#my dad is making us stand in line for the new apple phone i hate having q tech dad its like. 90 DEGREES OUTSIDE ANS IM HUBGRY:(

[radio-frequencies]

YIPPEE!!

THIS FUCKED-IP POLYCULE IS OFFICIAL!!

-ConKirby

“MHM!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!”

He looks so happy!!!!!

[bonny-kookoo]

Mean (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️✴️🔞

💸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💸 Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut

💸 Warnings: bad language aka cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of illegal business, manhandling and not the nice kind, tsundere Jungkook, it’s not like he likes you duh, guns, description of violence, restriction of movement and not in a kinky way, protected sex because dude he’s got one kid okay that’s enough, unconventional romance, choking, near death experience, angst did I mention angst

💸 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize to anyone I might dissapoint with this. I've changed up the story concept numerous times- and the first trailer is in no way a proper teaser anymore, since it has nothing to do with this story anymore. I somehow hope you still enjoy the story however. If not- I hope you'll stick around for future content!

Taglist: @drumsofheaven @yzkyzkuniverse @strwberrybtch @kirbykook @teresaisla @park-hera-gi @justzeera @taestannie @bambuzlee (there were several people I couldn’t tag- I’m sorry about that!) 

Jeon Jungkook was facing his worst enemy.

Now, considering his work and all those rumors going on about him, this could be anything really; from an entire army storming his house, to readying himself for waterboarding. But no, this enemy he was currently standing across from was way more vile and difficult to get under control. The situation was slowly growing desperate on his side- this was a life and death situation.

"Mina, come on now." Jungkook pleaded as the toddler vehemently refused to raise her arms properly so he could slip on her dress for the day. He could understand her, to an extend- he wasn't a morning person either, but he had to overcome this in order to be successful- and she had to as well.

Well, success was not really that important at her age, but getting her to daycare definitely was.

"Mina I have a meeting soon and if you continue to be a brat I can't send you off again properly." He tried, knowing how much she hated him leaving in a rush like usually. He'd promised her the day prior as he'd tucked her into bed that he would, this time, at least stay until her friends had arrived, yet he couldn't have known that this situation would occur the next morning.

Sometimes being a single father was way worse than anything he was facing at his actual job.

"There we go!" He cheered as she finally caved in, pouting a bit before she giggled at the silly face her father was making in order to get her to smile. He hated sending her off in a foul mood, knowing that she could be an absolute devil's child if she felt like it. In a way, she was very similar to him, which was to be expected with her mother not being in the picture. He didn't mind it much, however- a cheating spouse was not really what he wanted by his side, if he was being entirely honest with himself. It was enough already knowing that almost all of his 'friends' and 'business partners' were shameless liars. He didn't need to live and raise a child with one as well.

"Tiger!" The young girl cheerfully exclaimed, as the both made their way into the kitchen. It wasn't just a random comment from her side, because her chubby hand already pointed at the cereal box designed with colorful images on the counter, way too high for her but perfectly reachable for her father as he chuckled, balancing her on his hip as he prepared a small bowl for her.

"No funny business though, young lady." He said, as he sat down with her at the table. "We don't have to hurry, but we can't waste time either." He explained, as he watched her eat her breakfast with a concentrated face. He smiled at the picture, sometimes wishing this would be how his days would always start. Sadly, that wasn't the case- most of the times really, her nanny took her to daycare.

Which was another problem.

Her nanny had recently filed in for her termination, her age getting to her as she finally made the decision to settle down for her last years of life, she'd said. He accepted it without much resistance, having build too much respect for the elderly woman over the course of time by now. It left him with a gaping hole however, one that he knew he needed to fill.

But with who?

He couldn't just hire anybody for Mina at this point in his life. People needed to be fully trustworthy to be even given knowledge of his child at all. Most didn't even know she existed- the public unaware of her relation to him. He kept the facade up that she was merely the child of a close friend, just to keep her out of range of any potential enemies he had gathered over time.

His life really wasn't fit for a child at all, but what was he supposed to do?

"Y/N!" A small voice exclaimed behind you, making you look around from where you were cutting apples as the small child appeared.

"Mina!" You answered just as brightly, picking her up as she giggled excitedly. "Did you have breakfast yet?" You asked, as another daycare worker came inside.

"Yeah!" She said, and you looked at her surprised. "Daddy and I had breakfast!" She explained, as you placed her back down onto the ground. "He'ven brought me here today!" She said, and you hummed affirmatively,

"That sounds awesome!" You said, as she beamed up at you. "Why don't you go sit at the table, we're almost having our morning snack. You think you can eat some apples?" You asked, and she proudly nodded, before zooming off, stumbling a bit as she missed the slight gap of the door.

"He didn't come inside." Jenny said, as she watched the little girl sit down next to a boy her age. "I saw that he was sitting in his car, but she got out herself." She explained further, as you continued cutting the apples and making some cuts to have them resemble a bunny. "I swear to god-" She started, as you cut her off.

"We don't know what his life is like, Jenny." You said, as she huffed. "It's not our kid, it's not our life. She isn't unhappy, she's healthy, she's not mistreated. Case closed." You explained further as you discarded the scraps of apple unneeded in the trash, before rinsing the knife you'd used. "I'm not too happy about it either, but we're not her mother." You said, as you dried your hands.

Jenny sighed. "I know, but like-" She said, walking over to you to help you place the banana slices and grapes as well. "She's such a sweet kid. I don't know, but he seems like such a dick honestly. Like, have you heard his phonecall last week?" You snorted. Everyone did at this point.

Mina had had a minor incident, when she'd stumbled and fell. She'd scraped her knee, cried a little, but after a moment everything had been fine again. He however, had been livid upon finding out his daughter had been hurt, even though the scratches didn't even need a bandaid. Even though he'd only been on the phone with your superior, he'd made such a scene out of it that it became like local news around the daycare.

"I still don't know what the fuck that was about." Jenny exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept an eye on the kids in the main room. "Like, yeah, she fell, but nothing happened." She said, and you agreed.

Shrugging, you grabbed some plates and napkins, and looked at Jenny. "Again." You reminded her. "As harsh as it sounds, you know me." Jenny sighed.

"I know."

You took back everything you had said this morning.

This prick had the audacity to keep you waiting for more than two hours now, without reacting to any amount of phonecalls you'd done by now. Mina was almost asleep on your lap, and you were angry to say the least. This was supposed to be your last day of work for a week, you were supposed to be curled up on your couch in nothing but underwear and fluffy socks, hidden by a blanket and eating icecream while watching netflix. You were definitely not supposed to sit here at your daycare until even the janitor was about to go home. "Fuck it." You mumble, carefully balancing the young girl on your hip as you grab your bag and keys.

You wave the janitor and cleaning staff goodbye on their way out, and take out your phone for a bus or subway that could drive close to where Mina's address is- but you notice there is nothing in her jacket written that you could use as one. You instead simply call the number written down for emergencies, and wait as it rings.

once.

twice.

"Hello?"

You are a bit taken aback by the voice on the other line, masculine, but clearly not as old as you'd thought he'd sound. "Uh, yeah, this is Mina's daycare, you mind picking her up these days, or not?" You casually say, Mina moving around a bit as to bring her thumb close to her lips. You internally coo at her.

"Shit! Fuck- I, where are you?" He asks, and you furrow your brows. Where the hell does he think you are, or does he seriously not know where his daughters daycare is? Wait, is that even her father?

"I- listen, am I even talking to her father or who is this?" You ask, and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. This was a bad idea, what if this isnt her dad at all? You could loose your job for this!

"Yeah, yes. Listen I'm gonna send someone to pick her up alright? Should be there in an hour or so." He says as if frustrated, and you scoff, making him question you on the other line as if he was just struck by thunder. "Excuse me?" He says, voice low, but you're not intimitated.

"First of all, I'm not convinced. Second of all, and pardon my french, but are you nuts?! It's already way too late for her to be up, and I've finished my shift hours ago!" You complain, and he clears his throat over the line, clearly unhappy about your lack of understanding.

"Jeon Mina has a small beauty mark underneath her lower lip, she hates strawberries for some reason, and her biggest secret is that she is actually scared of unicorns. There, happy?" He grits out, and you chew on your lip. He was good. "Second of all, Miss." He makes sure to pronounce every word. "You're getting paid to look after my kid. If that's all you want I'm paying you extra for the inconvenience-" Oh boy, there we go.

"If I cared about your stupid money I would've called authorities hours ago, S.I.R." You start, careful to tone your voice down as to not wake her up. "And you know what, thats a great Idea actually! Let me just-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a sound that sounds awfully like a door closing.

"Fuck you, I'm there in 20." He says.

Jeon Jungkook was not too fond of woman.

That much was clear ever since he'd been cheated on and left with a kid, but it had always been like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of them, or didn't like them, it was more like, during his life, woman had been the reason for heartbreak and bad news all along. His mother had been an alcoholic, his dad desperately trying to get her back on track. His sister had been involved into shady business early on, a wild child that would do anything to get on peoples nerves. His aunt, which only ever visited to gain money. Women were bad news.

So his own surprise had been very prominent when he spotted you on the bench with his kid in your arms,her chubby arms clinging onto you like a koala. You seemed to be reading something on your phone, careful not to point the device too close to Mina so she wouldn't be disturbed. You were pretty, he had to admit that, even from far away- and you seemed like a confident person, from what he'd heard over the phone. You suddenly noticed him as he drove a bit closer, car tires crunching the gravel and snow underneath while his headlights shut off, to not blind you both. He stepped out, as you woke Mina up to announce to her that her father had finally arrived.

"Daddy!" She screached sleepily, running towards him with stumbling legs. He picked her up with a smile before he turned around, having every intention to buckle her up in his backseat as you came closer.

"Huh. Mind telling me why I shouldn't inform authorities about this?" You asked, and he huffed out a breath with a roll of his eyes, pulling out his wallet. You simply stood there, arms crossed, not at all fazed by the amount of money he held in front of you- you simply raised your eyebrow. "I mean, if money could talk I'd ask your bills, sure. But that right there isn't an answer." You replied, and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. Why were you being so difficult.

"Okay, how much?" He said, and you suddenly moved, shifted, as if absolutely offended by his offer.

"Do I look like a streetworker to you sir?" You said, and he closed his eyes for a moment, until another car seemed to pull up.

"You're getting picked up." He says, ready to step into his car as you look at him with confusion. "You don't know them?" He asks, and you shake your head, having every intention to check as he notices something familiar peeking out of one of the car windows. As if on autopilot, he rips his passenger side open, pushes you in, and runs to get inside the drivers seat.

There are shots fired, Mina is holding her hands over her ears as she simply stares at you, who is absolutely shell-shocked.

What the hell just happened?

So yeah, that's how you got here-

In a room that looked awfully like the interrogation rooms in your late night netflix crime shows. There was someone sitting in front of you- Mina's father, watching you, like you were going to do anything. But you were as quiet as a mouse, not saying anything.

"So you didn't know them? At all?" He questioned for the second time in the past ten minutes, and you shook your head. "Hard to believe. Then again, why would you ever tell me that your Dad's brother was sentenced to two years for escorting drugs- only getting two years because he snitched." He said, and your eyes widened.

"Okay what the hell-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Oh, I hit a nerve-" But you weren't having it.

"Oh an I'm gonna hit your pretty nose if you don't stop cutting me off!" You said, making him smirk. For some reason, this was quite entertaining to him- the only woman he ever had in here were so keen on keeping up that shy and innocent facade, that you were a breath of fresh air. "Listen, I don't know why you decided to dig up things that happened when I was literally a TODDLER- or how you even got that information - I swear to god I will really break your nose!" You ended as he had tried to speak again, making him chuckle.

If you weren't being held captive after getting your night ruined you might as well would've thought that was pretty hot.

"I was five years old- I had nothing to do with it, and my dad had no contact whatsoever with his brother after what had happened." You explained. "If you can find that, you can also find that I haven't had contact with my family in years either." You said, leaning back, as he spoke.

"I did. Which is quite confusing to me." He said.

You suddenly went stone cold on him. "It really isnt that deep." You said.

"Were you avoiding them?" He asked. "Because of what happened? Or because your dad got involved into something?"

"Because they're dead." You said.

Well. This was something that made him actually stop and think for a second. He did dig into that nasty part of your family, but he never looked further- their death was something he had overlooked. And by your reaction as you said it, the way you said it, he knew that you weren't lying. "Alright." He said. "But you do realize that I can't just let you go like that, right?" He said.

"Figured." You said. "So, should I stand facing against the wall or with my back against it so you can aim better?" You said, and he took a deep breath. Technically, yes, that would be a logical outcome.

"Neither." He said, and you raised your eyebrow. "I have an offering." He said, and your entire body went stiff, arms crossing in front of your chest. A pure sign of whatever he was going to say, your first reaction would be no. "I need a nanny for Mina." He said, and your lips parted, confusion clear on your face.

He almost thought it was kind of cute.

"You what?" You said.

"I need a nanny for Mina." He repeated. "It's a win-win situation for both of us if you think about it. You get to- in a way- keep your job and a bonus in terms of payment, and I will have someone to take care of Mina. And I also don't have to put a bullet into your pretty little head." He said, leaning forward with the last words.

"This isn't really a question, isn't it?" You said, and he laughed.

"You're smart- I like you."

„But that’s not how daddy does it..“ she wonders, as you tie her shoes for her, before looking up into her eyes. She really does resemble her father. Well, a more innocent version, that is.

„Well everyone does it differently.“ you say, well aware that there were numerous ways to tie a simple bow. „Your daddy probably has learned it from someone who does it like he does. I learned it from my dad.“ you explained as you went to pick up her backpack, carrying it for her as she took your hand.

„yours looks prettier tho!“ she exclaimed happily, a skip in her step as she kept looking at her shoes with a smile. You grinned, a sense of pride filling you. „Daddy‘s always looks crooked on one side-„ she said, before a voice broke through the sweet moment.

„You hurt me Princess. You always said they look nice.“ he hummed from his spot in the doorway, leaned on the frame, looking at you with something you could only describe as unsatisfied, while shooting his daughter a smile.

What the hell have you done wrong now?

This had been something going on for months now. Ever since you started working for him as a nanny, Mina had been nothing but a ray of sunshine- but he, he was not even a raincloud. He was the angry grinch miltiplied by a hundred, ready to piss everyone off twenty-five-eight. Somehow everything you did wasn't up to his standards; the way you cooked for Mina, the way you dressed her, hell, even right now with the way you tied a fucking bow.

You really hoped next time he washed his hands, his sleeves would roll down.

"There's an emergency gun underneath the back-" He started as Mina was out of listening-reach.

"I won't use it." You said.

Jungkook had tried to get you trained at least in the basics of guns- but you practically had an allergy to it, refusing to so much as touch one. He didn't quite know what your problem was, but after a while, he had given up on it- simply sending one of his guards with you whenever he could. By now, you were an easy target as well if found alone, so you had joined him in his place, occupying one of the larger guest rooms. He had said that it was to keep an eye on you, but internally, he simply didn't want you to get hurt.

And yeah, at first that was because he didn't trust you, at all- but by now, somehow, you had sneaked your way into his heart, in a way. Even though he himself would always grumpily comment on it, he loved how you made Mina smile and the entire mansion light up. Things felt a little brighter, a little less tense, and a little less lonely with you around. It felt as if you were an actual family.

And that scared the shit out of him, because in no way was he going to fall for his daughters nanny.

And, after all; you hated his guts.

If Jungkook knew the situation you and Mina had gotten yourselves into, you don't know if he would be proud of her or kill you.

Turns out that the guard Jungkook had sent you out with wasn't actually following his orders at all, but words from a different person entirely- you imagined they were highly likely the one's out to shoot you back when you first met the tall mafia boss and father. Now, the only thing they definitely did not get right however, was that you were Mina's mother- and someone Jungkook valued enough to give up his safety. This was true for Mina; the young child was his everything, and he'd cut off his limbs just to know her safe and sound- but you? That was just absolutely stupid. Sure, you've been living together for quite some time now, and he stopped trying to mentally push you down the stairs every morning as well. But there was nothing more than a mild case of friend- and partnership. You weren't being emo; Jungkook had, after all, said it again and again that he had crossed out the dating game. He's got enough trouble with Mina and you, he had said.

Well, seemed like one of those issues would solve itself.

"Again, what're you gonna do?" You say, as Mina looks at you from out of the vents above you had helped her into seconds ago.

"Crawl where the nice air is, call daddy- and don't look back." She repeats proudly, but you can see it clearly that she's just as scared as you are.

"Exactly, good job princess." You praise, and she nods with a pout. "Once daddy gets you, you'll be safe." You promise, and she wants to complain- but you don't let her, closing the vent again as you hear her shuffling away. This was fine. Mina would be safe, Jungkook would have one person less to worry about- he could move away, bring her to a different part of the country where no one knew her, and she could simply go to school next year and forget all of this ever happened.

You were just a bit sad that you'd never get to see it.

Of course you weren't her mother- but it was hard not to let her inside your heart, with the way she was. The charms her dad didn't have, she got them times ten. She was just so sweet, and you were around her all the time, it was hard not to somehow grow fond of her. You just hoped she'd be alright.

"Where's the kid, whore?!" A guard yelled after noticing you were the only one left in the room. You simply smiled, not answering, before he grabbed your neck, pulling you up as much as he could as he fumed. "Save that stupid grin for your son of a bitch at home." He barks, and you desperately try to breathe- unsuccessfully so, until he forcefully pushes you back down, the back of your head hiding the concrete floor with a sickening crack. You squealed out in pain, holding onto the spot for dear life as if that would somehow help it- but it didn't. "I knew sluts like you have to be tied up. You're all just trouble." He says, pulling you by your legs as another set of people come in, binding your legs and hands. You can already feel your fingers getting cold from how tight your wrists are tied- but you black out from the kick to your stomach before you can quite dwell on it.

"Fuck!" He yells, before he gets up, hands in his hair to somehow help himself not punch the laptop on his table. He's seen it, seen it all- from the moments you would shield Mina like a fearless lioness, the second you had lifted her up into the vents even though he knew your shoulder had to be in horrible pain, to the very moment you had faced the consequences of your actions. He hated that he had to wait, that he had to simply sit here in his office like a coward just to watch you take the beatings.

Because here was the thing with Jungkook; even though he liked to portray himself as someone who always takes the upper hand in things and troubles, when it came to his own personal life far away from his criminal business he ran, he couldn't seem to ever make up his mind. It was like a repeat of his past love affair- but instead of his ex-wife cheating and leaving him with a child, there was you, in some way fighting like a true lionness in order to keep said child safe and sound, even though you didn't even had to. Technically, this would've been the perfect opportunity for you to finally get your freedom back in a way. Because without Mina, there was no use for you being in his grasp anymore. Without her, there was no agreement between the two of you.

And yet there you were. And yet again, he simply watched, simply did nothing.

The entire mansion was already on high alert by now; his most trusted friends Seokjin and Yoongi already out to your location- he could wait. He could wait. He could wait.

Everything would somehow turn out to be just fine by the end of this day. He would successfully take his daughter into his arms, Yoongi and Seokjin would get you out of there, and after a good nights sleep and some first aid for you, things would just return to normal.

But what was normal at this point?

He didn't want things to continue like they did currently. He wanted change, for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you about his inner thoughts, about his desires concerning you and his future. He wanted to tell you that he didn't just want you to be at his home and with him and his daughter just because of some stupid agreement. He didn't want you to stay with him because he forced you to.

His phone began to chime, your face greeting him as the caller ID as he accepts it. "Daddy-" His heart sinks down to the floor as he hears Mina sniffle on the other side of the line. He has to wait, he thinks, repeats like a mantra. He has to somehow calm her down, tell her everything's alright- "They're hurting mommy!" Mina wails, and somehow, those words make him snap.

Fuck waiting.

In a way, Mina was a smart kid. She had been nothing but understanding when Jungkook and her mother had broken up- divorced, and fought until she eventually left for good. She had been a little sad for a long time, thinking it had somehow been her fault; but he had assured her, and later on, explained, that Mommy simply didn't love Daddy anymore. In Daycare, she was one of the most well behaved kids ever encountered- careful, and calm. Of course she got excited and happy and sometimes made a mess; but she also was very careful who she interacted with, what kinds of friends she made, and how much she talked about home. She never complained, never threw public tantrums.

Jungkook truly was lucky- that the only thing left of his shattered marriage had been her.

He never had relationships after that- never dated, never truly searched for someone. No one, in his eyes, was worth the risk- and even after meeting you, that was his opinion. But as cliche as it sounded, you were quite different from anyone he'd ever met before.

You spoke your mind; always saying what bothered you, never beating around the bush. Yet, you weren't being a bitch about things. No, you actually could be pretty cute if you wanted to be- be it the moments he had caught you and Mina sneak a taste of her birthday cake in the middle of the night, or the one time he had been sick.

You had been such an angel to him.

Helping him towards the bathroom, never even scrunching your nose in distaste whenever he had to throw up. You simply rubbed his back, helping him towards the sink to rinse, just to lead him back into his bedroom. You had aired the room out, made the bed, made sure that he was staying hydrated and at least tried to eat every day- all without any complains.

Maybe that was the moment his perspective of you shifted into dangerous territory.

He had somehow become hyperaware of the things you did. How well you got along with Mina, how easy going you were becoming with him- how confident yet nurturing and sweet you were, gently scolding him sometimes to not overwork himself. You always made sure his kid felt happy and was healthy, never so much as whined about your past friendships lost; you had simply accepted the new situation.

In a way, you were what he silently dreamed of at night.

Because as much as he loved the sight of you holding Mina whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, he somehow also craved to be held throughout the night by your arms. Just like he held his daughter in that moment after she had climbed out of the vent into his arms. He could make out some of her words as he simply let himself feel her tiny body in his arms for a moment. Just to make sure she was really there, really alright, really out of harms way. She kept on crying out for you, for him to help you, to save you-

So it was only natural for him to jump out of his car and run after Seokjin, Yoongi, and their squad, as they entered the building.

Sometimes at night, when you got aware of all the different sounds of the room, you heard the blood rush inside your brain.

Just like now; but now, it was so loud that you could barely hear anything else. Things seemed hazy, fuzzy, your ears stuffed with cotton wool drowning out any sounds might happening around you. Your eyes stayed closed, light way too bright for your raging headache- and the stale metal taste on your tongue wasn't helping either. Your hands had started to tingle long ago, and your knees were hurting from being in the same position for this long. But the moment someone touched you next, it wasn't forceful. It was so gentle, and almost- scared?

You couldn't hear, but you could feel. How the rope was cut, blood rushing painfully into your hands and legs again, pins and needles making them hypersensitive as you were suddenly held- moved, carried?

It smelled like home, that was something your dizzy mind was able to properly make out. It smelled like Jungkooks mansion, and a bit like his office- a faint vanilla hitting your senses, making you faintly smile as your hand reached out, unknowingly grabbing his shirt, holding the fabric as tight as you could as you moaned out in pain when he placed you down again, warmth surrounding you.

Maybe you were dying?

Or maybe not.

Because after some hazy and confusing dreams, you slowly came back to your senses. Eyes opening slowly, there it was; the curtains you knew so well, the balcony opened, air crisp and fresh around you as the door opened. You wanted to move your head, but the fear of triggering another headache was too big.

"Y/N?" Jungkooks voice asked, warm, and almost hesitant. You hummed, and he snapped his head around, noticing that yes- after days of sleeping and slipping in and out of consciousness you were actually awake again. He walked into your field of vision, looking so casual; his white button up undone at the first two buttons, sleeves rolled up as he sat down close to you, palm on the blanket covering you as he-

smiled?

"W-" You had to cough a bit before clearing your throat. "Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?" You said, and he chuckled, sighing in relief- you had, after all, not lost your charm.

"I think past Jungkook had a moment of self-reflection." He said, watching you as his hand placed itself onto yours, warmth spreading over your skin. "I'm glad you're okay." He admitted. "And thank you. For keeping.. Mina safe." He ended, and you smiled.

"That's literally my job." You said, and he got more serious.

"No, and you know what I mean." His voice was deep and rough, yet held no authority like usual. "You had chances to tell them who you were. That you had no connection to me other than through her; yet you didn't. And we both know why." He said, and you looked at him.

"There are more reasons than just one." You said, eyes drifting to his now empty ring finger on the hand resting on his thigh.

"Does it matter which one I mean?" He asked, and you wanted to scoff.

"It does to me." You said, and he shifted closer after a second, properly holding your hand now as he looked at yours- still a little scratched, but nothing that wouldn't heal.

"You did it because that's the reason you live here." He said. "You also did it because you adore her just as much as I do. And you.." He began, but grew unsure.

"And I?" You smiled, and he looked at you with his typical seriousness.

"And you somehow got stuck in an emotional mess." He explained. "You somehow, deep down, wanted it to be true." His thumb moved over the back of your hand as he spoke. "You wished that.. maybe there was more to it than just, partnership." He said, and you still smiled gently.

"Did I now?" You teased, but to your surprise, he was still looking straight at you.

"I know I did." He humms out. "I still do."

"You're stupid." You said, and he laughed bitterly, taking your words the wrong way as he slipped his out of yours.

"I know." He said, getting up to leave but stopped as you spoke.

"Good." You said, chuckling before coughing. "What, no kiss for me after all I've been through?" You giggled as his wide eyes stared at you. "Rude." You said, and he suddenly realized that no- you weren't rejecting him. You were accepting.

You felt the same.

Noticing his own awkwardness, he leaned over, hands supporting his body as he leaned down, properly placing his lips onto yours. You had never imagined what kissing Jungkook would feel like, but you certainly would've never guessed how gentle and absolutely loving it would be. One of his hands moved towards your cheek, holding it, as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Mommy!" Came Mina's excited voice, cries instantly noticable as she jumped onto the bed, burying her head into your chest as you held her, a few tears in your eyes from her jumping.

"Mina baby, be careful okay?" He said. But your words were the reason that he ended up tearing up, at the end.

"Mommy's still hurting baby." You said. "But she'll get better soon."

Not even during the first few magical months of being together with his past ex, had it ever felt like this.

He was euphoric almost; with the way you felt, moved, breathed. It all felt like so much to him, made him feel so.. He couldn't explain it. He had his hands on your hips, fingers careful not to press too hard, but having enough force to move you back and forth over his lap- his length moving in and out of your heat, making you whine, as he watched your breasts in front of him. You fit so perfectly like this, felt so amazing, managed to make him feel needy instead of the other way around.

He turned you over slipping out of you sloppily as he moved positions, now above you as he spread your legs, entering you again easily. He pulled you by your thighs, holding you in place as he began to thrust again, your eyes closing with every movement of his hips.

He loved the sight of it.

Deep down he wanted to take the condom off; he wanted to fill you up, cum inside over and over and over until your cunt would overflow. Not only just to claim you in a weird animalistic sense, but to also make his family complete. He had cut his ties to his illegal activities by now, had settled down with you- and he knew, there was no other person he'd ever have a child with again than with you. "I want to cum inside." He said breathlessly, making you whine in return. "Hm, you'd like that?" He asked teasingly, his thrusts gaining more strength as if to underline his statement. "Stuff you full of my cum, make you leak it and mess up the sheets.." He continues, hand reaching between the two of you to find your clit. "just to make love to you over and over again. I wanna make you cry." He gritted out, suddenly moving you around face down. He pulled up your lower body, entering you again, gliding in easily with the amount of slick you were leaking. "And you'd take it wouldn't you?" He asks, making you nod and groan out as he grows more desperate, faster, harder- throwing you off the edge but never stopping. "You're gonna take it until I cum, don't you dare move away from me." He scolds, holding you tightly, making you gasp out in overstimulation as he continues on, chasing his own high.

He reaches it with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside as he holds you, peppering kisses onto your spine. "I love you, hm.." He whispers out. "So good, so pretty.. all mine.." He huffs, simply falling onto the mattress with you in his arms, cock still buried inside you.

There was a moment of silence, until he spoke again. "I really do mean it though." He said earning only a tired humm from you. He simply chuckled at that, holding you close as he decided to maybe bring that topic up when the timing was a bit better.

For once, he felt like a normal person. Right next to you, in your arms, as you turned around to pull him close, burying your face into his chest.

Right where he belonged.

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 2

a/n: thank you all so so sooooo much for the love on the first part of cstsyl ❤️ i hope you guys like part 2 just as much, and please reblog/leave me any feedback if you can as if really just makes me smile and helps with the engagement and blah blah blah u know the drill lol

and thank you to the lovely jill @havethetimeofyourstyles​​, jess @arrogantstyles​ and wendy @bookwormandtea​ for beta reading for me!

word count: 15k

warnings: mentions of death, couples fighting, awkward silence in elevators, and addicting candy cane pretzels.

fic page // let’s chat! // cstsyl playlist

They were fighting again. Y/N’s voice was booming through the walls, her boyfriend’s echoing after hers. Harry tries his best to focus on anything but their voices, but he can’t. It doesn’t make him feel all that great listening to the girl he had only seen smile and had been making laugh over the past two weeks, now yelling on the other side of the wall between them.

Harry plucks a soft melody on his guitar as he lounges on his couch. His hands absentmindedly playing the four chords that have been stuck in his head all morning while he attempts to write lyrics to the melody. Only, he was having a bit of trouble doing so as he listened to Y/N’s voice again.  

“Honestly, Mark! Really?” Y/N’s shouting is muffled, but Harry hears her still. “You really think that it doesn’t bother…” The rest of her words are a bit harder to hear as she quiets her voice. Harry never imagined he’d hear her raise her voice like that. That soft, sweet and gentle tone that he has spent dreaming about for weeks now.

