tell Regis, but again the Adoption Culture comes into play and they decide it’s up to Titus to spill that secret. A few Glaives do ask Titus about it (Titus nearly has a heart attack because SINCE WHEN DID THEY KNOW) and when they ask if they know who the mother was, Titus looks very grim and very, very quiet for a long time, then admits:

There is no mother. There never was.

They stare at him in confusion until Acastus, lurking nearby with too-sharp eyes, gives a smile that could cut and says brittlely that “amazing things that can be done with science these days you know. Truly amazing. Why, get a blood sample and a tank of the right solutions and you could probably grow anything you wanted”.

The Glaives are Horrified™. So is the rest of Little Galahd when it gets around and then is made a Clan Secret by all the Clans unanimously. The secret never leaves the borders of their little slum.

Also yes, people assume that Noctis’s and Nox’s magic resonated because Nox is a clone and it freaks them out.

Regis is Such A Guilt when he finds out how Acastus knew about Noctis’s injury. No it doesn’t matter that he DIDN’T KNOW NOX EXISTED. One of his son’s (his FIVE YEAR OLD son) was suffering. Was screaming in agony and terror and Regis didn’t do a THING about it and no amount of logic can make that better.

Nox latches onto Axis’s triplets in this AU so while Iris will be best friends with him, his Shield, Hand, and Sword are actually all made up of Axis’s three kids. Axis is a BIT of an internal Scream when Nox is at the age people start making noises about him building a Retinue and taking Iris as his Shield and Nox goes, “NO. I have a Shield already! A Hand and Sword too!” And stuff spirals out to reveal Axis as Clarus’s kid (Clarus takes it much better than Axis thought he would, tho Axis didn’t expect to see Lord Amicitia go deathly pale and sit down hard in the nearest chair).

Honestly Iris might be the future love interest in this AU you never know. It would be hilarious if nothing else.

Bold of you to assume Acastus didn’t find Prompto early and bring him home to NOX because “Look Beloved Nibling I Found You A Friend!”. Prompto is a confusion because Nox is like- 4 at the time. But Prompto likes babysitting and playing with Nox and hearing Acastus’s stories and Titus just kinda- sighs his way through the playdates until he realizes that Prompto has been staying in his house for about two weeks with no sign of the parents.

Titus, after much snooping later, sitting at the kitchen table of Grandma Ostium quietly pulling his hair out: HOW DO YOU ADOPT A THIRD CHILD. DOES IT COUNT AS KIDNAPPING IF THEY COME OVER AND STAY WITH YOU FOREVER AND THE LEGAL PARENTS NEVER NOTICE. ACASTUS WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME.

Acastus: I regret nothing. Do you want me to fake Prompto’s death? I’m sure there’s enough Prompto’s out there that nobody will notice if you gain a nephew called Prompto Drautos.

Titus, holding his face in his hands while Grandma Ostium laughs at him in the corner: NO, ACASTUS. DO NOT FAKE THE DEATH OF THE CHILD. How do you even know how to do that? Nevermind I don’t want to know.

Roughly a year later when Everything Gets Revealed, Titus and Cor: *intense staring contest over Smol Blond Child*

Cor: You don’t know where he-

Titus, growling like a cranky Behemoth that might very well bite off someone’s head: He’s a Niflheim created clone. I know.

Cor: ....

Titus: He's been living in my house for a year. I’ve seen the barcode. It’s not like I wasn’t raising one already.

Cor: His legal parents-

Titus: Is me. The Argentums were emotionally neglectful and didn’t even notice when he hadn’t come home for a week and a half.

Cor: *guilty angry silence*

Titus: ...Kid could use an uncle. If you want to man up and be part of his life.

(hgfhg this is post is getting long Imma try to speed through the last questions a bit)

Yes, Nox hangs out with the Chocobros when he can because he adores them (especially Brother Prompto and Team Mom Iggy) but he also has his own friend group in the Little Galahd community so it doesn’t strike anyone as odd really. Nox is a naturally loving child for all he’s shy and Iggy and Gladio are Noctis’s friends and Prompto is his adopted brother (and later Noctis’s best friend).

Regis does Not take the Sick Days well. It makes him alarmed and angry because Lucis Caelums aren’t supposed to get sick days from their own magic and it speaks of BAD THINGS that both of the presumably experimented on and tortured LCs have them.

I’m going to have to come back to Dissidia another time (someone remind me) because this post is too long to ramble here but it would be- it would be Great. Honestly. It would either be the 3 littlest, just Acastus, or just Acastus and REGIS for some brotherly bonding and any of them would be Great and Chaotic. Crystal-o-vision absolutely happens.

The Crystal Room is under 24 hour guard so I don’t think the kids could wander in by accident, plus Acastus would actively avoid the area because of his Trauma.

Now Acastus being presented when he turns 18 on the other hand... >:))))))

Short Version: Much shouting, much alarm, much angst from Regis and Titus and everyone and also the first Sick Day Acastus has had since he turned 17 and by far one of the worst he’s ever had in his (second) life.

I might to a longer version later but not right now.

For Nox’s oddities and odd knowledge they kind of assume both? At first they think it’s just him resonating with Noctis so deeply that there’s a transfer (cue angst from Regis because what is going to happen to Nox when Noctis fulfills his destiny as Chosen King???) but then when Nox starts knowing stuff Noctis doesn’t/can’t know, they start to wonder if the scientists ... Tampered with his DNA. If they got their hands on Noctis’s, which should have been impossible, then it’s not all that out there they got their hands on Oracle DNA.

Sylva is ... very alarmed and very confused when Regis secretly contacts her on a secure encrypted line to ask if there were any ... symptoms to look for in an Oracle child. Because- yes there were but WHY DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?

Regis: they wouldn’t happen to be *lists very specific things*

Sylva: ....Have you seen any Messengers nearby lately.

Regis: Carbuncle, a black puppy that disappears into thin air, and a bird woman who can summon wind storms. She calls herself Garuda.

Sylva, having a minor crisis behind her Queenly Facade: I am Very Sure I only have two children so please explain this. Right Now.

Regis: Well............. NiflheimclonedmysonandIthinkmixeditwiththednaofyouoryourdaughterandhehasseerpowersandImayormaynotbepanickingrightnowpleasehelpme.

Sylva, slowly running that over in her mind and figuring out what Regis just said:...

W H A T.

XD Honestly Niflheim might invade Tenebrae only to find the royal family gone because Sylva coincidentally packed her backs and took her and her children on a secret trip to Lucis to have a look at Nox, then since they’re there when Niflheim invades and a spy gets word on what just happened Sylva and Co just- stay there. Oracle Mom Death averted.

Also they absolutely think that it’s Luna’s DNA they used to make Nox because of how instantly Nox gloms onto Luna like a limpet- JUST like he did with Noctis and Regis, and how Luna gets this dazed look in her eyes as their magic tangles and she whispers, “I ... I know you. I know you, don’t I Little Prince? I met you in a dream.” Luna starts crying softly as she pets Nox’s hair and when Sylva asks in alarm why she’s crying, Luna blinks and whispers, “Because he was crying in the dream, and I couldn’t comfort him.”

Acastus lurks in the shadows, watching it all with ... very mixed feelings.

Oracles. He could have gone his entire second life without meeting anymore Oracles. Aera she looks so much like you is that what our daughter would have looked like and oh astrals I KILLED her. I killed the girl with your eyes and your smile and laughed about it later.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Sweet Sixteen verse #Nox verse #long post

142 notes · View notes

seasonofthewicth · 4 years ago

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 1

A Throne of Glass x New Girl fanfic. Rowaelin. No warnings.

masterlist

AN: This first chapter is heavily inspired by the first episode of New Girl but this fic will diverge from the show in the future!

-----

Aelin looked up from her phone screen to the large brick building in front of her. Squinting in the sunlight, she took in the old warehouse with its rustic, evenly spaced square windows.

She looked back down to her phone, her text conversation with her cousin Aedion left open. Loft 4D, his message read. She tried the entrance to the building, but the rusty door wouldn’t budge.

Sighing, she tapped call on Aedion’s contact.

“Hello?” His voice came through the tinny speakers of her phone.

“Hey Aedion, it’s Aelin. I think I’m outside.” She peered through the glass of the door, looking for any sign of the golden haired man.

“Oh, right, one second,” The phone clicked as the call ended. She pulled her phone away from her ear, staring at it puzzledly.

“Aelin!”

As she reopened her phone to make the call again the shout rang out from above and she squinted back up at the building to a now open window a few floors up. Aedion peered out of the window waving enthusiastically at her.

“We’ll buzz you up now, fourth floor.”

She raised a thumb towards him and stepped inside when she heard the click of the door.

She hadn’t seen Aedion in a few months, the last time being at a family event hosted by one of the endless Ashryver relatives, but they were friendly enough for cousins. She hadn’t expected his message the day before, offering her the spare room in his loft, but she supposed her mother must have let slip the situation Aelin was in and Aedion was generous enough to extend the offer.

The situation Aelin was in was the result of her cheating, now ex-boyfriend Arobynn. He had been away travelling for a few months and Aelin had prepared for his return by slipping into something silky and small and setting herself up in their house to surprise him.

She hadn’t prepared for the short, curvy woman he had returned with.

Not thirty minutes later Aelin had been in a cab, cursing Arobynn to hell. Most of her belongings were shoved in two duffel bags on the seat next to her as she made her way to her best friend Lysandra’s apartment, ultimately homeless.

As the elevator pulled to the fourth floor, Aelin took in her reflection of the elevator door. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, then untucked it again. It was only Aedion and his roommates, and she just needed a room.

She’d known a couple of Aedion’s roommates from previous birthday events of his own, but not greatly. She scowled briefly at the thought of Lorcan, the grumpy, giant of a man, who her previous interactions with had all ended with snarled insults, but it was harmless. At least to her, she couldn’t begin to understand what went through the raven-haired man’s mind.

She stepped out of the elevator to the hallway just as the door to loft 4D was pulled open. The first thing she spotted were the swirling lines of an elegant tattoo, creeping up the arm holding the door handle.

Rowan Whitethorn, Aedion’s college roommate who she had met maybe once or twice, held the door open, smiling at her slightly. Her eyes tracked up his muscular arms to the broad planes of his chest and shoulders stretching the plaid shirt he wore tightly. His tanned skin peeked out from the collar of the shirt setting off his silver hair nicely. She swallowed before opened her mouth.

“Hey,” She started. “Thanks for having me.”

“Not a problem,” His voice was low and gravelly, but he cleared his throat as he lifted his arm, stretching behind himself into the loft beyond. “Come in, the others are in the living room.”

She smiled and ducked past him through the doorway into the short hallway of the apartment. She heard Rowan shut the door but was spotted by Aedion who grinned as he bounded over from the open living area, a mug of coffee gripped tightly in his hand.

“Aelin! Glad you’re here, how you doing?” He swept her into a tight hug but drew back as he seemed to realise his mistake. His face twisted awkwardly as he leaned back. “Apart from, you know…” He trailed off releasing her fully.

“Don’t,” She groaned but laughed it off shaking her head and turned to smile at the others in the room.

Lorcan was sat on the end of the brown leather couch, his dark hair hanging over his shoulders, arms crossed, and legs stretched out in front of him. He offered her a brief nod as Aedion reintroduced them.

“Lorcan, you know, and of course Rowan.”

The two men acknowledged their introductions, but her attention was drawn to the only male she hadn’t already met.

In the space next to Lorcan, a blonde man with golden skin dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose t-shirt reclined into the sofa, both arms draped along the back. He offered her a wide smile and a hand to shake in greeting.

“I don’t think you’ve met Fenrys.” Aedion smiled widely, taking his seat next to the new introduction, followed by Rowan.

“Great to meet you,” Fenrys offered taking her hand in his own.

She shook Fenrys’ hand with a smile and crossed the room to the remaining seat, a single chair facing the couch. She smoothed her skirt down as she sat, readying herself for the inquisition.

-----

When Vaughan moved out of the loft to move cross-country with his girlfriend, Rowan assumed they would use the spare room as maybe a home office for Aedion, or a work-out space for Fenrys. His recent obsession with training them all to practice his coaching for his job at the nearby high school wasn’t going down well so far in the oddly shaped space remaining in the living area. But, Rowan hadn’t objected when Aedion asked them if he could offer it to his cousin who was in need of a room.

Rowan had been friends with Aedion since their first year of college and had lived with him for most of the eight years since then. Their friendship was easy, despite a rocky start, since the collision of Aedion’s bubbly personality and Rowan’s quiet demeanour had initially resulted in a stiff acquaintanceship until an incident in their freshman year had led Rowan to view the other male as more of a brother. Not that he would ever admit it.

The first time he had met Aedion’s cousin, Aelin, he was a shy, nineteen-year-old and Aedion had introduced them at his own nineteenth birthday party thrown at his parents’ home in Terrasen. He remembered stammering his hello to eighteen-year-old Aelin, stunned by her bright blue eyes and golden hair that matched Aedion’s.

He hadn’t spoken much to her that first time, he’d been nervous and intimidated by the confident, beautiful young woman, but he had met her a few more times since and they had been cordial each time in their brief exchanges.

He didn’t mind a new roommate, especially when it would mean his own rent wouldn’t increase. Not that he would struggle to cover the increase, with the extra shifts he had been picking up at the bar since the break-up with Lyria six months ago.

Lyria. His on-again-off-again girlfriend of three years. They had finally called it off-again for good recently and he considered himself to be doing well in not texting her again for the first time. This break-up felt different to the previous ones.

As he took his seat next to Aedion he observed the girl sitting opposite them all. She had definitely matured in the years since he had last seen her, more a woman than a girl now. Her golden hair fell in soft waves to her middle, and her body had settled into its gentle curves from the slimness of her teens when they had first met. The loose dress she wore fit the muggy Adarlan summer air, as well as bringing out the gold ring in her blue eyes.

“So,” Aedion began, “We know you need a room. Do you have any, uh, questions for us?”

Rowan smoothed his hands down his jeans, waiting for the list of questions he was sure Aelin would have.

“Um,” She started, unsure, “The bathroom. Is there only one? What’s the deal on that?”

Rowan heard Lorcan snort and felt the shaking of Fenrys’ laugh beside him. The bathroom rota, devised by Aedion, sick of being late for work when one of the others took too long, had been a point of contention in the loft since its introduction a year ago. It was mostly followed now, with only minor complaints.

They each had twenty minutes allocated from six-thirty in the morning, but Rowan’s were often up for grabs. He didn’t need them that early when most days he got back from the bar past midnight and didn’t wake up until the others had all left for work.

He knew Aelin was a teacher, like Fenrys, so maybe she could take his allocation. It seemed Aedion was on the same wavelength.

“There’s a schedule,” He said with an almost imperceptible level of embarrassment, but Aelin seemed to hear it too as the corner of her mouth drew up in a teasing smile. Rowan didn’t let himself stare too intensely at her mouth.

“Okay great,” She drawled mockingly. “I’m used to the rush getting ready for work from living with Arobynn.” She looked down at that but waved a hand as if she could beat the thought away.

“Aww Ae,” Aedion said. “Don’t be sad over that asshole. You can just get drunk and forget about him, it’s what Rowan’s been doing over Lyria.”

Rowan’s head shot up at that, glaring at Aedion who was barely even trying to hide his grin.

He sighed, it wasn’t that he had been drinking to get over Lyria, he just worked in a bar. Where there was alcohol that he could drink and at the same time he has been getting over Lyria. Two completely separate things.

Aelin seemed to look at him in understanding and then shrugged.

“I’m down for that,” she said. “It will make a change from crying over Dirty Dancing.”

All four of them groaned at that.

“There won’t be any of that in this living room.” Lorcan stated, in a tone that Rowan wouldn’t even try and debate with. Lorcan probably wouldn’t fight over Dirty Dancing but he couldn’t be sure.

“Dirty Dancing is a sure fire way to get over a break-up,” Aelin said defensively.

Rowan laughed shaking his head at the dynamics already building for the loft, this would surely be fun.

-----

Aelin knew she didn’t have to defend herself to Lorcan, especially not over a film that she was confident in her enjoyment of, but she couldn’t resist winding him up.

She continued. “I need the boost especially considering now basically all of my friends are models.”

Years of being friends with Lysandra had almost numbed Aelin to her beauty, her flowing dark hair and piercing eyes captivated many, not to mention her sizeable breasts. It was what Aelin supposed, made her so successful in her career. Though she knew her best friend was attractive it didn’t normally make her feel insecure but the recent break-up had been a knock to her confidence, but she knew it wouldn’t last long.