Harry’s still plucking the chords he’s grown obsessed with, humming along while zoning out on the blank tv in front of him. He feels selfish, and rather ridiculous too, not wanting to imagine Y/N with another man. But he also feels selfish that he’s not upset over the fact they’re fighting for the third time in two days. Harry shakes his head and scolds himself for the thought. Regardless of his feelings, he shouldn't want Y/N to feel this way. He can tell these couple days must’ve been hard on her, working all day and then coming home to only end up in a yelling match with her prick of a boyfriend. 

Harry rolls his eyes and notices that the shouting has stopped. The silence of his apartment, aside from his guitar, only makes him feel a bit sadder. 

“I’m selfish, I know,” Harry sings, “but I don’t ever want to see you with him.” 

Suddenly, his phone chimes from where it’s sat on the table, signalling an incoming phone call from Mitch. A picture of the two of them together in the studio last spring shows on the screen, Mitch tucked under Harry’s arm as they’re both slouching into the couch they sat on. Harry reaches for his phone and swipes his finger across the screen to accept his call. 

“Hey,” Harry mutters into the phone, focusing on getting together his notebook and cleaning up the few torn crumpled pieces of paper littering his coffee table.

“Hey, you leaving your place soon?” Mitch asks. Harry can hear traffic in the background, meaning that he had already left his place that's located much closer to the studio than his own apartment is. Moving his shoulder up a little, he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder in order to use both hands as he sets his guitar into the open case that’s sitting on the chaise lounge of his couch. Then scrambling around to gather the scrap paper and glass of water he had, standing up with his trash in hand to throw away and glass in the other to put in the sink.

“Just about to,” Harry answers honestly, making his way into his kitchen to clean up. He sighs after clearing his hands and returns his phone to his left hand to hold now.

“You get busy with that neighbour of yours again. Got a new crush, H?” Mitch teases him. Rolling his eyes, Harry brushes a hand on his light wash jeans before patting his pocket to make sure his thin wallet was still there. 

“No,” he mutters, obviously lying to his best mate - which Mitch is very aware of as he hums in response. “I’ll be there in, like, 20 if the tube isn’t a horror show.” 

“You’ve lived here for nearly 3 years now, think you can call it the subway yet?” 

“Nope,” Harry sighs. There were a few things his British instincts kicked in for; many different phrases and words he knew would stick in his vocabulary despite how many years he’s been in the U.S. Harry’s grabbing his green winter coat and slipping on his boots as he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear again. “Should I grab the gang some coffee on my way? Seeing as I’ll probably be the last to arrive,” Harry says in a tight voice, his annoyance from hearing Y/N and her boyfriend still clear even in his phone call with his mate. 

“Don’t count on it. Tom hasn't answered his phone all morning, so something tells me he’s preoccupied,” Mitch suggests. Harry recalls the text he had gotten from his friend Tom, saying that he and the Missus were planning to celebrate their anniversary early this year. Mitch seems to be hinting that their celebrations have fallen into the morning too. Harry bets that Tom being MIA was because of his two children. The two of them knew how to gang up on their dad already at a young age—he couldn't imagine how they’d be when they grew up. 

“He’s a dad, Mitch, that's probably what he’s preoccupied with,” Harry states. After putting on his coat, he walks over to clasp the case for his guitar closed and heaves it up before heading for the door. 

“Point being, don’t bother with coffee. I’m in line at Starbucks anyways. Did you want anything?” Mitch asks.

“A slice or two of the banana loaf, please,” Harry requests, his stomach growling at the thought of food. Time had slipped by him this morning, listening to Y/N and her boyfriend argue, and he hadn’t eaten more than an apple for breakfast. 

Harry double checks the lights are off in his apartment before shutting the door behind him, setting his guitar down to rest on the wall to his left, and locking it quickly. Mitch is complaining in his ear about some Karen at the front of the line. Harry chuckles at his friends colourful words and picks up his guitar, not sparing a glance at Y/N’s door as he walks to the elevator and hits the down button to call it to his floor. Not even a ten seconds go by and he hears someone exiting their apartment behind him. Harry doesn’t want to look over his shoulder to check, not wanting to see Mark and Y/N walking hand in hand towards him. So, he keeps his eyes trained up on the red numbers rising above the elevator doors, signalling it’s arrival, soon hopefully. 

“Hey, Harry right?” Mark questions, pointing a finger at Harry as him and Y/N stepped up to the elevator. Y/N tries her best not to frown. She hates the way Harry doesn’t smile at her first before meeting Mark’s eyes and nodding. 

“Hey,” Harry says. He turns his head and catches Y/N’s gaze. “What are you guys up to?” 

Y/N knows he’s simply being polite, something Mark wouldn’t care to be - seeing as he’s already got his phone out of his pocket, and is staring at the screen as he answers. “Y/N’s driving me to the airport,” he states. 

Harry looks at Mark, anger bubbling inside of him as he clutches the guitar case in his hand. The elevator doors open then, a light bing! coming from inside. Mark enters first, not even bothering to look at Y/N or Harry, but then Harry waves his free hand in motion to let Y/N walk in before him. She smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she walks into the small space and stands beside Mark. 

“Thanks,” she says in a soft voice as Harry hits the button for the lobby. She takes note of the guitar case in his hand. “Are you heading to the studio?” She asks, pointing to the bulky item he’s carrying. 

Harry looks down at his guitar case, “yeah, last day before everyone gets their break.” 

“No more counting down the days then, huh?” She asks, mentioning their previous discussion about how people typically countdown the days till they have time off - her included this year. But Harry had mentioned that he wasn’t looking forward to his days away from the studio. He didn’t think she’d remember that. 

“Counting the days till I’m back in the studio now,” Harry says. Y/N smiles and Harry’s heart bursts at the sight. Having heard her raised voice earlier today, being sure a scowl was etched on her face, he was glad to see her lips turned upward. Mark clears his throat then, causing both Y/N and Harry to quit looking into each other's eyes and step back into reality - her boyfriend was right beside them. 

“Studio? What are you, a singer or something?” Mark asks Harry. His eyes catch sight of Mark’s arm snaking around Y/N’s back, resting lazily on her left hip as they stood there. Harry licked his lips and almost nodded, but was quick to catch himself and shook his head instead. “What kind of studio then? Movies?” Mark continues to question him. 

“A music studio, I’m just a musician,” Harry answers. 

“Oh,” Mark says, “cool,” he adds with a shrug. The elevator doors open and Mark guides him and Y/N out of the small space. “Well, see ya around, ‘Arry,” Mark says with a smug look, trying to mimic his accent. But he butchers it, of course, sounding more like Hagrid from Harry Potter. Mark then waves and turns himself and Y/N to the right of the lobby that leads to the stairwell that went down to the underground parking lot. 

Y/N only gets to give Harry a quick smile before Mark turns her away. She wants to apologize for Mark’s ridiculous behaviour, feeling embarrassed by it. She also wanted to say that Harry wasn't just a musician, he was a songwriter too, which therefore meant he was a storyteller, and in her eyes songwriters were some of the most creative and talented people. Y/N wanted to shut Mark up and start bragging about Harry, like he was her boyfriend and Mark was just some dumb prick. 

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and licks them, glancing quickly over her shoulder before getting to the door. Her eyes meet Harry’s intense stare, him looking over his shoulder at her too, and her stomach erupts with butterflies. But then it flips and flops with nerves and her hands suddenly being tugged on by her boyfriend, holding open the door with his hip as he walks them through the doorway and out of Harry’s sight. 

Harry finds himself thinking about Y/N the whole way to the studio—as if he hasn’t stopped thinking about her and her boyfriend over the past couple days anyways. Did she ever mention being in a relationship, even in the most subtle way? Did he misinterpret her kindness for flirting like an absolute idiot? These questions were on a loop inside of his head until he walked into the studio, flashed the front desk his ID badge, and headed to studio B where he and his mates would be working today. 

“And he’s made it,” Mitch announces as Harry pushes closed the door and walks the few steps to his left where the brown leather couch was against the wall. Adam is sitting on the couch, the phone in his hand chimes as he types on it quickly, merely giving Harry a quick smile before looking back at the screen. Mitch is standing by the switch board, leaning back against it as he stares Harry down. Next to him is Tom, sitting in his chair and facing his many computer screens as he gets everything up and going for the day. 

“And I see we were both wrong and Tom beat me,” Harry states. He sets his guitar down, leaning it against the side of the couch before sitting himself down beside Adam.

“I wasn’t answering my phone because I was already on my way over here way before any of you slowpokes, and then I turned off my ringer once I got in here,” Tom explains, leaning back in his chair while his eyes stay on the screen. But then he twirls around, facing Harry and Adam, and gives Adam a bored look. “Like we all agreed to do, right Adam?” 

“Relax, I’ll do it after I send this last text,” Adam says. 

“Sure,” Tom mutters, swivelling his chair back around and grabbing the mouse to continue his set up.  

“Jeez, Tommy,” Mitch chuckles, “did you not get any last night or something? What’s got your panties in a knot?” 

Harry’s eyebrows pull down as he takes in his friends stiff posture as Mitch’s words seem to sink in. “Wasn’t it your anniversary date last night?” He questions, keeping his voice light and not as daunting as Mitch’s had been. 

Tom turns back around to face the boys and makes a big show of rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it was supposed to be, but then our babysitter called and was all freaked out and of course Jenny got all freaked out too. I tried to tell her it wasn’t that big of a deal and they could handle it, but we still ended up leaving our hotel room at nine o’clock and dealt with our two crying children who just missed their mommy. I was in bed by eleven.” Tom explains his night, ending with rubbing a hand up and down his face as he was clearly annoyed by the whole situation. 

“That’s just life as a parent, man,” Adam states. “Emi and I didn’t have a single date night till Spike was five,” he adds with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I get it but it’s just upsetting to have this whole night planned and then it not happen,” Tom says. Harry knew that feeling; he may have not had a full anniversary night away planned like Tom did, but the other day he was racking up things to do with Y/N before he was introduced to her boyfriend. 

Harry zones out, eyes glued on the coffee table in front of him as he sighs softly, leaning back into the couch as he was getting wrapped up in his thought of Y/N, again. I could still be her friend, he thinks. Even though it’d hurt to see her with her boyfriend, to hear about a date night or see them kiss. The ache already begins in Harry’s chest as the mere thought of it, and he finds himself bringing a hand up and rubbing over his heart subconsciously. 

“Harry,” Mitch calls, forcing Harry to snap out of his thoughts and look up at where he stood. He raises his eyebrows, making Harry think that he had said his name more than once but was ignored. 

“What’s going on?” Tom asks Harry. 

“He’s probably thinking about his latest little crush,” Mitch smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Who is it this time?” Adam asks in a monotone voice.

“His new neighbour. Supposedly, she’s rather beautiful in Harry’s eyes,” Mitch teases. 

“Not just in my eyes,” Harry mumbles, looking at his lap and picking off an invisible piece of lint. 

“What do you mean?” Tom questions. 

Harry hears Tom’s chair squeak suddenly, making Harry assume that he must be leaning back in it again. Harry looks up to see he’s right - Tom’s got his arms crossed at his chest like Mitch while they’re both staring him down. Harry lets out a sigh and shakes his head, leaning further into the back of the couch while he licks his lips and looks anywhere but at his friends’ faces - not wanting to see their taunting looks when he tells them. 

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Harry says in a low voice. 

Mitch inhales a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth as he walks over and clamps a hand down on Harry’s shoulder. “That’s tough man,” he says. 

Harry shakes his head again and sits up, causing Mitch’s hand to fall off his shoulder. “It’s not just tough. I get I have these crushes on people a lot, but I don’t know, there was just something different between us. We really clicked and I just thought we’d at least get to go out a few times,” he speaks softly into the quiet room,the support of some of his closest mates surrounding him.

“Have you written about how you’re feeling?” Tom asks. Harry nods and reaches for his guitar without a second thought, taking it out of the case and positioning the instrument in his lap. 

“This is gonna be good,” Mitch nods his head and rolls over the second chair that occupied the room. Harry shakes his head at his friends comment. 

“I’ve just had this tune in my head for a couple days now, and I’ve only come up with a few lyrics really, so I don’t know how good it will be,” he explains. 

Harry plays the song he’s been playing all morning for the other three in the room. The soft acoustic guitar fills the silence, the twang from his guitar strings echoing off the walls. Harry shuts his eyes and lets his voice build up as he sings the two lines he’s been thinking about for a few days now. He feels it deep in his chest, the truth behind his words. Suddenly, more lyrics filter out of his mouth that hadn’t come up before. 

“I’m selfish I know,” he sings, “I’d tell you but I know you’d never listen.”

It’s not entirely the truth, because he’s sure that Y/N would listen to anything he had to say. He’s also sure that if he walked up to her right now, ran out of this studio and back to the apartment and waited outside her door, begging for her to break up with him, that she wouldn’t listen. Harry believes that she’s a better person than that - that regardless if she felt what he had over their past few encounters, she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted and would figure things out herself. 

“I hope you can see, the shape that I’m in,” Tom suddenly sings along to the tune that Harry’s still playing. Harry opens his eyes in a flash and looks at his friend, but Tom’s back is already to him as he’s facing his computer again. “I have the perfect piano and drums mix for this. I’ve had it kind of hidden away for the right time and I think this is it.” 

And that’s when the magic happens. Harry puts down his guitar and gets right into the lyrics, pouring himself into yet another song. He lets his feelings out about the situation he’s gotten himself into with Y/N, and mixes it with some poetry he’s written previously in his journal. You flower, you feast, is something he’s had for quite some time but had never felt it really fit into any of his other songs. And yet somehow in this song full of duck noises, a guitar solo, and many lalalala’s, it somehow found its place. 

Not to mention that Mitch absolutely murders the guitar solo. His long hair acts as a curtain as he sways to the music and lets himself go. Nearly every time that Mitch goes in for a solo, he doesn’t remember what he plays because he’s in such a trance, so Tom has to play it back for him if he needs to fix anything up. Overall, the song inspired by Y/N and her shit boyfriend is pretty great. 

“Anything else you’ve got to bring to the table, Harry?” Tom asks after nearly six hours of working on perfecting their new song ‘Woman’ - named solely because of the repeating of the word in the course, which was chosen because he felt like he was calling out to Y/N in this song. Saying woman over and over again at her in hopes to get her attention. He simply shrugs and stretches back into the couch, sprawling his legs out in front of him while staring down at his journal that’s sitting in his lap. 

“I’ve been writing this one based off a man I see everyday during my breakfast at the cafe down the street from my apartment,” he says. Harry clears his throat and sort of talk-sings what his idea of the melody is with the lyrics he’s got. “Nine in the morning, man drops his kids off at school. And he’s thinking of you, like all of us do. Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon, around one thirty two.” 

“Alright, I like it,” Adam nods his head.

“Who’s he thinking of?” Mitch teases, “like all of us do,” he adds with a smirk. His lips then wrap around the straw that was in the can of Pepsi he had gotten from the mini fridge a while ago. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks out his foot in order to nudge Mitch’s leg from where he’s sitting in the desk chair he’s gotten comfortable in. 

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles. Adam, Mitch and Tom all chuckle at their friend’s pout, which just makes him smile. He knew that coming into the studio and writing and making music about his situation with Y/N would ultimately make it feel even a little bit better. During the making of their newest song, his friends did give him some advice. 

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out, H,” Adam had said with a smile. 

But there’s no way of knowing how he’ll feel when he bumps into her again, whether she’s with her boyfriend or not. 

It’s been a tough few days for Y/N. Not only has work been crazy because not one, but two interns got sick with a stomach bug; meaning she was currently filling their job on top of her own and running around the city - but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry. 

She is in her own head again as she walks into the Gucci store on Fifth Ave. for the third time in two days. As Greg approaches her, she appreciates his light pink suit with a white ruffled shirt underneath. His bald head shines under the lights of the store, but that smile was much brighter and obviously, professionally whiten. Greg gives her a kiss on the cheek, saying they are a bit behind with her packages since it’s such a busy time for them as well. Y/N just nods and gives him a smile, accepting the flute of champagne as she takes a seat and waits. This is honestly the first time she’s gotten a chance to sit all day, but of course, she spends it zoning out on a sparkly dress hung up a few feet away from her as her mind begins to think of anything but work. 

Mark and her started dating only a mere four months ago. After meeting at a bar in the Upper East Side, he practically stalked her - which isn't too hard considering her social media following - and sent her flowers to work for three days straight till she agreed to go on a date with him. Turned out that he wasn’t just some business man out on the town with some work buddies, but an heir to one of the country's biggest companies. Therefore, meaning that when the gossip started of the two of them seeing each other, Y/N’s mom was the first person to call. 

“You hit the jackpot, baby!” She basically screamed into Y/N’s ear. 

Y/N only rolled her eyes at her mothers words. Her mother was the typical New Jersey girl that grew up with big dreams of pinning down a wealthy New York City man - and kudos to her for doing it. Her dad, bless his heart, was an older naive man who somehow managed to fertilize her mother’s gold digging eggs and voila, Y/N was born. But with that being said, Y/N was lucky enough to have family money, so she never felt the need to be in a relationship just because a man had more in his bank account. She also had better morals than her mother, and knew that money wasn’t a factor when you really loved someone. So no, Mark was not the jackpot because of his bank account. Y/N just thought he was really nice and attractive too, so she agreed to be his girlfriend those four months ago. But it wasn’t till a month ago that that nice streak ended. 

All of a sudden Y/N’s cell phone is ringing. She blinks out of her daze to realize she’s finished her glass of champagne while so deep in thought. Pulling out her phone, she looks at the screen to see it’s Mark calling. His ears must be burning, Y/N thinks.

“Hey,” Y/N answers softly, crossing a leg over the other and resting her elbow on her knee as she holds the phone to her ear. 

“Hey, babe,” Mark sighs. Y/N knows right away what he’s about to tell her, all by the tone of his voice and the use of that nickname. He used it when he asked her to drive him to the airport yesterday, which he forgot to mention he needed her to do till an hour before he had to leave - resulting in Y/N being very behind on work for the day.

“How’s Arizona?” Y/N asks politely anyway, mentioning the state he was in for business this time around. He was always traveling for work; his father wants him to know all the branch executives, so therefore he’s been to pretty much every state in the country over the course of six months. The moment they started to date Y/N knew he’d be working a lot, but she didn’t expect him to be working all over the country. She’s lucky if she gets a weekend with him, and honestly, she was looking forward to the almost two weeks work free they’d be getting together. But something told her that was not going to happen. 

“It’s good, hot,” he says, seeming distracted by something in the background to which he moves the phone away from his mouth to respond to someone around him. “No, no, not those, the red ones,” he orders. 

“Mark?” Y/N questions, keeping her voice down as Greg and one of his associates come from the backroom then with a few boxes in hand. “I’m just a bit busy with work, was there a reason for you calling, hun?” 

“Right…Well, unfortunately my time at the Arizona office will be extended. So, I’m not going to make it back to New York before Christmas,” Mark explains. Y/N frowns at his words even though it’s just as she imagined when she answered his call.

“When will you be back?” She asks, her eyebrows pulled together and lip pouting out slightly. 

“That’s the thing, there’s really no point in me flying back to the East Coast so close to the holidays when I’ve got to be in Los Angeles for my family’s big festivities.”

“Oh,” Y/N says. She’s only sad for a moment, noticing that Mark is distracted by something in the background once again as his voice is muffled. “So when exactly are you planning to come back to the city, Mark?” She asks as she sits up and projects her voice louder into her phone. Greg and his associate seem to notice Y/N demeanour change, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he sets the boxes down on the couch beside her.

“I don’t know-”

Y/N doesn’t let him speak, though, her anger getting the best of her for what feels like the millionth time since she began dating Mark. It’s so unlike her, she thinks. She shakes her head and says, “you don’t plan to come back to New York and spend any part of the holidays with your girlfriend? Your girlfriend who very much loves the holidays, by the way.”

“I’m aware of your love for the holidays, Y/N, little hard to not know when your apartment looks like a four year old decorated it with all that crap,” Mark huffs into the phone, his voice matching her tone. 

“Oh my god, whatever, Mark,” Y/N snaps in a low voice, having to take a deep breath as she stares down at the floor. “Just go and have fun on the West Coast, don’t worry one bit about me ‘cause it seems you haven’t bothered to to begin with,” Y/N finds herself seething into the phone, keeping her voice low before pulling her phone away from her ear and hanging up before he can say one more thing to upset her. 

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Focusing on making her heart beat slow down and her hands to stop shaking. Did she just break up with him? No, no I didn’t say the words, I didn’t say it’s over and maybe I should have, Y/N thinks while letting out another short breath through her nose. She did not deserve this and she knew she didn’t, and yet she keeps putting up with his extended work trips and him disrespecting her opinions. Mark wanted a woman like Y/N’s mother. One that didn’t have her own hobbies and her own dreams, and who just wanted to be on his arm and live with whatever he put them through. Or did she even give him a real chance? That little voice in the back of her head, the one that was planted by her own mother, asks her. 

“You look like you need another glass, mi amor,” Greg says softly, bringing her to open her eyes once more and realize that she did in fact just have a fight with her boyfriend over the phone in public. In front of a supplier too. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Thankfully, she thought of Greg as more of a friend than in a professional view. She smiles at him, forcing it, while he holds up the bottle of champagne and fills her glass. 

“Thank you,” she says quietly. 

“You’re welcome,” he nods, turning to his left to grab the second tall glass and fills it as well. Y/N chuckles as he brings it to his own mouth and has a sip. “What? The holidays are stressful, I deserve a glass too every once in a while.” Y/N only laughs again and raises her flute, Greg lifts his own to cheers her before they both take a sip. “Did you want to talk about it?” He asks after a beat of silence. 

Y/N licks her lips, tasting the expensive champagne all over again. “It’s just,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair before she continues, “I thought that Mark was different when I first met him. He sent flowers to my work and took me to nice restaurants. He seemed to be really into me, and now, he’s really into his work and he thinks my love for the holidays is childish, and that my opinions and my time don’t matter. So, I’m starting to think I jumped into this relationship, maybe a bit too fast all because my mom approved of his last name and Sammy thought he was hot.” Y/N rants in a rush of words, bringing her flute to her lips afterwards for another sip.

Greg doesn’t respond right away, instead he too sips his champagne and looks around the room they sat in. He sighs and brings a hand down on Y/N’s thigh, causing her to look at him. He smiles and gives her a comforting pat. 

“You are a young woman in New York City who’s really got her shit together, you know your worth, Y/N,” Greg says. Y/N mirrors his smile, feeling the back of her eyes threaten with tears at his sweet words. “You’ll know what to do about this man,” he adds with a wink. Greg removes his hand and lifts his flute to finish off his champagne. “Plus, men are trash anyways,” he mutters as his eyes wander around the room that’s quickly filling up with customers. 

Y/N laughs, “yes, Greg, they can be.” She agrees. But there’s one man that comes to her mind. One with enchanting green eyes, beautiful dimples, a contagious laugh, and a certain swoon worthy accent. 

And yet, Y/N is not surprised when her thoughts drift off to Harry again. In fact, she thinks about him the entire way back to her office, the few boxes from Greg in her arms as she travels on the subway and walks carefully on the slushy shovelled snow that covers the sidewalks. What is he up to today? She thinks, knowing that he must’ve gotten home from the studio late yesterday - maybe even this morning. She worked late on emails last night, only having her Christmas playlist playing softly from her TV, and she didn’t hear him get home. She wonders if he sleeps in when he does that, or if he still manages to get up early and do whatever it is he does every day. She doesn’t know his daily routine, but she admits to herself that she’s curious.

Having done the errands that were needed for the day, Y/N ends up sitting at her desk for the remaining three hours of her work day. Her and Amanda go over new interns to hire, seeing as Y/N’s boss doesn’t want her away from the office doing intern work forever. And then she and Sammy are walking out of the building together at five o’clock sharp. They endured yet another eleven hour work day today. And this was one of the easiest days this week, since it was spent shopping around and organizing the office. Tomorrow there would be two A-list clients coming in for their last styling of the year, both finalizing their outfits for the upcoming Grammy awards too.

“You seem off today,” Sammy says as they walk down the stairs to the subway. 

“I, um,” Y/N licks her lips and narrows her eyes at the screen that reads when the next stop would be. She looks at her friend and sighs. “I got into a fight with Mark earlier,” she states. 

“Another one?” Sammy questions, raising a brow and giving her a look that said ‘really?’.

“Yup,” Y/N says, rolling her lips into her mouth and nodding. “He’s too busy with work to come back to the city for the rest of the month, said he doesn’t see the point in coming back even for a day before he has to go back home to the West Coast. So, I ended up yelling at him in the middle of the Gucci store.” 

“Are you for real?” Sammy asks in shock, his eyes widening as Y/N explains what her boyfriend had told her earlier. 

“Yup,” she repeats, nodding her head again too. “Oh, and he said my apartment looked like a four year old decorated it and it looked like crap,” Y/N chuckles, realizing now how stupid Mark’s fighting words were. 

“Y/N,” Sammy sighs, “dump him,” he says while placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. “I get that you wanted to give this guy a chance, but all you guys ever do is fight and I don’t want to say it but I’m going to,” he sighs again dramatically, “I’ve seen you smile over that new neighbour of yours more than Mark in the past few weeks. That’s a sign.”

“But what if I didn’t give Mark a real chance? And what if I’m just playing Harry up in my head-”

“No, none of that,” Sammy shakes his head and stares deep into Y/N’s eyes. “You are the most polite and sweetest person I’ve ever met. There’s no way in hell you didn’t give Mark a chance, hell you gave him a million chances, let’s face it. And as for Harry, you’ll never know unless you get to know him.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes as Sammy drops his hand and tilts his head to the side. She notices the platform getting busier and louder then, as the subway makes way towards them from the North. This was her ride, while Sammy had to wait another ten minutes for the one that went to Brooklyn. Y/N thinks about what Sammy had said. Maybe she did give Mark plenty of chances and maybe their time was up, but that doesn’t mean she feels comfortable jumping right back into the game of dating with Harry. Plus, how bad would that make her look. Harry would probably think she didn’t care about relationships and typically shuffled around boys, which was so far from her case. In fact it was why she was so hesitant to date Mark in the first place - she didn’t like to give her time and love to just anyone. It’s just too bad she didn’t realize that Mark wasn’t worth it sooner. 

“If I’m just getting out of this relationship with Mark, I can’t just start dating Harry,” Y/N exclaims to Sammy.

“I didn’t say date him right away, I said get to know him,” Sammy states, “hang out, be his friend, and if things happen then they happen. The world works in funny ways,” Sammy says matter of factly, pointing a finger at her while she starts taking a few steps towards the subway that’s coming to a stop. “We’ll talk later! Dump the fucking guy though!” Sammy shouts as Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes while getting into the mass of people cramming on the subway. 

“Yeah, dump the son of a bitch,” a croaky voice startles Y/N as she gets through the door. An elderly woman is smiling back at her, her yellow teeth contrasting against her dark skin as she smiles wickedly at Y/N. She chuckles awkwardly and nods, walking across the space to an open seat. 

Opening her purse, she finds her Airpods and puts them into her ears. They connect to her phone automatically and she begins to tap on her phone, deciding on which playlist she wants to listen to on her way home. Once she clicks shuffle on her ‘girl freaking power’ playlist, she turns it all the way up and lets the anger in Halsey’s voice fuel her own anger towards her shit boyfriend. She thinks of their fights that have happened recently the whole ride on the subway, then she thinks if it’d be too cruel of her to break up with him over the phone as she walks the few blocks to her apartment building. If he broke up with me over the phone I’d be a little upset, Y/N thinks with a frown as she walks across the lobby to the elevator. 

Y/N, who was so in her own world with her music still turned up all the way as a new song by Olivia O’Brien, doesn’t even realize when Harry walks up beside her. He can hear her music blasting through her earphones. He leans forwards a bit, hoping to get in her line of sight. But she is still focused on the elevator doors, nodding her head to whatever song she’s got playing. Harry’s lips tug up into a smile. When he first saw her standing there when he entered the building he got a little nervous, unsure how this interaction between them would go. Should he apologize right away for not knowing she had a boyfriend and asking her for dinner?

“Hello?” Harry sings. “Y/N?” He calls in a normal voice. This time she seems to notice that someone is beside her. She jumps slightly, placing a hand over her heart and reaches up with the other to take out an Airpod which causes her music to stop completely. 

“You scared me,” she breathes out. 

“Sorry,” Harry says, giving her a timid smile. “I tried getting your attention a few times, it must be a good song.” 

She looks down at the earphone in her hand and nods, “uh, yeah, just really into empowering female music today.” She states. 

Harry hums and nods, then the elevator opens, revealing a few people inside which causes Y/N to step towards him as they move out of the way. If he hadn’t taken a step back fast enough she'd practically be right up against him. He breathes in and smells her perfume, the intoxicating scent of rose filling his nostrils with her being so close. Y/N gives a quick ‘you’re welcome’ to the people who step out as they thank them for moving before they both step into the elevator together. Harry was too busy thinking about how close Y/N had been to step up and hit the number six button before he could. He gives her a smile in thanks.

The elevator begins to ascend as the space falls into silence between them. They’re both overthinking. What should I say? Is what is on both their minds as they pass the first floor, and then the second. Harry lets out a short breath through his nose before leaning his back against the railing. 

“I’m sorry for being so clueless,” he states, pausing when Y/N’s head whips up and her eyes meet his. “I didn’t think you’d have a boyfriend and I just didn’t think twice before asking you if you wanted to get dinner,” he says, finally getting the thought off his chest. 