Fenrys coughed, leaning forwards, suddenly very interested. “All of your friends are models?”

Aelin nodded and watched Fenrys. His fingertips formed a triangle as his elbows rested on his knees.

“Excuse us, I need to have a word with my boys.” He gestured for the others to follow him to the kitchen.

Rowan and Aedion shifted. Rowan dug Fenrys lightly in the side, narrowing his eyes, but Fenrys just wiggled his eyebrows at Rowan in return.

“My boys.” Lorcan muttered “That is not a thing.” But uncrossed his arms and stood to lead the way to the kitchen.

Aelin couldn’t hear what followed, but it seemed to involve some pleading from Fenrys with Rowan and Lorcan looking varying degrees of uncomfortable. She definitely caught Fenrys mouth the word models, as his arms jerked out, hands splayed wide, but she looked away and took in the rest of the loft.

The open plan living room was surprisingly homely for a group of men in their mid-twenties, with a worn-looking brown-leather sofa with a number of patterned pillows and throws draped along. The wooden dining table behind looked worn but sturdy, with a few odd items left haphazardly on the top.

It was also surprisingly clean. She supposed that’s probably Aedion’s influence, not that the others were slobs, but Aedion had always been a meticulous cleaner, and hideously organised.

After some more hushed whispers the men turned and slotted back into the living room. Each took up the spot they had occupied before.

“We,” Rowan waved a hand between the members of the group “just have a few questions we need to ask. Logistics.” He directed a pointed look in Fenrys’ direction.

“You don’t have pets do you?” Lorcan asked.

“Nope.” She shook her head.

“You don’t keep weird hours like Rowan do you?” Fenrys chimed in with a scowl at Rowan who raised his hands.

“No,” She replied with a laugh, “The youth of Adarlan test my patience regularly enough for me not to risk going to work without enough sleep.”

They all nodded along.

“And you can move in right away?”

“Yes, as soon as possible. I don’t think Lysandra’s roommate likes me.”

Manon Blackbeak had lived with Lysandra for years, and had always seemed the quiet type to Aelin, seeming to keep to herself. She was stunningly beautiful, as all of Lysandra’s model friends were, but her personality didn’t seem to match. Moving in with them, Aelin had seen a new side to the golden-eyed woman. A side that was particularly unhappy that Aelin and most of her belongings were covering the small space of Lysandra and Manon’s living room. It was why she needed a new place. Fast.

“Okay, great.” Aedion said, smiling at her “We’d love for you to move in as soon as you’re ready.”

She couldn’t hold back her own grin, relieved at how easy it had been with this group of males.

Hello, Loft 4D.

-----

This is the first fanfic I’ve posted for Throne of Glass! I hope you enjoy I’m very excited for this!

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aedion ashryver #lysandra #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #manon blackbeak #aelin x rowan #aedion x lysandra #rowaelin fic #agkol #a groovy kind of love

184 notes · View notes

amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

Text

My Adoring Fan Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Before he knew it, a week had passed. It was the start of a new school term. As Aurelius rolled out of bed, he shut off the alarm so it wouldn’t go off at its normal time. He didn’t sleep well the night before, not because he was excited to return to his studies but more like he was debating if he should really betray his parents’ trust when it came to meeting with this girl who’d sent him the letter. If he was being honest, the half demon was hoping that the letter was forged.

Ever since he’d met her that night, Aurelius often found his thoughts wandering back to her. He wasn’t lying when he told his sister that he thought she was pretty. No one had ever had this effect on the sixteen-year-old before so why was she so different?

“I don’t have time to think on this any longer.” He sighed. “Maybe some tea will take my mind off things?” The half-demon makes his way out to the kitchen and is only slightly surprised to see his mother in the kitchen already making herself some tea. He doesn’t know why, but he still figured she’d be asleep at four a.m. like a normal person.

“Aurelius, good morning. Why’re you up so early?” Arella asks as she sets the kettle on the stove. “You should go back to sleep for a bit.”

“No, I’m good, Mum. I can’t really sleep all that well anyway. Can I have some tea?”

“Sure. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, I guess that couldn’t hurt...” He lays his arms on the counter as he’s leaning against it, chin resting on top of his arms. “Or maybe this is something I should talk to Dad about? I don’t know...”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was one of those things...”

“No, no, no,” He waves his hands about as a blush covers his cheeks, reaching down to his neck and up to his ears, “It’s not about that kind of thing. More like... relationship advice? Girls in general? I don’t know.” Arella only laughed softly as her son let out a groan. “Please don’t laugh, Mum.”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” Arella sighed as she pulled the kettle off the stove and got two cups down for them, “I wasn’t laughing at you, more like the misunderstanding. If you feel more comfortable talking to Dad about this then that’s fine, but you know you can talk to me about relationships or girls too as well, right? I’ve had more than my fair share of relationships with women as well so I think I can provide some helpful insight too.”

“Yeah... It’s about that girl I met the other day. You know, the one who I can’t be sure sent me that letter?”

“Yes. She hasn’t tried to contact you again, has she?”

“No, but it’s just.... I can’t stop thinking about that little bit of time we interacted. I’ve never really given much thought to anyone I’ve ever met before but she still sticks in my mind for some reason. Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, not at all. It’s perfectly normal to have someone on your mind at this age.”

“So... there was something wrong with me before then?”

“No, that’s not true either. You’re perfectly normal, Son. Some people just aren’t interested in things like that and that’s okay too. What worries me is who this girl is. You don’t know all that much about her and the fact that she may have sent you that letter doesn’t bode very well. It makes me worried for you.”

“If we have classes together at RAD, I’ll have to talk to her since she’ll likely take a seat next to me at some point and I have a reputation to uphold- well more like I don’t want to be rude. And I kind of want to talk to her too. If she was a fan, she pretended not to be and it makes me wonder if she was being considerate since I nearly trampled her trying to get away from ‘Zalea. She was... normal. I’ve never gotten that from someone outside of our family.”

“Well,” Arella slid the teacup toward Aurelius. “I can’t stop you from talking to this girl. You seem rather dead set on it too. But please, for the love of your grandfather, don’t go off with her alone.

“’for the love of my grandfather,’ why do you guys always say that? It’s not just you and dad but my uncles too. What’s with that? I’ve always thought it was a weird saying. And Max says something similar. Are they related?”

“Yeah, they are. You see, your Father and Uncles- save for Uncle Satan- were once angels a long, long time ago. All angels are “created” by God so technically he would be considered your grandfather as everyone in our family still refers to him as ‘Father’.”

Aurelius nods, “Oh, Alright. I always just thought Dad had always been a demon... but wait don’t you have distant heritage from the Celestial Realm too? That’s where you and I get our magic from, right?”

“It’s… messy. Technically, the angel I’m descended from was reincarnated into a human and Angels aren’t actually related by blood to begin with in the way you’re related to your siblings so really, it was anything goes when it came to me- genetically speaking that is.” Arella was skirting around her connection to Lilith as much as she could as they hadn’t yet told any of the kids in the family about this kind of thing. “I really wouldn’t think too hard on it if I were you. It’ll give you a headache.” The boy only nodded as he sipped on his tea. He had never seen his mother trying so hard to skirt around something she didn’t want him to know. “Anywho, are you hungry? I can start on breakfast.

“Yeah, thanks. I can help if you want.”

“Thank you, that sounds lovely.”

“Also... Can I have that letter back...”

------------------------------------------------------

Getting up and dressed for school was difficult for Persephone. Ever since she’d overheard her dormmates snickering about the letter they’d forged and sent to Aurelius, she’d been dreading the idea of seeing him at school. She wanted to get to know him but now he was probably going to avoid her at all costs. As she looked herself over in the mirror, she hoped he hadn’t put two and two together yet or that the impression she made on him that day would be enough to tip him off that something was wrong.

Instead of having breakfast with her dormmates, the succubus just headed out for school. She was too nervous to actually keep anything down. She kept looking around, Persephone was hoping to spot the object of her affections. And then she saw them, the three girls that he lived with at the House of Lamentation: his sister, cousin, and a sorcerer-in-training that had come to stay with them. But Aurelius was nowhere to be seen.

Persephone moved to trail just behind them, just far enough away to not look like she was eavesdropping but close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“A new term, a new start!” Zulima smiles as she stretches. “It sucks that I’m grounded. What I wouldn’t kill to go out shopping after school for skin care products. There’s a new line I’ve been interested in trying that comes out today.”

“Hey, that’s all on you, Missy!” Azalea grumbled. “And what’s worse ya got my brother booted out of the dorm and grounded too for doin’ your dirty work.”

Zulima squawked at that as she threw her arms around her cousin. “That wasn’t my intention though! I said I was sowwy.”

“Hey, hey, hey none of that cutesy shit, got it? Cut it out.”

Zulima pouted at that as Max laughed softly.

“Come on, Zulima, you have to admit that you were in the wrong even though it all panned out in the end.” The human smiles.

“MAX!”

“Huh? Oh shit- Sorry, Sunshine, it slipped.”

“Wait... Wait did my plan actually work?” The silver-haired girl’s eyes lit up. “It did, didn’t it?! Stars, I have to tell Daddy.” The sixteen-year-old dashed off.

“Zulima stop! Don’t- aaaaand she’s gone...” The half-demon only sighs,” Damn, what are we gonna do with her...? You know we’ve just unleashed a monster, right? She’s gonna tell everyone.”

“Yeah, I mean we could just go public with it ourselves. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“Well, no, under normal circumstances it wouldn’t, but I still have enemies at school. Sure, it's no secret that you’re important ta me but if our classmates knew we were datin’, they’d go after you ta get ta me. I know you’ve been workin’ on improvin’ your magic and Solomon even gave ya that charm that’ll mostly protect ya from most attacks from demons but it still makes me nervous since I take advanced courses while the rest of y’all take regular classes and I can’t be with ya ‘cept for homeroom and lunch. I mean my family can know, that’s all well ‘n good. They all like ya anyway but the reason I didn’t want Zulima knowin’ is that when it comes to secrets, she’s got the loosest set of lips this side of the human world...”

“Aww thanks for being worried about me,” She slung an arm around Azalea as they walked.

The white and black-haired girl stiffened slightly. Even after a year, she still wasn’t really used to someone outside of the family showing her any kind of public displays of affection, platonic or otherwise.

“Sorry, are you uncomfortable?”

“N-no. I like it. Don’t stop. Anyway, love, we should go. Aurelius is waitin’ for us.” The half-demon’s voice was quiet as they kept going.

Watching from a safe distance, Persephone laughed softly. Azalea had a reputation for being an unapproachable tough girl so to see her being so soft with a human was interesting. She wondered if she could manage to get close to his older sister and her girlfriend, she might be able to get close to Aurelius. Was it wrong to use Azalea for her own purposes? Yes, and Persephone knew that but if the letter was still a factor, she had to prove that she didn't mean him any harm.

Hurrying to school, she thought of a way to introduce herself to the girls ahead of her. What she wasn’t expecting was to bump into Azalea and fall on her face.

“Hey, watch where yer goin’!” Azalea growled as she puffed out her chest, that tough girl front making its first appearance for the day. “Ya almost knocked me over.”

“Azalea, be nice. Are you okay, Miss?”

“Sorry, I thought I had more room. I didn’t mean to bump into you and yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for asking.”

“Whatever, just make sure it don’t happen again, got it?” Azalea's blue to gold gradient eyes studied her appearance. “You go to RAD? I ain’t never seen ya around before. You new here?”

“Ah, yes. I just transferred here. Today’s my first day.” Persephone smiled as she held out her hand.

Max reached out to shake her hand and Azalea thought about stopping her but that might not be a good idea. As she regarded Persephone, an eyebrow raised slowly, remembering what her brother told her about the girl he was unsure had sent that letter.

“What’s yer name, girly? I heard about a transfer student from my brother. That you?”

Persephone’s eyes widened. He talked about her? How does she answer? Does she tell the truth or does she lie? Ultimately, the succubus nodded deciding the truth was best.

“Stay away from my brother, got it? Yer gonna regret it if I find out about ya harassin’ him. He already gets enough of that and you don’t need to addin’ to that. He’s already thinkin’ about quittin’ the one thing he loves ‘cuz of crazy fans like you.”

Max could sense that Azalea was getting more and more worked up. Before the situation could get out of hand, she grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and drug her off so she didn’t do something she’d regret later.

Well that option was out. As they walked off, Azalea turned her head back toward Persephone with a warning glare. The former idol knew now she had to set things straight. She knew what it was like to have crazy fans too.

------------------------------------------------------

Homeroom was the first class of the day, having been dropped off by his mother, Aurelius was able to get prime seating at the back of the class where the teacher could hardly see him and therefore wouldn’t call on him if they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He pulled out that letter, waiting for Persephone to show up. They were all in the same year and there was only one homeroom teacher for their year so every student in their year- advance courses included- had the same homeroom hour.

The teen watches the door with baited breath.

“I hope this is the right room.” She mumbled. When her eyes met his she looked away. They were the only two in the class room.

“Hey again.” He smiled, using his charm to his advantage. “Come here, I’d like to speak with you.” She was a little hesitant to begin with but ultimately, she decided to sit with him. “So...” Aurelius slides the letter over to her. “I want you to tell me the truth. Did you actually lie to me when we met last week? Did you really know who I was all along and still chose to lie to me?”

Persephone stared at the letter with horror. “Y-Yeah. I just didn’t want you to feel bad about knocking over a fan of yours...”

“Thought so, well thanks for thinking of my feelings. That was considerate of you. And by the look on your face, I take it you recognize what on the table.”

“I didn’t send this letter. It was forged by a dormmate of mine.” The former idol panicked about losing her one chance at getting closer to him.

“Mhm... Well, I’d believe it. And I think I know who sent it. Would you like to read it and tell me if anything in it is actually true?”

“Your sister told me you’re getting harassed.... I’m sorry you have to go through that.” she said as she nodded.

“You’ve already run in to ‘Zalea, huh? She didn’t say anything or threaten you, did she?”

“She told me to stay away from you or I’d regret it. Should I move before she gets here?”

“No don’t. I called you over here because I wanted you to sit with me. You’re going to end up with a few of my self-proclaimed ‘super fans’ nipping at your heels though. Just ignore them, alright? And if my sister tries to start anything, let me handle her.”

“Okay, also... this letter is really creepy but a couple things are true... I do have all of your issues of DevilStyle Teen and I am a big fan. But I want to get to know you. I know there’s more to a person than what you see in a magazine. Would that be alright?”

He’s surprised at this, but it was a welcome surprise. “Yeah sure. I’m kind of grounded at the moment, but we can hang out here in the morning and talk. The teacher unlocks it at 6 a.m. so meet me then. After I’m out of punishment, we can hang out outside of school too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in getting to know you as well. Also, stop trying to charm me. It’s not going to work. Like my mother, charms don’t work on me.”

The succubus blushed as she sputtered apologies and a deep embarrassed blush covered her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she was using her powers on him- the same powers that skyrocketed her to fame as an idol.

He only chuckled at that. “If you really want to earn my affections, you’re going to have to put in the hard work.” He teased.

“G-Good to know.” She squeaked as other students began to enter and she and Aurelius began to chat casually.

------------------------------------------------------

Find more on my masterlist

#obey me next gen #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me oc #arella #aurelius #azalea #max #zulima

8 notes · View notes

centrally-unplanned · 4 years ago

Text

(Spoilers ahead) Partner and I finished Season 2 of the Fruits Basket modern remake this weekend. I had only seen the, uh, 2001 original anime (2001? It was 20 years ago? Fuck), with no exposure to the manga, so a lot of the plot elements were new to me. I liked a lot of the show, but I have some big complaints about it handles its villain, Akito:

1: Akito occupies a very awkward place in this story. He (don’t worry, ill get to that) is the head of the main crew’s family and constantly inflicts abuse on all of its members, and is therefore the source of conflict for the plot, both in past trauma and present attempts as control and gaslighting.

Okay, so stories often have to walk a tightrope with abusive characters like this. Stories are normally pushed along and resolved internally - the main cast is going to experience the pain and drama, and fix it themselves, because that is the arc. For many plots that is easy, but if the story revolves around an abusive sibling/parent figure like Fruits Basket does, you will always be asking yourself the question “uh, why doesn’t anyone call the cops? or why don’t they just leave?” There is a tension between realism in the setting and the needs of the plot.