Y/N furrows her brows, “and why did you think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend?” She asks, teasing him, but Harry’s face falls and he stands straight once again, bringing both his hands up and waves them in front of himself as if in surrender. 

“Not that you’re like not pretty enough for a boyfriend, or nice enough, cause to be quite honest I would be surprised if you didn’t have a boyfriend cause you are like the prettiest girl I’ve ever met and not to mention really nice and super cool too-” 

“I was just teasing you, Harry,” Y/N stops him. But his words had caused quite the feeling inside her stomach, butterflies were multiplying like it was nobody's business while she swore she felt her heartbeat in the soles of her feet. 

“Oh,” he breathes out, “right. Well, still, I’m sorry.” He casts his eyes down to the floor, feeling his cheeks warm up from embarrassment. The elevator sounds a quiet bing! as the doors open for them on the sixth floor. Harry lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s once more, motioning with his hand for her to exit first. She smiles and walks out with him right behind her. 

Y/N doesn’t say anything till she’s at her apartment door, her key in the lock, and she notices Harry is at his door a few feet away. She sighs and stops twisting the key, letting her shoulder sag as she looks over at Harry. 

“I’m sorry too, by the way,” she says. Harry looks up at the sound of her voice, thinking she was simply going to take in her apology and go about her merry life with Mark. He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips as she leans into her door. “I should have mentioned Mark, even just in a quick comment, but honestly our relationship is sort of new and even a little non-existent at times, it seems, so I guess I was just enjoying making a new friend. I didn’t even think about it,” Y/N explains herself. 

Harry takes in her words; that her relationship is new, and non-existent? He wonders what she means by that. But he can’t help but smile at her mentioning that she enjoyed becoming his friend. Harry nods his head and let’s his smile grow wider, knowing his dimples would show. 

“I’d like to keep being your friend,” Y/N adds, “if that’s okay?” 

“It’s totally okay,” Harry nods. Y/N smiles and nods back. 

“Okay,” she says softly. 

Harry fits his key into the lock without looking, keeping his eyes on Y/N’s as he notices her cheeks glowing a shade of pink. “How about a movie night? Tomorrow? If you’re not busy, of course,” Harry suggests, twisting his key and unlocking the door. 

“I think I’m free. It’ll have to be Christmas themed, of course,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes as if to challenge Harry to fight her on it - like Mark would. 

“Well, yeah,” Harry scoffs, eyebrows pulled together and head shaking in faux disbelief. “Wouldn’t have it any other way during the month of December,” he adds. 

Why couldn’t I have moved in like six months ago? Y/N thinks to herself as she smiles at Harry. She finds herself liking him more with every word that comes out of that pretty mouth of his. If only she had met him before she met Mark. Things would be easier, that’s for sure.

The two of them agree on a time for tomorrow, six in the evening, before saying their goodbyes and walking into their homes that were side by side. After Y/N takes off her shoes and coat, she walks towards her bedroom to get changed into some workout clothes for a quick at home video before she ate dinner. Just as she’s changing she hears the muffled sounds of Harry’s guitar - something she’s grown fond of hearing through their shared wall. Maybe she’ll get him to play her something tomorrow, she thinks with a smile. 

Y/N makes her way back into her living room and starts up her workout video. She does some jumping jacks to get her warmed up, but honestly, her heart is already pounding in her chest from her interaction with Harry and the plans they have made. Without a doubt she knows she’ll be counting down the hours during her work day tomorrow till six o’clock.

Elf or Polar Express? Both were very different Christmas movies, and they were the two she was torn between taking over to Harry’s. They hadn’t talked about who’s apartment they would hang out in, but as it was ten minutes to six, she hoped to get out the door and knock on his first, in order to get the chance to ask him to play his guitar for her maybe. But that’s not how it’s going to work out because Y/N’s too busy being stuck between two of her favourite movies when suddenly, there’s a knock at her door. She frowns knowing that it’s Harry and wouldn’t get to hear him play guitar, but gets up from where she was sitting crossed legged on the floor to answer the door. 

Her fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floor as she walks to her door, peering through the peephole quickly to double check to see it was Harry. She smiles at the sight of his floppy brown hair and unlocks her door before swinging it open. Harry looks up as she opens the door, meeting her gaze for only a moment before he watches her take in his apparel. 

He had thought about it for way too long, what he was to wear to hangout and watch movies with the girl he liked, but ended up staying dressed down as he was all day. Y/N liked how the plain white shirt he wore fit him, only a small brand logo that was over his heart, but she really liked the pastel rainbow coloured sweatpants he wore too. He looks comfy and ready to lay back and relax for a few hours with her. He’s not wearing any shoes though, which makes Y/N furrows her brows for a second. 

“I didn’t really see any point in putting on shoes for the few feet out of my apartment,” Harry states quickly to let her know. Y/N nods, chuckling under her breath, but understanding what he means. She steps back and lets him into her home. 

Harry takes in the atmosphere of Y/N’s apartment for the second time now. The glow from her many Christmas lights makes him feel warm inside, and her Christmas tree was the focal point of it all. He likes the odd ornaments that are littered among the branches, and he can’t quite make out what they all are, but something tells him that they each hold a special meaning to Y/N. Maybe some from her childhood, others from some trips she’s had - he could see her collecting them from anywhere she’s travelled to. Harry makes a mental note to ask her at one point. 

“I was thinking of making some hot chocolate, and I have a bag of, like, this candy cane and white chocolate pretzels that I’ve been obsessed with lately and was going to munch on that during the movie, but I have a bunch of other snacks too, honestly,” Y/N starts to explain to Harry. He turns on his heels to see she’s already locked her door and is now moving into the kitchen. 

“I’m cool with some hot chocolate,” Harry nods, “and I’ll give the pretzels a try, they sound good.” 

“They are so good, oh my god,” she moans at the mere thought of eating them. Bending down to open her bottom drawer, she reveals a well organized array of munchies that looked like a stoner's heaven. 

As she’s ruffling through the drawer Harry takes in her outfit. She’s got on a pair of Christmas themed pajama bottoms with little snowflakes scattered along the dark blue material that matched with her plain dark blue shirt. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, wispy hairs falling around her face as it looks as though it’s been up all day and she hasn’t cared to fix it. Overall, she looks comfortable and at ease - as she should be in her own home. He had wondered if she ever dressed down, seeing as he had only ever seen her after a day of work dressed in trendy high fashion, but somehow casual clothing. Christmas pajamas suit her, he thinks with a smile.

Y/N gets a hold of the bag of pretzels she’s talking about and opens it, taking one out for herself right away to bite down on before turning to Harry who’s standing in her kitchen. She smiles at the pretzel and lifts the bag to him. Harry takes a few steps towards her before reaching into the bag and grabbing one for himself. He brings it to his mouth and Y/N watches for his reaction. His jaw flexes as he chews down on the sweet yet salty treat. 

Harry hums and nods, reaching into the bag again, “not bad,” he says before chewing on another one. Y/N smiles and passes him the bag all together, turning towards the stove top to turn on the kettle already filled with water. 

“Can you find two mugs in that cabinet?” Y/N asks Harry as she looks to her left and sees him standing in front of the cabinet that held her many mugs and glasses. She points to it and Harry nods. He puts the bag of pretzels down after sneaking one last one into his mouth, and opens the cabinet door to reveal Y/N’s collection of mugs. He goes for the two at the front, which were Christmas themed, of course; one shaped like the Grinch and the other like Santa. As he sets them down on the counter in front of him, beside the bag of pretzels that he sticks his hand into again, he notices a glass container full of brown powder that he assumes is her hot chocolate mix. 

“Is this your hot chocolate mix?” He asks, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, “I honestly make myself a cup almost every night during the colder seasons.” 

“Are you a coffee or tea person?” Harry asks, keeping his eyes on the container as he twists it open and sees a metal teaspoon measuring cup inside already. He starts to scoop some into each mug as he waits for Y/N’s answer. Although he is very aware of her possibly liking coffee, considering how he’s seen her with many Starbucks cups before. 

“Yeah, I enjoy both too. I have way too much coffee during my work days, and tea reminds me of the days at my grandparents,” she explains, watching Harry scoop her preferred amount of mix into each mug without even asking. She smiles softly, seeing him reach for yet another pretzel too. 

“Are you saying tea is for old people?” Harry questions, raising a brow as he peers at Y/N in the corner of his eye. Y/N rolls her eyes, a smile still on her lips. Her kettle begins to squeal into the air, but she’s quick to turn and take it off the heat. She turns off the stove and uses a tea towel to bring it over to the mugs - Harry steps back out of her way, but not before grabbing the bag of pretzels. 

“Old people and the British too, of course,” Y/N teases. 

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says in agreement. He waits till Y/N fills the mugs and sets the kettle back down on the stovetop before he steps back to the counter and wraps a hand around the handle of the Grinch mug. Y/N is quick, stepping towards him and gently slapping his hand. 

Harry flinches his hand away and raises a brow at Y/N, jokingly taken back by her action. Y/N bites down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from giggling over how cute that look on his face was. 

“I have whipped cream that’s in a can, but it’s still good,” Y/N states, giving him a look that said ‘back off and let me do this’. Harry only chuckles again and nods. “Also slow down on the pretzels, if I don’t get any during the movie I’ll be very upset.”

“They’re addicting, sorry,” Harry mumbles through his mouth full of pretzels, a smile tugging at his mouth. 

“Trust me, I know. That’s like my fourth bag this week, I swear,” she states with a chuckle. 

As Y/N walks to her fridge Harry steps up to the mugs once more and takes a chance on the drawer directly under them for a spoon. His instincts are right as he pulls the drawer open to see her utensils; he grabs a teaspoon in order to stir the hot chocolate. Y/N turns back from the fridge with the whipped cream can in hand, turning around to see Harry focused on the mugs. She smiles, tilting her head as she watches him nudge the drawer closed with his hip, and begin to stir the contents of them till the powder was all mixed in with the water. Look at them being all domestic, she thinks. Licking her lips, she shakes her head a little and walks up to Harry, shaking the can of whipped cream and waits for him to finish stirring. He sets the spoon in the sink and watches as Y/N tops off the mugs with a heap of whipped cream. 

“You better actually eat the whipped topping this time,” Harry says to her teasingly, referring to when they had hot chocolate in the park, and she let her whipped cream melt. Y/N chuckles and brings the tip of the whipped cream can to her open mouth. 

She puts pressure on the top again and makes the sweet cream pile into her mouth as she tips her head back, the aerosol can is the only noise in the room as Harry watches her do it. His breath catches in his throat and he blinks several times as he imagines an entirely different scenario with this whipped cream can and her mouth. Y/N brings the whipped cream away from her mouth and swallows, watching Harry do the same thing - did she make him feel uncomfortable? She thinks to herself as she licks her lips and looks down at the ground. Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it, she thinks while walking back to the fridge to return the whipped cream to the shelf. When she turns back, she sees that Harry has both mugs in his hands. 

“Maybe I should just have both of these, since you’re probably full from that mouth full of whipped cream,” Harry teases her, bringing both mugs to his lips, acting as if he’s going to slurp up the whipped topping that’s nearly flowing over the side.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N gasps, reaching forward quickly for the Grinch mug, but Harry moves it out of her grasp faster. 

“I want the Grinch one,” he says with a slight whine to his voice. Y/N can’t stop the giggle this time, blushing afterwards as she thinks of how freaking adorable he is. 

“Fine,” she sighs and takes the Santa mug from him instead.  

Harry grins and lets her lead the way back into her living room, the bag of pretzels in his other hand. Y/N sets her mug down on the coaster on the coffee table, just like she had with her glass of wine the last time Harry was over. He watches as she sits cross legged on the floor in front of her tv stand. Y/N grabs the two movies she was debating over earlier in each hand and lifts them up for Harry to see. He loves them both of course. 

“Which one? I can’t decide,” Y/N states. Harry hums and lifts his mug to his lip to slurp up some whipped cream. 

“Elf,” Harry answers, “I’m in a Will Ferrel comedy kind of mood,” he adds. 

“Alright,” Y/N chuckles under her breath and turns away from Harry to open her DVD player and then open the case for Elf. He liked that she had the movies on physical DVD, not just clicking away on a streaming app. She places the DVD in the player and then closes it again before standing up quickly and skipping over to the couch, plopping down excitedly but gently that Harry isn’t even scared that he’ll spill his hot chocolate. 

“We can watch the other one next time,” Harry suggests, feeling brave in the moment as the trailers start to play softly on the screen and Y/N is reaching for the remote that sat on the coffee table. She looks at him and smiles.

“‘kay, yeah, next time,” she pauses but then points the remote at Harry. “But next time you’re hosting, I feel like we should switch it up sometimes,” she adds and waits to see Harry nod with a smile before she turns to the TV and gets to the main menu of the movie.

“Fair, I just think my place lacks the holiday cheer that we would want,” Harry explains. Y/N stops her from hitting play right away and leans back into the couch, flopping her head to the side to look at Harry. He’s still holding his mug, which reminds her that her own is sitting there untouched, so she sits up again and grabs it.

“Well you know what would fix that?” She questions, bringing the mug to her lips and slurping up some of the whipped cream that was in fact already melting. Harry watches her as her eyes are glued to her mug, focused on not spilling it over the sides it seems. 

“Decorations?” He asks, still watching her. He smiles as she licks her upper lip that’s covered in melting whipped cream.

“Exactly,” she nods enthusiastically. She takes another few sips of her hot chocolate before leaning back into her couch once again, getting all snuggled up before lifting the remote to the TV and hitting play.

“I’m not really good with decorating - my sister and mom did my apartment to be honest,” Harry admits. Y/N watches the opening scene of one of her favourite Christmas movies, feeling all giddy inside as it’s the first time she’s watching it this holiday season. She gets like this every year with every holiday movie.

“Well, I can help you out. Maybe we can do a little trip to Target before our next movie night. Then do a quick set up and then watch the movie after,” Y/N suggests, nervously peering over at Harry over the rim of her mug after. She doesn’t know if she’s crossing a line or anything. She just wants to spend more time with him, even if it’s just as friends. 

Harry gives Y/N a half smile, one of his dimples making an appearance as he looks into her eyes. He would love that, honestly. The idea of them wandering through the Christmas isles at Target as she gives him advice on what decorations would go together and fit his apartment style; they would set up the decorations after and he’d watch her be in her element. Maybe he’d put on some Christmas music and hope she would dance around. Harry gives Y/N a short nod. 

“I like that plan,” Harry tells her. 

Y/N smiles and nods back at him. “Then it’s a deal, we’ll set a time after the movie. It’s about to get good,” she says, looking back at the TV screen again as Will Ferrel’s character makes his appearance. 

“The whole movie is good,” Harry states. 

“Shh,” Y/N hushes him, taking another sip of her drink and keeping her eyes on the movie. Harry smiles and watches her watch Elf. He notices her hand gently tapping the cushion between them after a moment. Harry chuckles under his breath and nudges the bag of pretzels open, taking a few for himself before facing the bag her way. Once she’s got one between her teeth she feels completely content. 

She’s got a cup of yummy hot chocolate, her favourite snack, Christmas lights are twinkling around her, one of her favourite Christmas movies is playing, and she’s with good company too. In fact, she finds herself not once thinking of Mark the rest of the night. Even in her dreams, it’s Harry, again. 

They exchanged phone numbers. It’s not a big deal, Harry thinks to himself as he gets a third text from his newest contact in his phone. But it felt like a big deal; it was an easy way to get a hold of her whenever he needed to or wanted to even. Not that he would just bother her for no good reason. As much as he’d like to text with her all day, he knows that they really just exchanged phone numbers in order to plan to hangout easily. Like for today, Y/N had a long work day, but still wanted to take Harry Christmas decor shopping, so she was asking him if he could just meet her at the closest Target. 

There’s one a few blocks away from the apartment, I’ll send you the location, are you able to meet me there? She texts along with a Google Maps link to the store. Harry tapped out a response right away, letting his focus sway away from the TV show he had on when her name lit up his screen. 

Sounds good to me, what time? Harry hits send and notices the bubble with three dots pop up right away. She must have a moment at work right now; he checks the time to see it’s just past noon, assuming she’s on her lunch break. 

I should be leaving the office by 3pm today, then it’s like a 15 minutes subway ride and 5 minute walk to get there for me. So like 3:30ish, is that okay with you? Wait. Are you busy today? I didn’t even ask if you were working too, sorry. She sends the texts in a few separate bubbles, realizing that she didn’t even ask if Harry was working or not today. Y/N has no idea what the schedule of a songwriter was like. Harry chuckles at her little panic and types out his response. 

Super busy…. Watching mindless TV shows on Netflix. He adds a laughing emoji for good measure, to which Y/N replies with some of her own laughing emojis before saying God I wish that was how my day was going. 

Y/N ends up texting Harry her whole lunch break. He asks about what she’s been doing today, his responses seeming very interested in the adventures she has had in the office being a stand in model since her measurements were close to a clients. She then asks what show he’s watching, to which he tells her about this Netflix baking show called Sugar Rush and he tells her about the challenge the contestants on the most recent episode endured. Y/N finds herself smiling at her screen, nearly forgetting to even eat her lunch. Sammy clears his throat just a few minutes before their time is up and causes her to look up at him, raising her eyebrows at his own. 

“What?” She asks, stabbing her fork into the salad she had Sammy pick up for her earlier. 

“Nothing,” Sammy hums, Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just noticed you’ve been quite busy on that phone of yours for the past, oh, I don’t know, twenty five minutes,” Sammy teases her, eyes widening slightly and motioning his hands in the air with his words. He did that a lot, talking with his hands, that is. 

“So?” Y/N tries to brush off her friend's pushy behaviour. 

“So? Really? We’re just going to act as if you’re not giggling at your phone screen like a little school girl?” Sammy questions. 

“I am not doing that,” Y/N huffs. 

“Yeah, sure, sweetie and I’m straight,” Sammy rolls his eyes dramatically and then pouts while shaking his body in his seat. Y/N furrows her brows at his behaviour. “I live off your love life. Please give me something, anything. Please just tell me that you’re talking to that hot neighbour of yours and let me continue on my merry little day knowing that your love life is about to be thriving while mine is dead.” 

Y/N sighs and tries to ignore as her phone vibrates again, signalling that Harry had texted her back. She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over his chest, covering the deep v-cut of her black body suit that she was wearing with a pair of red slim legged slacks, and a matching red blazer that was currently laying over the back of the chair she sat in. Amanda didn’t have any sort of dress code for work, merely to come in looking professional and stylish, which for Y/N, meant a good pant suit moment every once in a while. But with still keeping it sexy and young by pairing it with a bodysuit. 

“Fine, I’m texting Harry,” Y/N tells Sammy, feeding into his gossip need for the day. “We actually hung out two night ago, he came over for a movie night-”

“What?! Why am I just hearing about this now?” Sammy questions, sitting up quickly and throwing his hands in the air. “What happened? Touching? Did you kiss? Oh my lord, tell me what his peni-”

“Sammy! Oh my god, relax, please,” Y/N cuts him off, putting a hand up to stop him from talking. “Nothing happened. Sorry to disappoint, but I am still in a relationship with Mark. Harry just came over, we made some hot chocolate and polished off a bag of those delicious candy cane pretzels.”

“Those pretzels are good,” Sammy nods in agreement.

“Yeah,” Y/N nods, “but anyways, nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen. We’re just friends, and I enjoy being around him a lot. So, today after work we’re going to Target to buy his apartment some decorations, then we’ll probably order in some food and watch another movie.” 

“Sounds pretty couple-y to me,” Sammy says in a high pitched tone. Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her friend again. 

Y/N couldn’t lie, though. The few hours later in Target, they looked like a couple. Harry pushes the cart down the aisle while she tilts her head and debates which tinsel really fit Harry’s aesthetic. She brings the Starbucks cup to her lips and sips the warm caramel flavoured latte. Y/N was pleasantly surprised when she saw Harry walking up to her outside the Target with two Starbucks holiday cups in his hand. He gave her a timid smile and explained what both of the drinks were, saying he hadn’t tasted either and wanted to see what she wanted first before taking the other for himself. It was unexpected and ridiculously sweet of him to do. 

“I think red would look really nice around your apartment, kind of spice up the place a little,” Y/N explains, her free hand skimming over the many different tinsels that were hanging up before her. Harry agrees, red would look nice in his apartment and spice things up a lot, except his mind is thinking of this red pant suit she’s wearing right now. He thinks it would look rather nice on his bedroom floor.

When she walked up to him and he took in her outfit, he nearly tripped over his own feet and spilled the two coffees he brought with him. But he kept himself together, well, sort of. He stumbled over his words, rambled like a fool about why he got the two coffees for her, but they finally got into the store, which now, he’s just been checking her out as they walked to the Christmas section. Get it together, Harry thinks to himself. 

“Red’s nice,” Harry says, his voice cracking slightly. So, he clears his throat and steps away from the cart to pick up a piece of tinsel that Y/N was looking at. “I like the bit of silver mixed in too,” he comments. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” she says with a smile before grabbing four more of the same one and adding it to the cart. Harry does the same with the one in his hand and then puts his hands on the cart once more, pushing it back and forth just a few inches. Harry can’t stop himself from admiring that suit once more as she bends down to check out the many different boxes of tree ornaments. 

“Which ones?” Y/N asks, quickly turning her body. Y/N catches his gaze on her body, but Harry blinks quickly and meets her stare. The corner of her lips tug up into a smug smile at the thought of Harry checking her out. 

“The ones in your, uh, your right hand,” Harry answers her questions, clearing his throat again and watching as she stands straight before putting the ornaments into the cart. 

They continue their way through Target, still looking very much like a couple as they grab a few bags of the candy cane pretzels that Y/N got Harry hooked on the other night before heading to the check out. Harry insists on paying for the few little items of Y/N’s in the cart, telling her over and over again that it wasn’t a huge deal. He almost doesn’t let her carry a single thing, but she quickly gets a hold of a standing Santa decoration that was too big for a bag and hugs it to her chest their whole walk home. 

Harry unlocks his apartment door for them, noticing how their neighbour Mr Matthers is opening his at the same time to peer out and see who’s in the hallway. Harry holds open the door for Y/N, she thanks him in a small voice and smiles at him. Looking back out into the hallway, Harry waves at Mr Matthers, who simply returns it with a scowl on his face before Harry steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Suppose their neighbour is a bit jealous of Harry, he’s seen the way he looks at Y/N. Hell, especially today in that suit, everyone on the street was looking at Y/N with wide eyes and big smiles - Harry felt like quite the lucky guy, little did everyone know they were in fact not together. Just friends, Harry reminds himself for the millionth time. 

“Oh, I love the tree,” Y/N states, her voice bringing Harry back to Earth as he locks the door and walks over to his coffee table to set down the many bags in his arms. Y/N is still holding the Santa decoration to her chest, looking at the fake Christmas tree he had purchased on Amazon yesterday on a whim. He was thinking about them decorating together again, and thought that it wouldn’t feel right if he didn't have a tree too. It’s a good thing he told Y/N over text, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten ornaments or anything for it. 

“Yeah, I just got the first one that included lights on Amazon, to be honest,” Harry tells her. Y/N chuckles and walks over, setting the Santa decoration just beside the tree gently. 

She brushes a hand over the tree and smiles, “it’s wonderful, really pulls the whole festive look together in my opinion.”

“I agree,” Harry nods. He grabs for the TV remote and turns it on, quickly turning the volume down before he sets it up to the music channels - clicking on the Christmas tunes without a second thought. Y/N watches Harry, her heart hammering in her chest as the soft sounds of Michael Buble fills the room. Mark would never do any of this - he wouldn’t voluntarily put on Christmas music, ever. In fact, he shut off the station in her car on the way to the airport. And he definitely wouldn’t decorate with her either, seeing as he thinks that her apartment looks childish. She pouts at the thought of her and Mark’s phone call the other day. He hasn’t called or texted her since.

“Did you not want to listen to Christmas music?” Harry asks suddenly, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts and turns to look at him. He’s taking off his jacket, revealing a white shirt underneath with a bumble bee and some blue writing around it, paired with his purple trousers and a pair of white socks on his feet after slipping out of his shoes too. Y/N loves his simple yet not basic style.

“No, no,” Y/N assures him, finally unbuttoning her blazer now and taking off the mittens and beanie she had worn in the cold. She stuffs them into the blazer pocket and slips out of it. “I love Christmas music so much, honestly maybe a little too much, Mark hates it,” she admits. 

A shiver falls over her body as she realizes then she’s simply in the rather thin bodysuit that also dipped very low in the front. Y/N doesn’t look at Harry as she feels her nipples harder from the coolness of his apartment, embarrassed as she didn’t prepare for her attire after going out. Harry suddenly lifts up a hand, his pointer finger up as if to say ‘one second’, then he’s walking down the hallways and returns not even a minute later with a black sweater in hand. 

“It’s clean, just washed today, I promise,” Harry tells her, holding out one of his favourite jumpers for her. He had been given a few merchandising pieces from the label over the years and this plain black jumper that read ‘Columbia’ on the front in white has been in his possession for a couple years now. In his opinion, it was very comfortable due to how much he’s worn it.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly while taking it from him. 

She puts it on and is immediately warmer. Her hands cover completely because of how long the sleeves are and it falls down past her bum too, due to the large size. She looks good, Harry thinks as he takes in her wearing his clothing. Y/N smiles and turns to grab things from the Target bags they had just brought in. 

“Okay, let’s begin with the tree then,” she says excitedly, trying to clap her hands together but just ends up smacking the sleeves of Harry’s hoodie together.

It’s just as Harry imagined it. The soft lights from the Christmas tree glow over the shadows of Y/N’s face as she wraps the red tinsel around the base of it before passing it to Harry in order for him to reach the taller portion of the tree. She dances when Jingle Bell Rock plays on the TV, his jumper swaying around her body because of how big it is on her. They’re both smiling and singing along to the music, jokingly of course. Harry wasn’t about to show her all his little secrets and start belting out White Christmas along with the singers of Wham!

“Can you pass me a couple of the silver balls?” Y/N asks Harry, her eyes on the tree as she put the last red ball ornament she had grabbed onto a branch. Harry raises his eyebrows in a joking manner. 

“The what?” He questions, but still making his way to where the array of different coloured ball ornaments laid on the couch. 

“Like two of the balls,” she says again. Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling up and his dimples fully showing as he does. Y/N furrows her brows, but then gets why he’s laughing. “You’re a child,” she scolds him playfully. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry states, grabbing two of the ornaments she’s asking for and passing them to her. 

“Thank you for the balls, Harry,” she says. They both end up laughing this time, she can’t help it. His laughter is contagious with how his eyes squint up and his dimple somehow deepens, not to mention the little vocal ‘aha’ he does before laughing. It makes Y/N’s stomach ache, not from laughing too, but with the butterflies. Those stupid little butterflies that have made a home inside of her stomach since meeting this kind, handsome, British man. 

Once the tree is done, Y/N beats Harry to ordering them food. They decide on getting sushi, which is something she could never order with Mark since he has this personal vendetta against seafood for some reason. But Mark isn’t on her mind for long. It’s all Harry, all the freaking time. She likes how he beams a winning smile at the delivery guy and thanks him three times in the sixty seconds he’s at his door, and how he barely pays his phone any attention the whole night besides when it chimes with a few texts that he explains is his workmates group chat. Now, she can’t stop watching him chew his food; how his jaw flexes with each bite and how his eyebrows furrow when he can’t get the chopsticks to grab the California roll he wanted. Why do I find him eating so attractive? Y/N shakes her head slightly and forces herself to look back at the TV that’s playing the Sugar Rush show on Netflix that Harry was texting her about earlier. 

Harry collects their take out containers after a few moments to ensure that Y/N is done, asking her just to be sure she doesn’t want the two pieces that are left over. She thanks him, but says no, and he manages to grab all five containers in one trip to the kitchen. His mom most definitely raised him well, Y/N thinks as she lays back on his couch and watches the TV show. It suddenly hits Y/N, his brows pulling together as she pushes herself to sit up and turns her body to look behind her through the open concept to look at Harry. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” She asks him. Y/N assumed home was England, besides obvious factors, but she remembers him telling her about driving in London once. Harry brushes his hands on a tea towel that's hanging off his stove before turning to walk back into the living room. 

“Um, no, not this year,” Harry says. 

“Oh, do you typically go home and visit your family? You mentioned your mom and sister had decorated this place though, do they live here?” She throws the other questions his way as he walks around the couch and sits in his spot again. 

“They all live in England, yeah,” he nods, “my mom, my step dad, older sister and her boyfriend all flew out here with me to help me settle in the few years back when I got my job. But I do usually go home for holidays, or just casually during the summer. Earlier this year I had to make an unexpected trip,” Harry pauses and clears his throat as he looks away from Y/N as he feels that familiar pain in his chest, “my step dad passed away. So it just took a bit of money out of my account, I decided not to fork out the money for expensive flights during the holidays.”

Hearing that Harry had lost his step dad recently torn Y/N’s heart in two. She frowns, taking a deep breath before reaching over and placing a hand over Harry’s that rested folded in his lap. Harry looks at where their skin touched, it felt like his hands were vibrating under her touch. She swipes her thumb over his knuckles, the touch so soft like a feather just barely skimming over his skin. Harry has to stop himself from flipping his hand over slowly and intertwining their fingers together. She has a boyfriend, she’s just being a good person and comforting a friend. 

“I’m very sorry to hear about your step dad, Harry,” she soft and gentle voice, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his knuckle again as she watches him inhale deeply through his nose. 

Harry clears his throat of the threatening tears and shakes his head slightly, a piece of his hair falling onto his forehead as he does. He takes one of his hands and lays it over Y/N’s, giving it a few pats. Tonight had been good

and fun, and he didn’t want to go ruining the mood with his tears. So, he lifts his head and looks at Y/N, finding her somber eyes staring at him already. He forces a smile, licking his lips before clearing his throat again. 

“Thank you,” he says, “I don’t want to make this good night all emotional now, so yeah, the short answer is I’m not leaving the city for the holidays this year. I do have a trip planned in March to see my mum for mothers day though,” Harry explains, rubbing Y/N’s hand that’s between his. 

Y/N mirrors his smile, although it’s not as full as usual, a bit sad still as she thinks about what Harry and his family must’ve gone through this year - and that his mother won’t see her son her first Christmas without her husband to top it all off. Maybe she could buy his flights? But no, no she couldn’t, she thinks sadly. They sit there like that for another moment, her hand between his much larger once, and they stare at each other. Finally, Y/N lets out a sigh and tries to get out of her head before she ends up crying. Harry lets go of her hand slowly, and she brings both hands to her face to brush back her hair. Harry does the same to get the strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead back into place. 

“Well I’m glad you can go see your mom for mothers day, at least,” Y/N says, looking at the positive. Harry nods and then leans back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch to stretch out.

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees, “she’s already telling me all about the plans she’s made for my trip and talks my ear right off as if it’s happening tomorrow.” Harry tells Y/N with a chuckle.

Hearing his little laugh brings a real smile to her face this time. “I’m sure she’s counting the days till you fly in,” Y/N says. She is starting to feel a little tired as she lays back on the couch, laying her legs out on the chaise. Harry watches as she pulls the sleeves of his jumper back down, she had rolled them up while eating so they didn’t get in the way, but he likes the sweater paw look on her as she snuggles into the couch. 

“Do you spend Christmas at home still?” Harry asks her, keeping his voice soft as he realizes it’s gotten late and both their eyelids are getting heavy. 

“My parents have something on Christmas Eve, sometimes I spend the night, other times I make my way home,” she exclaims vaguely. 

Y/N doesn’t love her times at home anymore; she finds her parents ‘I’m too rich for anything' attitude to be tiresome. As she grew up into her own person, she realized the privilege she had with the wealth she grew up with. She started to see how pointless some parties her mother threw, and how little she would have to try to just coast through life. Y/N didn’t want to grow up like every other bratty kid on the Upper East Side, so she moved out right after graduation, got into fashion school, focused on herself, and earned her own money - all while learning of how to use her privilege for good, like donating her time and money to good causes. Something her parents only did to look good within their social circle. 

So, going back home for over the top holiday parties, getting gifted a new car every year, and seeing her parents throw their money at whatever, really only bothered her more than anything. Y/N would simply stop in for Christmas Eve, enjoy a few hours with family and then go home to her own world again. 

A yawn slips past Y/N’s mouth as she’s deep in thought, which then makes Harry yawn as the both of them bring their hands to cover their mouth and then letting out soft laughter afterwards. Y/N sits up and stretches both arms above her head. “I guess I should head home,” she says before standing up slowly. 

“Yeah, you’ve got a long way to go,” Harry jokes. 

“Oh yeah, it’ll take me ages,” Y/N adds onto the joke with a smile. “Thank you for having me over, I really enjoyed it,” she says. 

Harry nods, “well thank you for helping me with all this,” he says, motioning to the decorating they had done. They both glance around the room then at their work. The red and silver decor matched Harry’s aesthetic perfectly, just as Y/N thought it would. 

“We didn’t watch Polar Express,” Y/N realizes suddenly, pouting. 

“Next time, Y/N,” Harry chuckles. She huffs and lets out a sigh, muttering a quiet ‘fine’ before making her way towards his front door. Harry follows behind her, planning to lock the door and listen till she gets into her own apartment before getting ready for bed. 

“Should I text you when I’m home safe? It’s just so far away,” Y/N continues to joke around, causing Harry to smile as he watches her grab her blazer and slip into her shoes. 

“You never know, Mr Matthers across the hall could intercept you on the way home and kidnap you. I wouldn’t sleep till I got that text knowing you got home safely,” Harry says, half joking. Cause you never know with Mr Matthers, he thinks. Y/N laughs and hugs her blazer to her stomach while standing beside the door, reaching for the handle but keeping her gaze on him.

“Mr Matthers is harmless,” Y/N says. 

“He’s obsessed with you,” Harry counters back. Y/N just rolls her eyes and unlocks the door before swinging it open. 

“Goodnight Harry,” she says sweetly. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry says back with a smile. She mirrors his smile and then walks off into the hallway. Harry watches the door shut behind her and walks over to lock it before turning off the few lights in the living room and entryway. As he is turning off his TV his phone buzzes with an incoming text. 

Made it home safely and in bed! Sweet dreams read Y/N’s text sent seconds ago. Harry breathes out a chuckle as he walks down the hallway to his bathroom to begin his nightly routine. As he turns on the light for his bathroom he types back a response. Cheeky.. Sweet dreams Y/N. He turns off the screen before he stands there and waits for her to reply with anything, his heart would even flutter over an emoji.

He was so far gone for this girl, he couldn’t stop himself from falling any longer - but it had felt inevitable from the moment his eyes had met hers in the elevator.  

>> part three <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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[marvel-ousnesss]

Unrequited (Valerio x reader)

Warnings: angst, use of drugs, alcohol, cursing, cheating, breakup, mentions of Valerio x Lucrecia 

Word count: 2000-ish

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hadn't been motivated to write anything until recently. As always, I love to hear comments, thoughts and feedback. Also, thank you so much for supporting my work, hope you enjoy 💜

Masterlist

Request

“Stop it, Valerio.” You abruptly close the book you're holding, eyeing the teacher as you place it on the desk. “They won't even let me get out of the house.”

He had been nagging you all week long about some party he was dying to go to, and you wanted to, really. The only problem was that, a few days ago, the two of you had dragged Guzman on a nightly adventure to the beach, which seemed right at the moment, since he had spent the whole summer sulking. Your dad practically had to drag you home by an ear, and, to say the least, your family didn’t wanna hear a beat about parties or your friends any time soon.

He scoffs, “seriously? Your parents are like the chillest people ever, they weren’t even that mad.”

Incredulous, you look at him up and down, betrayed by the amused grin that flicks on the corner of your lips. “Just checking, were you there on Thursday? One step out of line, and I'll be walking around with an ankle monitor.”

“Y/N, Valerio, is my class, perchance, interrupting your conversation? Should I take it elsewhere?”

With a quick apology and a glare at your boyfriend, cutting the conversation was cut short. However, it was naive to think he'd just settle for the answer you had given him.

“Whatever, Y/N," he grumbles. "I’m sure They'll let you if I,” he frames his face and smiles coyly, “am the one who asks.”

"Geez, why didn't I think of that!". Turning the page of your textbook, you deadpan. "Oh, right, dick-in-a-sock incident.”

Valerio lowers himself on his seat as his face embraces a new tone of crimson. After a second, he recovers. “Can't believe you brought up that teeny-tiny mistake of mine. Low, Y/L/N, even for you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the bell rings.

When it stops, you continue, “Seriously, V, they've been all over me these last few days, it's a long shot.”

Both of you get out of the classroom and begin to make your way to the lockers. “Just tell them Polo’s gonna be there, don’t they love Polo?”

You sigh, checking the time on your phone. You only have fifteen minutes before your next class began, and, honestly, lack the energy to spend them trying to knock some sense into your mule of a boyfriend.

“Fine,” you settle. “I’ll call them in a minute. But, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late.” With a captivating smile, he leans in and pecks your cheek.

After you agreed to at least call your parents, Valerio's mood improved considerably the rest of the day. The rest of the classes went by uneventfully; before you knew it, you found yourself in the car, duffle in hand, on your way to the Montesinos'.

You arrive at their house and let yourself inside, leaving your stuff at the door and heading straight to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. When you turn around to face the stairs, Lu’s making her way down.

"So, how did you manage to dodge your sentence this time?"

"Haggled my freedom, sort of." You place a glass on the table and open the fridge to fetch a bottle of sparkling water.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, exasperated. "A call from my dad would’ve done it".

"Thanks, but it wasn’t that bad, really, " you assure, pouring some water into the glass then cutting a lemon in half. "Just have to take my brother to some birthday party next week and, in exchange, they gave me their blessing for Valerio's thing, and let me stay at yours after."

"God, Y/N, you complain about my brother 24/7 and, in the end, the two of you are just as stubborn."She grabs an apple and takes a bite. "You could've saved yourself the trouble completely."

"Oh, well."You take a seat by the kitchen bar. "Guess it takes one to know one."

"Anyway, what are you wearing tonight?"

You unlock your phone and browse through the gallery. When you find the picture, you stop and point a finger at her. "You're gonna hate me. " You show her the screen smiling from ear to ear.

"Oh, my fucking god, Y/N! How- I- is that the Valentino you were drooling over the other day?"

You just grin.

"You, bitch, how did you get your hands on that?"

"Aunt Millicent."

"Of course," she huffs.

"Turns out that there were a few perks of her going off to Milan." You shrug. "But that's not important right now, what are you gonna wear?"

With that. she drags you up the stairs and into her room. You spend the rest of the afternoon immersed in makeup experiments and debates about fashion until Valerio and Guzman shout your names to start pregaming.

You enter the party together and go straight to the most vacant area of the VIP zone. After grabbing the first round, you join the others at the table and sit down with Polo and Carla for a few drinks. The group remains wrapped in conversation until Ander walks up to his friends and drags them to the bar, probably to tell them about his most recent disagreement with Omar. Soon after, Lucrecia makes eye contact with Nadia, muttering something about her daring to come, and standing up with a huff. Knowing she's physically incapable of keeping herself out of trouble, Carla stands up with a roll of her eyes and follows her.

Valerio lets his arm fall around you and chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. "And then, there were two."

���Wanna get high?" You don't wait for him to answer verbally. Instead, you grab his hands and pull the two of you to stand up.

He laughs, grabbing a bottle of whatever was on the table beside yours.

The two of you sprinted to the nearest restroom in a fit of giggles and lock the door behind you. He puts the bottle on the counter and reaches his pockets, freezing as soon as he lifts his gaze. You dig into your clutch and shake a small bag in his face.

"My treat," you grin, resembling a kid in a candy store.

"Oh, my, little miss Y/LN!" he gasps in fake horror. "What happened to the ankle monitor you were telling me about."

"I won’t tell if you won’t."You smirk, carefully arranging the lines.

The party comes to an end a few minutes before sunrise. You reunite with Lucrecia and Guzman by the entrance of the club and the four of you get in the Montesinos' car. Your head rests on Valerio's chest and he traces lazy patterns on the skin of your arm and shoulder.

When you make it to the house, Lucrecia doesn't waste a minute to drag a tipsy Guzman upstairs, waving a quick goodbye on her way. You giggle, well aware of your friends' plans for the night. Then, you head to the kitchen for a snack.

"Confess it." Your boyfriend stares at you from the stairs, arms crossed over his chest. "The only reason you ever visit is that we have a better pantry."

"To be honest, I thought you already knew that." You grab a pack of chips and walk toward his bedroom, passing by him and kissing his nose softly.

You don't fall asleep that night, writhing in Valerio's arms and debating whether or not to go find something for the hangover that was already beginning to haunt you. When you open your eyes, the first rays of sunlight are already peeking through the window. You decide to get out of bed. You throw the blanket off you and turn, expecting to see your boyfriend, but only find a mess of his blankets instead. You check the time on your cell phone: 8:22 a.m.

Seeing no point in continuing your attempts to get some sleep, you put on the shirt that was laying on Valerio's desk chair and leave the room. As you're crossing the hall to the pool, you hear noises coming through Lucrecia's door. For a moment, you think it may be her and Guzman, but remember hearing him say that he had to go home at dawn to get to a swimming competition.

You try to ignore the noise and convince yourself it's none of your business; but, when you continue to walk away, your ears are invaded by a voice you knew quite well. "It couldn't, they can't-, they're...", a million thoughts invade you. You take a deep breath and to open the door.

There are no words to describe the feeling of your heart being ripped in the blink of an eye. Your legs threaten to collapse and blood rushes to your head, making you dizzy for a brief moment. Not only do you find your boyfriend in the bed, with an unreadable expression coating his face, but you find your best friend redhanded, looking right at you like a deer in headlights.

You don't even try to digest the scene; instead, you run out of the house, suddenly not caring about your current apparel. Part of you wanted to shout what you had seen, to ruin them, but they meant too most to you. You couldn't do it, no matter how much you wanted to get it off your chest.

Luckily, your house was empty. You went straight upstairs and locked yourself in your room for the rest of the morning. You did whatever you could to take your head off what you had seen, but nothing worked. In the end, you wrote it down, desperate to get it out somehow. You hadn't opened your diary since you were twelve, but it was relieving; a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

You spend the remaining of the day so deep in thought, that you didn't even notice your family arriving from the park. You drifted off to sleep after working on some homework, only to be woken up by our brother's voice.

"Y/N, your boyfriend's here!" Hearing the word sends a jab of pain through your body. However, you reply, "I'll be down in a second."

You put on a hoodie, some shoes and leave the fort that was your room. Your parents are focused on a movie, so you take the opportunity to step into the backyard with Valerio.

You face him, trying to appear emotionless, even if your bloodshot eyes give you away.The childish gleam in his face is nowhere to be found, his shoulders are more drooping than normal, and his eyes are almost as red as yours. You wonder if it's because of the crying or the cocaine.

“How long?”

“Before I went abroad.”

You attempt to walk back into the house, but he grabs and pulls your arm, begging you to stay and listen.

You sigh. “I won't say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He stays silent for a few seconds, bringing himself to believe that your thoughts on him were actually that low. Then he mumbles, “I don’t care about that, I know it’s unorthodox, and that you’re probably gonna stop talking to us now, and-“

You didn’t have the energy to hear him ramble. “Look, yes, I’m really shaken, to say the least, it's the first time I’ve seen something like that.” You grimaced. “But, the point is you betrayed my trust, V! Completely!” Your voice shakes, you try to clear your throat but it comes out as a sob. “I- even if it hadn’t been her, you hurt me. You promised you’d never do it, but you did!

He takes your hands, and, even if you don’t resist, feels how tense that makes you. Hours prior, it would’ve been comforting. “And I’m sorry, really. I did it without thinking, Y/N/N, it won’t happen again.”

You pull your hands out of his. “Please, V, it’s been happening for more than a year, half of the time we’ve been dating.”

He stays quiet.

You quietly question, “do you still love me?”

This time, his bottom lip quivers and his voice cracks when he answers. “I care about you, a lot, you know that.”

That’s the last you bear to hear. You avert your eyes from him. “I forgive you. You can go now.”

“Y/N/N…” He moves closer to you, but you shake your head, stopping him.

“Please,” you croak.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 10)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296 , @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7)

Warnings: adorable jerks.

As the sun finally came up (for what it felt like an eternity, a night with seven nights inside of it), you rubbed your eyes and greeted your teammates, who somehow were both already up and having breakfast.

“I was wondering when would you join us”, said Loki, covering his mouth with the manners of a Prince while eating a piece of something. “Barnes made dessert for breakfast”, pointed out more amazed than reproachful.

“Desert?”, you laughed. “A cake?”.

“Yes”, said Loki, very sure of himself, and Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled, correcting him.

“It’s a pancake, Loki. It’s a normal breakfast in Midgard”.

“Actually, probably just in this country”, you added. “What do you normally have in Asgard?”. As you chattered, you started getting ready and fixing your hair, stealing a piece of pancake from Bucky’s plate. “Wow, I didn’t know you could cook. It’s actually great”, you said, tasting a mouthful.

“Well, as in Midgard’s nordic areas, back home it’s often fruit and bread, or porridge with dried fruits” he recalled distracted, and immediately interrupted himself with “are we not supposed to alert the rest of this?”.

“About Buck knowing how to cook? Yeah, I’m impressed, we should tell everyone”.

“I guess we should’ve told them yesterday, instead of going to sleep”, said Bucky, ignoring you. “Only God knows where that supersoldier is now”.

“I don’t, actually”.

“I didn’t mean... nevermind”, he sighed. “I'm calling Stark and let’s hope we don’t get too yelled at”.

You recalled yesterday’s events. You had so many dreams, you could barely remember being awake at all. First, the bearded man’s nightmare. Then, something about… the compound? Then, you remembered distinctly, Loki speaking Old Norse begging Thor about something. You remembered the phonetic of the words, but they were all gibberish now. Then, a last dream, something about buying rotten apples and being forced to eat them by Thanos. Your imagination surely was active on the nights.

Loki seemed paler than usual as he stared at you, without even blinking.

“What?”, you snapped him out of your head.

“You dreamt with me?”, he muttered, getting up and cleaning his plate with a snap.

"I also dreamt with Thanos".

“Don’t get too attached, I’ll be back to Asgard soon”, he promised, or alerted. Intentions unclear.

“I’m not attached”, you protested. You thought he’d smirk or be the smug idiot he usually was. He didn’t. Instead, he looked unsettled; disturbed even. “I didn’t dream with you on purpose, it was probably because of yesterday’s thing”.

“What thing?”, peeped in Bucky. “Oh no, did you two fuck?”.

“I didn’t let them die, big deal. I was just saving myself the amount of annoyance it would be to have Stank on my neck all week long if your blood was sort of in my hands”.

“Sounds like a lot of deflecting emotions to me, buddy”, said Bucky, and you chuckled.

“He’s just embarrassed he saw himself cry in one of my dreams from last night”, you mocked. He got up and you didn’t get to see his face, but presumed it would hold something near a death threat.

“You two have an intense bonding experience and decide to concentrate on it with more insults? You know, this is why you’re single”, added Bucky.

“It wasn’t a bonding experience”, you said, cutting-glass sharpness in your gaze.

“I’m not single”, corrected Loki at the same time, with an equally whetted voice.

Both Bucky and you looked at him with plate-wide eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t. Neither of you asked, but surely shared a fair amount of desire to gossip about it. Oh, how much you wished to be able to tell Bucky about Loki re-reading Hamlet to reminisce about his beloved. But there was a line you wouldn’t cross in there; you knew where to stop.

“Mr. Stark”, you called through the earbud, “you there, sir?”.

“Painfully”, he answered. You connected the earbud to your phone and held it on speaker, so the rest of the team could join. “Tell me more about what I’m gonna yell at you three about”.

As you walked him through (almost) every event in the past twenty four hours, you could feel how his hands traveled all the way up to his face, and had to hold in a few sighs of disgust and utter hate towards… Well, you weren’t sure towards what, exactly.

“Are we grounded, dad?”, spat Loki with sarcasm.

“Listen, Rock Of Ages, if I could, I’d have you in a prison cell still to this day. Don’t push any buttons”.

“Come on, it’s been, what, nine years since he last fucked up something in here?” you defended him, not quite sure why. Loki grew nervous as Tony laughed obnoxiously at him.

“Sure. He didn’t keep fucking things up in here after that”.

“I can assure you I didn’t. How Odin manages his deals with Midgard does not concern me”, explained Loki, and you frowned at the mention of that name. Of course, Loki Odinson. That was where that name resonated from. Besides the Mythology. Though you weren't sure until where those stories were true or not; in there, Loki wasn't even Thor's brother.

“Going back to your current screw up, what happened to the civilians you frightened in the process? I imagine they didn’t realize about the new supersoldiers”.

“They should be extremely blind or idiotic to not have noticed, since the soldier jumped out of nine floors and survived”, answered Loki, looked at you up and down, and kept going “so, no. They have probably slept on it”.

“Wait, what?”.

“What?”.

“Nine floors? Pretty sure Capsicle and Barnes wouldn’t survive that either”.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”, you asked, concerned.

“I’m afraid so. Loki and Bucks won’t cut it, especially when we don’t know the number of new super-supersoldiers out there. And you’re coming back to the compound, directing the mission from the distance”.

“Are you kidding? I’m fine here. I’m all levels of mean, you said it yourself”.

“You’re too young and inexperienced in combat for these kinds of things, and they have special genetic advantages in their bodies, you know, the serum”, explained Tony as you rolled your eyes. But you understood exactly what he meant, and in fact, you agreed. “Do you understand?”.

“Yes; supersoldiers and Gods only”.

“Good kid. Now, Teleporting Popsicle, would you mind taking there with you the rest?”.

With an overly dramatic sigh, Loki vanished behind a party of green lights and reappeared in a matter of seconds in the same spot, holding carelessly Thor and Steve’s arms. Thor, for obvious reasons, was unfazed by the trip. Rogers, on the other hand, seemed about to throw up. There wasn’t anything balance would help with when your cells are reconfigurated inside and out in a fraction of a second. How the hell did he do all of that? You knew it was magic, but it still wouldn’t stop you from being absolutely astonished by it.

Loki arranged his hair behind his ears and locked eyes with you, followed by his typical smugly smile and a “thank you”, as if you were praising him in your thoughts. Oh, wait.

“I didn’t say anything”, you retorted, hoping to maintain at least a drop of pride left.

“You thought I was impressive”. You were going to correct him but realized that absolutely astonished was even worse.

“And since when do you offer gratitude?”.

“In case you wonder, yes, they’ve been like this the whole mission. You’ll get used to it”, said Bucky to Steve and Thor.

They started arranging their things and got updated as thoroughly as they could. Meanwhile, you stood exactly where you were the following ten minutes, absorbed in your own thoughts. Once you snapped out of them, Loki was still staring at you, standing in the same place too.

“What?”.

“I hate to break it to you, but…”.

“What?”.

“I’m your best option”.

“You’re my what?”.

“Your best option”.

“You’re not giving much context”.

“You’re going back to the compound. I figured you’d think about the mission or something about it for the past ten minutes you were zoned out, but apparently you only have room to think about how terrified you’re of that quinjet”.

Your palms got sweaty and a shiver ran through your spine by the only thought of remembering how heights felt under your feet, and how a simple machine wouldn’t stop you from landing on water and drowning, or crushing against a building and being burned to the bones until all you become is dust and…

“Hello? You’re spiraling again”, he snapped you back. “It’ll be just a blink. You won’t even notice”.

“Uh-uh. No, I’m not doing that. I’m waiting for whatever Tony sends to come and get me”.

“You’ll feel terrible”, he said, and he was right. For a moment, you considered accepting his offer. “And I’m the best”. His humble offer.

“I’m sure you are, but it’s not my best option”.

He sighed.

“Will you allow me to teleport you or not?”.

“Heavens, no”.

“Alright, you little stubborn human mortal”.

“Long nickname, you better come up with a shorter one”.

“Like what?”.

“I don’t know, something that bothers you. I’m not the one supposed to make your insults towards me”.

“Let me think”, he said, looking around the room. His gaze landed on the still unwashed plate of Bucky’s breakfast. “Pancake”.

“Not... that’s not an insult”.

“Why? They’re too sugary. They rot your teeth”.

“Yeah, but it’s not derogatory”.

“Fucking pancake”.

“It doesn’t cut it”.

“But what’s wrong with my pancake?”.

“It’s actually a pet name. You know, like the ones we said when we were in...”, but apparently that was all a distraction (of course, he was the God of Lies, after all), and when you were already thinking about how to explain to him why he shouldn’t call you pancake, he stood in front of you and held you by both sides of the arms, surrounding you almost completely, holding you still.

And just as he said, a blink later you were in the compound, perfectly fine. Peter and Tony greeted you as he pulled out and you stood there in shock. So, you really just needed some stabilization to not die in the intricate process of teleportation. Just before stepping away from you, he leaned over your shoulder and his whisper made your ear ticklish, saying “you’re welcome” with a grin. You didn’t look at him.

You started to gather all your stuff; papers, maps, laptops, and getting ready for the planning of the following steps of the mission as fast as you could, until you realized Loki was still there, and Tony and Peter were waiting for you. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Aren’t you going?”, you asked Loki.

“No, I’m staying, apparently”.

“Why?”.

“That’s what Stark was thinking, I don’t know”.

“Hey, Elsa, don’t read my mind, would you?”, snapped Tony. He was about to explain himself, but you kept talking to Loki, cutting his words.

“What’s wrong with you that you read everyone’s thoughts all the time? You know how unethical that is? It’s invasive”.

“You say that because you think slow”.

“Untrue, I’m actually a very fast thinker”.

“How would you know? You’ve never read anyone’s minds so, how could you possibly…?”.

You stopped dead on your tracks, and didn’t listen to what he was saying. That phrase. That exact phrase you dreamt with. The darkness. It was the exact same voice of the darkness, you remembered. It wasn’t darkness, it was his voice. Were you just imagining things? Too suggestionated? Definitely. How could you dream with something you’ve never heard before?

“Sorry to interrupt, you two seem to be having a long, unnecessary and avoidant conversation that could be resumed in three tiny words, as you did all mission long” interfered Tony, sick of listening to you two. Loki was observing you as heedful as he could; your thoughts had caught his attention. You couldn’t read his face. “So, I’m gonna cut it shortly”.

“What?”, you went back to reality. You needed to actively ignore Loki’s gaze on you to actually pay any mind to Tony’s words.

“The rest of the team has another mission, and both Peter and you are technically still kids…” and as soon as you opened your mouth to argue, he shut it “no, don’t interrupt me. You know I’m right. So, I can’t leave you two alone for the entire week”.

“Oh”, you understood. Peter’s innocent eyes shone at the idea. Yours, not so much. “So, Loki is our babysitter”.

“Yes”, said Loki, while Tony answered “No” at the same time.

"What about Happy?", asked Peter.

“I think we can manage perfectly on our own. Besides, what makes you think he’s more responsible than me?”.

“He’s an adult”.

“He’s seventeen in human years, and fucked a horse”.

“Wow, someone has been stalking my mythology”.

“If you two quarrel too much, Peter will tell me and I’ll be back with Clint Barton in charge of you three. So you better behave. Alright, I’m leaving”.

“Wait! What are the rules?”, asked Peter. You grabbed your face and Loki muttered what a damn nerd.

“Eh, don’t burn down the compound, I don’t know, kid”, said Tony getting inside his bright red suit.

“The bar is on the floor. Let’s play macarena”, you whispered.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#10: Felix, Part Two: The Episode Itself

Here’s Part 1

So, uh... here's the thing. I was going to divide this post into three parts, but I had to cancel the third part where I analyze the stuff involving Astruc defending the episode on Twitter, specifically a certain scene that really showed off some serious double standards in regards to the way Adrien is being written, because Astruc deleted most of his tweets regarding the episode. I wonder why he did that? I thought he wanted to expose himself publicly and interact in a peaceful way.

So yeah, instead of a big three-parter, this is going to be a two-parter, and I apologize for that. I might be able to do a third part if anyone has any screenshots of some of the tweets Astruc made after “Felix” aired. If you did, I would really appreciate it, but if not, it's fine.

Either way, let's just get this over with, because I have SO MUCH to talk about. My friend, can your heart stand the shocking facts about Season 3, Episode 23 of Miraculous Ladybug, “Felix”?

So we start off with what Gabriel does for half of his scenes when he isn't Hawkmoth, monologuing to his (possibly) dead wife, Emilie about how Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous will soon be his and all that crap. Sure, he's sent God knows how many Akumas after Ladybug and Cat Noir, and they've all failed miserably, but I'm positive he's getting close to his goal.

After he finishes cleaning his and Emilie's silver wedding rings that sadly don't allow them to transform into Ultraman Ace, Gabriel goes to check on Adrien, singing to a statue of Emilie (glad to see the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree), intending to tell him that he is Hawkmoth.

Gabriel: There is something important I have to talk to you about. I think about telling you every day, but I don't know how to find the right words.

Adrien: I think I already know, father.

Gabriel: But, how?

Adrien: I've noticed how close you and Nathalie have become. If she can make you happy again, then... as far as I'm concerned, she's already part of our family.

Yeah, apparently it's obvious that Gabriel and Nathalie are close or something, with how casually Adrien assumes they're planning on starting a relationship. I mean, it's not like Nathalie is close to Gabriel because she's his secretary or something like that.

Gabriel's response isn't any better, as he immediately jumps down Adrien's throat for daring to assume he might try to move on from his wife.

Gabriel: How could you possibly think such a thing?! Nobody could ever replace your mother! As long as she is still in our hearts, she lives on!

Even Adrien's face shows he's a little taken back by his father's brief outburst.

Part of me likes to assume that Plagg is trying to not break out into laughter at how crazy Gabriel sounds, while Nooroo is mentally questioning the sanity of his master.

Plagg: Wow! Your father's like a piece of tomme cheese, where the rind's so thick it's almost impossible to get inside the center.

Adrien: Don't be so hard on him, Plagg. It's been a year today since Mom... went away forever.

Oh my God, just say she DIED already! Why are so many kids' shows afraid to say the D-word? How can I cite an episode of Caillou of all shows as something that that actually talked about death to it's audience in a nuanced way?

It turns out that Adrien's aunt is visiting for the day, as it's the one-year anniversary of Emilie's “going away forever”. We also learn that the gene pool in Adrien's family is so shallow, a toddler could swim in it, because Emilie's sister looks exactly like her.

Even better, her name is Amelie. I bet the parents thought naming their kids Emilie and Amelie was hilarious for like three minutes.

And of course, she also brought her son, the asshole of the hour.

Someone cue the Imperial March.

So Felix is finally here, and of course, he looks just like Adrien. It's almost like the animators didn't want to create any new character models for this episode, so they thought nobody would notice if they just reused a few. Seriously, towards the end of the episode, we see Felix wearing the Cat Miraculous on his hand, and none of the animators noticed it.