You can in fact resolve this tension in a lot of ways. If the abuse is primarily mental, slowly building, inflicted out of sight of responsible parties, etc, you can make this work. Lots of people don’t report abuse to authorities, or just move out of their house, but instead deal with it due to it being normalized. Other ways include making the characters teenagers - they don’t think of the world as having authorities outside of family (or school) and its much harder for them to reach outside of that bubble - the classic highschool bully problem. So Akito can work if he is subtle, slowly ramps, and controls his surroundings to hide his abuse from relevant authorities.

Anyway here is Akito pushing a 17 year old girl out of a two story window shattering her back and hospitalizing her for months:

And here he is threatening a 17 year old boy with life confinement in a literal cage unless he, uh, wins a duel with his cousin?

These are the worst moments but they are far from alone. This person is a raving lunatic, which fair enough that the 17 year olds don’t know how to handle that, but Akito himself is no older than 20. And the cast of characters who know everything that is going on includes:

-27 year old *published author* Shigure, who directly cares for both Akito and two of his abuse victims

-27 year old completely-independent business owner, Ayame, who is the *brother* of one of the abuse victims

-27 year old licensed medical doctor Hatori, who lives with and is the physician of Akito.

Hatori is violating every ethical obligation of his profession on the daily, dude is stone cold! This again could work if these characters were bad guys, but they aren’t - they are sympathetic protagonists or in Aya’s case even comic relief! The show wants you to think they are doing their best, Shigure even has a secret “plan” to deal with Akito that he has been planning for *years* and they all have "reasons” why they feel stuck due to the Zodiac curse yadda yadda. But you have to memory hole the fact that they are functioning adults in 21st century Japan, because otherwise Shigure and Hatori in particular reach levels of negligence to the children they care for that it tips right on over into being evil itself.

These kids go to public school, guys!

Now I know what any defender would say - “its the curse!” The whole cast carries the curse of the Zodiac where God invited them in long-ago times to a dinner, Akito is the current manifestation of that God in some form, and so they are bound to him to enact that “dinner” metaphorically in some way by staying by his side (also they transform into their respective Zodiac animals when chest-on-chest contact occur from the opposite sex, because Anime). Again, you can make this work! Show Akito exerting a magical force on characters who stray too far from him, or a compulsion locking them to being forever near the Sohma estate where he lives. Something showing that yeah, the relevant authorities could not handle this and dragging Akito away in chains won’t work. But sadly the show just...doesn’t bother. There is a “curse” but we are two seasons in and any negative consequences of the curse beyond Akito Being An Asshole are Footage Not Found (Kyo is an exception, but not a relevant one), despite everyone pretending like there is. Everyone wants to break the curse? Fine, kill Akito. Then you all get to live in peace and transform into adorable animals when you’d like, curse broken. Just throw “doesn’t cuddle or do missionary position” on your OkCupid profile to make your love life work, no one is gonna bat an eye, and some people will be, lets say, readily down with your particular transformation fetish.

None of this is fatal to the show per se, you can suspend disbelief. But the show takes itself so seriously that you can’t help but think these thoughts, and it colors in particular how the older characters act. And it would be so easy to fix! They just didn’t bother.

2: Can someone explain to me, in the year of our Zodiac Lord 2021, how a character secretly being a girl is a “surprise reveal” worth ending a season on? The final shot of Season 2 is that our resident asshole Akito has some female-presenting nipples, which is apparently a Big Deal? (maybe the show takes place on Tumblr, *zing*) Its the villain, they are an abusive maniac and also metaphorically/actually a divine being. Why does doubling their X chromosome count affect or change anything? I can envision plots where that is relevant, but this was not one! Maybe the next season will build that into the arc, but they haven’t done that yet, so the moment itself falls incredibly flat.

Yet people obviously feel differently from me - as is my habit I checked the reddit threads for the final episode and they are replete with people commenting on how shocking a twist it was, how they looked forward to it as manga readers, etc. Its a classic suspense trick I think, of how you can just have an event be surprising without it being thematically relevant, and it will work as long as you add the right drama bells around it. This was just a pretty egregious example of it.

-----

Between these problems, Fruits Basket has this aura of laziness around its none-core characters that does drag it down. Which is sad since I do actually like how it treats its core cast, even if it is stretched out over twice as many episodes as it needs. I am just guessing here, but beyond just “not caring” and doing it for the drama, I think it stems out of adapting the manga “faithfully”.

So Fruits Basket got an anime adaption in 2001, and the author (Natsuki Tayaka) haaaaated it. It was only twenty six episodes, a ~third of which got consumed just introducing the zodiac cast, so its plot had to be mixed around and truncated, and it was much more comedic and zany in tone. It was still very popular, so demand for a “better” adaptation of the full manga was high, which eventually happened in 2019. This time around Tayaka insisted on a high degree of control and faithfulness - I would bet it was essentially a “shot for shot” adaptation, and I have seen manga/anime comparison compilations to that effect.

The problem lies in how manga are made - they are almost never planned out start to finish. You pitch like a chapter, it gets picked up, and then its being published in tandem to its own production. That means that its pretty rare for the ending to be thought out, and the story figures itself out as it goes. Early manga Fruits Basket is pretty zany! Which means it plays fast and loose with its worldbuilding and its adult characters act silly most of the time. Once the high drama kicks in you realize that doesn’t work anymore, but you have already published it all months ago, no way to revise it now, so you just have to bite the bullet.

An anime adaptation would be a good time to clean that up! Its what Kare Kano did - a manga that starts as a cute highschool romcom and ends in sexual assault, for the anime they tried to create tonal consistency right from the start and change plot details around accordingly. But when the author, burned by a past studio, insists on Complete Accuracy...well then the anime has to bite the same bullets the manga did. And so you get Fruits Basket (2019), a show destined to never rise above its source material.

But hey, if Season 3 ends with Tohru just whipping out a gun, shooting Akito right between the eyes, and walking off into the sunset with a harem of zodiac hotties, then all will be forgiven.

#fruits basket #Fruits basket spoilers #Does a 2001 anime qualify as '90's anime discourse'?

44 notes · View notes

foilfreak · 4 years ago

Text

Headcannons for my favorite One Punch Man rarepair: Golden Ball x Spring Mustachio

Both joined the Hero Association around the same time and knew of each other in passing, due to living in the same city, but didn’t officially meet until about 8 months in, and as a result of that, these two did NOT like each other at all during those first 8 months. Spring Mustachio thought Golden Ball was just another crass and reckless delinquent using heroism as a legal outlet for violence, and Golden Ball thought Spring Mustachio was an entitled rich boy who was probably paying his way up the hero ranks. When the two heroes were finally forced to formally introduce themselves to one another at the first annual Hero Association banquet, or some other equivalently pointless publicity stunt the Associacion probably put on at some point or another, they were shocked to find just how wrong their initial judgments of one another actually were.

Despite Golden Ball’s appearance, what with the bleach-blonde hair, slightly baggy clothes, tall, muscular frame, and the lollipops that Spring Mustachio correctly guesses are a substitute for cigarettes, Golden Ball is actually incredibly intelligent, having earned a master’s degree in chemical engineering (this particular headcanon is inspired by @batneko) from a highly prestigious university (currently considering going back for his PhD if he can save up the money), and all of his signature weapons are his own personal inventions. Likewise, Spring Mustachio, despite having the appearance and persona of someone who grew up having everything handed to him on a silver platter, had long ago rejected the escalator to success his parents had offered him in the form of taking over as head of their family business, in favor of going out on his own to explore the world and everything it had to offer, mastering the art of swordsmanship and opening his own restaurant (where even after hiring a decent sized staff, he still took up menial tasks such as washing dishes and serving guests) along the way.

After getting to know each other at that first meeting, the two heroes became surprisingly fast friends, their personalities mixing rather well together on top of having many shared interested, and even began hanging out outside of their hero duties, where they already spent a considerable amount of time together considering how frequently the Association paired them together for missions. Most of their time outside of work was spent at Spring Mustachio’s restaurant, engaging in casual, slightly teasing conversation over onion rings and a couple rounds of beer after a long day of hero work. Later on into their friendship however, it became much more common for Golden Ball to also come into the restaurant during the day to bother the older man during his shift, not that Spring Mustachio minded the company one bit, especially if it meant having a couple of extra hands available to dry the dishes he’d just washed. It eventually got to the point where it was pretty much common knowledge throughout the city that if Golden Ball wasn’t out on a patrol or sent away on a mission for the Association, the first place you ought to check if you’re looking for him would be Spring Mustachio’s. Likewise if it’s Spring Mustachio you’re looking for and the restaurant is a no-go, try your hand at getting ahold of Golden Ball, cuz wherever he is, chances are that Spring Mustachio is standing right next to him. Its a wonder how the whole city doesn’t start assuming the two are dating when they begin referring to each other as ‘Gold’ and ‘Spring’, during hero work, and exclusively by their first names when off the clock.

The two heroes remain nothing more than close friends for full year after their first meeting, and while both had developed more-than-friendly feelings for one another over that time, neither were planning on doing anything about it, not wanting unrequited feelings to potentially ruin the incredible friendship they’d formed, among the other internal struggles that come with accepting that you’re attracted to other men in a society that, although no longer criminalizes homosexuality, definitely still doesn’t view it in a positive light by any means. Spring Mustachio has been in the closet his whole life and plans to keep it that way to avoid the potential social backlash. Golden Ball on the other hand didn’t realize he was bisexual until grad school and has since only managed to work up the courage to come out to his (thankfully incredibly supportive) family and closest childhood friends. Needless to say neither of them were in the headspace to even think about confessing, especially when they had so much to lose should it not go well, and both heroes were content to simply let their feelings die out over time if it meant that their friendship would remain intact.

Things change however, when Golden Ball’s place gets totally trashed in a monster attack, and the younger man finds himself staying with Spring Mustachio at his house until it can be repaired. Now not only do both men have to deal with their budding feelings for one another, but they also have to deal with their budding feelings for one another while also figuring out how to coexist in the same space, made even more interesting by the fact that Golden Ball has two pitbulls, Gizmo and Tonka, and Spring Mustachio isn’t the biggest fan of dogs (spoiler: Spring Mustachio falls in love with the sweet little puppers and spoils them absolutely rotten, much to Golden Ball’s amusement). Over the couple of months it takes for Golden Ball’s apartment to be fixed the men learn several things about each other that never would have come to light in any other context, including, but not limited to: Spring Mustachio’s extensive collection of alcohol bottles from all the drink’s he’s tried over the years (and of course all the stories that come with those bottles), Golden Ball’s horrific nicotine addiction being the result of an undiagnosed anxiety disorder that got BAD toward the end of undergrad and was forced to come to an end when he had a heart attack at 25, the tumultuous relationship Spring Mustachio has had with his family (specifically his parents) since breaking away from the plan they had created for him, the fact that Golden Ball is easily the biggest nerd that Spring Mustachio has ever met (and probably the smartest too), the brief run Spring Mustachio had as a competitive fencer in his early 30s that Golden Ball thinks he should get back into, the adorable way Golden Ball talks to his dogs when he thinks no one is listening, and so much more.

These things of course only cause their feelings to worsen and the situation just continues to spiral out of control from there. Im torn over whether I want them to actually get together in like a nice, mature way, like they ultimately end up talking abou their feelings to just get them off their chests, you know like adults, or if i want them to confess after getting into a huge fight, like maybe one of them got really hurt and some things they didnt actually mean were said and so they didn’t talk for a bit but then they end up tracking each other down and confessing after the tension finally snaps or something like that. I’ll leave that up for you all to decide but what i will say is that they get together just as Golden Ball’s apartment is finished being rebuilt, but with his lease being up at the end of the month and having already settled rather comfortably at Spring Mustachio’s place, he decides not to renew the lease and just stay where he is, much to Spring Mustachio’s delight.

As for their families, Spring Mustachio tells only his older sister and younger brother, who are confused, but ultimately supportive and happy that their brother found someone he truly loved and wanted to be with. His parents end up finding out somehow and while they aren’t exactly thrilled about it when they first learn that their eldest son is dating another man nearly 20 years his junior, they are, to their credit, polite and avoid making any inappropriate comments on the rare occasions he and Golden Ball do agree to visit the estate for dinner. Golden Ball initially only tells his parents, but things rarely stay secret for very long in his family, and not even a week goes by before his grandparents are calling asking if he’ll be bringing his new boyfriend to the cookout at the end of the month. Spring Mustachio has a fantastic time meeting the plethora of grandparents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and close family friends that make up Golden Ball’s wonderfully lively family, though he does end up getting thrown into the pool by Golden Ball’s older brothers at some point, as is custom treatment for “new members” of the family. He doesn’t seem to mind all that much, especially when Golden Ball’s mother finally breaks out the baby pictures and he gets to coo over how adorably plump his boyfriend was as an infant, much to said boyfriend’s growing embarrassment.

For professionalism’s sake they decide to keep the relationship on the dl and though the two are rarely seen apart, they save the more intimate moments and actions for behind closed doors. No need to give the press an excuse to start shit.

Let me know what you think of my headcanons and what your headcanons are for this rarepair if you have any!!!

#one punch man #opm #golden ball opm #golden ball one punch man #golden ball #spring mustachio opm #spring mustachio one punch man #spring mustachio #mine #headcanons #golden ball x spring mustachio #golden mustache #ship

31 notes · View notes

georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

Text

Like Real People Do

“Hii can you do an imagine, "Your first time with George" maybe as an insecure/uneasy reader"

"Can you pleeaaassse write more nsfw stuff? More Than A Night Out gave me my rights"

Alright yall, heed the 18+ warning!

Seriously, I really don't want to block anyone (I love yall!) On that note... I wouldn't say this theme is my strong suit, nor have I been in a good headspace, but boy did I try my best ♡

w/c: 3k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You didn't date.

You called off meeting up with strangers in bars and listening to them tell half-assed life stories, embellishing in hopes they'd get to have their way with you in the same evening.

You were happy to mingle among friends on weekends and at parties, but going home alone felt safe. Keeping to yourself was the best bet, having learned your lesson by now. You recalled more unpleasant domestic experiences than ones that left you daydreaming of more. So you simply stayed single.

Some of your friends didn't regard your limits, tricking you into double dates and the like. Other friends understood but still gushed over their brothers and cousins in hopes you'd be intrigued by their qualities and demand to be introduced with wedding rings on standby.

And then there were the friends who never asked or bothered you about it at all. George was one of those friends.

He was your ride to your friend groups monthly movie theater meet up's. And he always let you take home his leftovers after dinners he wasted chatting with your mutual friends about books and culture.

In turn, you let George borrow your favorite albums. And you'd always saved him a seat in the back of bars you had to show up to for friend's birthday parties, while they threw themselves between strangers on the dance floor. Times like then were when you got to know George best.

And during the last month of summer, George invited everyone to take over a beach house big enough for your ever-expanding group and more. Apparently some of his distant family owned the property but were hardly ever in the area to enjoy it. So they gave George a spare key, and insisted he treated the place like his own.

And thankfully, then, between your friends racing to the shore in the witching hour, and when everyone split up into pairs for the evening, George kept you company. You made a habit of joining each other on the rickety front porch, sharing a drink, and usually sitting in silence.

But there were nights you talked about the constellations you could see above the roaring ocean. And where you'd like to live if you had an unlimited budget. Where you'd come from and what you wanted, and didn't.

You went home to the most dreary September of all time. You used to adore the solitude of your dull apartment. But you missed waking up to your friend's laughter, having someone, if not many more, to enjoy market runs and mealtimes with. You had never felt more lonely. And you couldn't stop thinking of George.

When he came round to give you a lift to the movie theater, your usual ride together was quiet. The silence between you was heavy- you wondered if he noticed. You sat together in a boring film. Or maybe it was the best of all time. You could only focus on how close George was to you, how you'd recognized the feeling of his company. You wondered how to ask him to come around more often, without sounding pathetically desperate.

Luckily birthday parties and Halloween bashes kept coming. And you kept finding quiet places to listen to George tell his stories. And he would always share his drink, and ask about your family, and how you were doing.

One night when he invited everyone around to his flat and only a couple of your friends managed to show up, they headed out soon after dinner. You were left alone in George's kitchen to help clean up and wonder what to do with the rest of the early blue evening.

And even though your heart beat in your throat, and everything you thought to say sounded stupid in your head, you determined it was time.

During a much too easy card game at Georges table, when a conversation about some of the horrifically silly things George had witnessed you manage in the past; you decided to stop testing the waters, and address them.