So while Adrien is happy to see his cousin, Felix isn't. I'll talk more about it in a minute.

Amelie mentions that the wedding rings are actually heirlooms in her side of the family, so she naturally wants them back. Of course, Gabriel, being Gabriel, responds accordingly.

Gabriel: These rings are obviously very special to me.

Amelie: And they're very dear to me too, Gabriel. Those jewels have always been in the Graham de Vanily family, not the Agreste's.

Gabriel: We'll discuss it later.

“Yeah, yeah, these rings are priceless family heirlooms or whatever, but why can't you think about how important they are to me?”

Meanwhile, Marinette and her friends are planning on recording some messages for Adrien to cheer him up on this day, but Marinette isn't sure what to say before she decides to confess her love to him. I'm sure Adrien will get the message and return Marinette's feelings this episode... and Cliff Hanger will finally escape that cliff he's been hanging from for years.

Speaking of, Adrien and Felix are hanging out in the former's room where we learn that Felix's father passed away recently. We don't know how long, but with the way they talk about, it's clear the funeral wasn't too long ago. Keep this in mind.

So while Adrien leaves the room to get a chess board for the two to play a game of, Felix, for no reason, decides to search through Adrien's things and crush a piece of cheese that Plagg had been aging for two weeks. And here is the interaction that helps this episode go from mediocre to aggravating, just because of what they imply here.

Adrien: Listen, Plagg. Felix lost his dad not so long ago, he's probably not himself.

Plagg: I'm sorry, but there's just no excuse! You never touch my cheese, and yet, you just lost your mother not so long ago, right?

Yes. The show is actually implying that Adrien is better than Felix because Adrien isn't acting out because his mom “went away forever”. Keep in mind, we know that Felix just lost his father, while Adrien has had a year to cope. I'm not saying he can't be sad anymore, as everyone processes grief differently, but you can't set up Felix as a foil to Adrien just because they both lost a parent, as their situations are entirely different.

Oh, and when Plagg's statement upsets Adrien, it isn't because he's angry at Plagg for making the comparison, it's because he mentions Emilie. And this argument is never brought up again.

I still can't believe this episode is basically saying that even if you lose a loved one, that's no excuse to get emotional. This isn't just a horrible lesson to teach children, but it pisses me off on a more personal level. Why?

My grandfather died last year after a long battle with lung cancer.

He had been in and out of the hospital for a few years at this point, and part of me was relieved that he was finally free of the pain. I tried not to let it bother me, as I had already mentally prepared myself for the day he would die whenever he was readmitted to the hospital. But it was still painful to go through because he was so important to me. Instead of simply telling someone how I was feeling, I threw myself into my schoolwork in an effort to distract myself from actually confronting my emotions. After seeing A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, a movie where the main character made peace with his father on his deathbed with some encouragement from Mr. Rogers, it made me think about how unhealthy it was to bottle up my emotions, so I started to open up more about how I was feeling. When I told my mom (who was his daughter) about why I was so conflicted regarding his death, she said it was completely understandable, as she had been an emotional wreck as well. I also talked with my therapist about how this was affecting me mentally.

What does this have to do with the episode? I don't think Felix had access to this kind of emotional support when his dad died, or that he tried coping the same way I did initially.

And the worst part is that this could have been used to teach people a lesson on how to cope with losing a loved one. Maybe Adrien could have helped Felix find a healthier coping mechanism, or simply help him open up emotionally, teaching him that it's okay to be upset when someone close to you dies, but that you just need to be honest about your feelings.

But no, rather than portray Felix's actions as a troubled youth lashing out because he's angry at the cards the world dealt him, Felix does several awful things this episode for no other reason than because he's evil, even though he has a good reason to hate Adrien and Gabriel.

So the very next scene, we see Felix has stolen Adrien's phone and is going through the messages that Adrien's friends sent him, but not before insulting his crush on Ladybug. I'm not sure if that's supposed to reflect the fandom's criticism of Adrien's crush on Ladybug, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was.

Nino's Message: Hey, my dude! I'm not quite sure what to tell you, except that, you're my man, dude! And bros are always there for their guys!

Felix: (Mockingly) “Bros are always there--” blah, blah, blah! Moron.

Rose's Message: Unicorns have a saying: even when there's nothing but gray skies and rain, all it takes is one little sunbeam for a rainbow to appear!

Felix: Loser.

Max's Message: It's one hundred percent proven, you should feel fifty-two percent happier with a healthy dose of laughter. So Markov has uploaded a few jokes for you! Starting with--

Felix: Freak.

Chloe's Message: When my mother left for New York, I felt so sad. It felt like she was... (sighs) She came back, and I know how lucky I am. So, you can count on me, my Adrikins.

Felix: Chloe. Just as annoying as usual.

And that line right there is the only time Astruc actually liked writing Felix, as it gave him the chance to satisfy his need to insult Chloe.

And then when he sees Marinette's message, he deletes it because... hell if I know

Again, this scene could have worked if it was interpreted as Felix saying stuff that he wasn't dependent on others for support and that he could easily power through life on his own, but nope! Instead, he hates Adrien's friends and only deletes Marinette's message instead of all of them simply because he's evil, heart blacker than Don Cheadle.

Felix continues to show how awful he is by dressing up in Adrien's clothes and—Oh, son of a bitch, SERIOUSLY? This is the SEVENTH evil doppelganger plotline we've had in THREE SEASONS! You're telling me this isn't doing the same thing over and over again, Astruc?

Yeah, so Felix records some messages to send to his friends that, once again, could have worked if this episode was actually teaching a lesson about dealing with grief.

“Adrien's” Message:  First of all, thanks so much for all your messages, guys, really. Sending me messages on today of all days... (angrily) to remind me how sad I'm supposed to be feeling? Why, that's great! Really, Thanks a lot!

But because nobody ever considers how Felix is feeling, it's never acknowledged, because that would actually involve writing him with complexity.

Gabriel gets a message from Lila, who recently became one of his confidants to spy on Adrien, tells him about the fake message, and decides to use the negative emotions felt as an excuse to get rid of his in-laws. No, seriously.

Gabriel: All this disappointment might just help us get rid of our unwanted guests.

To be fair, I'd probably do the same thing just so I wouldn't have to talk to some of the people I hate at my job.

And so, Hawkmoth akumatizes Alya, Juleka, and Rose into the Punisher's Trio, who are basically just their previously akumatized forms Lady Wifi, Reflekta, and Princess Fragrance. Because why would you expect anyone to use an original character model for this episode?

All joking aside, this development raises several questions. First, why wasn't Nino one of the Punisher's akumatized? He's Adrien's best friend, so shouldn't be just as upset as everyone else? Hell, the whole reason he was akumatized into the Bubbler in Season 1 was just so he could throw Adrien a birthday party after Gabriel said no. Then there's the fact that Chloe could have also been akumatized because she's just as close as Adrien, which is another wasted opportunity here.

Second, why bring back Reflekta and Princess Fragrance of all villains? It doesn't even make sense when you consider their motifs are based off of the circumstances that led to them getting akumatized in their respective episodes. Juleka became Reflekta because of her anxiety over easily blending in, so she got the power to turn everyone into an exact copy of herself so they could understand the feeling. Rose became Princess Fragrance when Chloe destroyed her letter and perfume bottle dedicated to the prince of a foreign nation, so the perfume bottle was the basis of her powers. At least Lady Wifi makes sense as the akumatized object this episode is a tablet used to record the messages to Adrien, but Reflekta and Princess Fragrance have nothing to do with the plot of this episode, and just feel tacked on. If it was just Lady Wifi or the Bubbler, I'd get it, but this just doesn't work.

Third, what exactly is this show's obsession with Reflekta? We saw in Reflekta's first episode that her powers had a huge drawback as if either of the heroes is zapped by her, she can't get their Miraculous, like what we saw happened to Cat Noir. Yet, this is the second time this season that Hawkmoth had the bright idea to bring back Reflekta (even giving her a giant robot to amplify her powers). At least Lady Wifi and Princess Fragrance's powers worked together well (Lady Wifi could freeze someone in place, while Princess Fragrance can brainwash them with her perfume), but Reflekta just feels like the odd one out here.

Fourth, and most importantly, why did we only get to hear the line “At your service, Princess Fragrance!” A single time this episode?

So the Punishers head to Adrien's house to take their revenge, but see Felix, still dressed in Adrien's clothes, and are naturally confused. Adrien pretends to be Felix by running away while laughing evilly (so not too far off from how Astruc sees Felix), while the real Felix and Nathalie put up a good fight against the Punishers.

And then... here is the moment that shows just how skewed Astruc's view of Adrien really is.

Felix pretends to confess his love to Ladybug as Adrien, trying to force a kiss on him, making Ladybug punch him in the face by claiming that the real Adrien “would never be so pushy”.

BULL. SHIT.

Yes, Ladybug doesn't know that Adrien is actually Cat Noir, but it's clear that this scene is meant to solidify just how Felix is far worse than Adrien because according to Astruc, he would never do that.

But maybe I'm being too hard on him.

It's not like Adrien has ever forced himself onto Ladybug, right?

I mean, imagine if the show just ignored something like that.

All while trying to teach kids the importance of saying no when someone harasses them.

Can you imagine if someone was that oblivious to their own hypocrisy?

I'm not saying that the lesson is a bad one, but you can't call someone out for doing something bad, and then ignore one of your main characters doing the exact same thing!

Even in the context of the episode, the comparison doesn't work. We know that Felix is only doing this to make Adrien look bad, and has no romantic feelings towards Ladybug like Adrien does. Felix knows what he is doing is wrong, while Adrien doesn't. Whenever Cat Noir tries to kiss Ladybug, he is never aware that what he is doing is wrong, and while he is almost always stopped from kissing Ladybug for one reason or another.

Like when the episode tried to compare two different characters reacting to losing loved ones when there are different circumstances regarding them, the comparison DOESN'T WORK.

And to add insult to injury, Cat Noir shows up just to insult Felix by implying he doesn't have a lot of friends because of the way he acts, because why would he? After all, he's a complete loser that nobody would want to be friends with, and if you like him, you're an idiot for thinking so! At least, that's probably what Astruc was going for.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, leading to a brief Mexican standoff, until Felix steals the tablet containing the Akuma, making a deal with Hawkmoth that he'll help out the Punishers as long as he gets the wedding rings. Do you hate Felix yet? Come on, do you hate him? WHY WON'T YOU HATE HIM, GODDAMN IT!?

This whole bit is completely pointless as Ladybug immediately finds a way to stop all four of them and de-evilize the Akuma.

And when it looks like Felix is actually apologizing for his actions this episode, it's naturally a ruse he put on to steal one of the wedding rings from Gabriel to give to his mom. Because why would Astruc even think of portraying him sympathetically, or at least have him learn a lesson?

So Felix stares out the window with an evil look in his eye (possibly foreshadowing another appearance), as Gabriel takes Emilie's wedding ring to wear for himself, and the episode mercifully ends.

It also means that I never have to watch this episode ever again.

Do you understand why it took so long for me to fully analyze this episode? Hell, it would have taken longer if Astruc didn't delete his tweets defending the kiss scene and how Cat Noir is totally a gentlemen unlike Satan, I mean Felix.

What else do I have to say about this episode that hasn’t already been said? Well, I do have one thing.

I’m not that big a fan of Felix.

I think he’s an okay character in fanfics, but I’m more indifferent to him and fanfics that ship him and Marinette together. I don’t know, maybe that’s because there are so many Felinette fanfics that are heavily seasoned with salt, or it could just be because I’m complete Love Square and Lukanette trash.

But just think about the fact that the scathing criticism of this episode was delivered by someone who isn’t that into Felix. That is how bad this episode is.

In addition to being an obvious mouthpiece for Astruc to yell at fans why they’re idiots for actually liking Felix, it does so by touching on delicate subject and trying to act like it’s easy to tell how Felix is worse than Adrien when the circumstances are nothing alike.

But the fact that Astruc takes a popular character just to portray him as a complete menace just to antagonize his fans is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Fall dates with Ateez

Ateez Masterlist                                   Group Masterlist

Not requested but I do reall enjoy writing seasonal things and the Ateez mood is on so yes. Also I’m soft almost 80% of the time lately so I apologize for the lack of smut content. 

Hongjoong: 

He tended to lock himself up completely when he got very busy, so you knew he hadn’t really had the chance to experience to experience the nice fall weather. So when he had a day off, you knew exactly what you were going to do: play tourist in your own city. 

“It’s so nice out.” Hongjoong commented, squeezing your hand while he held it in your jacket pockets. “It’s a different view from your laptop screen.” You joked and he laughed, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I work too much.” He mumbled, leaning over as he walked to kiss your cheek. You smiled at his actions, squeezing his hand in return. 

“Is that a new bakery?” Hongjoong asked, perking up at the sight and the smell of fresh bread. You laughed and tugged him towards it. “Yeah it is, they have this really nice pumpkin bread.” You explained and he perked up. “Let’s go get some then... maybe then we can go walk through the park? I haven’t been there since they finished putting it together.” You smiled at his words, waiting in line at the bakery. It was nice to see him getting more into your little date and letting go of work. “Of course we can.” You leaned over, kissing his lips quickly. 

Seonghwa: 

(this one is inspired by something I used to do with my dad in my hometown , we use to go to these huge antique stores filled with all these random things)

When Seonghwa told the boys what your date was going to be, the boys joked that you two were turning into an elderly couple. But it was something you truly enjoyed doing together and he was always intrigued to go do it. 

You both never bought anything while antiquing, but it was just so fun to see what the stores had. There was history to each object and it was absolutely fascinating. “We should get this.” Seonghwa said, holding up an antique porcelain monkey. “Should we now... and where would we put him? Or would we have shared custody, he spends a week at the dorms and then a week and my place?” You joked and he shook his head, putting the monkey back down. 

You moved to a case of antique jewellery, scanning it over as Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his hands in your hoodie pocket. “Those earrings are incredibly ugly.” You whispered to Seonghwa behind you, not wanting to offend the seller. “Yeah, they’re the worst. But that’s what they wore back then.” He agreed and placed his head on your shoulder. “But that necklace is pretty neat.” He mumbled, moving to look at the price and quickly moving on to the next item. 

“And really freaking expensive.” 

Yunho: 

Whenever you told him you wanted to go apple picking, Yunho’s heart absolutely melted. It was the perfect little date and he couldn’t have chosen anything better himself. What made it even better was seeing you in a cute sweater and a scarf all ready to go pick apples. 

“So what are we going to do once we pick all these apples?” Yunho asked, wrapping an around your waist to pull you into his chest. No one else was really around in the orchard and he saw an opportunity. “I was thinking, we could go back to my place and maybe make an apple pie... and you can take the left over apples to the dorm.” You smiled wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Hmm apple pie. Apple pie sounds good.” He said softly, reaching behind you to pluck an apple out of your reach. “Doesn’t it, especially nice and warm.” You smiled, pecking his lips quickly and taking the apple from him and putting it in your basket. “Now I’m just hungry.” He pouted, taking the basket from you to hold instead. 

Yeosang: 

It was almost impressive how quickly you two lost eachother while in the corn maze. You were almost sure it was record time, Yeosang turned one corner and you turned the other and you were out of eachother’s sight. 

“Yeosang!!!” You called, other maze wanderers looking at you. It wasn’t your fault you had lost eachother. “Yeosang!!!!” You laughed, because this was sad and funny. “Y/N?!” You could hear him through the corn. “Yeosang! You stay there, I’m coming to you.” You breathed in relief and you could hear is faint “okay”. 

You could see him physically sigh in relief as you finally found him. You laughed, hugging him tightly and sneaking your hands under his jacket. “Who’s idea was this?” He asked with a laugh and you shook your head, burrying it in his chest. “No clue.” You smiled, moving to grab his hand. “Now let’s get out of here and don’t you dare let go of my hand.” You added on and he nodded his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiled, now casually wandering the maze with a lot less panic. 

San: 

The fall fair was so incredibly fun. Old school carnival games scattered around a big field, food trucks, etc and it was absolutely amazing. Good old wholesome fun and you were absolutely excited to see it all. 

However, San was completely obsessed with winning you a giant teddy bear. He was absolutely determined, which lead you to standing by the ‘Knock over the milk bottle’ stand for 20 minutes. “One more time.” San said, missing the bottles again. 

You crossed your arms and laughed. “Whatever you say baby.” You told him and he pouted at you. “Don’t do that, you know I hate losing.” He said, holding the ball in his hand. “I know.” You laughed, leaning over and kissing him quickly. “See that’s what I needed, I’m gonna make it now.” You laughed at his words, but quickly shut up as the ball knocked over the milk bottles. “Told you.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you before grabbing the teddy bear from the vendor. 

Mingi:

This was definitely going to be your new wallpaper, that you knew for sure. Mingi with a wagon filled with pumpkins, walking through a pumpkin patch. You were going to bring the pumpkins back to carve with the boys and Mingi wanted to make a date out of it. Picking out pumpkins for each of the members, that suited them. 

“Did you just take a picture of me?” He asked, looking at you holding your phone. “Maybe.” You teased, putting your phone back in your jacket pocket. “You just looked cute. I couldn’t help myself.” You added on, grabbing his jacket and pulling him towards you. 

“I need to pick out one more pumpkin.” He said leaning forward slowly. You glanced at the wagon, counting the pumpkins and finding 8. “Who’s?” You asked and he smiled. “Yours, but I can’t find one that suits you. None of them are perfect.” He said, smiling cheesily and you walked away. “That cheesiness caused you a kiss.” You tutted and walked over to a small pumpkin, picking it up. “Can I make it up to you by carving you a beautiful pumpkin later?” He asked, quickly hugging you from behind. “No you can make it up to me by not going to the emergency room while carving pumpkins later.” You laughed, patting his hands comfortingly. 

Wooyoung: 

On his cooking adventures, he never really tried baking and it was something he wanted to do really bad. Fall was the perfect time for some pumpkin spiced cookies and it was the perfect date. 

“2 cups of sugar? Are you sure?” You asked looking at Wooyoung who was reading the instructions. “Yeah 2 cups.” Wooyoung reassured and you still looked at him in confusion. “You’re sure? That’s an awful lot of sugar.” You said, holding the measured out sugar over the bowl. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked at you with pursed lips. “Do you not trust my cooking skills?” He asked and you started laughing. 

“I trust your cooking skills, your baking skills not so much.” You joked and he gasped. He dipped his finger into the existing batter, which was mainly just pumpkin and smeared it over your cheek. “That’s for doubting me. Now put in the sugar.” He smiled and you just laughed, dumping it in the bowl. “Yeah, I’m totally getting back at you for that later.” You said softly and smiled at him sweetly. “Oh boy, I’m in trouble... let’s finish the cookies before you get back at me.” Wooyoung laughed, panic in his voice as he quickly moved any ingrediants that could possibly be used as a weapon against him. 

Jongho:

(this look, this energy, it’s superior)

You watched Jongho poke at the fire with a stick before dropping it in and sitting next to you again. It was a cute idea to go roasting marshmellows outside and it was the perfect weather. Not too warm, cold enough for a jacket and cuddles, absolutely perfect. 

“Is that enough wood?” Jongho asked, about to get up to add more again. You grabbed his jacket and pulled him back down to sit. “Yes, it is. Here.” You said and popped a marshmellow into his mouth. He accepted it, laughing a little before wrapping an arm around you. You stuck a marshmellow onto a stick and hung it over the fire, roasting two so that Jongho didn’t have to stop cuddling you. 

“I’ve never done this before.” Jongho said as he gently bit into the warm marshmellow. “Really? It’s so fun and good.” You said, smiling at him. Jongho couldn’t help melt a little as he saw your expression. “It really is. We should do this with the members sometime too.” You nodded in agreement and then stopped. “I don’t know if I trust all of them around an open flame” You both laughed and he shook his head. “That’s a valid point.” 

A/N: Please comment and leave some feedback ♥

[cityofimagines]

My Angel – JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: your relationship with JJ is still relatively new, but that doesn’t stop you from showing just how much your care about him after his has an episode with his dad.

A/N: this popped into my brain randomly because im in love with fluffy jj, and jj in general. i literally just wanna give him the biggest hug in the world 🥺 this is also my first real obx imagine so lmk what you guys think!! 

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1841

It was currently a perfect day in the Outer Banks. 86 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, on your way to meet your friends on the dock. You finally found a time when everyone was off work simultaneously for the first time this week. John B’s boat was practically rotting from not being used in five days.

You fast walked down the hill to get to the meeting spot. As you got closer, you noticed most of the pogues plus Sarah Cameron, the newest addition to the group thanks to John B, all chatting.

“Hey guys!” You exclaimed as you neared them at the end of the dock.

“Hey (y/n)!” Kie smiled and ran up to give you a short hug.

“What’s up (y/n)?” John B asked, giving you a nod.

You shook your head. “Not much. Just excited to finally see you guys!” Which earned smiles from the rest of the group. Everyone was clad in swimsuits, t shirts, and flip flops, signaling that they were more than ready to get this day going. But before you could, you noticed something major was off. “Where’s JJ?” You asked looking around for your boyfriend.

“We were gonna ask you the same question.” Pope said.

“That’s so weird. We texted earlier and he was obviously down to come...I assumed he’d be the first one here.” You continued.

“Who knows maybe he’s just running a little late. It wouldn’t be the first time anyway.” Kie smiled and put a hand to your arm. “We can wait a few more minutes.”

You had been friends with all of the pogues for about two years now, pretty much since the week you moved here. However, you and JJ had only been dating for less than a month, so this relationship was still fairly new. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was having doubts about you or your relationship. After that thought passed you wondered if something bad happened to him. JJ is known for having not the cleanest record, much to your dismay, so you couldn’t help but think he was in trouble. As more time passed, the more negative overthinking you did.

You checked your phone for any sign of him, but the only notifications present were from Apple telling you to update your software for the millionth time. The rest of the group had descended into a random conversation, but finally after 10 minutes of waiting for him you decided to speak up.

“Hey guys? I think I might go look for him…” You trailed off, looking in the other direction towards the rest of the island.

“It is pretty weird...JJ isn’t one to miss out on days like these.” John B added. “You want us to come with you?”

You smiled at his offer, but declined. “No it’s fine honestly. You guys go have fun. Don’t let me ruin your day.”

“You could never.” Kie said. “You’re sure?”

You nodded. “I promise it’s okay. I’m just scared something happened. I’m gonna go look for him and maybe we’ll meet up with you guys later if we can.”

Since your relationship with JJ was still so new, you were still learning how to manage spending time with him alone and spending time with the rest of your friends. You felt bad for leaving them because you hadn’t hung out all week, but something was pulling you towards JJ in that moment.

“Sounds good.” Kie finished. “Good luck and hopefully we’ll see you later!”

“Thanks guys.” You smiled one last time before turning to walk back towards where you came from. Your car was parked in a lot close by, so it didn’t take long for you to get in there and gather your thoughts. Where could JJ be? He couldn’t be at work, because he’s been working with Pope and his dad lately, so obviously if Pope was at the dock JJ would be too. The only other place he could be would be...his house?

The second that thought dawned on you, your face sank. His house.

JJ opened up about his home life to you pretty quickly into your relationship. You had known each other for so long before that he felt like he could trust you explicitly. He told you all about how his mom left when he was young, and how his dad is a disgusting physically and emotionally abusive alcoholic. This revelation led to a few tears and more than a few sleepovers at your house.

You backed out of the lot and sped down the streets as fast as you possibly could without it being able to technically count as speeding. Your heart was now pounding at the thought that something bad must have happened today involving his dad.

After a too fast car ride you came up on his street. You parked across the street in front of his house, not even daring to go near the driveway because who knows what his dad would do. You weren’t even completely sure his dad knew you existed.

You felt crazy walking around to the back door dressed in a bikini with nothing but an oversized t-shirt covering you, a messy bun sitting on top of your head, sunglasses behind your ears, and cheap flip flops.

Once you got up to the door, your hand hovered in front of it in a knocking position. Suddenly you were terrified. What if JJ wasn’t even here? What if you were just being a stupid worried clingy girlfriend? What if his dad answered? What would you even do in that situation?

A crazy thought came over you and you decided to forego knocking and reach out for the doorknob instead. You turned it quietly and the door clicked open. You closed it behind you and took a look inside at the house you had only seen a couple times before. Beer bottles lined every open surface. Clothes and dishes were strewn everywhere, medicine bottles sat on the kitchen counters. You bit your lip to keep from tearing up at the sight. The fact that this was the only place the boy who had your heart had to call home broke you.

You walked into the living room and jumped a mile when you saw an adult figure on the couch. Luke Maybank, luckily asleep. Still no sign of JJ.

You walked deeper in the house, down the hall to where you knew JJ’s room was. The door was cracked slightly, and you held your ear up to it. Your heart broke even more when the sound of crying filled your ears. You opened the door and it creaked, causing your boyfriend’s head to snap up in your direction.

“JJ…” You began.

“(Y/N)? What the hell are you doing here-” He said, cutting you off.

No words came out of your mouth for a minute as you took in the sight. He was hunched over sitting on his bed, clutching his side. His shaggy blonde hair looked more oily than normal most likely due to his hands running through it excessively. He had a black eye and a split lip, with random patches of dried blood around his mouth. You had heard about his dad’s horrible parenting, but nothing could have prepared you from seeing its effects in real life for the first time.

Finally you came to your senses. “I was looking for you.” You started. “We were all waiting for you on the dock and when you didn’t show up I just had a feeling something was wrong…God JJ why the fuck didn’t you call me? I would’ve come as soon as I cou-”

“Shh baby. It’s okay. I’m okay.” He said. “C’mere.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you took all of three steps towards him. He wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you in. Your head rested on his.

“It’s not okay!” You cried out, his hair muffling your voice. He shushed you and started rubbing your back.

“I’m fine sweetheart. You shouldn’t even be here anyways-”

“Will you shut up?” You said, the question coming out harsher than you meant. You quickly pulled away and looked down at him. “Shit- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I’m just fucking frustrated that you have to go through this. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

JJ reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen onto your cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I promise I’m fine. Go back out with everyone. I’ll catch up later.” He said.

“No.” You shook your head. “We’re going to my house. I’m fixing you up.”

“(y/n)...”

“Either you come with me or I’ll help you here.” You gave him an ultimatum.

He sighed and his head fell forwards on your stomach. He was still sitting on his bed and you stood in between his legs. You grabbed his hand in yours. “Please baby. Let me take care of you.”

“Okay. Your house it is.” You helped him up and walked him out to your car. You even helped him into the passenger seat, much to his dismay. Seeing him like this had you seething inside, you couldn’t help but want to love on him with everything you had.

A short drive to your house later, you walked inside and told him to sit down on the couch. Your parents were both at work and you assumed your older sister was with her own friends. You ran to the bathroom to get bandaids, rubbing alcohol, and an ice pack for his eye.

You sat down with everything and began tending to his cuts. You felt like crying again, but reminded yourself to be strong for him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked after a few moments of silence.

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. He’s just an asshole.”

“I wish I could do something more to stop it.”

“You do enough. I don’t deserve you.” He said quietly.

“Stop it. If anything I don’t deserve you.” You replied. You took the ice pack off his face for a minute to look into his eyes fully. “You’re the best part of my life JJ Maybank. When you’re hurting so am I.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “My angel.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso delicately so as to not hurt him. You weren’t sure if words could adequately describe what you were feeling regarding JJ, so you just sat in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you after a few moments. 

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with all of this. I hate making you upset.”

“Not your fault.” You whispered into his shirt. “I would do anything for you. You know that.” 

He pushed your head up to his and planted a passionate kiss to your lips. He pulled away and rested his forehead to yours. You ran a gentle hand up and down his side, feeling him get chills as you traced the muscles that hid underneath his soft skin.

“You wanna sleep?” You asked.

“Honestly...yeah.” He said quietly.

You patted his legs twice signaling for him to stand up. You switched positions so you were sitting behind him.

Once he got comfortable in your lap, you started running your hands through his hair and on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed.

“I got you sunshine. You’re safe with me.”

[luviedovey]

the you i fell in love with

connor murphy x female!reader

a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc 

summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.

set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.

second person pov

warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick

word count: 5,573

______

“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.

“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”

Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt?  We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.

Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”

It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”

The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”

He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.

“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.

“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.

“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.

It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”

“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”

“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”

You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”

“Thank you, Evan.”

___

During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.

The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.

The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.

___

“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”

“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.

“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.

___

The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.

You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.

___

“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.

Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,

“Dear Y/N

Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.

Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.

It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.

Thank you. I love you.

Sincerely, Con”

“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,

“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”

“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”

“Dear Con,

Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.

It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.

To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.

I love you.

Sincerely, Y/N/N”

Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”

“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”

The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.

Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”

___

The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.

Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”

You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”

You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.

“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”

Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”

Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”

___

The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.

A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.

The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”

Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”

Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”

The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.

It was quiet for a long amount of time.

“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.

You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.

There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.

“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”

With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.

“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”

“Thank you, Heidi.”

___

“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.

“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.

“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.

Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”

It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.

“She’s right.”

Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”

Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”

Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”

___

The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.

With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day. 

You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #424

“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”

What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.

[oh-obrien]

Take Me Out

Relationships: Dylan O'Brien x OFC

Word Count: 4,496

Author’s note: Sorry I disappeared y’all and sorry this one’s a little short. I had finals and then I found out my grandpa has cancer so we’re a little bit all over the place, but I’m getting back in the grove. Here’s some baseball and jealous Dylan for you all. All my characters are oc’s as I didn’t want to pull any real life players to use. 