"I can't believe you put up with me." You grinned, peering past your hand of playing cards to the guy sat beside you.

"I just like you," George answered simply, his ocean eye flickering up to meet yours for a beat.

"Really?" You asked, pushing for him to say more, hoping he got the hint.

"I really do." George grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his hand of playing cards he kept accidentally giving you glimpses of. You watched George bite his lip and fiddle with the cards as if he were arranging them just so.

"What if... I like you too?" It wasn't just his tousled yellow hair, or the way his smile was warmer than a ray of sun. It was his lame jokes. His soft answers. Him.

"You don't date." George rose a brow, keeping his eyes turned away. He wasn't bittered or mocking. He was accepting. George laid down his cards, to a game you weren't focused on at all anymore.

"I like you, George." You admit in a hush. His stunning eyes met yours. He seemed to consider your words, and much more. He started to speak a couple of times as he searched your features.

"So maybe... we can start slow..." You offered. You had never planned on opening up to anyone. But George had stuck around. He was always there when you needed him even when you hadn't known what you needed. He didn't make fun of your unreasonable anxieties and he always laughed at your jokes. Even the ones you knew weren't funny. You hadn't expected to ever let anyone close enough, you hadn't trusted anyone could feel like home. But before you could even decide, it was as if your heart grew a mind of its own and lept right out of your chest into George's orbit. So since he already seemed to have you, it seemed like common courtesy to at least let the guy know.

With a shy smile, George bore his brilliant blue eyes into yours, searching them for assurance. As you looked to each other you felt his knuckles brush yours, the back of his hand nervously creeping closer. George took one of his fingers and looped it around one of yours while he agreed that it would be silly for two people who felt the same way about each other to do nothing about it. So you did.

George started coming around when there wasn't any reason to, sometimes bringing take away, or asking you on walks around the park. Sometimes you'd sit in silence next to your favorite old tree and enjoy that last purple swirls in the dusk sky. And sometimes you'd watch films, one after another, pausing only to argue over the ending or make silly predictions. And times like then, you curled into George's side like a sleepy cat. He'd carded his warm hand through your hair as you drifted off, content.

You got snowed into his flat when you showed up a few hours before the first-holiday party of the season; to help bake treats for everyone. As ice froze everyone's doors shut, the party was swiftly canceled but your plans for the evening weren't ruined at all.

George set up his den with extra blankets, finding the holiday channel on the telly, standing to refill your cup of tea during commercials so you didn't have to move. He kissed you that night, soft and kind, and slow. You both fell asleep on the floor among the mess of all the blankets he owned, while snow piled up and over the window sills.

You spent New Year's Eve much like the past couple before, watching your wild group of pals take shots and dance to bad music. George listened to you talk as you waited for the new year to set in, and he kept one of his fingers looped around yours almost all night long.

When the snow started to melt and your group of friends started squeezing into their cut off jeans from the year before, George invited everyone back to the beach house. He set a date and sent out invitations in the mail like it was the damn 1800's. Most every rsvp got sent back with the box labeled "going "grossly marked up.

George offered to give you a lift there, a day early so he could stock up on emergency snacks and soaps and even more DVDs in case the rains came and ruined your fun on the shore. You agreed happily and walked through the isles of a department store together, picking out essentials based on how well you knew your group of friends who might need them.

And while you laughed and helped and listened, you grew increasingly more fucking terrified. Because you'd never spent so long enjoying one person's company. You were enamored with George yes, but what's more, was- you trusted him. You never thought it was possible. But you really did. And the thing that you were most scared of, was having to accept the possibility that he didn't feel the same way.

Things like this had gone wrong before. Granted, things had never gone remotely close to this right before, either. But you still prepared yourself to hurt. It was always a possibility you were too afraid of risking. But George was different. You somehow knew even if he hurt you, it would be the loveliest heartbreak you'd ever feel.

You got to the beach house, completely abandoned since the last time you left it. You found your someone's favorite lost t-shirt in one of the bathrooms, and a lot of dust on the shelves. After clearing away some of the cobwebs and unloading all your groceries to their respective places, night began to fall.

The sky was still blue enough to admire the roaring ocean from the front porch. George brought out a couple of drinks, and you sat there together like you had the summer before. Only now, it was a little too chilly. So you said goodnight to the scenery, making a note of spending extra time to soak up its beauty the next morning.

And on your way inside you joked about how someone was bound to forget to pack something they needed, or bring one of the things George asked them to. You were wrapped up in laughter as you turned out the lights and drifted to settle in.

When you headed to the bedroom where all your bags had been discarded, you scurried off to the ensuite shower. This was the room George stayed in last year, a space you'd never stepped foot near until tonight.

And when you stepped back out into the bedroom, you realized you didn't want to leave.

George was busy turning down his bed covers to the dim night light in a far off corner. A dark shine beamed in from the moon in the window next to the quilted bed, and George never looked more beautiful- perfectly tousled hair. Kind, sleepy eyes. Yeah, you'd let him break your heart.

"What?" He laughed in a warm low rumble, catching you staring. You bit back a chuckle and crossed the room to meet him.

"I just love you. That's all." You informed, circling one of your fingers around his, gazing up to the guy.

You'd said so in passing, during game nights he helped you win and in the middle of lunches he'd managed to talk you into ordering. But nothing prompted you now, and the statement held an all-new kind of weight.

"I love you, too," George whispered in turn, raising his other hand to your cheek.

"Can I stay in here? With you?" You asked, keeping your gaze set and your voice low even though no one else was around to hear.

"I'd like that." George assured with a tiny grin.

You clamored into the big bed, pointing out the window to the moon over the ocean. George eased in behind you, gazing all the same. You tangled your hands together staring out the window for a while, giggling over nothing every now and again. He was so impossibly close, so warm next to you.

"George." You turned your head slowly, catching his attention. He looked at you, silently wondering what you wanted. But somehow you didn't need to say.

Somehow he knew to lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, you could tell he didn't want to. When George looked at you, you could tell he longed for more, but still kept his distance, kept your meek nature in mind. He was too kind, too considerate. There weren't words to convey how you felt. You knew what came next. You wanted George.

You reached for his hand, and brought it to rest in the dip of your waist. He kept his eyes steady on yours while his thumb brushed over the skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up.

"Kiss me again?" You asked, barely a whisper. George leaned in, almost before you could finish asking, to press his mouth against yours. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him closer while George let his hand travel to the small of your back, holding you perfectly against him. He kissed you slow and deep like he was trying to put you in a trance.

Whether he meant to or not, you wondered if it worked, as you melted into the mattress all while lazily pulling him almost all the way on top of you. This was as far as you'd ever taken things with George, yanking at each other's clothes while you kissed until you couldn't breathe.

So when you gently pushed George away, he started to retract back to his side of the bed without putting up a fight. But you sat up too. And George watched on in wonder when you sheepishly slid into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

Without a word you pulled George's shirt up, silently suggesting he take it all the way off.

When he did, you didn't relish the sight long before you dove in for another kiss. His skin was burning, and you could feel his heart hammer when your hand traveled across his chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, reveling in the feeling of being so close. George kept one arm gently wrapped around you as your teeth grazed a spot under his ear that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Y/n. Are you- Do you..." George began, keeping his hold around you all the same. You pulled away, gazing to George through your lashes while your heart teetered on the edge.

"Do you not want to?" You worried. You were so finally sure. But George might not have been. So you prepared to be let down gently, knowing George would at least be kind enough to break your fall.

"Yes." George let out a breathy laugh, reaching to hold your head in both of his hands. "Of course I want to do this. But I know how you feel and if you don't-"

"I trust you, George." You nodded, searching his eyes while a smile bloomed across your face. You'd been so nervous for a moment like this to come true. But everything was different with George. He made you laugh when you never expected to, he made you think about things in ways you'd never even considered. He was so the one for you.

You wrapped your fingers around George's wrist, bringing his plus to your lips. You watched George's eyes flutter as you planted a small kiss there, before moving his hand to your hip.

"Just go slow." You nodded, watching George's eyes open to meet yours. You leaned your forehead against his while he nodded, making you laugh.

He decorated your cheeks with gentle pecks and moved his hands under the hem of your shirt as you leaned in to capture his lips with yours again. And because you spent a while that way, you weren't nervous to act upon taking things even further.

Kisses turned seering as George wrangled your shirt off. His lips traveled down your throat as you settled deeper into his lap, shocked by how easy this was. Your kisses grew longer and sloppier while your layers started to collect on the floor.

You impressed yourself by how effortlessly you reach to pull away George's trousers. He managed to kick them aside while you kept your lips on his, laughing between breaks for air.

But when he pulled you back into his lap, when his fingers danced around your waistband, you were suddenly swept up in the realization that this was happening. Like, really happening.

"Uh, wait a second." You halted in a shaky breath. You didn't want to stop, not completely. You just needed to assess things for a moment, to catch up with this new reality in which this wasn't upsetting or dull or any of the things being with anyone else ever was.

George stalled in an instant, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Do you want to stop?" He asked gently, hands firmly pressed against your back, eyes glowing right into yours.

"No way." You breathed with a grin. You knew it would be better than before, with George. Probably the best. It already was, you realized with a smile, encouraging George one more time. Your hips rolled against his, causing his heavenly sigh in your ear.

He wriggled you out of the last of your clothes and made you feel like a wonder of the world, tracing the shapes you were made up of with his pretty fingers. By the time you were laid against the pillows admiring the halo of light ringing around George's waves of hair, he asked again if you were sure about this.

"So long as you are." You swallowed.

"Of course I'm sure. God, I'm so sure." George pressed a kiss to your face between sentences, making you giggle and swoon all at once. "I've never been so sure of anyone but you. I'd like to keep it that way." George rambled, peppering a few more loving, gentle kisses to your cheek. "But if you want to stop for any reason, we'll stop. Just say so."

"Thank you, George." You grinned after a beat, knowing he really meant it. Recognizing how deeply he really cared for you, watching him search your face for validation. Watching George watch you, contentedly, like he had dozens of times before now. He gave you a slowly sleepy blink, ocean blue eyes shining brighter when they opened again.

George leaned closer, hovering over you with his eyes locked on yours. He molded a kiss to your lips before anything. Then to your cheek. Then his eyes fluttered to meet yours once more.

"Slow." You rose a brow, whispering a reminder, but it was really more of a green light for him to finally take the next step.

George repeated you, in a barely audible hush, soaking up the look in your eye. A lithe grin painted his lips while you held your breath. You accounted for the feeling of his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing across your temple every now and again. You'd nearly forgotten everything else while swimming in those warm icy eyes of his. He didn't break you from your reverie when he gave a small nod. The gesture only settled you further, as you responded by lacing your fingers around the back of his neck.

George kept his hand nearly cradling your head as he pushed closer. His thumb brushing across the pulse of your temple was keeping you grounded while your heart threatened to soar into the clouds. While your breathing grew deeper, while he moved as close as he could until he couldn't anymore.

"You okay?" George asked, his voice beautifully strained.

"Uh-huh." You gazed at him through hooded eyes as you adjusted everything, including the realization that this was happening. He wasn't even moving yet. And he waited until you had to ask him to, with his head buried in your neck. After a couple of breaths, you looked to George, giving him a nod. He pressed his forehead against yours and moved his hips.

A tame, steady pace set in as you stopped George from asking if you were alright, again, assuring him you were really, very good. Your raspy encouragement must have given George the sound authority to go about awing you further.

He kept one hand against your temple while his other trailed down your side, fingers deliberately pressed into your skin as he brought your leg around his hip. George's strong-arm hooked under your back to keep you secured against him. He picked up the pace as your hands tangled in his hair, around his shoulder, holding on to the moment. To George.

You wondered why you waited so long to feel this damned good, while George spoke low in your ear. He listed off all the things he liked best about you, and why. He planted clumsy kisses to your lips. He made you see stars brighter than all the far off constellations you were used to pointing out from the shoreline. You seemed to float among them, above everything. Time slowed down while your heart sped up, somehow, and while everything around you faded into an impossibly dull background, you still had George.

His weight was warm and secure. His breath was hot on your neck. His voice was saccharine in your ear. When he eventually eased next to your side in a heap, the cool of the night was still shielded by him.

You snuggled to his chest, like an old sleepy cat while he kept repeating how he loved you. You said so too, as many times as you could manage before drifting to sleep all tangled together.

The next morning came slow. You made coffee and watched the sunrise above the waves from the porch. When your friends started showing up in pairs and trios and more, they all seemed sort of relieved to find you and George attached at the hip. They greeted you as if you'd always been a packaged deal, and they didn't bat an eye when you stuck together to roam the vast empty beach. There was no fighting over choosing partners when someone broke out a new board game that night. When your friends were all gathered around the dinner table, and all the extra snacks and gifts and surprises for the summer were stored away, you still had George.

Maybe things wouldn't always be so easy. There would likely be fights and upsets and questions that didn't always have answers. But George was worth it. You had him now, you loved him and he couldn't stop reminding how dearly he loved you. Nothing had ever hurt so good before. You decided to keep it that way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

210 notes · View notes

moonflowerlesbians · 4 years ago

Text

count your blessings instead of sheep

Hello, friends! Back in November, I decided to partake in my first fandom Secret Santa exchange. I’m not much of an artist, so I opted for the holiday-themed fic route, and this one-shot was born. So, @satelitesprite I hope you enjoy, and Merry Christmas! Thank you so much to @damiesecretsanta for organizing.

Read this work on AO3.