“Imagine liking the Mets,” Cameron mumbled around the white hair tie she held between her teeth. She watched through the mirror while Dylan pulled his jersey on, finishing dutch braiding the left side of her hair at the same time. “Orange and Blue just, it doesn’t go together well at all,” she continued while tying her braid off with the hair tie. 

Dylan rolled his eyes and walked back into the bathroom after he pulled Cameron’s jersey out of the closet, holding it up at an arm's length and wrinkling his nose. “Because pinstripes are any better?” He asked while leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, watching his girlfriend continue to braid her hair. “Tabloids later are going to be like, Dylan O'Brien's girlfriend seen wearing a Yankees jersey at the first game of the Subway Series: Is this the beginning of the end?” He couldn’t hold in his laugh at the end.

Cameron also tried to stop herself from laughing while she sectioned off the hair on the right side of her head, not wanting the braid to be uneven. “Oh god,” she mumbled, “I’m going to have to tweet that everyone needs to remember my dad is one of the coaches for the Yankees,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky he let you stay the first time I brought you home and you had a Mets hat on.” Dylan watched her fingers braiding her hair while she spoke. “At least you don’t care about hockey. It would have been bad if you blurted out you were an Islanders fan too.”

“I remember that!” He started laughing lightly again, his shoulders shaking slightly while he did, “he just grilled me after that.” Dylan remembered the first time he met Cameron’s parents, the week of the Subway Series two years earlier. The pair had been together for only a couple months at the time and Cameron had surprised him with tickets for all three games that year, her dad had also offered that the couple could stay at the family’s house in Sagaponack for the time they were visiting. Dylan and Cameron had pulled up in front of Cameron’s childhood home in a car her dad had hired to drive them out to Sagaponack from MacArthur airport, and Cameron swore she saw Dylan’s jaw hit the floor of the car when they pulled through the front gates.

“He had that custom made, I think it’s a bit much,” Cameron referred to the large wooden Yankees logo that had been put on the front door to their home. “And if you get past that and how huge the house is, actually who am I kidding,” she rolled her eyes while they got out of the car. “I cannot stand this house,” they thanked the driver after he got their suitcases out of the back. “And I can't stand that I spent eighteen years of my life here.”

Dylan snorted at the memory and Cameron cocked her head to the side at his outburst. “You say how much you hated living here when you were younger every time we come out to visit, and I’m just stringing it all together,” he shrugged.

“I also hated going to private school, but clearly something paid off somewhere,” Cameron tied off her second braid, the two falling even in front of her chest. “Because I got into my dream college and then I was somehow lucky enough to bump into you and then got you to sick around long enough to actually tell you my dad coached the Yankees,” she hooked her fingers into the loops of Dylan’s shorts and pulled him closer. 

Dylan pulled his face away from Cameron’s, a tight lipped smirk spreading across his face. “Did it really now?” He asked, watching pout spread across her full lips. “Because if I remember it correctly I actually asked you out that first night,” he brought his hands up to rest on Cameron’s waist, right above the curve of her ass.

“But then for some reason you decided to keep talking to me,” Cameron leaned up slightly to peck Dylan’s lips, “a bunch of sorority girls on a bar crawl after finals and you decided it would be a good idea to talk to me out of that group?” She cocked her head to the side slightly, clearly pressing the issue further in a playful way.

Dylan rolled his eyes and pulled Cameron even closer to him. “Okay so,” he slipped his hands along the line of skin on Cameron’s back that was left uncovered by her white cropped t-shirt, “you were cute, I made a move.” Cameron looked up and gave Dylan a ‘really’ look, knowing a lot of her sorority sisters she had been with were more than cute. “You were cute, and the only one without some basic fruity drink in your hand,” he added the last part.

“Yeah I did look pretty cute that night,” Cameron just shrugged and watched Dylan shake his head at her usual antics. “And then there was you, you looked half dead my dude,” she reminded. Cameron patted Dylan’s chest lightly and pulled away, grabbing her jersey off the counter and pulling it on.

Dylan watched Cameron quickly tie a knot out of the two ends at the front of the jersey instead of buttoning it, letting it hang open most of the way. “I was in the middle of filming an entire movie in sixty days,” he pointed out while Cameron adjusted the knot of the jersey so it would be even with her cropped shirt. “And in my defense I had also filmed twelve hours that day but somehow got convinced to go out!”

Cameron tucked her phone into the pock on her ripped jean shorts, “well I’m glad they convinced you,” she brushed past Dylan and back into her childhood bedroom. She sat down on her bed and pulled her navy converse off the floor, slipping them on before tying them tightly. “You have everything you need?” Cameron turned to face Dylan after she grabbed her RayBans case off her dresser. 

Dylan patted around at his pockets, making sure he had his wallet and phone. “I think I have everything,” he shrugged, “if not it’s not that important.”

“You are so go with the flow it hurts sometimes,” Cameron shook her head and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “C’mon, the car is waiting downstairs and I don’t want to be stuck in rush hour traffic, nothing is worse than the LIE during rush hour!”

“How about the George Washington during rush hour?” Dylan smirked while he spoke, knowing he would get a reaction out of Cameron. She had mentioned numerous times throughout the visits they took to New York how much she hated having to take the GW Bridge to leave the state.

Sliding her fingers through Dylan’s cameron just huffed, squeezing his hand a little harder than she normally would. “Never speak of that godforsaken bridge ever again,” she mumbled as the pair started down the staircase. 

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Dylan watched the beaches of where Cameron grew up slowly fade away as the pair got closer and closer to Queens, suburban neighborhoods turning into taller and more condensed buildings. Of course growing up he had lived quite close to the ‘Big Apple’ himself, but he knew he didn’t visit nearly as often as Cameron did. 

“I practically grew up in Yankee Stadium,” Dylan remembered Cameron telling him on their first date. At the time he had thought that must have been one of the coolest childhoods ever, having a parent who coached an MLB team, but he quickly realized it probably wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed. 

Dylan learned that in the winter months Cameron’s dad would travel with the team for their winter training and there would be an extended period of time where Cameron wouldn't get to see him. Dylan also remembered her noting that it taught her what she didn’t want to be as a parent, and that had been something that had scared him, although he didn’t yet express it. He would often travel for filming or press tours and through Cameron, he realized just how much a parent constantly being away could impact a kid. 

However, kids weren’t yet on the couple’s mind. The pair had met in Louisiana while Dylan had been filming the first movie in The Maze Runner series, and Cameron had been in the process of wrapping up her junior year of college at Louisiana State University playing for their softball team. She had also started to cram for her LSAT’s right before they met. In a fast paced two months which consisted of seeing each other when there had been any time in either of their schedules and texting on the days there wasn’t, the couple had quickly started falling for each other. 

Once Dylan had flown back to Los Angeles after The Maze Runner had wrapped, Cameron found herself reconsidering her law school options and studied even harder for her LSAT’s. After receiving a 178 out of 180 on the test, Cameron had applied to as many law schools as she could, but had her eyes on getting into University of California at Berkeley’s School of Law.

Prior to flying out to New York for the year’s Subway Series between three Mets and Yankees, the couple’s two year anniversary had just passed. Dylan’s career had started to take off even more while Cameron found herself attending law school at UC Berkeley. After quite a few long conversations and consulting with friends and family, the pair had recently decided to settle in a spacious home right outside of Los Angeles together. With Cameron in her second year of Law School and already receiving job offers for after graduation and Dylan’s career only growing, they both knew that they wouldn’t be leaving the area for quite awhile. 

“You’re thinking pretty hard over there O’Brien,” Cameron laughed lightly while she drummed her fingers lightly on his thigh. Dylan took a moment to regain his thoughts before he looked out the window, realizing that their car had pulled off on to the exit that would take them to Citi Field. “Pretty sure I saw some steam coming out of your ears,” she pulled his Mets cap off his head and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Dylan leaned into Cameron’s touch but let out a small huff in protest of her previous statement, “believe me,” he closed his eyes, “if anyone is going to be thinking that hard it’s going to be you.” Cameron just smiled and smoothed her boyfriend’s hair down again, settling his hat back on his head while their car pulled around the back of Citi Field. 

Watching as Dylan’s eyes took in the sights around them Cameron just shook her head while the driver pulled up near the coaches and players entrance. Sometimes it amazed her just how starstruck certain things could get her boyfriend and she wasn’t sure if she would ever fully understand it. He had nearly everything he ever wanted in his reach, but coming to Citi Field would always make his face light up like a kid in a candy store. “Let’s go, Superstar,” Cameron pushed open the door to the Suburban and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “It’s just Queens, basically still the Island.”

Threading their fingers together, the couple thanked their driver before approaching the entrance where two security guards stood, chatting with each other while leaning against the wall of the stadium. Cameron reached into one of the back pockets of her shorts with her free hand and pulled out the passes that would give them access to nearly anywhere they wanted inside Citi Field. 

Cameron held the passes up and the security guards waved them past with kind smiles. She scanned hers on the pad next to the door and heard the heavy metal lock click open before she grabbed the handle. “I want to go see my dad and brother before the game,” Cameron looked over to Dylan who let out an over dramatic goran. “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “all the guys know I’m dating a,” she fake gagged, “a Mets fan.” Untangling their hands Dylan reached over to pinch Cmaeron on the ass which made her squeak and quickly take off down the hallway they were in. 

“Oh fuck off!” Dylan laughed making sure he saw what direction Cameron had taken off in, following a safe distance behind. He just shook his head while following the directions that would lead them both to the visitor’s locker room. He also assumed that after years of attending Subway Series games Cameron probably didn’t need the directions around Citi field for herself anymore. 

Cameron found herself jogging through the hallways of Citi Field, leaving enough distance between her and Dylan that he couldn’t catch her easily but could still follow her so he wouldn’t get lost. She looked behind her to make sure she could still see Dylan before she turned the last corner that would lead to the visitor locker room before crashing into a hard body. “Shit!” She felt a pair of hands catch her waist so she didn’t trip.

“Yeah what the fuck, Cam?” Carson, Cameron’s older brother, asked while he steadied his sister on her feet. Carson has his jersey half buttoned and his cap sat backwards on his head, a smile spreading across his face “And where’s Dylan? You can’t let him get lost in here,” Carson let out a long sigh, hoping his sister’s boyfriend didn’t actually get lost in the depth of Citi Field.

Cameron rolled her eyes and turned around to watch Dylan round the corner, shaking his head when he finally caught up to his girlfriend. “What’s up, man?” Dylan and Carson pulled each other into a ‘bro-hug’ before separating.

“Ahh, nothing much!” Carson laughed while he finished buttoning up his jersey, “just got a series game to play nothing too big,” he shrugged. Cameron let out an overly dramatic huff to get both of the boy’s attention back on her. “Dad’s out on the field, most of the guys are too.” Carson pointed towards the staircase that led up into the visitor’s dugout. 

Cameron nodded in thanks before taking Dylan’s hand in hers, opting to pull him towards the field, itching to be outside on the diamond again. “Can you handle being in the Yankees dugout or is your ego too fragile?” She looked over to Dylan while she scanned the door open with the passes her dad had gotten for the couple. 

“Okay, I’m not that bad,” Dylan rolled his eyes while Cameron pushed the metal door open, the humid, hot and heavy summer New York air hitting them in the face when she did. “I’m just dedicated to my team.” Dedicated Dylan was indeed, it would always be a competition between the two when they would watch games back home. Whose team did better that week, whose team had the better stats, whose team had better chances of making it to the World Series. The competition would always be in good fun of course, nothing ever really rode on whose team did better, except bragging rights. 

Cameron leaned over and kissed his cheek, “and I think that’s adorable,” she reminded him. Once the pair stepped out on to the field they noticed most of the players were warming up in some shape or form. The infielders were running drills and those not participating were found in the back of the stadium, sitting on the fence of the bullpen, talking with the relief pitchers who were getting their arms loose before the game. 

“Someone is all grown up,” Cameron heard a familiar voice speak from next to her and turned to see Mark, one of the newer players, walking out of the bullpen. Mark had also gone to college with Cameron, although he had been a year ahead of her, he played on the LSU baseball team and had been a starter his freshman year.

Cameron rolled her eyes and accepted his offer of a hug. “You only graduated a year before me!” She laughed while he lifted her off the ground. She looked behind her once Mark put her down to see Dylan kicking the dirt with his beat up Adidas sneakers, an angry frown evident on his face.

Biting her bottom lip, Cameron walked over to Dylan and grabbed one of his hands that hung at his side and squeezed it, but he didn’t squeeze back like he usually would. Great, now she had to deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day too. “Mark this is Dylan, Dylan this is Mark,” she leaned into Dylan’s side more. “You actually probably saw each other the night me and Dyl met at that bar we went to after finals your senior year.

“Nice to meet you for real man!” Mark laughed while he offered Dylan his hand to shake. “You got a real catch, I asked her out when?” Mark looked over to Cameron for confirmation on the years after he dropped Dylan’s hand.

Fuck, now she would really deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day. “My sophomore year your junior,” she filled in. She knew that Dylan would be even less happy now that Cameron had just been getting all cozy with a guy she had rejected before she had started dating him. 

“Yeah she said no though, said it would be like dating her brother. Which was more of an insult than anything,” he nodded to where Carson was dumping a water bottle over one of the other player’s heads in the outfield while they warmed up, “he is something special.” Mark noticed that Cameron’s dad stood neat home plate, trying to round everyone up for batting practice and Mark offered Cameron a final smile. “Gotta go, see you later?”

Cameron nodded with a small smile, “yeah!” Mark leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before running off, his bat and batting gloves in his hands. Cameron had always thought that Mark would grow up to be incredibly handsome while they were in college together, she had just never been attracted to him.

“He asked you out?” Dylan asked once Mark would definitely be out of earshot of the couple. “And you didn’t tell me?” He sounded more hurt than anything. That would be how most of their arguments, if they could even be called that, went. Someone would feel hurt by something the other did and they’d voice their opinion about it and from there on it would be a downward spiral. It usually resulted in someone sleeping in the guest bedroom for a night and waking up to an elaborate breakfast the next morning.

Cameron ran her hands over her face, not in the mood to argue with Dylan around her dad’s players and staff. “It was sophomore year of college Dylan and I said no!” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t want to get into this here. I’m going to say hi to my dad. If you want to pout over here feel free but I’m looking to enjoy the rest of today.” She spoke calmly before leaning up to peck his lips lightly before walking over to her dad.

“Look who it is!” He paused what he had been saying to his players to pull Cameron into a tight hug. Cameron smiled and squeezed her dad before pulling away, waving to the rest of the plays, most of who she knew. “How was the flight out this morning?” He asked after dismissing the players to get a few extra swings in before the game. “And why’s the boy toy pouting?” He nodded towards Dylan. 

Cameron just shrugged, “LAX is LAX, even if we did leave at three in the morning.” The couple had figured it would be the best time to fly into New York from Los Angeles, catch some sleep on the plane and nap once they got to her parents house. It had become their system when visiting there. “He’s not a fan of Mark, that’s why he looks so upset,” Cameron watched as Carson approached her boyfriend. 

Dylan offered Carson a halfhearted smile and then tucked his phone into his front pocket, crossing his arms over his chest before falling into conversation with the ball player. “Mark’s still trying?” James, Cameron’s dad, asked. “I think it’s pretty clear you and Dylan are in it for the long haul now,” he added.

“He’s not usually the jealous type,” Cameron spoke while she walked into the dugout with her dad. “I just,” she sighed, leaning against the bench. “I think it’s the fact that I’ve known Mark so long that’s getting under his skin, like the fact that me and Mark have more history will suddenly make me dump him for Mark ot something.” Cameron watched her dad hang the line up on the wall of the dugout, Mark not on the starting roster for the day.

James turned back to his daughter, a sympathetic smile on his face, “well if it makes Dylan feel any better, I’ll bench lover boy for the day,” he laughed lightly. “Just don’t tell him that I had already planned to take Mark off the roster for the day, he’s been making a ton of errors lately and we can’t have that right now.” Cameron looked at the lineup to see that her brother had been placed in the clean up position, as per usual. 

“Thanks dad,” Cameron sighed and wrapped her arms around her dad again, pulling him into another tight hug.

James just laughed and pulled away from his daughter, “don’t thank me, now go save Dylan from your brother before he talks his ear off about how we’re going to win today,” he nodded towards the two boys. Cameron just rolled her eyes and started up the stairs that lead out of the dugout. “And Cam,” she turned around again, “you mother and I are staying out here tonight.”

“Dad!” Cameron groaned, her face turning red, before she took the last two stairs, both in the same step to get out of the dugout faster. Walking over towards Carson and Dylan, Cameron knew the pair had seen her, but Dylan didn’t hold his hand out for her to take like he usually would. A pang of heart coursed through her chest, but she knew she had upset Dylan, and she should have realized what her actions would have done sooner.

Settling next to her boyfriend, Cameron saw her brother eye them both suspiciously before he fell back into his conversation with Dylan. Once there was a lull in the conversation and it appeared it would be dying off Cameron reached out and grabbed Dylan’s hand, but it stayed limp in hers. “If you don’t mind,” she butted in, “I’m going to steal him for a few minutes before the game starts because we need to talk about something.”

“There’s nothing to-” Dylan started, but Cameron cut him off with a sharp look that said they weren’t pushing this off until later. Dylan let out a long sigh, ���I’ll catch up with you later dude,” he told Carson. 

Carson looked between his sister and her boyfriend before nodding shallowly, “yeah, catch up later,” he raised an eyebrow at Cameron, asking if she was okay. After she mouth an ‘all good’ back, he jogged towards the dugout and down the concrete stairs, emerging a few seconds later with his glove in hand. 

“Cameron I really don’t-”

“Nope,” Cameron tugged Dylan off a little further to the side of the field, where she knew no one could overheard anything. “If we leave this until later we both know that won’t end well,” she told him leaving absolutely no room to argue. “Now, you want to go first?” she dropped his hand and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Dylan tucked both of his hands into his shorts pockets and shrugged, kicking the dirt under his feet again. “I really don’t have anything to say,” he mumbled, clearly ignoring what Cameron had just said. 

“Well, I’ll tell you that I was never interested in him,” Cameron watched Dylan carefully even if he wouldn’t look up to meet her eyes. “He’s a self centered douche who always bragged about how amazing he was and everything was about him, he wasn’t humble and he never cared about anyone else, he just cared about how he looked to everyone else,” she took in a deep breath and when Didn’t reply she let out a long groan. “He’s not humble and he’s not willing to better himself, he doesn’t care about how anyone else feels and he never will. He’s not funny and his smile and laugh always seems fake and quite frankly my dad took him off the lineup for today because he’s such a self centered dick. And you should have more trust in me, I’m dating you and only you, my eyes are on you only, not anyone else, especially not him!”

Cameron watched Dylan look up to meet her eyes, his slightly shiny, but no longer hurt. He had his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled his hat off to card his fingers through his hair. “Sorry I doubted you, he’s just, everything you grew up with and probably wanted growing up,” Dylan mumbled. “And I just got jealous and afraid you’d leave me for someone like him, like everyone expected you to end up with,” he held his hands out for Cameron to take. 

Letting out a tiny sigh, Cameron threaded their fingers together and pulled Dylan closer to her. “Never doubt yourself, bubs,” Cameron kissed him lightly. “I have eyes for you and only you.”

“Love you,” Dylan kissed her again.

“I love you too, dork,” she smiled and pulled away slightly. “Now let’s go say good luck to my dad and thank you for the seats behind home plate,” she started pulling him towards the direction of the dugout. 

Dylan laughed behind her and rolled his eyes, “like I’d ever tell the Yankees good luck,” he said it just loud enough that Cameron could hear. Pausing in just far enough away from the dugout that they would still be out of earshot, Cameron pulled Dylan closer again.

“Say good luck,” she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “and we have the house to ourselves tonight,” she pulled gently on her earlobe with her teeth to drive her point home. 

Dylan closed his eyes and let out a quiet groan, “I hope they win then!” He pulled her towards the dugout again. “In extra innings though, of course.”

[hattywatch]

K. Hayes -  All My Own in a Big Red Bow

A/N: This is for @hockeyandtaylorswift​, for Christmas. She requested it and I love her and she deserves the world. Also I posted this on my phone so I could get it out asap. Sorry if the formatting suffered.

Prompts:

23. “Chocolate chip is the only cookie that matters.”

24. “Is this the part where we kiss?”

"Kris, are you sure? I don't want to make it awkward. I'll be the only one from your side there." Your sister scoffs into the phone. 

"Babe, it's fine. You know how they Hayeses are. The more the merrier." You do know this. Your sister's in-laws are incredibly warm. They invited you to a pool party this past summer and  text you for your birthday.

You're right. I'm still just a little annoyed that Mom and Dad felt the need to have their midlife-crisis now and jet off to a tropical island for Christmas. They couldn't wait a week?" You hear Kris hum and there's a cry in the background. 

"I'll let you get back to it. Keep my nephew happy. I'll see you tomorrow." Kristen reminds you of the time and tells you to bring pajamas and an overnight bag so you don't have to go home and when you hear the door to the nursery and the baby's cries get louder you assure her that you've got it and hurry her off the phone. 

It could be worse; you'll be with your sister for Christmas at least. You can't really blame your parents. When they made the plans months ago you were still with your ex and planning to travel out of state to see his family, but that was months ago and you'd really rather not be alone on Christmas. The flip side is you'll spend it with your sister's perfect little family, which you're happy about, but obviously a little envious you haven't been able to find your own prince charming yet. They don't make them like Jimmy anymore, obviously. 

_______

When you get to Kris and Jimmy's house the next day you immediately relieve her of the baby, delighted to bounce him around the house on your hip and make silly noises at him. 

Glad you came to see me. I feel really special," Kris yells across the kitchen to you as she mixes up a batch of cookies for later. 

"Don't make me choose, you won't like the outcome. You know where my love lies," you hold your nephew up high over your head and blow a raspberry with your lips, aiming for an engine noise but really just spitting all over yourself. The baby doesn't seem to care much and he giggles and coos before he's plucked from your hands. 

"How's my favorite little man? Huh? You excited for Santa tonight?" Kevin lights up as he talks to his nephew and you're not really sure if you want any kids of your own, but boy does a man who's good with kids punch you right in the ovary. 

"Hey! Give him back, we were playing airplane," you whine at Kevin, all the while smiling at his stupid ugly sweater. He plops a kiss down on the baby's fuzzy head and hands him back over to you. 

"Okay, but I'm next in line. Hand him right to me or I'll never get him. My mom's vicious." Nodding, you wink and promise Kevin exactly that. 

He pats you on your back and bends down to drop a kiss on your cheek, "Sorry, hi. Where's Dennis?" 

"Merry Christmas. I don't know. Hell?" 

Kristen snorts, obviously overhearing you. "Touchy subject, Kev." You roll your eyes. 

"It's not touchy, I'm just being grinchy. We broke up, that's all." Kevin lifts his eyebrows and nods. 

"I'd say sorry to hear it, but Jim said he's a douche." He sits down on the chair across the table from you. 

"Your brother is perceptive and wise beyond his years." Kris drops a bowl of dough on the table in between you and Kevin. 

"If you're in the kitchen, you're helping. Make these into balls and put them on this cookie sheet, please? I want to check on dinner." She walks away with the grace she's always had that you've never been able to emulate, floating on air.

Kevin washes his hands and stands over the table, balling up cookie dough and putting them far too close together on the cookie sheet. When you look over you notice something's missing. 

"Kris? Where are the chocolate chips?"

"They're sugar cookies. I ran out of chips," she calls from where she's bent down checking the roast in the oven. 

"Oh no. I'm running out then. Everyone knows chocolate chip is the only cookie that matters." She nods, placating you like only a big sister can.

"Be my guest. But give me the baby, I want to feed him so he'll take a nap before dinner." She scoops him up and his little face lights up at seeing his mother and your heart breaks with love. 

"Kev, you wanna come?" Glancing at him as you shrug on your coat, he's leaning over the sink washing his hands again, but looks up when you call his name. 

"For sure." He looks at you, brows drawn and mouth in a straight line, serious. "I hate sugar cookies." He gives you a big dopey grin and you are eternally happy your sister married into this family. 

_______

"Not sure how I ended up driving," Kevin backs out of the driveway, turning and looking behind him with his big hand on the back of your headrest. 

Making your eyes big and innocent you smile up at him, "Because you blocked me in and your truck is nicer than my car." You adjust the climate control on your side of the car and he lowers the radio from the buttons on the steering wheel.

"You wanna talk about Dennis?" He glances over at you at a red light and you want to sink into your seat. 

"There's not much to tell. He started seeing someone at work and hit me with it back in September. I just moved out and that was that." It's the truth. It was a pretty clean break, your name wasn't on the lease, you didn't have a pet or child together; it was as easy as packing up your clothes, a lamp and a coffee table and it's like you were never there. 

"You find a new place yet?" You didn't expect Kevin to be so interested in your break-up, but you do get along best with him out of all of your sister's in-laws. You're close in age, goofy, and all too happy to play the part of doting aunt and uncle. 

"Why, you looking for a roommate?" Kevin sighs like you just told a bad dad-joke, but you can see he's sincere so you back off. "Nah, I didn't, though. I'm just back with my parents for now until I can find something. The commute is killing me."

You unbuckle your seatbelt as he pulls into a space at the supermarket, he walks around the car to fall into stride next to you. "I have a place in Boston I never use if you want to use it. Just a one bedroom, but I could give you the key and you can pop in whenever you need it."

That's not what you were expecting, and you're stunned, but you say thank you and promise to let him know if you want to take him up on his offer. You only see Kevin a few times a year, but every time you leave, you wish he lived a little closer because you could see the two of you being good friends. 

He picks up a shopping basket and walks over to the refrigerated section. "You can't get a log of cookie dough, Kevin. That's cheating." 

He throws two in the basket. "I don't know how to make them from scratch. What do I look like, Emril?" You dig your hands into the basket and pull the logs of dough back out to put on the shelf. 

"I'll teach you. They're better from scratch." He concedes and follows you through the store as you call Kris and take inventory on what she has and what you need. Apparently she hasn't been shopping in forever because you need everything except flour.

It feels nice to do such a domestic chore with someone so silly. He tries to sneak sour patch kids into the basket while you're in the aisle looking for chocolate chips. "Are you kidding me?" He looks around like he has no idea who could have put the yellow bag of candy in your basket. 

"You're literally a professional athlete. How can you eat like this."  He cracks open the bag of sour patch kids and pops a cherry one into his mouth. His lips pucker a little at the tart flavor, but it fades quickly and he chews happily.

"Just lucky, I guess. Still have this rockin' bod." He flexes a bicep, but it's useless under his fluffy sweater. 

"You're an idiot," it is hilarious though, so you laugh and steal a sour patch from the open bag. "Let's go checkout, they're going to kick us out since you can't be trusted around a bag of candy."

You use self checkout and Kevin bags. He taps his Apple pay to the terminal before you can even get your credit card out of your wallet. 

"I got it." He shakes his head at you, "You're gunna teach me, so I'll provide the materials," he takes the bag and you walk to the car side by side. 

By the time you get back to your sister's house, you and Kevin are chatting happily about New Year's Eve plans after he mentions he'll be back in Boston for it. Maybe you want to see him again soon, so you don't hesitate to extend an invitation to the house party you're throwing while your parents are still sunning themselves on some exotic island. 

"I mean, it's just a small group of friends. I think Kris and your brother are going to stop by for a little," you think maybe you're not playing this cool enough so you back off a little. "You could bring a plus one, obviously. The more the merrier."

You walk into the house behind Kevin, who is still holding all of the bags, and he is pushed back into you abruptly, pinning you against the front door with his strong frame. 

"Uncle Kevin!" More Hayeses have arrived since you two left, apparently. He shifts the bags to his other hand and steps away from you, lifting up his niece and placing her on his hip."Hey pretty girl," he places a kiss on her fat little cheek and she giggles. 

"Can I ask you a secret?" She says it solemnly and he nods and turns his head so she can whisper into his ear. In true childhood fashion, she cannot whisper for shit. "Is that your girlfriend?" 

You laugh and steal the bags from Kevin's hands and head towards the rest of his family to kiss them hello. Jimmy chooses to answer her first, "That's Aunt Kris' sister." The little girl nods in appreciation at the new information. 

"She's pretty like Aunt Kris. Uncle Kevin, she can be your new girlfriend." He pulls one of her pigtails and lets her down to the floor, "I'll be sure to ask, thanks for the good advice." She seems happy with his response and resumes whatever game she was playing with her grandpa before Kevin interrupted; it looks like guess who. 

"Okay I'm going to make cookies, whoever would like to join is more than welcome." You finally make it to the kitchen and drop the bags on the island. Kevin is behind you a moment later. 

"Sorry, she really liked Brooke. It's kinda hard to explain to a kid," he's mumbling through a totally unnecessary apology so you just cut it short for him. 

"So you're not my new boyfriend? Is that what you're telling me? Because I don't appreciate you doing this on Christmas, Kevin. And in front of your family? Cheap shot." 

Placing your hand on your hip you cock it out and he laughs, "Okay, okay, we can stay together until Valentine's day but then we're through." 

"That's fair," you hold out your hand and shake his, biting back a laugh. 

______

A half hour later finds you and Kevin rolling up your dough into balls and dropping it onto a baking sheet.

"These are way too close together. You know they expand when you bake them, right?" You go back over all the ones he did spreading them out.

"I don't know shit, look at me," looking up you see him holding out his hands gesturing to his sweater, which is covered in flour, white dusted all over navy blue. 