Title: count your blessings instead of sheep, Rated T, Word Count: 4763

Summary: In which Dani takes Jamie's White Christmas comment a bit too seriously. (But Jamie's absolutely not complaining.)

~~~

One day at a time, they’d said. Jamie had looked at her so earnestly, spoken with such conviction, as if by sheer force of will she would bend the world, stacked so vehemently against them, to her whims. And, Dani supposes, she may as well have succeeded. They’re still here, after all. Still together. Still alive.

Jamie had said something else, too, that same day. A confession she’d admitted almost shamefully. A film about honoring memories and protecting what matters. A sight she’d like to see.

Dani gets to thinking, planning, scheming, if one could call it that. She makes a silent promise, to Jamie and then herself.

If they make it until December, Vermont is as good a place to spend the holidays as anywhere, she thinks.

Dani can’t seem to stop moving. The cuticle on her thumb is raw and bitten; her legs, one crossed over the other, bounce, bumping the tray table in front of her on occasion and nearly sending her drink toppling into her lap. She all but leaps out of her seat when Jamie places a hand on her knee.

“Easy, there,” Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Tremble any more and you’ll disrupt radio frequencies.”

It’s a weak attempt at humor, but Dani appreciates it nonetheless. The little notebook in her breast pocket burns a hole in her blouse, stuffed full of ideas and anticipatory hope.

“Might be able to help if you told me where we’re headed.”

She’s been trying for weeks to nose her way into Dani’s plans, to glean some inkling of direction since Dani first hinted, one quiet evening in early November, that maybe thinking about Christmas isn’t such a bad idea.

“Yeah?” Jamie had said, soft, not quite believing. The future, their future, had been a taboo topic, danced around like an active bomb.

“Yeah,” Dani confirmed, “trust me?”

“‘Course.”

Then it had been library visits and guidebooks and scribbling telephone numbers on lined pages and Jamie-don’t-you-dare-open-that-box.

Dani rocks with the gentle movement of the train beneath her as it rounds a bend in the tracks.

“Whatever happened to the fun of not knowing?” Dani tries for a tease but falls somewhere just short of playground wedding jitters. A little confused and perhaps regretting her choices. She clears her throat. “I just,” she sighs, “I want you to have a good time.”

Jamie scoffs. “Ah, well, you know how difficult I am to please. Such high standards and all.” She gestures to the tray table between them, littered with snack-sized pretzel packets and a can of seltzer to share.

Dani rolls her eyes. “The picture of refinement.” Jamie pops her shirt collar with a huff and a wry smile that earn her a playful kick to the shin, and she pouts. “Still not telling you.”

Jamie retracts her lower lip, her ploy failed. “Should’ve known I wouldn’t get you to crack on the last day. A steel trap, you are.”

Dani snorts at the obvious exaggeration. They both know just a lingering stare from Jamie has her weak at the knees.

She can’t say she’s complaining.

On the subject of their trip, though, she has managed to keep impressively silent, offering only such vague clues as, “Thoughts on the desert?” and “D’you suppose four thousand is too much if it’s a room with a balcony?” At latter of which, Jamie had gone slightly pale, but she had declared, albeit shakily, something along the lines of, “whatever makes you happy,” as she blanched.

And, oh, how Dani had loved her for it.

As the temperate trees outside their window turn to evergreens and the cold trickles in from the mountains, it becomes abundantly clear that Dani has not brought them to the desert. Just one more stop until theirs, and Dani can’t help the flash of worry that streaks through her like lightning.

She’s a perfectionist by nature. Or, at least, she was. Likes her ducks in a row, likes her trains on time and her schedules stuck to. These past months have been agony, each day a guessing game, no way to be sure what will come next. She understands the necessity, has tried to embrace it, even, but when the opportunity presented itself for her to plan something concrete, she leapt at it.

Jamie had stepped back, understanding how badly Dani needed this. A part of her, she told Dani, late in the night, wrapped in blankets and sweet embraces, was simply glad Dani could bear to think of the future, even short term.

When they left Bly, Dani would not allow herself to entertain the thought of next week, much less next year. But, as time slid past with no sign of her co-inhabitant, she relaxed, millimeter by millimeter, drop by drop, the tension slipped from her body. The paranoia, the jolt of terror upon rounding a corner, looking into a mirror, faded gradually each time she saw only herself, one eye brown, one blue.

Each day with Jamie pervaded her idea of “normal” until that is what their life became. Normal. Waking up together, seeking out breakfast, exchanging quips before setting about their adventure of the day felt...normal. A remarkable concept for the woman whose notion of normal shattered with a pair of glasses.

She sits across from the woman she thinks of as her best friend and marvels at how different her life was, even just a year ago, when the sentiment of a Christmas with someone she loves was unfathomable. She can only hope Jamie doesn’t hate it.

Jamie, who is folding the tray up and sweeping crumbs into her palm to dispose of, only to realize she has nowhere to put them. She looks around for a moment, mumbles a shit to herself, and stands to toss them in the bin in the restroom, while Dani watches affectionately.

“What?” Jamie says, when she returns, gathering her things.

“Didn’t think that one all the way through, did you?” Dani says, a little smug. It’s not really a question.

“You said one more stop, yeah? Thought we should be ready.”

“Eager?”

“You’re having a go at me,” she rags, “Been building this up for a month. Can’t blame a woman for being a wee bit curious.”

A conductor wanders past, loudly announcing the next stop.

“Vermont, eh?” Jamie wraps the strap of her bag around her hand once, twice. She’s nervous, too, Dani realizes. The unpredictability has taken a toll on her, as well. Jamie, who woke up at five-thirty like clockwork, who tended to the same plants on the same grounds with the same tools, who saw the same five people each day. She likes routine, just as Dani does.

Perhaps, should they make it to the new year, it’s time to find a place to plant themselves. A place to call their own, if Jamie will have her. Somewhere to land. The thought sends a thrill through her.

Dani nods. “Trust me?”

Jamie studies her. “Always.”

Dani collects her belongings from the overhead as the train slows to a creaking stop at the platform. They appear to be the only two disembarking. Unsurprising, really. From Dani’s research, the town’s population is in the low thousands. The station, a one-story, low building, is rustic, all exposed wood and lantern lighting fixtures.

“Clayton?” An older man calls as they step off the train. He leans against the hood of a town car emblazoned with the logo of his proprietor.

Holiday Inn, Est. 1942

“That’s me,” Dani chirps, meeting him halfway from the tracks, where he takes the bags from her arms with an amiable nod. Jamie follows him to the trunk -- boot, as she insists it’s called -- and drops her rucksack next to Dani’s, while Dani, herself, opens the door with a grand flourish. “M’lady.”

Jamie sends the driver a sidelong glance, but he slides into the front seat without a word. She accepts Dani’s invitation and turns to her once they settle a respectable distance apart on the back bench. The driver, Wallace, as he introduces himself, turns the key in the ignition.

“So, the Holiday Inn?” Jamie prods. “Wasn’t aware the big hotels did shuttle services now.”

“Not a hotel,” Dani corrects.

“No?”

“An inn.”

“Ah, thanks, love, that clears it right up,” Jamie deadpans, but there’s no bite to her words.

“Hold your horses,” Dani placates, “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Can’t feel my bloody hands, been holding these damn horses so long.”

Dani swats her across the stomach. “Quiet, you.”

“Oi, ‘s no way to start a holiday, is it?”

“So, what brings you across the pond?” Wallace cuts in, the car rounding a bend on its climb up the mountain. “We don’t get many Brits around here.”

Jamie looks to Dani, a smirk curling upon her lips. “Not entirely sure, actually. You want to take this one, Poppins?”

“She hasn’t been stateside since we were kids,” Dani supplies. “I thought it might be a nice change of pace to spend the holidays with my cousin since it’s been so long.” Then, muttering to only Jamie, “She’s more sarcastic than I remember.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. You know, I haven’t been overseas since the war. Can’t bring myself to fly these days.” He continues to regale them with stories of his time in France, and they allow his tales to fill the silence for the duration of the ride, Dani offering polite interjections wherever appropriate. This is, in part, a way to keep Jamie from asking questions and spoiling the surprise mere moments from its fulfillment.

They turn onto a narrow road lined with towering fir trees. Undisturbed snow from a recent bout of winter weather bows the branches. Jamie watches out the window, transfixed by the changing landscape. Dani cannot see her face.

“Here we are,” Wallace says, with a note of pride. “She needs a little work, but she’s home.”

A house comes into sight as the car crests a hill, a three-story colonial with a broad front porch and white trim. Rocking chairs perch near the railings, and pale blue shutters frame tall windows. An old barn stands a little ways down, weather-worn, but charming.

Dani hears a quick inhalation from beside her. Jamie’s gaze is fixed straight ahead. Dani’s stomach flips.

Their car pulls up in front of the lodge, and Wallace grabs their bags from the rear.

“We’ll be just a sec,” Dani says.

Jamie’s back is to her as she turns in a slow circle, absorbing the scenery, until her eyes come to rest on Dani, who fidgets with the nail on her index finger.

“So,” she begins, “I, um, I know we said we’d take it slow. But, you said snow could be nice, and you’ve done so much for me, and I just wanted to give you this one thing, but I get it if it’s too much or too cold. I just thought, you know, it might be nice since you said you saw White Christmas as a kid that one time, and I know it was probably a joke, but--”

“Dani,” Jamie interrupts, with a saccharine laugh and the most gentle smile, “love, not to interrupt what was shaping up to be quite the eloquent speech, but this,” she gestures at the picturesque cabin and the trees and the mountainside, “this, you didn’t have to do all of this.” She looks around hesitantly, then takes one of Dani’s hands in her own. “I almost forgot I mentioned that story, but, apparently, you didn’t.”

Dani grins sheepishly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jamie assures, “this is stunning. Everything I could’ve imagined. But, and I’m sure I’m starting to sound like a broken record, I would be just as happy spending Christmas in a shack under a bridge, so long as I’m sharing that shack with you.”

“I’d like to think this is at least a few steps up from a shack.”

“Oh, it most certainly is. Can’t say I’m mad about it, either. Quite fond of being warm, you know.”

“Speaking of,” Dani segues, “inside?”

“Please.”

Dani drops her hand and leads Jamie up the porch steps, the old wood groaning underfoot.

“Dani Clayton?” A portly woman steps out from behind a counter.

“Present,” Dani says brightly.

“Anne,” the woman replies merrily, “I believe we spoke on the phone. Welcome, the both of you, to the Holiday Inn. Such a pleasure to host this little family reunion.”

Jamie appears perplexed for only a moment. “Jamie,” she greets, accepting the proffered handshake, “lovely to meet you.”

“Right, well, your room is up the stairs to the right, third door in.” Anne smooths her apron and passes Dani a key. “Wallace, my husband, should’ve dropped off any luggage, and please join us and the other guests for Christmas Eve dinner tonight, won’t you?”

“We’ll be there,” Dani promises.

“So, cousins, then?” Jamie prompts once Dani has inserted the key into their lock.

“I figured it was the easiest way to get around two women sleeping in the same room,” Dani says apologetically. “Family bonding, and all.”

“S’pose sisters wouldn’t have made sense with the accent.”

“We look nothing alike.” Dani shuts the door behind them. “Wouldn’t have been believable.” She flops unceremoniously onto one of the two double beds. The pale pink quilt wrinkles as Jamie sits, leaning back against the oak headboard. The windows are shut, but the off-white, lavender-printed curtains sway in an unfelt breeze, and a small fire crackles in the brick hearth. The sun is just beginning to set over the treetops, casting the room in a golden haze.

“‘S nice here,” Jamie remarks. “Feels familiar.”

“I, um, I may have picked this place because it looks like the one in the movie. Had them fax me images of the rooms to find one--”

“That looks like the one Betty and Judy shared in White Christmas,” Jamie finishes, noting the white doors and gleaming brass knobs.

“And, the inn, too. I tried to find out if we could go to the real one where they filmed, but turns out it was a set on a soundstage in California.”

“You mean to tell me the painted backdrops were just,” she gasps for dramatic effect, causing Dani to laugh, “painted backdrops?”

Dani groans. “In hindsight, it should’ve been more obvious, but at least I tried?”

“And an admirable effort it was,” Jamie chuckles, tugging Dani’s sleeve until she moves up the bed to lay her head on Jamie’s shoulder. “Looks just like the real thing, right down to my very own Judy.” She presses a kiss to the top of Dani’s head.

“Mm, I think you might just have a thing for blondes in turtlenecks.”

“Seven-year-old Jamie might’ve been a wee bit taken with Vera-Ellen,” Jamie shrugs. “Who’s to say?” She continues, “Not a lot of pretty blondes for me to fall for back in those days.”

“Oh, well, as long as she’s pretty,” Dani teases.

“Happen to like my version much better, thank you. Terribly sorry, Vera, may you rest in peace; can’t hold a candle to Dani Clayton.”

“It’s because I made one of your childhood dreams come true, isn’t it.”

“Hm,” Jamie muses, “proud of that one, are you?”

“Just a little.”

“It’s wonderful, love,” Jamie speaks softly, raking easy fingers through Dani’s hair. “Promise.” A pause. Her hand freezes for a moment, then resumes its steady path. “No one…ah, no one’s done anything like this for me before.”

Jamie’s life thus far has been far from perfect, as Dani knows from the pieces Jamie has shared. Bouncing from home to home as a child and landing in with the wrong crowd. A life in which stability and consistency did not exist, in which Jamie came to learn that companionship--love--is conditional and hinges upon her ability to provide. At the first sign that she could not be serviceable, in some way or another, she was cast aside.

She learned to work with her hands. Plants cannot reject you, after all, and there are always cracks to be patched, leaky faucets to be repaired. To some, the work might feel tedious, but to Jamie, the monotony feels safe, providing her a sense of immutability in an otherwise turbulent life.

And, as Jamie tells it, three years into her residence at Bly, a goddamn American started traipsing about the garden, and everything went to shit.

More or less.

Dani thoroughly wraps herself around Jamie’s middle, eliminating any space that existed between them. Words fail her, but she hopes her message resonates all the same.

Things are different, now.

***

When they eventually untangle themselves, it’s in favor of washing away the grime of travel with a hot shower. Dani unpacks as Jamie steps under the spray, rejecting the proposal to join, on account of one of them should make sure they’re on time for dinner.

They’re still almost late, though, neither realizing that the barn they’d seen that afternoon doubled as the formal dining room, and they stumble in just in time to settle at a small table in the back of the packed hall.

“Didn’t realize this was dinner and a show,” Jamie comments, observing the raised platform at the front of the room.

“So, there may have been another reason I picked this place,” Dani explains in a whisper, so as not to irk the other patrons seated nearby. “They have this Christmas Eve tradition I read about in one of the travel books and--”

Music echoes through the space from a small pit orchestra set up to the side, and a spotlight illuminates the stage, where two figures are hidden by pale blue fans.

“They may, or may not,” Dani winces, face screwing up into a weak grimace, “kind of, invite local performance groups to do songs from the movie?” She bites her lip, peering at Jamie through one eye.

Jamie, for her part, appears equal parts enthralled and perturbed. “Gotta hand it to you, Poppins,” she says, mouth slightly agape, “You know how to keep to a theme.”

Dani likes to think she hadn’t been chair of the prom committee in high school for nothing. “I really hope you don’t absolutely hate this movie, or this will be a very awkward dinner.”

“Wasn’t one of my favorites,” Jamie admits, leaning in, “but it certainly is now.” Under the cover of the tablecloth, she grips Dani’s hand and gives a discrete squeeze, Dani relaxing at her touch. “It’s very sweet,” Jamie murmurs, amused. The silver chain resting around her neck reflects the stage light as she turns her head. The number draws to a close, met with enthusiastic whooping from the jovially intoxicated crowd.

A server delivers two plates, starter salads, to their table, jotting down polite requests for main courses and alcoholic beverages.

By the finale number, Dani is warm and a bit wine-drunk. Her chair has migrated, over the course of the evening, to perch mere inches from Jamie’s. The gardener’s fingers move with the melody, eyes closed, an easy smile on her lips. She hums under her breath to match the vocalist crooning into the microphone. Dani commits the sight to memory. Jamie, here, draped in flickering shadows, untroubled by good intentions, chores that ought to be done, single-sided debts to be paid to no one and everyone. She is utterly beautiful. And Dani is utterly smitten.

Perhaps it is the wine. Perhaps it is the security provided conveniently by the position of their tucked-away table. Dani parts the tablecloth and traces down Jamie’s slender wrist, their fingers slotting together like a key in a lock. She presses the briefest of kisses to Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie’s thumb runs over Dani’s knuckle.

The antique oil lamps lining the walls glimmer warmly, and the final verse of the reimagined Irving Berlin classic fades into applause.

It is snowing lightly when they wander back to the main building and into their room, faces flushed from the chill. Dani giggles, squirming away from Jamie pushing a cold nose into her neck. Jamie chases her, pins her to the door with a sound kiss. Dani cups the nape of her neck, holding her close. The flurries melted into her hair are cool against Dani’s palm.

“Good night?” Dani asks, pressing their foreheads together.

“Mm,” Jamie puffs against her lips, nuzzling closer “was perfectly splendid.”

“Was it, now?” Dani ribs coyly.

Jamie pulls back just far enough to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. “Dani,” her voice is insistent, sincere, “thank you.”

Dani feels herself blush under the intensity of Jamie’s stare.

“I mean it.” Jamie’s index finger curls pointedly under Dani’s chin, tilting her head up, and something pulls low in Dani’s gut. “Thank you.”

Her lips are soft, pliant beneath Dani’s, speaking volumes in the silence. The snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the earth in mysticism the way only a new snow can. In here, though, the air burns.

They break apart at their lungs’ insistence, chests heaving in unison, but they do not stray far, choosing instead to stay, wrapped up in each other, neither willing to allow the moment to pass. Jamie smells faintly of smoke and the inn’s shampoo. Her sweater stretches slightly in Dani’s insistent hands.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any mince pie and whiskey stashed away?” Jamie nods to the fireplace, lips kiss-swollen and hair mussed.

Dani pauses, a little taken aback, and feeling a bit like someone’s just doused her in icy water. “Do I have...what?”

“Have you got any mince pie and whiskey?”

A flash of panic shoots through her, and she runs through a mental checklist. Is there something she missed? Something Jamie had said?

“Um, should I?”

“What else are you supposed to leave Father Christmas?”

“Milk and cookies?”

“Milk and cookies,” Jamie scoffs in a poor imitation of Dani’s Midwestern accent, “how’s that going to keep a person going all night? Blimey, man’s got to travel ‘round the world, you know.”

“Blimey, must’ve left them in my other suitcase,” Dani laments, outlining the fair curve of Jamie’s collarbone, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin.

“A real shame.” Jamie’s exhale is a note heavier.

Dani hums, “Bet I can make up for it.”

Jamie’s brows rise. “Oh, can you, now?”

“Mhm,” Dani affirms, with a sigh. Before she can go any further, though, her face splits into a yawn, and any semblance of seduction is instantly dashed.

Jamie laughs, stepping away and checking the grandfather clock that stands in the corner of the room. “Half eleven. Ought to get you to bed.” She leans in, with a wink, “Santa won’t come if you’re not asleep.”

“Oh, come on,” Dani says reproachfully, rolling her eyes in a manner not dissimilar to chiding Owen’s god-awful puns. She tugs Jamie toward the wardrobe.

They slip between the sheets a short while later, lying close in the double bed, a perfect mess of legs and arms and contentment.

“‘S after midnight,” Jamie whispers, long after Dani thought her breathing had evened out. “Happy Christmas, love.”

Dani’s heart swells. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

***

Pale sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, coating the wallpaper in a serene glow. It’s rather poetic, Dani thinks, the way the light falls across Jamie’s sleeping face, highlighting the graceful tilt of her cheekbones, the button of her nose. Jamie looks ethereal in the morning, something Dani cannot truthfully claim about herself.

She traces the high arch of Jamie’s brow with her thumb, and the woman’s eyes flutter open. She blinks, adjusting to the feeling of being awake, until her gaze settles upon Dani, propped up on her elbow.

“G’morning, sleepyhead,” Dani coos.

“Been up long?” Jamie asks, voice low and sleep-rough.

“Not long,” Dani replies. “Was getting hungry, though. Thought you might like to see what Santa brought you before breakfast.”

Jamie sits up slowly, a cheeky grin turning up the corners of her lips. “As though waking up next to you isn’t enough?”

“Sweet-talker,” Dani says, nudging her, “It’s small, I promise.” She rolls out of bed, grimacing when her bare feet make contact with chilly wood. She rummages through her backpack, the one Jamie knows not to investigate, and emerges with a small, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. A red bow is stuck to the top, a little squished, but thankfully still intact. Dani crosses her legs on the bed.

“Now, hold on.” Jamie reaches for her rucksack, pulling out a newspaper-covered object. She sets it on the bed. If Dani didn’t know any better, she would think Jamie seems, almost, embarrassed. “Not much experience by way of gift-giving, I’m afraid.” She wrings her hands in her lap.

“Hey,” Dani soothes, “like you said. I’m happy just being with you, okay?”

Jamie gives her a small smile. She huffs, “Look at me, being all gloomy on Christmas morning. C’mon then, open it up.”

Dani picks at the newsprint, unfolding each section delicately, deliberately. As she peels away the final layer, in her hands, she holds a small camera and a few rolls of film. She looks to Jamie, who studies her carefully, gauging Dani’s reaction.

“Might be silly, but I thought, you know, all this traveling, might be nice to collect a few momentos. Have something to look back on a few years down the line.”

Years. Years. Years. Dani allows herself to imagine them, together, somewhere, anywhere, on a couch, years from now, turning the pages of a photo album.

Yes, she decides, years.

She must have some kind of expression on her face, because Jamie speaks. “Alright, there?” She says it casually, lightly, but underlying the words is a pool of worry. Worry that Jamie has overstepped, that she’s made a mistake, that Dani will cast her aside.

“Years,” Dani says. “Years,” she repeats, high-pitched and carefree. She captures Jamie’s lips in a kiss, a celebration of time gone by, a promise of time yet to come.

“Take it you like it, then?”

Yes, Dani wants to scream, God, yes. You’ve given me the future and there are not enough words in the world to explain how I feel about you.

She settles, instead, for inserting a roll of film and bringing the viewfinder to eye level, the lens pointed at Jamie, who still wears a small smile. She is illuminated by a halo of sunlight, catching wayward hairs in its rays. The shutter clicks, and it’s loud in the stillness of the morning.

At the confused tilt of Jamie’s head, Dani attempts to clarify. “I wanted,” she explains, sounding only a little strangled, “the first memory to be of you, and me, here. In this moment.” She sighs, “Just us.”

Jamie’s face softens as she understands. Her hand snakes around Dani’s head, and she pulls her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, your turn,” Dani decrees, when they separate, and Jamie accepts the offered gift. “Not as exciting as a camera, but I hope you like it.”

“Poppins,” Jamie breathes, staring at the unwrapped item on the bed as if afraid to touch it, “it’s beautiful.”

Dani had found the journal at a craft fair they visited in Chicago. The man said he’d been working with leather for twenty years. The book is bound in green leather, with shimmering gold trim around its border. On the front cover, a leaf, also covered in thin gold foil, is stamped into the material. Dani had been immediately drawn to it.

“I think we had similar ideas,” Dani jokes. “I thought, since you’re always talking to yourself and coming up with new ideas, you might like a place to put everything in that brilliant brain of yours.”

“Feels like I’m saying this a lot lately,” Jamie chuckles, “but thank you, Dani. I love it.”

As if on cue, Dani’s stomach makes itself known, and she cringes.

“Right, how about breakfast?” Jamie inquires.

“I can wait,” Dani says, “The dining room closes at ten.” She glances at the clock. “We’ve got time.”

“For what?”

Jamie catches the mischievous glint in her eye. “Pretty sure I still have to atone for my grievous crime of depriving Santa of whiskey and mince pie. Unless, that is, you’ve decided to let me off the hook?” She gingerly places Jamie’s journal on the bedside table next to her camera.

“Oh, you, my dear,” Jamie all but purrs, punctuating each word with a kiss, “are still very much on the hook.”

***

Breakfast has all but ended by the time they make it downstairs.

Dani decides that cold pancakes have never tasted so good.

22 notes · View notes

nikki-romero · 3 years ago

Text

The Wild Flower (Tomoki Matsuba x OC) Prologue

It was finally the long-awaited moving day. I was moving into an apartment by myself. My dad helped me get the perfect apartment. The negotiations had gone smoothly and it was time to move in. I decided to walk to the new apartment to learn the new neighbourhood better.

My cousin and I had stopped and checked the map we had.

"Hmm, it looks like it's this way." My cousin, Ayame, pointed ahead of us. The pedestrian light turned green. "Come on!" She rushed across the street. With how excited she was getting, you'd think she was the one starting a new chapter of her life, so to speak.

"Wha-! Ayame!" I called after her. I quickly shoved the map into my bag before running after her. She turned around to wait for me, and her eyes widened.

"Hotaru! Watch out!!"

I looked to the side and saw a white limo heading towards me. I gasped but managed to leap out of the way before it could hit me, right into a puddle of ice-cold water.

"Hotaru! Are you alright?!" Ayame came running up to me, panicked.

"Peachy." I looked at my soaked clothing in utter dismay. Just as I was about to get up from the ground, a gentlemanly man dressed in black stepped out of the limo. A butler? I stared dubiously at him as he reached out his hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm great," I replied sarcastically. I had the right of way. I should not have had to escape death so narrowly. And I wasn't about to take his hand either. I shot him a nasty glare as I got up by myself.

"Your clothing... This is my fault. Allow me to make it up to you."

"What the hell was that? Don't you know how to read a road sign? Jesus Christ, you could have killed me!" I scolded him.

"You're right, I am so sorry." He bowed to me. "I'll get you a change of clothes," the man said gently.

"I don't need it," I snapped.

"Please, I insist. I can't leave a beautiful young girl looking like this. For one thing, my employer would be angry with me."

"Hotaru," Ayame whispered, "Maybe you should accept his offer. He looks like he feels really bad."

"You're too nice," I whispered back before turning back towards the butler. "Fine, whatever."

He smiled as he opened the door of the spacious limo and ushered us inside.

"My apologies. I should have stated earlier. My name is Aoi Shirafuji. I'm a butler to the Ichijo family," the butler introduced himself.

I stilled. "Ichijo?" I repeated.

"Oh, you know Mr Ichijo?" Aoi asked, looking somewhat concerned.

"No, I've just heard a lot about the Ichijo Group," I managed to force out. "The amusement parks the company has built is really quite impressive." I forced a smile. Somehow I felt like I just stepped on a landmine.

We arrived at a large and impressive mansion and Aoi took me to a room with a large full-length mirror and closets full of a wide range of clothing. "This way. Choose whichever you like."

The clothes were both my style and my size. It sent unpleasant shivers down my spine; I felt sick.

"Does a girl our age live here?" Ayame mused. I didn't answer. "Hotaru? Hey, are you okay? You seem a little tense." She furrowed her brow.

"Mm," I choked out. I didn't feel particularly eager to talk about it. "I'm... going to get dressed. Would you mind waiting outside?"

"Uh, yes, sure." Ayame knew me too well. She knew I wasn't being myself.

I took a shaky breath. Then another. Another. I took several deep breaths until I felt slightly calmer. I really didn't want to be here. Feeling like I wouldn't explode, I grabbed the first dress I saw off its hanger, not bothering to even look at it.

There was a knock on the door as I finished getting dressed.

"Yes?" I replied though I hadn't finished fastening the hook of the dress yet. It wasn't Aoi who entered the room.

"I'm Tomoki Matsuba. I'm one of the butlers here. I'm here to pick up the garments that require cleaning," the butler said. Bow-tied, black-suited and bespectacled, he exuded a rigidness befitting of a butler.

"Right. My cousin; did she...?"

"She went ahead to the garden," Tomoki responded.

"Oh." I bit my lip. Now what? I couldn't reach the clip on the back of my dress. I took yet another deep breath." Would you mind helping me fasten the hook on my dress? I can't quite reach it," I said.

"Please turn around." I did as he said and turned my back to him. He swiftly fastened the hook at the back of the dress before speaking again. "I'm going to do your laundry. Would you like some tea while you wait?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," I answered.

"This way." I followed Tomoki to the garden where Ayame was already waiting for me. She was sitting at a table, drinking from an elegant tea set.

"Kyo Aizawa. I'm a butler. Would you like anything else to drink?" Yet another butler introduced himself to me.

"The tea will be just fine, thank you," I replied formally as I sat down. Kyo promptly poured tea into the beautiful cup. "Thank you," I smiled up at Kyo once he was done.

"It's an original black tea blend using roses from this garden," he informed me.

"It smells wonderful."

"I recommend first tasting it black." A delicate pattern covered the teacup.

"This is Queen Rose, is it not?" I inquired, inspecting the cup. It suited the garden, but I was too on edge to enjoy it. Kyo didn't look the least bit surprised that I knew that.

"That's correct. It was produced in the early 18th century at the Raines factory." I nodded as I delicately held the cup and took a sip.

"How do you even know that stuff?" Ayame asked me. My only response was a small smile. Ayame cocked an eyebrow at me, inspecting my lips, and then my eyes. She gently placed the cup in its saucer and leaned over the table. "Hotaru?" she lowered her voice so only I can hear.

I shook my head. "Don't."

Ayame frowned but left it at that.

"It's delicious," I said after having tasted the tea, but the truth was I could barely taste anything. Silence fell upon the garden. Kyo didn't seem to be the talkative type as he watched over us. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another butler approaching, a charming smile on his face. This family certainly had a lot of butlers...

"What's the matter? You look so serious," he commented.

"I always look like this," I replied calmly.

"Itsuka Matsuba at your service. You met Tomoki earlier. Last name's the same," he said cheerfully.

"Brothers, I take it?"

"That's right. Now, how would you two like some freshly baked scones?"

"Scones sound nice, don't you think so, Hotaru?" she asked, a little too cheerfully.

"Thank you," I replied. We were stuck here until my clothes got cleaned so we might as well.

"The strawberry jam is made with organic strawberries from our farm, and the clotted cream from milk from our cows." Was that supposed to impress me? Without responding, I cut open the scone and took a small bite.

"It's very delicious," I said before taking another bite. After eating, I elegantly wiped my mouth with a napkin and glanced at my surroundings. The garden was well taken care of. It was filled with gorgeous flowers and the landscape was really quite breathtaking. "You have a lot of pink flowers and roses here," I noted.

"We're growing them for a celebration," Itsuki replied.

"A celebration?"

"It will be our employer's birthday in a month. And his daughter will be introduced to society on the same day," he explained. It took everything I had not to tremble. Not to react in any negative way. I swallowed.

"Is that so? I'm sure she must be wonderful," I said, keeping the bite I was feeling out of my voice.

"She is. A bit of a diamond in the rough. But that'll make training her all the more worth it." I had to keep myself from barking a laugh, and almost faltered.

"Oh? In my experience, I've found that the rough diamonds are far more valuable than refined ones." I flashed him one of my most dazzling smiles. His eyes widened.

"Oh, how do you figure?" he asked.

"I apologise for not being able to put this more delicately, but in this society, I find these 'refined'," I air quoted the word, "diamonds to be little more than sheep." Itsuki didn't hide his shock at my words, and I smirked ever so slightly. "Of course, I don't blame them. They were raised that way. You know, to follow someone else's orders; someone else's plan for their lives. It's been imprinted on them since the moment they were born and it's all they know. Whereas a diamond in the rough, as you put it, is quite rare in high society, but personally, I find it invigorating. It's like a breath of fresh air in an otherwise suffocating world to meet someone who is willing to against the status quo to do what they believe in. You could even say it's like defying gravity, which, in and of itself is already a very impressive feat." I chuckled. "But, what do I know? I'm just a teenager." I didn't fail to notice Ayame's dubious expression directed at me.

Yet another butler walked up to us, holding my freshly cleaned clothes.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," he said. I had to admit, I was taken aback by how attractive he was. But he had a certain vibe that reminded me of my brother, Eisuke, and that usually only spelt bad things. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Yuma Akagi, and I'm the Ichijo family's head butler." Yuma bowed to me.

I smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I would like to apologize for the actions of one of our butlers today," Yuma said.

The corner of my mouth twitched. "I appreciate it. I'm just glad no one was hurt," I added. Yuma nodded.

"Meeting like this was, I think, fate. I hope... that you and I will meet again somewhere." I forced a chuckle as I looked away. If we did, I'd choke all of them. Yuma smiled significantly as he took my hand, then he gently kissed the back of it. The gesture was familiar, but it never got any easier to bear. "You were in the midst of moving. I'll have the limousine take you," he said.

"Thank you," I replied. I quietly watched Yuma give instructions to the other butlers.

After changing my clothes, Ayame and I got into the limo together with Yuma.

Ayame gave me another worried look as she was dropped off. "Hey, um, call me. Okay?"

"Sure." I nodded.

"Again, I am very sorry about today," Yuma said. It seemed like his attention was focused solely on me.

"It's alright."

"How did you find the house?"

"It was gorgeous. Absolutely breath-taking," I replied.

Yuma smiled, brimming with elegance and grace, but I could tell he wasn't actually buying a word I said.

We weren't far from the new apartment when the limousine came to a sudden stop.

"Are you alright?" Yuma's arms were around me, steadying me after the abrupt braking. I felt myself stiffen; my blood ran cold. In a panic, I pushed away from him. "Miss?"

"Sorry, I just don't handle physical contact very well." I shifted uncomfortably.

"I... apologize," Yuma said as he moved away from me. I shook my head.

"It's fine. But is there a problem?" I asked, looking away from him and out the window in an attempt to get rid of the tension in the atmosphere.

"It appears the road narrows up ahead. The car can't continue. This is as far as we can take you," Yuma explained.

"Here is fine. Thanks for bringing me this far."

"Before you go, might I ask how you found our service?" Yuma asked. An odd thing for a butler to ask.

"Oh, your service was superb." I got a sudden idea. "You're definitely on Geo's level."

"Geo?" Yuma asked. The corner of my lips tugged upwards. I got him. Hook, line, and sinker.

"My dad's butler," I replied innocently.

"Your... Dad?"

"Oh! I just realised I never introduced myself. Apologies. I'm just so used to people knowing I am. I'm Hotaru Ichinomiya."

"A pleasure, Miss Ichinomiya." Yuma smiled, but it was forced.

"I know this is probably common knowledge, but my dad, Akira, adopted both me and my brother, Eisuke. You see, my biological father abandoned me and my mother a long time ago."

Yuma's façade almost faltered, and I saw that. I was right; he knew!

"Abandoned?" Yuma asked, almost hesitantly.

"Yep. He didn't even show up for my mother's funeral after she died."

Yuma looked away. "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps there was a reason he couldn't take care of you?"

I leaned back in my seat. "I don't care."

"You... Don't care?" God, how many more times was he going to feel inclined to make me repeat what I said?

"I don't. No excuse he could have would ever be good enough."

"I'm sure he must love you." I could tell Yuma was choosing his words very carefully without divulging too much information.

"You can't love someone you don't know. I've never even met him. Or talked to him. You see, the way I see it, blood doesn't mean anything. Genetic doesn't mean anything. I'll tell you what does mean something though: When I needed a dad, Akira was there. Akira is my dad. And my so-called father was little more than a sperm donor." Yuma almost choked on his words, and I chuckled. "Not the most delicate choice of words, but it's the truth. The thing is, you don't get to be a dad just because you share DNA. He wasn't there when I needed him the most, and he has no right to take up that role now." Yuma was speechless. "But I'm sorry to dump all of that on you like that. That was really silly and unfair of me. Please, forget I said anything." I made a show of giving a nervous laugh.

"Not at all." Yuma knew I was full of it. And I knew he knew that, but he didn't say anything more.

"Well, it's getting dark. I really should be going."