You're staring at him and laughing when he reaches his hands behind his head and pulls the sweater over the back of his head and off and you maybe forget that it's rude to stare. He's wearing an undershirt, stark white against his skin, but it creeps up a bit as he's shucking clothes and you catch a peek of toned abs and have to avert your gaze before you make this sufficiently awkward. 

By the time he's gotten his big, fat head out of his sweater you've gone back to spacing out the dough and doing your best to be cool. Like, you've obviously seen some abs before, they just haven't been attached to someone you actually enjoy and are maybe a little… attracted to?

This is a bad time for this revelation. 

It continues to be a bad time for this revelation when his niece wanders into the room all changed into Christmas PJs. "Uncle Kevin," she tugs on his t-shirt, "I want to make cookies for Santa too." 

He scoops her up and sits her on the counter next to the bowl. "Okay, watch how (Y/n) does it. She's a pro, taught me everything I know." He winks over at you and you grab a fresh baking sheet as he helps her wash her hands over the sink. 

"Okay, first we take a little bit of dough like this," you grab a piece for you and a piece for her, but then Kevin holds out his hand too, so you grab another piece and place it in his outstretched hand. "Then we roll it up like this," you roll the dough in between flat palms and make it into a little ball. 

"Wow," you see her doughy little hands making a wobbly shaped sphere and look at her amazed, "are you sure you haven't done this before? You're a natural!" She grins at you before turning to Kevin, who wears a matching mask of amazement. 

"I never did this before, Uncle Kevin. Look I'm doing good!" He's got so much love in his eyes for his family that you can barely look at the two of them without your eyes watering.

After you pop the tray in the oven you all sit down for dinner, which is just everyone shouting over each other trying to be heard while passing the mashed potatoes around the table. 

Kevin sits next to you on one side and his mom is on your other. She keeps glancing over as you chat with her son and you're feeling as self conscious as ever as she smiles at you when you start helping Kris clear the table for dessert. 

She's whispering conspiratorially to Kevin over your empty chair as you place the mountain of chocolate chip cookies in front of him. He looks miserable. 

Eventually the crowd thins out. Most of Jimmy's family lives close by in the suburbs and they'll be back early tomorrow. Apparently it's just you can Kevin spending the night, since he didn't want to drive back into the city. 

When it's just you, Kris, Jimmy, and Kevin left, the baby long since put the bed, you all leave the dining room in favor of the cushy couches in the living room. You pick up the remote and scroll through the channels before putting on A Charlie Brown Christmas. 

"Classic," Kevin turns his head towards you from where he's reclined on the couch to your right. 

About halfway through, Kris yawns. She exhausted and you understand, but you never could fall asleep on Christmas Eve. "Go to bed, Krissy. We can take care of ourselves. You out-hosted yourself today, you earned it." 

Jimmy stands and pulls her up off of the couch, "Let's go momma Hayes." She complies to him with no hesitation. Before she's halfway out of the room she's turns around and grabs a fleece blanket off of the decorative ladder against the wall and walks back to throw it over you. 

"Kevin called the guest room. You get the couch," she leans down and kisses you on the cheek. "Love you," she hugs you before scampering off to get waiting husband. 

You pause Charlie Brown. "You called the guest room, you absolute child??"

"We can share." He says it low, sleepy and raspy and from the back of his throat. 

Choosing to ignore the warmth it sends through you, you pull the blankets up to your chin, "Bully."

Charlie Brown ends and Kevin pulls the the remote from your hand. "Let's make hot chocolate."

You follow behind him on stocking feet, quiet not to wake the baby or your sister. But then Kevin gets out a pot and pulls cocoa from a pantry and this is no Swiss Miss situation. So, you push yourself up onto the counter next to the stove and watch him move quietly about the kitchen. 

"But you didn't know how to make cookies," you accuse. 

"This is a secret family recipe." He adds all of the ingredients into the pot before opening the cabinet and hiding whatever he reached for in his big hand; he covers your eyes with the other and you can hear something get added to the pot before a cabinet door closes and you see Kevin stirring with a wooden spoon, looking at you. 

"Secret ingredient. You can't know it." You bite the inside of your cheek and push your hair back off of your face. 

"Is it Vanilla extract?" The smug look flattens out in his face and he squints his eyes at you. 

"You're the devil." You laugh, leaning back on the counter before hopping down and over to the fridge. 

"Do you think they have whipped cream" you're hopeful your sister would keep it on hand. 

"Bottom shelf on the door," he's right and you spot it straight away. 

He keeps stirring the cocoa and you pop back onto the counter and uncap the whipped cream before squeezing some out on the back of your hand. You slurp it off and point the can at Kevin when he looks over at you, still licking the back of your hand. 

He tips his head back and opens his mouth, "No, gross you're not putting your mouth all over the nozzle." You slap at his shoulder. 

"I have to stir the cocoa, (y/n)." 

It sounds like a line and you're just about delirious enough to accept it, so you squeeze out a dollop onto the back of your other hand and put it in front of his face. 

He tips his head down and sucks it up, and it's a lot less sexy than you imagined this whole exchange would be, but his eyes do catch yours and they're warm in a way that has nothing to do with the flame on the range. 

The pot on the stove starts to boil and he turns off the heat and starts looking for mugs, while you try to figure out what the fuck you're doing hitting on your sister's brother-in-law. 

He hands you a mug and starts to pour into it when you look up and see his stubble is coated in whipped cream. 

"Uh, Kev," he put the pot gently back on the stove, "you've got a little," you gesture to above your lip, "here." He must be purposely obtuse when he attempts to get it off, missing entirely despite the size of his hand. 

"No, here," you gesture again and this time he tries with his tongue, still missing the sugary cream by a mile. 

"Help a guy out," is what comes out of his mouth. Not one to miss a golden opportunity, you lean over and run your thumb along his upper lip, corralling it. He tips his head up before you can pull your hand away and kisses it softly. 

You tilt your head sideways, trying to figure out your next step, but all you can come up with is to outright ask, “Is this the part where we kiss?"

He nods soberly and steps in-between your knees where you sit on the counter, hot chocolate forgotten on the island behind him, and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips taste like Christmas, sugary sweet and decadent like the cocoa on the stove. You wind your hands up into his hair, thankful that you're propped up on the counter since he's so much taller than you, you're not sure if you'd reach otherwise. 

When his hands slide down from your waist to your hips you bite into his bottom lip and hear two things. 

The first is a little moan, which you're sure came from Kevin, since you could feel it against your own mouth. 

The second sounds distinctly like the clearing of a throat and came from somewhere to the left near the fridge. You gently back away from Kevin, head against the cabinet behind you and spot Jimmy, wide-eyed, but smirking, and holding a water bottle. 

"Just wanted a drink," he holds the bottle up. "You guys can, uh- share the guest room… Just keep it down, it shares a wall with the baby's room." He practically swaggers away and you drop your head to Kevin's chest. 

"Shit." 

The next sound you hear is your sister screeching your name from her bedroom, closely followed by the resulting cry of a woken baby, and lastly Kevin laughing, clear and bubbling up through his chest where you're leaning. 

"Yikes, tomorrow is going to be fun." He kisses the top of your head and helps you down from the counter. Fun indeed. 

[dlwritings]

Got Your Six | Tom Holland | pt 1

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

pairing - mob!Tom x reader word count - 4,257 warnings - language

summary - (Y/N) and her sister, April, think they’re in for a normal day at their family coffee shop, but two, new, intriguing customers come in and change everything.

(next)

“(Y/N), can you make a vanilla latte for Eleanor?”

“I’ve gotta warm up a muffin for Ted.”

“Okay, well, after that?”

“What are you doing?”

“Working register.”

“There’s no one in line, April.”

“But you never know when someone will show up!”

“I hate you.”

My sister, April, stuck her tongue out at me as I rolled my eyes with a smile. The microwave beeped, so I quickly took the chocolate chip muffin out and set it on a plate. I walked it over to one of the tables and gave it to Ted, a 60-or-so-year-old gentleman who was a regular customer at my family’s cafe, Bake and Brew.

Most of our customers were regulars. As one of the only bakeries in the neighborhood that had been running successfully for over twenty years, it made sense that we often knew the people who came in by name.

I worked with my sister, April -younger than me by two years- at the cafe every weekday over the summers from 6:00 in the morning when we opened until noon when our cousins -Robin and Daisy- clocked in. The bakery was a family business. My mom and aunt did more of the booking and keeping things while my dad and uncle did all the baking. We had been running that way since I was 18, so for about four years. It worked well, and my parents were relieved they didn’t need to get down on their hands and knees to convince April and I to keep working, even when we both moved out.

April was pretty much my best friend. It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends in college. It was just that not a lot of them lived in New York like I did. I graduated a month prior, so most of them already moved back to their hometowns. But that was fine by me, because I had April. She had been my right hand (wo)man for my whole life, and when I was with her, I didn’t need anyone else.

Except, as she would so often remind me, a boyfriend. I needed a boyfriend. Or at least she said I needed a boyfriend. I didn’t think I needed anyone. I was quite content being romantically on my own. No one had sparked my interest in that way since high school, and as long as I had my vibrator, I didn’t need a man.

“What about for companionship?” April would always tell me.

“That’s what I have you for,” I would say back.

“Whatever,” she would say with a roll of her eyes. “I’m only gonna break your heart.”

I moved out of my parents house as soon as I turned 18, and April moved in with me two years later. We were a dynamic duo, unstoppable by anyone.

The bell above the cafe door jingled just as I was finishing Eleanor’s latte. I brought it over to her table while April greeted our customers- two boys I didn’t recognize. The first boy was shorter than the second, but not by much. They both had sharp and striking features. The arms of the first boy were more defined than the second, but his eyes weren’t as bright. In fact, his whole vibe was darker. Not the clothes he was wearing, but the impression he was giving off. His jaw was more tense, his eyes darting around more suspiciously. The second boy, however, had his eyes locked on April. And he was smiling. I, like the protective sister I was, went to join her at the counter.

“What can I get started for you boys today?” I asked. April shot me an annoyed look, but I kept my eyes on the boys. Now that I was standing right in front of them with only a counter between us, I could take in more details. The taller boy was wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket, while the shorter was wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black slacks. His eyes were dark brown, but the other’s were bright blue. I decided they weren’t brothers.

“Two black coffees,” the shorter boy said at the same time the other said, “What do you recommend?” with his eyes still on April.

“I always like the Americano,” April said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was a tell tale sign she was attracted to someone. “It’s basically espresso and hot water. It’s like black coffee but better.”

“I’m sold,” the boy said with a smile. “An Americano for me, and a black coffee for my equally bitter friend here.” He tried to clap the other boy on the shoulder, but he nudged him away with a roll of his eyes.

April rang up their orders while I poured the shorter boy some coffee. “I haven’t seen you two here before,” I said, trying to catch his eye as I handed him his drink. I was suspicious. “We usually know everyone who comes in here.” the shorter boy ignored me, but the taller gave me a smile.

“We don’t usually stop by this end of town,” he explained.

“What brings you by?” April asked, handing him the Americano.

“Just had some business to take care of,” he said. He took a sip of his drink, and his smile widened. I wasn’t sure it was possible, but there he did it before my eyes. I understood why April was charmed, but I was too annoyed with the other boy to really focus on anything else. “This is perfect,” he said, raising his cup a bit. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” April said, the apples of her cheeks turning red. She stuck her hand out for the boy to shake. “I’m April.” She nodded her head in my direction. “This ray of sunshine is my sister, (Y/N).” I gave the boy a sarcastic smile, but he seemed unphased.

“I’m Harrison,” he said, shaking April’s hand. “This is Tom.” The boy didn’t look up from his phone as he gave me and April a wave. It made me roll my eyes again. Tom locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket.

“Let’s go, Harrison,” he said. Harrison nodded and gave me and April (mostly April) one last dazzling smile.

“I’ll be sure to stop by again sometime, April,” he said, shooting her a wink. “It was nice to meet you two.” He looked at me, and I just sent him another patronizing smile.

“You too,” April said.

Tom left the cafe, not saying a word to the rest of us, and Harrison sent us one last wave and followed. As soon as they were out of sight, April turned to me with wide eyes. “Oh my god,” she said. “Were they hot or what?”

“Oh come on,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I wouldn’t have even given them a second glance if blue-eyed boy wasn’t gaping at you the whole time.”

“Harrison,” she corrected with a blush. “And you’re just upset that Tom didn’t look at you.”

“I can honestly say I was not upset about that,” I said.

“Mhm,” April hummed. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise, I just rolled my eyes and got back to work.

Of course she was right. Both boys were hot, but I wasn’t interested. Harrison clearly had eyes for April, and Tom seemed like an asshole. Not my type. I hoped I’d never have to see them again.

Unfortunately, Harrison was a charmer.

He and Tom stopped by the cafe the next day as well, this time looking a bit more casual. Well, Harrison did anyway. He had swapped out his white t-shirt and black jacket for a plain red t-shirt, still with his dark jeans. Tom was still wearing black slacks and a button-up shirt, this time black instead of white. The black on black outfit would make me feel some type of way if I didn’t find his personality completely aggravating.

Tom, again, got a black coffee while Harrison opted for another Americano. April chatted with Harrison. He sat at the bar and April stood on the other side, her chin in her hand, completely infatuated with every word leaving his mouth. This left me with Tom. Tom also sat at the bar -a few seats down from Harrison to give him some privacy- but was on his phone, just as he was the day before. I didn’t know if I should strike up a conversation with him or just leave him be. The cafe was oddly empty, so I was bored out of my mind. 

Now that I thought about it, it was kind of weird that it wasn’t busy. Just as the thought entered my mind, the bell above the door rang. I looked up, eager to welcome a customer, but as soon as they entered, their eyes grew wide and they turned around and left.

What the hell?

“That was weird,” I said aloud, thought I knew no one was listening.

“What was weird?” Tom asked, shocking me, but still not looking up from his phone.

“That guy just walked in and walked right out,” I said. “That doesn’t happen a lot.”

“Maybe he saw the two employees flirting with the customers and decided to turn around,” Tom said. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, feeling a surge of anger.

“First of all,” I said, “I’m not flirting with you. In fact, the mere idea that I would be flirting with you right now is laughable considering you haven’t even looked at me since you got here.” As if only to contradict my point, Tom locked his phone and looked up. “Second of all-” I looked at April and Harrison who were still wrapped up in their conversation and lowered my voice. “-your friend started this, so don’t act like this is all one-sided.”

“I’m not saying it’s one-sided,” Tom said. “I’m just saying you should never mix business and pleasure.”

“And I’m just saying you’re an asshole,” I muttered, turning to wipe the countertop just for something to do.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Tom said, the right side of his lip raising into a smirk.

“Oh, you’re gonna want to never call me that again,” I said, looking up at him behind squinted eyes.

“Then you’re probably never going to want to call me an asshole,” he said, still smirking. I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.

“What would you prefer?” I asked, painting on a sarcastic smile of my own. “Conceited douchebag?”

“You think I’m conceited?” he asked with a chuckle. “Princess, you don’t even know me.”

“If you call me one more nickname, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” he taunted. “Please enlighten me, darling.”

“I swear to God fucking above-”

“Hey,” April said, causing Tom and I to both snap our heads in her direction. She and Harrison were both watching us. Harrison looked amused. “(Y/N), Harrison wants to know if we want to get dinner tonight.”

“Oh does he?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrow.

“He does,” Harrison said, shooting Tom a glare. “It’ll be fun. And you’re coming, too.”

“I don’t think I am,” Tom said.

Harrison let out an annoyed sigh. “Ladies, could you excuse us for a moment?” April nodded as Harrison stood up and nodded his head for Tom to follow him. Tom did, looking pissed as he did so. April looked at me with hard eyes.

“You’re going,” she said.

“I’m not,” I said. “And you can’t make me.”

“I think I can,” she said.

“And how do you-”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad about Chris.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Chris was an old family friend of my parents’, and I may or may not’ve hooked up with him a couple times.

What? He wasn’t even 40 and he was hot and had a daddy kink. It was only a couple times, and it was over a year ago. I prided myself in keeping it a secret from my parents. I was pretty sure they thought i was still a virgin, and I had no desire to let them think any different.

“You’re a bitch,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“I learn from the best.”

At that exact moment, Harrison and Tom came back. Tom looked just as annoyed as he did before, but Harrison’s smile had grown wider. “Tonight, 7:00,” he said. He handed April a piece of paper that had an address on it. “You can meet us at that address.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re sending us to a crack house where we’re gonna be raped and murdered.”

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N),” April said, slapping my arm.

“It’s our house,” Harrison said with a slight chuckle. “But if you get there and decide it’s too sketchy, feel free to turn around and ditch us.” April laughed, tucking another piece of hair behind her ear, and Harrison smiled again. “Well, we’ll see you two later,” he said. April waved him off, I sent him a sarcastic smile, and he left- Tom following behind him, not sparing us another glance.

5:00 rolled around, and April and I were both getting ready. As soon as she got out of the shower, I got in. April knocked on the door and asked if she could brush her teeth. I let her, and she asked me what I was planning on wearing. “I don’t know,” I answered. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Harrison texted me that it was a nicer place,” she told me.

“He texted you?” I asked, peaking my head out from behind the curtain.

“Yeah,” she said.

“When did you get his number?”

“When he asked us to dinner. It only makes sense.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to my shower. “I still don’t care what I’m wearing,” I told her.

“Well I do,” she said. “You’re going to look cute.”

“I’m going to wear jeans.”

“You are not. You’re going to wear a dress and you’re going to like it.”

“Can’t make me.”

“Chris.”

I stuck my head out from behind the curtain again. The shampoo started to drip down the side of my face. “Have I said yet that I can’t stand you?” I said. “Because I can’t fucking stand you.” April smiled and spit the toothpaste into the sink, then left me alone in the bathroom.

When I finished my shower and went into my bedroom, I saw that April had laid out two outfits for me: one was a black dress, the other a black romper. “Gee!” I yelled to her, knowing she was in her room. “Glad you gave me options.”

“I love you!”

I decided on the romper. It was cute but also kind of sexy. Not that I wanted to look sexy for anyone in particular. Sometimes it was just nice to look sexy for myself. And that was exactly what I told April when she wolf whistled at me. She was wearing a red dress that I knew to be her I’m-gonna-get-some dress. “If you bring him over, don’t keep me up all night,” I told her.

“I won’t make any promises,” she said with a wink.

“Ugh,” I shuddered. “I hate thinking about you having sex.”

“No one’s asking you to think about it.”

We plugged the address Harrison gave us into my phone and headed off. It was about a twenty minute drive, and it looked like it was a nicer area of town. When we pulled up to the house, I saw that I was right. Because this wasn’t a house. This was a mansion. Once I pulled up to the gate (yes, gate), April and I both stared up at the house in awe. I pulled up to the intercom and was met with a voice that said, “Name?”

“Uh, I’m (Y/N),” I said. “And I’m with my sister April. We’re here to meet Tom and Harrison?” There was silence on the other end, but the gate opened and let us in. “I hate this,” I told her. “This is creepy.”

“Creepy?” April repeated. “Are you kidding? They’re rich! This is amazing!”

Harrison and Tom were waiting outside for us. I parked the car in their driveway and got out with April. She approached Harrison with a quick hug, and I trailed behind, awkwardly sending him a wave. Tom had his arms folded across his chest and looked like he wanted to be anywhere except with us. He and Harrison were both wearing the same outfit- black slacks and white button-up shirts. Tom’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, just like they had been the first day we met, but Harrison’s were down to his wrists. Tom’s hair was gelled smoothly, but Harrison’s was fluffier and less put-together. Those two facts alone were perfect examples of the stark differences in their personality.

“We’ll drive, yeah?” Harrison said.

“Okay!” April agreed. Harrison led us to the three-car garage and opened it. In it sat three black vehicles: a Rolls Royce, an Audi, and a Porsche. Mine and April’s jaws both dropped, and Harrison chuckled.

“Have a preference?” Harrison asked.

Before either of us could say anything, Tom said, “We’re taking the Audi.” I rolled my eyes at him, not really caring if he saw. He did. “Is that a problem, princess?” he asked, a smirk growing on his lips.

“Dude, I swear to god-”

“Dude?” Tom repeated.

“Would you prefer motherfucker?”

“(Y/N)!” April said, slapping my arm. Tom, however, just laughed. It was the first time I had heard the sound, and it threw me off guard. It looked like it did the same for April.

“Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl,” Tom said. This earned a roll of the eyes from both me and Harrison. April seemed stunned silent.

“Let’s go,” Harrison said.

The four of us got into the vehicle and headed off to the restaurant. Harrison told us the name of it, but I had never heard of it and neither had April. When we got there, it looked like a little hole-in-the-wall place. When we got inside though, it was like a whole different world. The lights were low, and the decor was fancy. Right away, I felt like I didn’t belong. We had to push through a crowd of people just to find our way to the booth Tom had reserved.

We sat down at the booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant. “Hello Mr. Holland, Mr. Osterfield,” the waiter said as he approached our table. “The usual to drink?”

“Please,” Harrison said at the same time that Tom nodded. “April, (Y/N)?” April and I both asked for waters. I was surprised with how quickly our drinks came back to us. In fact, everything happened quickly. I hadn’t noticed until we were already being handed our meals not even twenty minutes after ordering them. I swore that was a record for any restaurant I had ever been to. Tom and Harrison seemed unphased.

“What is it you guys do?” I asked them both. “Like, I don’t mean to be rude, but the big house? The fancy restaurant just for a couple of strangers? You’ve clearly got no problem throwing money around.”

“(Y/N)!” April said. She was getting annoyed with me, I could tell. At the same time, I didn’t care.

“Real estate,” Tom said.

I snorted. “Real estate? Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?” Tom shrugged and took a sip of his drink- whiskey on the rocks.

“I’m going to go touch up my lipstick,” April said, standing up from the table. “(Y/N), come with me?” It was a command, but she phrased it as a question. I rolled my eyes but followed her anyway. As soon as we were in the bathroom, she turned to me with a huff. “Will you quit being such a bitch?” she said.

“I’m not!” I said.

“Oh fuck off,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m just looking out for you. I don’t trust these guys.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“I know that, but-”

“But nothing! Quit being so mean to them. They’re nice guys.”

“Harrison’s a nice guy,” I said. “Tom-”

“I think he likes you,” she said with a shrug. As my jaw dropped, she turned to the mirror and actually started to reapply her lipstick.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I said.

She shrugged again. “You know how boys can be. They’re rude to the girls they like.”

“In elementary school,” I said. “Besides, what kind of boys will be boys bullshit is that?”

“I think you should just cut him some slack,” she said. “Give him a chance. He may be a little off-putting, but you’re not exactly little-miss-sweetheart either.”

“I’m not little-miss-sweetheart because assholes aren’t my type.”

“Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “You almost exclusively date assholes.”

“And I’m trying something new.”

“That’s what you said before you fucked Chris.”

“April, I swear to god-”

“I’m teasing!” she finally laughed, bumping her hip with mine. “Relax. God, you really need to get laid.”

The rest of the dinner wasn’t too painful. Tom mostly kept his mouth shut, which I was grateful for, but it felt like Harrison and April were in their own world. I didn’t want to pull out my phone because I hated when people did that, but I was getting bored. For lack of anything better to do, I started people watching. A lot of the customers were like Tom and Harrison: put together and rich looking. My eyes were currently trained on a booth across the restaurant. In it sat three men, all probably in their 30s. They were hunched over, talking to each other in hushed voices.

“It isn’t nice to stare,” Tom said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I huffed. “Maybe if you struck up a conversation with me, I wouldn’t have to find entertainment somewhere else.”

“Conversing is a two-way street, sweets,” he said.

“Sweets?” I repeated. “That’s what you’re going with now?”

“I’m just trying things out,” he said, hiding his smirk behind his whiskey. “You haven’t been satisfied with anything else.”

“Because my name is (Y/N),” I said, my fist clenching. “It’s not that hard.”

“I’m more of a nickname kind of guy myself,” Tom said with a shrug.

“Oh?” I said. He was baiting me, I knew, but I was bored so I took it. “And what’re your nicknames?”

“I don’t have nicknames,” he said. “I go by four names and four names alone.”

“And they are?”

“Tom, Mr. Holland, sir, and boss.”

“Boss?”

“Yes?” he said, teasing me again. I rolled my eyes and drank from my water.

“Alright,” I said. “So what are Harrison’s nicknames.”

“Harrison?” Tom said, glancing at his friend before looking at me again. “H, Haz-”

“So original,” I said. Tom shrugged.

“I can’t exactly call him peaches,” he said.

“God,” I groaned. “If you listen to anything I say to me, let it be that I never want you to call me peaches.”

Tom chuckled. “Alright, I’ll give you that one, petal.”

“Petal?”

“Cut me some slack.”

I wasn’t having fun with him. No way.

“So I can’t give you any nicknames?” I asked.

“No you cannot,” he said.

“And what’ll you do if I do?” I asked. I hesitated, then added, “Tommy?” Tom’s jaw clenched, and he downed the last of the whiskey in his glass. He looked me in the eyes -they were darker than they had been all night- and licked his lips.

“If you call me that again,” he said, “I’ll make sure you know why I go by sir.”

“Alright, I think we’re ready to go.”

April was smiling widely, clearly not aware of the conversation she just broke up between me and Tom. I, however, swallowed thickly, not having a clue how to move forward. It was as if Tom had already forgotten, because he stood up and tossed his napkin on the table. Harrison, April, and I stood up from the table as well and followed Tom out to the car.

The ride back to the mansion was silent, and I wasn’t surprised when Tom headed straight inside when we arrived. Harrison whispered something to April, and she giggled and nodded, then waved him off as he went inside. “He’s not coming back with us?” I asked, walking over to my car.

“I’m actually going to stay here with him,” she said, kicking her feet against the ground. I raised my eyebrows. “What?” she said. “It’s fine. It’s not like you’ve never had a one night stand at some other guy’s house.”

“Yeah, but those guys were normal,” I said.

“Listen,” April huffed, “you’ve done it, okay? You did your big sister job. Thank you. I appreciate it. Now please, just let me go. You know our SOS text.”

“Of course I know our SOS text.”

“Alright, then relax unless I send it.”

I rolled my eyes but hugged her anyway, placing a kiss to her cheek. “Be careful,” I told her. “Have fun. Be safe. I don’t want to be an aunt.”

“Jesus,” April laughed, giving me a little shove. “Go! Enjoy your wine and vibrator.”

“I will.”

I sat in the car until April was safely in the house. Safely. Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that being with Harrison and Tom and being safe were mutually exclusive?

----- ----- ----- -----

TAGLIST

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[let-me-love-you-loki]

Loving Too Late

Mattie grinned as she finished setting the table. She’d meticulously arranged places for seven—one for her Dad, her Papa, me, herself, Nicole, Lee, and RJ—and tugged the highchair into place for Ty. Nicole and Lee worked together to sit a row of ten cards down the center of the table. RJ and Ty were playing their roles perfectly—keeping Matt and Nick occupied in the back yard.

           “Okay,” I said, double checking the food set out on the counter. Skillet baked macaroni and cheese. Chicken lasagna. Mashed sweet potatoes. Buttered sweet rolls, and a homemade apple pie for dessert. “I think everything’s ready. What do you guys think?”

           Nicole came to stand next to me, surveying everything they’d done. She smiled and nodded. “Me, too.” She looked at her brother. “You did a great job on the banner, Lee.”

           He beamed, proud of his sister’s praise. “Can I go get Dada and Papa?”

           I grinned and leaned over to press a kiss on his dark hair. “Of course, you can. Go on, then!” I gave him a tap on the butt, and he squealed, running out into the backyard. I could hear his voice shouting for his fathers’ attention.

           “Quick!” Mattie said, grabbing me and her sister by the hands. She tugged us back around behind the counter where we’d stowed Lee’s handmade banner. We ducked down, and I was suddenly struck by how much my little girl had grown.

           She was twelve now and already as tall as me. She’d be looking Nick in the eye before she was finished growing. Hours in the Southern California sun had lightened her dark brown hair and brightened her blue eyes. When I looked at my oldest, I could see so much of Matt and Nick in her. She was so kind and thoughtful, intelligent and fierce. I didn’t want to think about her being a teenager soon.

           The last two years had been rough ones for our family, and Mattie had taken it particularly hard. She’d tried to stick it out at school, but she’d eventually begged us to homeschool her. A new principal had tried to make it better for her—and honestly, we’d had none of the same problems with Nicole or the boys—but the damage had been done. She went to a co-op with a few other kids and got to travel with the boys when they went away for a show. That was her saving grace, I think. Being able to go with them to shows, to learn from them and the others in real time. I hated to think what might have happened without it.

           “We’re coming, we’re coming!” Matt said, his voice just a little exhausted. Four-year-old RJ helped his older brother to pull Matt along into the kitchen. Two-year-old Ty was riding on Nick’s shoulders.

           Mattie looked at us, counting quietly. When she whispered three, we jumped up from behind the counter, stringing the banner between us. Lee had been very careful coloring in the letters that his sisters had traced out on the paper. Happy Father’s Day stood out from the white butcher paper in a flurry of Crayola colors. Black marker outlines and multi-colored paint handprints decorated the edges. Somehow—I wasn’t going to ask for too many details—Bandit, Ranger, and Oreo had gotten their pawprints there too.

           I held up my phone, camera rolling as the boys took in the sight in front of them. Their favorites spread out on the counter, a handmade banner by their kids, and ten cards. And, most importantly, their children happy, healthy, and ready to celebrate them.