"Of course." He got out of the car before I did and held the door open for me. I bowed politely to him and turned to leave. I was happy to see the moving truck in front of the building when I finally got there.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry I'm so late. I'm Hotaru Ichinomiya."

"We've brought everything inside. Have a great day, Miss." With that, the movers left. I stood still for a moment and frowned. They brought everything inside? I didn't have to guess how they did that. I had a really bad feeling about this. I just hoped to god I was wrong. I inserted my key and unlocked the door.

"Welcome home, Miss Ichinomiya."

I wasn't wrong...

I was unable to hide my disdain as the butlers bowed their heads gracefully. I slammed the door shut behind me. The composure I put so much effort into keeping all day crumbled in an instant. I stared at them, not saying anything.

"We're here to serve you. Starting today." Aoi said. The butlers brought me slippers. I glared at the slippers, then at them, and crossed my arms.

"Well. I wish I could say I'm surprised," I snapped scornfully. I slipped my shoes off, not bothering with the slippers as I walked into the living room and sat down on my sofa. Resting my elbow on the armrest, I pressed my forefinger against my temple and my thumb beneath my chin. "Well go ahead. Give me the whole speech about why you're here."

Itsuki cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Do you remember when I mentioned our employer's daughter?" he asked.

"Uh-huh."

"That girl..." Itsuki started, only to have his sentence finished by Tomoki.

"... is you." I didn't respond. "But... you already knew that."

"And that surprises you, how? I have the power, money and resources to do just about anything. You really think I'd go through life being oblivious and naïve without looking into who my father is?"

"You're going to be a sophisticated woman by the time of our employer's birthday," Kyo said. Sophisticated. I could socialise quite well in and I knew how to conduct myself, but there were many in high society who would argue that I wasn't quite "sophisticated" or "traditional" enough. Men in high society liked controlling everything, and I had a reputation for going against the tide. But I've never been bothered by that before and I wasn't about to start now.

"Right. Your employer, Kazuma Ichijo. My so-called father."

"Yes." Aoi smiled. I bet women were putty in his hands with that smile. The stupid ones anyway.

I didn't say anything, and the tension in the air grew ever more palpable. I didn't take my eyes off the butlers either.

As the glaring continued, the front door opened and Mr Head Butler walked in.

"Why, hello there, Miss Ichinomiya," Yuma grinned as he unceremoniously locked the door.

"Oh, great. The cavalry's here," I said sarcastically.

"Yuma, she knows," Aoi said.

Yuma grinned. It was a sinister grin; the same one Eisuke got whenever he was plotting something. "I figured as much. Everything you said in the limo... You knew all along who Mr Ichijo is."

"What did she say in the limo?" Itsuki asked, curiously.

I snorted. "Believe me, if I'd known you were Ichijo butlers before I got in that limo, I never would have accepted your half-assed offer. But then again, something tells me whether I accepted it or not, we'd still all be here right now."

"Enough. I cannot allow and Ichijo to utter such vulgar words," Tomoki said with a scowl.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Oh yes? Try and stop me, four-eyes."

His scowl turned into an expression of both shock and offence.

"Well as fun as this has been, everybody out. Before I report you for break in and entering."

"I didn't expect you'd treat us like crooks. Not when you're the one violating your lease." Yuma held out a piece of paper.

I snatched the paper from his hand and skimmed through the contract until my eyes stopped at a particular 'special feature'. "Personal butler?" I read out loud. And right at the bottom was Akira's signature. My dad wasn't stupid. No way would he have signed this without checking every detail and have the family lawyer go over it for emphasis. Which could only mean he knew about this and didn't tell me.

"We had you come to the house to make the idea more palatable," Aoi said.

"Yes, yes. You set me up. I figured that out hours ago." I got up. "I don't believe this," I mumbled as I grabbed my phone and went into my room. I slammed the door shut and furiously dialled my dad's number.

"Yes?" He didn't look at the caller ID before answering.

"Hi, Dad. It's me," I said in a voice so sweet it sounded sickening even to me.

"Hotaru! I was going to call you in the morning. Have you settled in?" he asked.

"Yes, about that... Did the lease for my new apartment perhaps come with a tiny detail you forgot to mention?" I spoke through clenched teeth.

"The lease?" Akira remained silent for a few moments as he thought. "Oh! You must be talking about the butler service. It was a special they had just for your apartment. I figured having a butler would make your life a little easier."

My eyebrow twitched as I closed my eyes in exasperation. "So you did know about it."

"Of course. You think I'd sign something like that without thoroughly checking every word on it?"

"And you didn't think to warn me about it?" I breathed.

Akira paused. "You're upset..."

"Damn right I'm upset! Dad, you've been duped!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Those butlers! I wouldn't be surprised if they disguised themselves as real estate agents. They probably played on your worry as my dad, too."

"Hotaru, you're not making any sense."

"They're Ichijo butlers! They orchestrated this whole thing! The apartment, the lease, the butler service. All of it! All so they could, and I quote, 'turn me into a sophisticated woman' for his birthday party."

I heard Akira breathe hard over the receiver in an attempt to maintain his composure. "I'm calling Yuzuru."

"What's he going to do? They're practically untouchable, and not because they work for Ichijo. They planned everything to the finest detail and slipped through all the right loopholes. Everything on the lease is legal and you knew about the butler service when you signed it, so we can't even sue them for not explaining certain details on the contract. There's nothing we can do."

Akira paused. "You're right. But there's nothing on the lease about you following their rules. No conditions about you taking any kind of lessons from them. I doubt I need to tell you this, but you don't dance to the sound of their pipes. You dance to yours."

I smirked, relaxing a bit. "You know it, Daddy."

"Good. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Love you, too."

I took a deep breath before opening my door. Of course they were still there, and they likely heard every word I said to my dad, too. I took one annoyed look at them and moved to the kitchen.

"All sorted out?" Yuma asked sarcastically as he followed me into the kitchen.

"Why bother asking when you heard my entire conversation," I retorted.

There was a moment of silence before Yuma doubled over with laughter.

"I think this will be very interesting indeed," he said as he looked at me with amusement.

I didn't bother responding as I put the kettle on; nothing good could possibly come from interacting with him. I turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

Yuma's sinister smile returned. I raised my eyebrows in a motion for him to get to the point.

"All you have to do is accept our training on behalf of our dear employer. It's only a month," Itsuki said.

My eyes flitted to him. "No," I said flatly before turning my back to them.

"You had etiquette lessons, but we need to make doubly sure you didn't miss anything. Not to mention kick that flighty nature of yours. Otherwise, you'd just be an embarrassment," Yuma replied with a broad smile.

I barked a laugh. "Wow. That is just hilarious." I turned back to him. "I already told you how I feel about him. And I know you know I meant every word. But just in case you're still processing, allow me to break it down for you. I can barely stomach the thought of breathing the same air as your oh-so-wonderful employer. He can go fuck himself for all I care. And you would be damn lucky if I decided not to embarrass him and his company on purpose, which, by the way, I'm still undecided on." Tomoki opened his mouth to say something. I pointed my finger at him without looking at him. "You say one word about my language, I swear to god I will punch you."

Yuma sighed, exasperated. "How you feel about him doesn't matter. We made a promise to him and we intend to keep it."

I snorted. "Good luck with that." I turned back to the now boiled kettle and prepared some camomile tea. God knows I needed it.

"Alright, it's time you choose," Yuma said. I could hear the amused smirk in his voice.

"Oh, I get a choice, do I?" I retorted.

"Who would you like to be your butler?" Aoi asked.

Next Chapter

#tomoki #tomokimatsuba #butleruntilmidnight #voltageinc #otome #visualnovel #romance #crossover #ichinomiya

2 notes · View notes

janicho88 · 4 years ago

Text

In This Together Part 3

Pairing- Dean x Wife!Reader

Word count- 5821

Summary-Find out what these two have been up to for the last year. What obstacles are thrown at these two now?

Warnings- Possible sick reader, hospital/doctors, little language, little angst, fluff, implied smut, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy.

A/N-This is the third part of my first fic. It started as a oneshot but turned into more. The first part of this story was written, because I needed someone like Dean at the time. This miniseries I guess you can call it, is very personal to me. I’ve lived a majority of the first two parts. If you’ve read it you can see why I wanted someone like Dean to lean on. In this part I wanted to give the reader something I don’t know if I’ll ever have. Thank you for reading! Pictures found on google.

Part 1 Part 2

11 months later August 2021

Slowly opening your eyes back up, you were staring out the window of your fourth-floor hospital room. This time your window looked over the street below, every time you were on this floor you had a different view. Dean was still sitting in the bed next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder as you thought back on the last year and everything that had happened.

October 2020 came around and your doctor let you go off your birth control. He knew you and Dean were trying, or more not trying to stop anything from happening. You knew nothing would happen right away and didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were also trying to stay positive that nothing was going to go wrong with you again. You were due a win.

You had been back to work for about four months now, there were still some things you were trying to get used to at the new store. Because of the two surgeries you could wear down easily and were mostly five days a week trying to get up to six. You had already rearranged the office and some of the shelves in the kitchen area to make it more efficient, but some of your employees kept moving things on you so you had to redo them. It would take a good year for your foot to be back to normal which was February, but it would never be pain free. As long as it was better than before you were happy.

Halloween was coming close and Sam and Jess invited you over to their house again. Since you and Dean didn’t have any other plans you decided to join them along with Dean’s parents. Jake’s costume this year was an adorably fierce lion.

With things still crazy in the world and covid still around there weren’t many trick or treaters. Unfortunately, this meant more candy for Dean. Being a Saturday night Dean didn’t have to work the next morning. and you went in later on Sundays, so you stayed for a while. After Jake went to bed the guys turned on the, All Saint’s Day, movies Dean loves. They weren’t exactly your favorite so at least he could try and drag Sam into his madness this way. Dean was enjoying his brother being a bit more into Halloween now that he had Jake around. You bid them goodnight just before midnight and took your sugar high husband home, he wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

Thanksgiving was late again this year, so your parents had decided like last year to do their Christmas party the week before Thanksgiving again. Even though you were working less this year you somehow got distracted and got to planning late. This meant the first two and half weeks of the month would be filled with baking. The nice thing about the store you took over was the regular oven it had so you could do some of it there. Although first things first, you had to assemble your as baking list. The night after Halloween you were sitting on the couch with the Hallmark Channel playing its Countdown to Christmas. Computer in front of you with Pinterest pulled up. Dean walked in from the kitchen during a commercial.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you up to? Anything good on?”

“Nine Lives of Christmas, is on. I’m looking..”

“No, Seriously Y/N? It’s the day after Halloween, and you’re watching Christmas movies?”

You turned and glared at him. “One, I have been watching Christmas movies whenever you weren’t around for the last week. Two, you like this one so hush. The guy is a fireman, your missed profession. Three, I’m trying to get into the Christmas mindset to put together my baking list.”

“Oh great, it’s that time of the year again. What crazy ideas are you going to come up with this year, actually wait, let me grab a beer first.”

You laughed as he walked back to the kitchen. Dean might give you a hard time with the Christmas crazy baking list you come up with, but you also know he very much enjoys the sweets you bake. You two had been dating since your freshman year of college and he was always your official taste tester. Although anything pie related was his favorite.

“I think I’m going to just do round sugar cookies again, while I was off after surgery, I watched a cookie decorating class that showed how to paint the frosting with food coloring and alcohol.”

“That sounds like a mess,” you threw a pillow at him. “I mean great Sweetheart, I’m sure they will be amazing.”

“Keep talking Winchester, see how big a hole you can dig. Here’s a recipe for mini pie like cookies, I co”

“Yes!”

“..uld try. Okay, adding to the list https://www.pinterest.com/pin/518406607102183606/

You were bound and determined one year you would get these cupcakes done; just not sure this year would be it. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040748115/

“How about Christmas Cheesecake Cookies?” You showed Dean the picture and this time he glared you. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/174584923040791076/

“Do you remember the red and green Krinkle Cookies you did last year? Your hands were dyed red and green and so was everything you touched while rolling them. I’m voting no more dyed cookie dough.”

“Fine spoilsport.”

“How about you put the computer away and come to bed with me.”

“You’re heading to bed already it’s only, oh. Be right there Babe,” quickly shutting everything off you chased after your husband to the bedroom.

The party was a little smaller this year, some people still weren’t all for getting together with people yet. It was mostly family and some close friends. Honestly, you preferred it that way, less entertaining you and your mom had to do, and the more you could relax and enjoy the night. The best part about having this early, was your baking was now done, you had even gotten Dean to get the decorations out and most of the house was done. You enjoyed cuddling on the couch with the Christmas lights glowing around you.

Thanksgiving was once again split between both of your families. You went to your dad’s mom for a late lunch and spent time with your family. Then headed over to John and Mary’s for well, for Dean dinner, you were still full, so you just picked at a few things. After cleaning you ladies joined the guys in the living room where they were watching the game and supposed to be keeping an eye on Jake. You and Jess talked sales you saw in the ads and tried to get gifts ideas out of Mary for her and John. Like your mom, she wasn’t very helpful and just said you guys didn’t have to get them anything. Usually you and your mom would hit a few stores tonight, but nothing was really open with everything going on. The two of you had planned for the next day to get a few things before you both headed for work. It was nice to spend time with just your mom anyways.

Every year December seems to fly by, it was the second week now and you had been feeling a bit off, and more tired than usual. According to Dean you had become a bit moody too. Which of course you snapped at him when he mentioned that. He’d been watching his step after that. One morning you were taking care of the dogs when you felt sick and had to run to the restroom. You didn’t go into work that day, since you didn’t want to get anyone else sick, but felt fine as the day went on. The next day at work you walked into the cooler and for some reason the dough smelled strong to you and you had to walk back out and get some fresh air. You attributed it to yesterday’s stomachache. Then the burping started again. Donna heard you at work and came over.

“What’s going on lady?”

“Something’s off, I haven’t been feeling well, I started throwing up and the burping restarted.”

“You know what you need to do right?”

“I know, but really Donna, can’t I catch a break. I don’t know how Dean is going to take it if the doctor tells me there is another problem, I don’t know how I’m going to take it.”

“Okay, well before we send you into the operating room again, maybe you should see what the doctor has to say first.”

“That would be the logical thing to do, I prefer worst case scenario.”

That night when you got home from work you told Dean what was going on and when you called your doctor’s office, they actually had an opening on Friday and could get you in then. Dean was unable to go since Benny would be leaving that morning for a weeklong trip to see his wife’s family for an early Christmas.

The day of your appointment arrived, the nurse, Julie that took you back was your cousin’s friend who first introduced you to this doctor. You two chatted on your way back to the room. When you got to the room, she asked what was going on and when your last period was. You explained your symptoms and how you were worried about another mass or fibroid. It had been over a month since your last, but you hadn’t been regular since your surgery and going off birth control. They took a blood and urine sample to send for tests before you saw the doctor. The doctor pushed near your uterus to see if he could feel any bumps around there. He wanted you to get an ultrasound, so that was scheduled for Monday, your labs would be done then also.

It was a quiet weekend for you and Dean. Monday rolled around and your appointment was that afternoon. Dean was supposed to meet you at the hospital, where the doctor’s office was located, but was stuck in a meeting with a new supplier. Since you were there for an ultrasound you were just supposed to see the tech who would do the test, but Julie was the one who came and got you. She took you back to the ultrasound room. When you were back, she told you the test results came back. You left the doctor’s office in a bit of shock after scheduling your next appointment. As you passed the mall on the way home you decided to make a quick stop.

That night during dinner Dean asked you what the doctor had to say. When he called you after your appointment you said you were fine and would talk to him at home you didn’t want to discuss it over the phone.

“I’m going to need follow up appointments for the next few months, but everything is good.”

“If it’s good why do you need follow ups, what aren’t you telling me?”

You got up and went to get the package you picked up from the mall, handing it to Dean you sat back down. He looked at you and back to the wrapped box.

“Open it.”

Ripping open the paper he looked at the open back and back to you. “Wait, what? Really?”

“Yes!”

You told Dean what happened at your appointment. The results came back, and you were pregnant. Because of your history though, the doctor still wanted an ultrasound just to make sure there wasn’t a fibroid or a mass there. They didn’t find any problems; the tech could just make out the embryonic sac the baby would be growing in. They figured you were around 5 weeks, and due around August 14th. Dean jumped up and grabbed you in his arms, tears were gathering in his eyes, he was so happy.

Later that night you were laying with Dean on the couch and he was going through his phone.

“Hey, the baby is about the size of an apple seed right now. An apple seed, that’s smaller than my fingernail!”

You looked over at his phone and saw he was going through baby sites. “Yes, that is tiny.”

“I can’t wait to see them in the activity walker car, they are going to love it like Jake does.”

“Dean, honey, you know we still have like 8 months till the baby is here, and then they aren’t going to be able to use that right away, right?”

“Yeah, well they still will one day.” He learned closer to your stomach, “right little on, can’t wait to play in the car walker daddy got you.” You had tears in your eyes watching Dean talk to your baby, you had been so afraid this day would never come.

Wiping your eyes, “I thought you said you bought that for Jake?” Knowing that was his excuse at the time, hoping one day it would by your child playing in it.

“Well, I, um,”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it.”

Sitting in the hospital bed you looked down at the little one in your arms, and still couldn’t believe how lucky you and Dean were to be here. Your mind went back to last year’s Holidays, and what happened after you found out you were pregnant.

The two of you debated on telling anyone about the baby yet, since it was early. As excited as Dean was you didn’t know how long he could keep the secret. You would only be seven weeks along at Christmas but decided to tell everyone Christmas Eve at your parents. You were going to tell them like you told Dean. You found some grandparent gifts for them to open. Since Sam had Jake it would be John and Mary’s second grandchild, but your parents first.

While playing games after dinner on Christmas Eve, you and Dean rigged a team game that had your parents all winning. Handing each of them the gifts you picked up Dean grabbed the camera to record their reactions. It took a minute before it sank in, but everyone was so excited for you. Mary and your mom rushed over to hug you while John and your dad congratulated Dean. The rest of the family joined in after the grandparents.

“The baby is the size of a blueberry now.” Dean proudly told everyone.

The two of you decided to have a quiet New Year’s Eve in. Your parents, Dean’s along with Sam, Jess, and Jake came over for dinner, and games. The guys ended up in the basement watching some competition, while you ladies were watching the New Year’s countdown and talking babies. On a trip upstairs Dean heard the conversation and informed everyone that the baby was now raspberry sized.

You had your 11-week ultrasound the Friday before Dean’s birthday. You scheduled it then because you thought it would be an early birthday treat for him getting to see the baby. They were going to confirm your due date, and there was a chance you would be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Dean looked over at you with a smile when you were walking up and threw his arm around your waist.

“What?”

“You’re starting to show, I can’t wait till I can feel him kick.”

“Remind me when this kid is playing soccer in me, how happy you are about it then.”

He put his arm around your waist as you walked. “Yeah, yeah, come on I can’t wait to see our little prune.”

“I can’t wait till next week, and we’re on a different food.”

Dean was so excited he could barely sit still in the office. They called you back and got you settled in the room before the tech came back to start. She started and was running the wand over your stomach when she found the baby and pointed him out to you. Dean grabbed your hand.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that’s our little one.”

“Yeah.” You both had tears in your eyes.

The tech turned on the volume so you could hear the heartbeat. “There it is, wait a minute.” She was moving the wand again.

“What’s going on?” You worriedly asked.

“There’s another heartbeat. Here, we have a shy one.”

Looking at the screen you saw another tiny dot.

“Wait, are you saying?” You looked over at Dean and he was looking at the screen it hadn’t hit him yet.

“Congrats, you’re having twins!”

“Wwwhat?” Dean finally tuned into the conversation.

“Happy Birthday weekend dad, you’re getting two babies!” Dean’s look of shock wasn’t one you would be forgetting anytime soon.

Leaving the doctor’s office, you both were a mix of shock, nerves and excitement. It was hard to tell which one was winning out right now. You had the family over to the house for Dean’s birthday on Sunday and you let him share the news with everyone. You also decided it was time to tell the rest of your friends.

You moved your gaze from the tiny bundle in your arms to Dean staring down at the tiny swaddled baby in his. Someone had Daddy completely wrapped around his finger. Sensing you watching him he looked up with a smile on his face. “Sweetheart, I can’t believe our babies are finally here, I can actually hold them and see them when I talk. You did so good,” he told you leaning over to kiss you. Dean had been constantly talking to the babies and trying to feel them kick before they were born. Ever since you got back to your room and the twins were brought in, he had one in his arms at all times, relishing in the fact he now could.

Dean wanted to go all out for Valentine’s Day this year. He said it was the last one with just the two of you, and last year it had been a week after your first surgery, so you just stayed home. Thankfully, you had a dress that had been fairly lose on you before, so you didn’t have to go find something new. Dean had reservations at a nice restaurant in town, where you enjoyed each other’s company and the food. You were beat by the end of dinner and headed home to cuddle on the couch. Dean was rubbing your stomach and talking to the babies while you watched a movie, you were running your hand through his hair.

“How are my babies doing tonight? Did you enjoy the nice dinner I took your mommy to? I can’t wait till I can meet you guys. A few more months, you have some growing to do. You guys are 14 weeks, that means you’re as big as lemons now. You would fit in the palm of my hand.”

The next month went by fairly quickly, both you and Dean busy with work. There were things around the house that would need to be done to get ready for the birth of the twins. It seemed like Dean was quickly lessoning what we would let you do without help so you wanted to get started soon before he had you completely sidelined. You had decided to turn your guest room into the nursery and move the spare bed into the office neither of you really used. You cleaned out some of the lighter things because you knew Dean would freak out on you if you moved anything heavy. One night you went through Pinterest looking for different ideas for the nursery before you rushed ahead with anything.

March 16th was your 6th wedding anniversary; you suggested a quiet night at home. Dean vetoed that since you stayed home last year, again because of you. He booked you a weekend stay at a bed and breakfast a little over an hour away near the beach. Being March, it was too cold to get in the water, but you spent time exploring the quaint little town and its cute shops. While you were walking the beach at sunset your first night you stopped to admire the view and Dean stood behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“I love you so much, Sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Babe. Thank you for doing this.”

“You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, you have always been so good to me, and you’re going to be such an amazing dad. These babies are lucky to have you.”

“I love spending time just the two of us, but I can’t wait to meet these sweet potatoes.”

“Really Dean?”

“What that’s what the website says for 18 weeks.”

The rest of the weekend went very well, the highlight would have to be the last walk on the beach you and Dean took before you headed home. When you had stopped and were looking out over the water you felt a flutter in your stomach, and a few minutes later another faint one. That’s when you realized it was the babies moving. You told Dean and he kept moving his hand around to try and feel it too but was unable. He was still excited because it meant he would be able to soon.

Easter was the first weekend in April, you split your time between your two families. Sam and Jess hosted this year. While you and Mary kept Jake busy the guys hid Easter eggs around the yard for him to try and find. There were only about ten, but it still took him a little while. He was more interested in playing with the colorful plastic egg then finding the next one. Dean stood beside you while Jess was helping Jake. His hand was on your stomach when he suddenly pulled it back.

“What was, wait was that?”

“Yeah, that was one of the babies kicking.”

“So awesome! I can’t wait till we are out there helping ours find eggs, take their first steps, holding them.”

“I think your order was a little backwards, but I know how you feel, Dean.”

You had a surprise to share with both of your families. A few days earlier you had gone for you third ultrasound. Since you already had the surprise of twins you decided to find out the genders. While you were sitting around talking after dinner you let Dean tell his family, you had told your earlier in the day. Jake was sitting in his lap when he started talking.

“Hey buddy, do you know how big your cousins are now?” Jake didn’t understand and just looked at his uncle. “They are the size of pomegranates.”

“Dean, Babe, he’s not even two yet, he doesn’t know what that is.”

“He’s Sam’s kid. Sam eats all kids of healthy shi.. stuff. I’m sure he has those around the house.” Sam just shook his head and glared at his brother.

“Do you think you want a girl or boy cousin to play with?”

Mary was looking between the two of wondering if this conversation was going where she thought. Jake never answered Dean no matter what he did to try and pull something out of him.

“How about one of each, what do you think about that?”

“Is that one you’re having?” Mary asked not being able to wait for any more of Dean’s game.

“Yep, we are having a boy and a girl.” Dean grinned proudly.

“Oh man,” Sam started, “a little girl is going to have you so wrapped around her finger.” They all congratulated you and Dean once more.

It was the second weekend in May and you really needed to get going on finishing the nursery or starting it. Who would have thought the hardest part was going to be picking a theme you and Dean could both agree on.

“Come on Y/N, what’s wrong with that idea?”

“Dean, I’m not letting your obsession with scaring your brother using clowns scar our children with a clown themed nursery. Not going to happen Winchester.” The mobile and matching blanket he found even creeped you out a little.

“How about race cars? No, I got it! Let’s paint Baby on a wall!”

“Um, nice thought. We were trying to keep it neutral remember? How about when they get older, and this little guy can appreciate cars almost as much as his daddy, you can do a car theme. Who exactly is going to paint Baby, or did you suddenly become Picasso?”

“I didn’t get to who was going to paint it yet in my planning. Fine we can do cars down the road. Where are your ideas?”

“You have already shot them down, you didn’t want to paint the chevron lines, the silver and blue was to girly.” You just shook your head and went back to looking. This was going just as well as picking out names.

Dean looked over at what you had pulled up. “I like that color.”

“Seriously?”

“What, I can’t like that?”

“No, I was asking do you seriously like it, because I do too?”

“Well we like it, but how about my little rutabagas?”

“Really Dean? Do you even know what that is?” mumbling something he turned back to his phone; you wouldn’t be surprised if he was looking up rutabagas. On the plus side you finally had the nursery plans worked out.

Jess, Mary and your mom threw you a baby shower the first weekend in June you were about 30 weeks now. They had the party at your parent’s house, this worked out nice for you since you lived closest to them and it would be easy to take things home. Dean and the guys could hang out at your house since they didn’t want to attend the party the whole time. Jake was almost 2 and very interested in the presents on the table. You all had to keep him from trying to climb up there. It was a great couple hours playing games and spending time with family and friends. Babies Winchester were spoiled greatly!

Dean did come down toward the end, you’re pretty sure though he just wanted food. You excitedly showed him the wonderful gifts people gave the babies and you. He eagerly described the nursery, told people how fast the baby was growing, and how they were now as big as cucumbers.

Your birthday was a few weeks later, and at 32 weeks you weren’t up to doing much for it. Your families came over to the house for dinner. Your parents and Mary had been around and helped with different projects in the nursery. John, Sam, Jess and your brother on the other hand hadn’t been over in a while, so they had not seen the nursey. Dean was eager to show them all

“This is where my little squashes will sleep.”

Jess looked at Dean and laughed, “It’s cute that you think they are going to sleep Dean.”

The majority of the nursery was done now. You had gone with the soft aqua color you both liked, along with white furniture and trim. You had gone with light grey and white chevron curtains and pillows to accent it, along with soft grey carpet.

The Winchester’s always did a big 4th of July BBQ, this year was no exception. Ever since Sam and Jess got married you rotated hosting it between the three of you. This year should have been yours and Deans’ but since you were 34 weeks along Mary graciously told you they would have it. The doctor had told you to really start taking things easier, so you were trying not to overdo it. Mary didn’t let you help much in getting ready for the party, but you did busy yourself in the kitchen at home making a few desserts and Dean’s favorite pasta salad. You were thankful for them taking over you hadn’t been getting much sleep and wouldn’t have had the energy to get everything done you would have wanted.

Dean was manning the grill talking with Sam, Cass, and Benny when you walked over to join him. You could hear him talking as you got closer.

“Right now they are about the size of butternut squash, although they could be slightly smaller cause it’s twins.”

“I could have sworn you called them squash a few weeks ago, or was that a nickname for them?” Sam asked his brother.

“A few weeks ago, they were squash, now they are butternut squash.”

“I wasn’t aware there were different squashes,” Benny added.

“You know Dean for someone with an aversion to vegetables I’m surprised by the number of them you have called your kids.” Sam teased his brother with a laugh.

“What will they be when they are born,” Cas asked.

“Babies, Cas, they will be babies.” Dean shook his head at his brother and friends catching sight of you waddling over. “And there is my beautiful wife, and mom to be.” Dean leaned down and gave you a kiss while his hand went to your stomach.

Night came and you were heading back to you seat next to Dean to watch the fireworks. When the first ones lit up the sky you could feel both babies start to kick, apparently, they were as big of fans as their dad. Dean moved you around on the bench so he was sitting behind you and could have his arms around you. When he felt the babies kick, he moved his hands around and started talking to them calming them right down. The last few weeks whenever they were really active at night Dean’s touch and voice were the only thing that would get them to settle down so you could get a little sleep.

They figured your due date was around August 14th, but since you were having twins, they would most likely be early. Because of your previous surgeries the doctor wanted you to have a C-section to avoid any issues. It wasn’t what you really wanted, but it was what was best. They scheduled that tentatively for Friday August 7th unless the babies had other plans. Which they did. You were laying on the couch Monday morning with some heat on your back to help with the pain you were having while Dean was getting ready for work. Just before Dean walked out you started to feel some cramping. You were fairly certain you were in labor now. Dean actually took it much calmer than you thought he would. He called the doctor’s office while you went to shower and change. When you came back, he had both you bag and the babies in the car, and called Benny to tell him he would need to handle the shop today.

Once you go to the hospital things were a bit of a blur. They checked you in, took you to a room to exam you and prep for surgery. Dean disappeared at one point and came back dressed in scrubs. Before you knew it, they were taking you back to the operating room Dean right beside you the whole time.

“It’s time to meet our pumpkins Sweetheart.”

You just looked over to him and laughed.

“It’s the last time I can say that.”

“I know Dean let’s go meet our pumpkins.” Dean smiled widely at you as you headed down the hall.

Dean was holding your hand and trying to keep you calm when the doctor asked if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. He did and came back to standing next to you with tears in his eyes as he watched a nurse take your screaming son. The doctor went back to work to get your little girl and Dean once again cut the cord. He was pushed out of the way quickly because she wasn’t breathing. The nurse who brought your son over said that could happen with C-sections and she should be fine. It seemed longer than the few minutes it really was before you and Dean heard her little cries fill up the room, both of you letting out a sigh of relief.

After recovering you were finally in your room with Dean and both of your babies. Your families were here and waiting for your okay to come meet the newest members. Dean proudly introducing the babies to the rest of the family.

“I would like you all to meet Patrick John and Sophia Allison. You spent a few days in the hospital Dean right beside you the entire time.

After everyone left your little family alone Dean sat down next to you on the bed holding Sophia, while you held Patrick. The two of you both lost in your own thoughts and the babies in your arms before you looked over to him drawing his attention to you.

Once you arrived home your mom and Mary took turns coming over to see if they could help you or just let you get some sleep. Dean had to go back to the shop but tried to be home as much as possible.

The twins were two months old and not sleeping well through the night which was leaving you and Dean exhausted. You were both working during the day, and the twins were waking each other up at night which had the two of you getting up each taking one of the babies. You told Dean that you would get up and he could sleep, but he just kissed you as he walked by saying you were in this together no matter what. One night you had finally got them calmed down early and both of you sank down on the couch. Dean asked if you wanted to watch anything on TV.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could follow along on anything right now, but the back of my eye lids. How about we head to bed before the little monsters wake us up?”

“Knew I married a smart woman.”

Just as you settled into bed you heard Patrick start crying, and then Sophia joined in.

“Seriously.” Dean grumbled.

As you were trying to calm both babies down Dean was playing on his phone. All of a sudden you head Samuel L Jackson voice reading Go the Fuck to Sleep. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cb0t9TUNLpg

“Seriously Dean?”

“What? They can’t understand and I completely agree with it.”

Much to your surprise the twins were starting to doze back off. If this actually worked, you weren’t sure if Dean would let you hear the end of it. This was the quickest they calmed down for you, and also the start of hearing this every night for the next four months.

Things weren’t always perfect, but they were perfect for you. You had an incredible husband who always supported you and two wonderful kids who would keep you both on your toes. No matter what happened good or bad you and Dean were in this together.

Thank you for reading! For now this store is complete.

Tag list @talesmaniac89 @deanwanddamons @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @katehuntington @malfoysqueen14 @anathewierdo @superfanficnatural @akshi8278 @sandlee44

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester

85 notes · View notes