           I watched them, so I saw the moment when Nick reached for his brother. They’d grown closer in the time that we’d put our family back together. Nick’s hand closed over Matt’s shoulder. Matt looked back, and a knowing look passed between them. My heart felt light and bright in my chest. I loved them desperately, and I couldn’t ask for more than for our family to be whole, for them to know how much we would be lost without them.

           “Did you guys do all this for us?” Nick asked, looking around the room.

           Nicole put her hands on her hips and nodded. “Yep. And we kept it all a secret.”

           Matt laughed, swiping his fingers beneath his eyes. “Thank you, Bug.” He looked at the others and his eyes misted over again. “Tea, little man, c’mere.”

           I felt the tears running down my cheeks as the kids gathered around Matt and Nick. The boys knelt on the floor, arms wrapping around their children as if they’d never let go. I kept the camera rolling as much for myself as for them. Whatever had happened, the one thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that they loved their children more than anything else in the world.

           “Alright,” Nick said, wiping his eyes. He took a deep breath and smiled. He clapped his hands twice. “Let’s do it, Jacksons.”

           Like little soldiers, the kids lined up around the table. Matt said grace, his voice wavering as he thanked God for his father, his brother, the kids, and me. Once he was finished, he looked around at the kids. “Go on, get your plates.”

           Mattie and Nicole vehemently shook their heads. “No. You and Dad go first.” The girls practically shooed them toward the counter.

           Nick laughed and looked over at me. “You’re both just like your mother,” he said playfully, dropping kisses on their foreheads as he passed by.

           “Thank you,” Nicole said with a grin.

           I leaned against the counter, camera still rolling, as Matt and Nick started filling their plates with everything they wanted. I grinned as Matt stuck his finger in the macaroni, licking up the melted cheese. “Is this Cracker Barrell?”

           “No,” I replied. “Homemade.”

           Matt’s brows went up. “You sure?”

           I laughed. “You sound like I can’t make good baked macaroni and cheese.”

           “That’s not what I meant,” he replied sheepishly. “But I’m going to shut up and eat.”

           Once they had their food, they went back to the table. Mattie took control of her brothers, helping them fix their plates and carry them over to the table. I smiled, so incredibly proud of her even as I worried that she’d been forced to grow up too fast.

           “Open your cards,” I said, gesturing toward the table. “The kids picked them out themselves.”

***

           Matt and Nick had fallen asleep on the sofa in Nick’s house, the kids gathered around them from watching a movie. Ty slept with his head on Nick’s shoulder. Lee had his head pillowed on his Dad’s thigh. Nicole and RJ were snuggled up on each side of Matt, his arms draped protectively around them. Mattie slept between them, head in Nick’s lap, feet tucked behind her sister’s back.

           I took a couple pictures, knowing that I was going to get one and print it to hang in both houses. In the quiet moments like this, I could take time to appreciate everything I had. For fifteen years, I’d had Matt, who loved me with a completeness that was more than I could have dreamed. I’d had Nick, who had been my best friend, who loved me fiercely and unselfishly. Through all the ups and downs, the worry and confusion about this life we lived, they’d done their best, loved me, loved each other, broken and rebuilt, held together and made everything worthwhile.

           Every one of my children were beautiful and breathtaking. They were the best thing that ever happened to me. I would die for each and every one of them. I smiled and wiped away the tears on my lashes.

           Matt opened his eyes, blinking as he realized where he was. Nicole let out a harrumph at being jostled, but snuggled right back to sleep against her Papa’s chest. I met my husband’s eyes and smiled. “They’re getting too big to carry to bed.”

           Something sad passed over him. “They’ll never be too big.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @lilred91​ @imagineall-the-fandoms​ @maelleoute​ @librathepheonix13

[eilonwiiy]

Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 8

When Aeduan’s old partner shows up, he is confronted with a shocking piece of news.  Meanwhile, Iseult learns that not talking is just as hard as talking.

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi @twilightlegacy13

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

“You surprise me, partner.”

Aeduan’s jaw ticced.  He didn’t need to look to know who was behind him.

“Never did hear where you ended up.  Not that I asked.”

Slowly, Aeduan turned to face Lizl.  She hadn’t changed since he left the force.  Her dark hair was pulled in a single tight braid, not a hair out of place, leaving her amber brown face bare.  Her badge gleamed against her policeman’s uniform, shiny, like she’d polished it the night before.  Aeduan knew that she did.  They’d been partners, after all.

As tall as Aeduan was, Lizl was taller.  He rolled his gaze upward, expression flat.  She was grinning smugly at him, like she’d caught him in a more nefarious act than buying coffee.

“What, no hug?” she asked innocently.

Aeduan didn’t react.  “What do you want, Lizl?”

“A cup of coffee.”  She folded her arms across her chest.  Her posture was deceptive in its casualness.  In the 14 years he’d known Lizl, he’d come to know that there wasn’t a relaxed bone in her body.  “Turns out this place runs a good bargain.”  She gestured to him.  “Free refills and a floorshow.”

Lizl’s gaze fell to Owl in his arm and Aeduan watched her expression soften.  She may have hated Aeduan’s guts, but there were lines she wouldn’t cross.  She wouldn’t pull any shots in front of a child.  She held herself to a strict moral code that wasn’t just reserved for convicts.  It was one of the things Aeduan respected most about her.  

That didn’t mean he had to like her, though.

Aeduan glanced over at the coffee counter.  Iseult hadn’t come back yet and some of the tension he’d been holding since Lizl’s surprise appearance loosened.  That kid was probably still talking her ear off and for that, he was grateful - even if that did mean she was suffering.  He didn’t want her to see him with a cop.  For some reason, he cared about what she would think.  He didn’t know why, but he did.

“What do you want, Lizl?” he demanded again more firmly.  

“Nothing.  You’re about the last person I’d ever want to run into,” she answered, a little of her casual exterior slipping.  There was a hint of sourness in her tone.  Her jaw clenched and unclenched with her lips pressed firmly shut as they stared at each other.  

“So,” she finally said.  “Is it everything you hoped it’d be?”

“Is what everything I’d hoped it would be?” Aeduan asked, more bored than curious.

“Life without the badge.”  Lizl paused.  “Or your daddy’s leash.”

So much for that strict moral code.

Aeduan swiped his coffee cup off the counter and, without so much as a glance at Lizl, marched to the door and left the cafe.  There were lines Aeduan wouldn’t cross in front of Owl too.  If he’d stayed, he might forget that.  Besides, he didn’t owe her anything.  If anything, he’d done her a favor by walking away - from police force and right now.

It didn’t take long for the bells above the door to Jitters to jingle again.

“I just don’t get it,” Lizl voice knifed through the cold.  It had started to flurry.  “That job was your life.  You were in your dad’s pocket.  Set to make detective.  Become head of the department when Bastien retired.  Why throw it all away?”

“Why do you care?” Aeduan snarled, pivoting and getting right up in her face.  He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake Owl.

Lizl frowned, not the least bit phased by him invading her personal space.  “I don’t care.  I’m just- confused.  You could have had everything.”

“And with me out of the way you can have everything.  That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  Make detective, have a shot at the promotion.”  Lizl only stared stonily at him and Aeduan shook his head, expelling some of his frustration and replacing it with exasperation.  “I don’t know why you're angry at me.  We were never friends.”

Lizl nodded.  “Just partners.”

“Exactly.  So what is the problem?  I thought you’d be happy that I left.”

A bitter laugh burst from Lizl’s mouth.  “Happy?”  She shook her head at the ground and dug her boot heel into the concrete, leaving little half moons in the thin layer of snow coating the sidewalk.  She buried her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.  She seemed to be weighing her options - over what Aeduan had no idea.  He just watched, waiting.  When Lizl looked up, she was grinning, but there was no amusement in it.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Aeduan’s insides went cold.  “What are you talking about?”

Lizl looked off to the side.  Something had shifted.  The hostility was gone.  She just shook her head like she couldn’t get over whatever it was she was about to say.  Eventually, she looked him dead in the eye.  

“I didn’t make detective.”

A line wedged itself between Aeduan’s eyebrows.  He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but he hadn’t expected that.  With or without Aeduan in her way, Lizl was a shoe-in for the job, a star cadet all throughout their time at the academy, second only to Aeduan.  No one worked harder than she did.  Her not making detective was… inconceivable.  

For the first time in months, Aeduan felt the heady rush of a facing puzzle itching to be solved.  There had to be some ulterior motive on the line here.  She wasn’t giving him the full picture.  

“And I didn’t get the promotion.”

Aeduan’s spine straightened.  He didn’t like the way Lizl was looking at him.  She was still wearing that awful smile that wasn’t a smile.  It set his nerves on edge.  

“Would you like to know who your father picked for the job?”

Aeduan found himself tensing, bracing for the answer without asking to be told.  

“Natan fon Leid.”

Natan fon Leid.  It took a whole 5 seconds for the name to sink in.  He’d grown into quite the impressive egotistical prick, having been a bully all of Aeduan’s childhood.  He’d never really understood how or why the jerk was stationed in the Domestic Violence Unit.  He wasn’t exactly a drain on the department, but as far as he could tell, there wasn’t an altruistic bone in Natan’s body.  The thought of him running the DVU was unsettling to say the least.

And complete bullshit.

“My father,” Aeduan said, doing nothing to keep the venom out of his voice, “would never replace Bastien with Natan fon Leid.  Bastien was a man of honor.  Integrity.  Natan is nothing more than a power hungry lapdog.”

“I agree,” Lizl responded without blinking an eye.  “And now he’s your father’s lapdog.”

Aeduan’s chest puffed out.  He hated the way his blood boiled at even the slightest mention of his father, even though they weren’t speaking - even though he had every right to despise him.  He still couldn’t temper the urge to come to his defense.  And that angered him even more - maybe more than anything Lizl had to say.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out coldly.  There wasn’t much else he could do with Owl curled into his chest.

“Ask him,” Lizl simply replied, ununciating each word crisp and cool.  It sounded more like a challenge than a suggestion.

He’d do no such thing.  

Aeduan had never been crazy enough to carry around some fancy notion that being partners had meant anything to Lizl.  She’d never liked him.  Hated him, even.  But they’d worked alongside each other for years and never let their personal feelings get in the way of justice.  

The snow was coming down in earnest now.  Owl stirred in Aeduan’s arm breaking the tension for them.  Lizl’s expression went blank and after a couple seconds of grudging deliberation, she gestured resignedly to her squad car parked by the sidewalk.

“Do you want a ride?” she asked.  She sounded tired, like she already knew the answer.

Aeduan didn’t reply.  He didn’t say goodbye.  He just turned away from Lizl and left her standing on the sidewalk.  There was nothing left to say.  Not to her, at least.

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

The new Fiona Apple album thrumming through Iseult's earbuds was doing nothing to cover up the lively debate going on in her head.

For what felt like the first time in forever, Iseult wasn’t working in the Children’s Room, but rather shelving books upstairs as she once used to.  She should have been relieved.  She could finally have a quiet evening without the stress of worrying about patrons coming up to her with questions or children unexpectedly popping up between bookshelves.  

But she wasn’t relaxed.  She couldn’t relax, in fact.  No, instead, she was torturing herself over whether or not to call Aeduan.

Leave it to her to let a complete stranger ruin her evening of peace.  She still carried his phone number from their encounter at Jitters yesterday in the safety of her pocket, and even though the first thing she'd done when she got to work was find his book, she had yet to get in touch with him.  

She’d said she would, so she should.  But with each hour that passed, it was growing more and more late, and the window of opportunity to call was getting smaller by the second.  Surely Aeduan would still be up.  But as the clock approached 9, she found herself wishing she had mustered the courage to call him during the day when it was still light outside.

For Iseult, nighttime meant winding down.  Eating leftover Arithuanian takeout right out of the carton in her monkey slippers and fuzzy bathrobe.  Curling up with a book and falling asleep mid-paragraph with the light on.  

But this was Veñaza City and she was some weird anomaly.  While she was nose-deep in Joan Didion, some twenty-something year old was taking their third shot of the evening before heading out to a party.  While she was setting her phone alarm for 6 a.m., someone was texting their hook-up.  While her and Safi fought over who got to take a shower first in the morning, someone was getting thrown out of a bar.

Veñaza was a college town and it was no secret to Iseult that she was living a much less thrilling life than her former peers.  While normally that wouldn’t bother her (why submit herself to the experience of doing jello shots when the option to eat a jello cup and not throw up was right there?), wondering if Aeduan shared her nightime habits made her feel self-conscious.  He may have had a kid, but that didn’t make him a monk.

She thought about what it would be like dialing his number and him picking up, his voice deep and rough sounding on the other end of the phone.  A shiver ran through her.  Then nausea.

She couldn’t do it.  

Late night phone calls were reserved for hook-ups or emergencies.  Not librarians.

She sighed.  She was left with two choices:

She could call first thing in the morning.  While she had just spent the last hour wondering what Aeduan did at night, this option brought with it another dilemma: how Aeduan spent his mornings.  Iseult didn’t know why, but he seemed like the type of guy to start his day early.  Down a glass of orange juice, go for a jog around the neighborhood, and be showered and dressed by 7:30 kind of guy.  

Iseult shook her head.  She really didn’t need to be fantasizing about his morning routine.  And she definitely didn’t need to think about him showering.  Nope.  She definitely wasn’t thinking about him naked and dripping with water.

Stasis, Iseult.  Stasis.

Then there was the more tempting and pathetic option: she could scrap calling him altogether.  And what great loss would that be really? she thought to herself.  It wasn’t like he was sitting by the phone waiting for her call.  He probably didn’t even remember asking for the book or giving her his number in the first place.  Her stomach dropped at the thought.

She was overthinking this.  Big time.

She rolled back to their conversation yesterday and how Cam had interrupted them.  She was sure that Aeduan had been about to ask her something just as Cam burst through the door.  She didn't hold it against the kid, but she was dying to know what Aeduan was going to say.  And then, of course, there was the mystery of the cop.  She'd seen them talking outside.  By the looks of it, it wasn't a friendly chat.  It had ended with Aeduan storming off and the woman cop looking troubled.

Iseult slipped a hand into her pocket and dug out the napkin with Aeduan’s phone number.  She unfolded it and looked it over, just as she had the dozen or so times since he’d given it to her.  By now she’d memorized the 12 neat letters strung together in broken cursive underneath the number.  Aeduan Amalej.  

A pulled in a shaky breath and retrieved her phone next.  For a paralyzing moment, she held them out in front of her, the number in one hand and her phone in the other.  Thinking.  Stalling.  

“Moon Mother, you are such an idiot,” she muttered to herself before unlocking her phone - her hand shaking with nerves - and punched in Aeduan’s number.

Right into a new text message.

Ok, so she’d told him he’d call him.  But this way she didn’t need to find out just how devastating her stutter be over the phone.  With her sanity hanging in the balance, copping out of calling was of little consequence.  There were way more pathetic things she’d done in her 21 years of living.  This wouldn’t be a highlight in her memoirs.  

With that in mind, she got to it and prayed that she typed faster than her determination could devolve into an entirely new spiral about whether or not a text was too casual.

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

Aeduan knew he was in trouble the moment he opened the book.  

Chapter One

My Father Meets the Cat

Owl’s eyes had widened as Adeuan read the words and she’d peered up at him from her place under his arm nestled into his side.  

It had taken every bit of restraint he had to keep his expression neutral.  The librarian just had to pick a book that featured a stray cat.  

Iseult had been right though: Owl loved the book.  Every night for the last week, Owl would crawl into his bed, make her nest, and sit there, impatiently waiting for him to finish meditating and running through his nightly stretches.  He made sure to take his time; he wasn’t about to teach Owl that she could get anything she wanted just by giving him those sad puppy eyes of hers.  He'd had plenty of practice resisting those eyes with Cora, who as a little more needy than Lisbet; Owl was powerless over him.  Most of the time.

Meditation was an important, albeit unexpected, part of Aeduan’s life.  It was the one lesson from Evrane that actually stuck.  Sometimes he wondered why, out of everything, this one practice never wavered.  Over the years, it had become more than a ritual in calming the body and quieting the mind.  It had become his anchor.  Something he depended on.  Somewhere along the way, he’d learned that how he started and ended his day was the one thing he had true control over.  He'd been taught early in life that there was no prelude to change.  If he could hold on to this one thing, he would.    

Luckily for Owl, he was done with meditating for tonight.  Even with his years of practice, he hadn’t found much solace in it.  He couldn’t get what Lizl told him yesterday out of his head.

He had told himself to forget about it the moment he’d walked away.  That the police department wasn’t his problem anymore.  He’d left for a reason, and even if he tried to convince himself that it was all because of Owl, he knew deep down that that wasn’t true.

Storming away from Lizl had felt good.  Right.  But now…

Doubt plagued his every thought.  He couldn’t shake it off.  This feeling that Lizl was telling the truth.  They’d never liked each other, but he knew that - just like him - she respected him enough to trust him on the job.  He saw it in the moments that mattered most.  She was one of the good ones.

And the fact remained that Lizl wasn’t a manipulator.  It wasn’t in her nature.  Why bother with mind games when honesty landed harder?  There really wasn’t any reason for her to lie to him.  So that meant what she’d told him was the truth.

But why?  Why would his father give Natan the job?  He was an unmitigated piece of shit and Ragnor had always shown very little tolerance for unmitigated pieces of shit.  If his father had promoted Natan to the top spot, then he had a reason.  A good one.  

He should just forget it, he told himself for the hundredth time.

For the next half hour, Aeduan found his mind wandering, even as he read aloud, and it was some time before he realized that Owl had drifted off to sleep.  

He sighed, letting his head drop against the headboard, and the book propped up in his hand fell closed against the comforter with a soft thwump.  He stared at the opposite wall, knowing he should transfer Owl to her own bed before it got any later, but he couldn’t find the motivation to move.    

Lizl.  Ragnor.  Natan.  Their names were an endless chant in his head.  A chant that rang of doubt and the promise of another sleepless night for Aeduan.    

There was only one way to put an end to the madness.  He’d need to go directly to the source: his father.

The thought alone was enough to make Aeduan want to slide down his mattress and pull the covers over his head.  He didn’t, of course.  But the impulse was there, as embarrassing as that was.  

It’d been 3 long months since he’d last seen his father.  3 months since he’d marched into his office, left his gun and badge on his desk, and walked out of his life.  Ragnor hadn’t even tried to get in touch with him since.  Aeduan hadn’t expected him to.

He didn’t know how he felt about that.  Hurt, probably.  His father’s silence was louder than most.  But Aeduan was the last bit of Dysi left on this earth.  Had it been easy for his father to let go of his only son?  He’d done that with everything else that reminded him of Dysi after she’d passed, so why not him too?

Pressure pounded behind Aeduan’s eyes.  His head ached.  Not getting more than an hour or two of sleep the night before must have been catching up to him.  Maybe he’d just let Owl stay in his bed.  If he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be alone right now.

A soft chime broke the silence in the bedroom.  Curious, Aeduan turned to his nightstand where the sound had come from.  His phone softly glowed with activity and he could see the animated little envelope on the screen that meant he had a new text message.  Careful not to disturb Owl, he reached for the phone and grabbed it from the stand.  He settled back against his pillows, expecting to see something from Lisbet, the only person he had the patience to text with - even if she did bombard him with memes he didn’t understand.  Before even opening the message, he was all ready to tell her to get off her phone and go to bed.

But it wasn’t Lis.

It was an unknown number.  He frowned.  But then he read the message, and he realized who it was.  His heart stopped.

Unknown Number – 9:07 PM

>> I found the book you wanted.  I put it on hold for you.  You can come pick it up anytime.  

>> (Hi.  This is Iseult from the library.)

Without even realizing it, the noise in Aeduan’s head faded to nothing.  Iseult had said she’d let him know about the book, but he was still surprised to hear from her.  And - he thought, checking the time - so late.  

He reread the message a couple more times before clicking the screen off.  He was about to return his phone to the nightstand when he paused.  

He should probably respond with… something.

Aeduan pulled his hand back, easing back on to his pillows, and opened the message.  His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of something to say.  His eyes flicked to Owl, dead asleep next to him, then he began typing.  

Aeduan - 9:18 PM

>> Ok.

Well.  Ok then.  Obligation fulfilled.

Aeduan took off his reading glasses and stowed them along with his phone on his nightstand before he switched off the lamp, plunging the room in darkness.  He settled beneath his covers and rested his head on his pillow.  He felt the ball of warmth that was Owl curled up beside him.  Moonlight streamed in from the windows, and for a few quiet minutes, he watched the snow falling outside.

An hour later, Aeduan rolled over and reached for the phone on his nightstand.

Aeduan - 10:16 PM

>> I’ll come by tomorrow and pick it up.      

[iwantthedean]

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part Four: Jonagold. Honey-tart.

Summary: With Ms. Kitty’s encouragement, Y/N attempts to make peace with Jensen.   Pairing: None … yet. (But I think we all know where this is going.) Word Count: 2303 Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :) 

Masterlist

The next time you brought baked goods to The Farmer’s Stand, Ms. Kitty greeted you with a big smile. She took the box from you and set it back, until it could be added into the inventory.

“Good thing you brought in more -- we’ve got a visitor in town who has been coming in regularly. It’s a wonder he hasn’t turned into an apple.” She chuckled at her own joke.

You gave a polite smile. “A visitor? Well, I’ll take whatever I can earn at this point.”

Ms. Kitty’s son, Stephen, came out from the office. “Y/N, good afternoon. I thought I heard your voice. Brought some more goods for us?”

“I did,” you sighed. “Thanks.”

He took the box from behind the counter and brought it into the office. The sooner it got into inventory, the sooner it would sell, so you didn’t mention much else about it. Instead, you stayed to visit a little longer with Ms. Kitty. Before you could leave, she asked how things were at the farm.

With a sigh, you shook your head. “I’m going to have to call Dad next week, I think -- I mean, I know. It’s time. The bank denied me, and I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know why I’m putting it off at this point, since there’s nothing else I can do, and they’ve already got someone visiting who wants to buy the place.”

For the first time in this visit, Ms. Kitty’s smile changed to a concerned frown. “A handsome young man? Jensen?”

The thing about living in a small town was that if there was a visitor, and he was showing interest in baked goods from a specific farm that was also up for sale, and there was also a visitor interested in buying the farm … chances were, it was the same visitor. In this case, that was absolutely true.

“That’s the one,” you nodded. “I know he feels bad, but it’s hard to like him. When he came to see the farm the first time, he didn’t tell me why he was there. Now he’s made an offer. He even brought me flowers at the school to apologize. But I can’t get past any of the rest of it enough to care.”

The older woman thought for a moment, then went to the office where her son was working. She came back with one of the foil pans of apple-cinnamon rolls you had brought in.

“I don’t think he’s had these yet,” Ms. Kitty said, handing the pan over to you. “Take him these -- as a peace offering. You may figure out something, yet.”

A peace offering hadn’t crossed your mind before, but once she mentioned it -- this woman who had known you and your family all your life -- it suddenly seemed like the thing to do. She knew where he was staying, so you took the cinnamon rolls, thanked her for everything, and went to make an apology.

* * * * *

The last thing Jensen expected was a visitor. Except for Ms. Kitty, maybe, he hadn’t really made any friends in this town, and he didn’t expect her to be knocking on his hotel room door. He checked around to make sure the room wasn’t disastrously messy, then went to answer the door.

“Hi. These are for you.” Y/N stood in the hallway, looking more nervous than he had ever seen anyone before. “Um, I was dropping stuff off to the The Farmer’s Stand and Kitty said you’ve been buying a lot of it. She said you hadn’t tried these yet, and I mentioned -- anyway. That’s all more than you need to know, I suppose. I’m bringing these as a peace offering.”

“Peace offering?”

Y/N nodded. Now that he was holding the cinnamon rolls, she couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with her hands. “I was a jerk. I mean, well, you were a jerk because you lied, but then you brought the flowers and you were honest. I could have been more appreciative of that. My problems are not your problems. So, I’m sorry.”

Jensen wasn’t sure what to say. Y/N waited for about thirty seconds before giving him one last look and turning on her heel. Quickly, he set the rolls down in his room and jogged after her. He slipped around her and into her path, causing her to take a startled step backwards.

“Sorry about that,” Jensen chuckled, “didn’t mean to spook you. I wasn’t expecting anyone, let alone you, so it took a second to process that you were actually here and saying stuff -- I figured you’d hate me forever. Maybe you still will.”

Y/N was the one who had to process this time. “Um, no, I don’t -- I don’t hate you. Like I said, my problems are not your problems. I know you made an offer on the place, but it’s only fair for me to tell you, I’m not done fighting to keep my home.”

“I wouldn’t want you to stop fighting. I could tell right away how much the place means to you. Just consider me a last resort.”

A look crossed her face that Jensen couldn’t quite identify. She shook her head and put her hands in her back pockets.

“I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but do you want to come by for dinner? I have a crockpot of chili on that I definitely won’t finish on my own, and maybe we can keep talking about this, or other stuff. I did enjoy your company last week.” She was quick to add, “Unless that’s too weird, or I’m coming off as interested, because I’m not. And I don’t want it to be weird.”

He almost couldn’t believe this was the same woman he had spent an afternoon in the orchard with just days before. Of course, their interactions since then hadn’t exactly been easy.

“No, dinner would be great.”

She nodded. “Great. See you around six?”

Jensen nodded, too. “Six is perfect. I’ll see you then.”

She gave a tight smile and sidestepped him, hurrying out of the elevator without even looking back. Jensen made way back to his hotel room, hoping that she would be more at ease by the time he arrived that evening.

* * * * *

You whined into the phone, hoping Taylor would give you some idea of how to get out of the dinner invitation you had extended before you could even think about what a horrible idea it was to have Jensen Ackles over for dinner.

“I mean, what in the hell was I thinking? That I’ll have him over for dinner and he’ll eat the chili I made and suddenly not want to buy the place and I’ll be able to buy it? It’s not going to fix anything. In fact, it will probably make it worse.”

Taylor took her time in replying. “You did say that you two got along really well before you found out why he’s really here. Maybe it won’t be so bad -- you know, if you can take a deep breath and act like yourself.”

“Taylor, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, obviously,” Taylor laughed, “but it seems like you’re overthinking all of this. You were interested before you knew that he was potentially buying your place, right?”

“Right. My place. My beloved, cherished, beautiful family home.”

“All right, all right. Freak out if you want to, but I’m not going to give you a reason not to have him over.”

You groaned. “Some friend you are. I’ll call you when he leaves.”

“Have fun,” Taylor replied in a singsong voice before disconnecting the call. You set the phone on the counter and sighed.

Everything was ready. The house was spotless, the chili and a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls had filled the place with the wonderful smell of spices and apples. It was only a few minutes before six, which meant you still have several minutes to --

Before you could finish the thought, the doorbell rang. He was early. Crap.

You smoothed out your clothes and your hair and went to answer the door. With your hand on the knob, you took a deep breath and decided Taylor was right. You just needed to calm down and act like yourself.

* * * * *

“It smells amazing in here.”

Jensen had practiced his opening line over and over, and that wasn’t it -- although that one was probably better than the lame ‘hello’ he had settled on during the drive over.

Y/N smiled and motioned for him to come into the house. “Thanks. Chili’s ready and I made another batch of cinnamon rolls to go with it.”

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, then continued on to the kitchen behind her. “The apple ones?”

She nodded, raising her brow. “Um, yes? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay! I had one after you left earlier. I heard you’re a really good teacher, Y/N, but I think you might have missed a baking calling, too.”

She laughed as she pulled two glasses down from the cupboard. “My grandmother taught me a lot, and I’ve done these recipes about a hundred times, is all. What are you thirsty for? I’ve got water, lemonade, beer …”

“Apple ale?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nope.”

“Hard cider?”

Her laugh grew in intensity, pulling a smile to Jensen’s lips. “Yes, I do a lot with apples around here but not in the way of hard beverages. No pumpkin beer, either, before you ask.”

“I’ll start with water, thanks.”

She pulled a filtered pitcher from the fridge and filled both glasses. After she put the pitcher back, she came back with two longnecks.

“Figured we’ll be into those sooner rather than later. Chili and water just … let’s be real.”

Jensen chuckled and helped her carry the drinks to the table. He noted the bouquet he had brought her settled in a goldenrod-colored vase in the middle of the table. He wanted to mention it, but maybe bringing attention to one of their negative interactions wasn’t the best idea.

Y/N told Jensen to have a seat. She went into the kitchen and came back with a tray of fixings, and two full bowls of chili. One more trip to the kitchen and back completed the array on the table with the cinnamon rolls.

She didn’t take long after starting her own bowl of chili to pop open her beer, so Jensen followed suit.

“So, I think you’ve really charmed Ms. Kitty,” she commented, biting into a roll.

Jensen chuckled. “She’s sweet. Probably the only person in this town who likes me at the moment.”

“I don’t know. Mr. Kemp says you’re all right.”

“I’m not sure he really believes that though, it might be more for your benefit. If he didn’t have to do business with me, he probably wouldn’t like me, either.”

She smiled big enough to show her dimples. “He’s a good man. You wanna know something?”

Jensen shrugged. “Sure.”

Y/N set her spoon in the bowl and sat back in her chair. “I think you’re probably a good man, too, but I haven’t given you a fair chance. This place means everything to me, but it’s just -- it’s just a place, right? It’s the memories that are important. Maybe it’s time for me to bow out, and more gracefully than I have up to now. Once I talk to my dad on Monday, make sure I really have run through all my options, then I’ll sign the offer and the place is yours. Will you just do me one favor?”

Jensen took swig from the bottle in front of him. “I’m sure whatever you can ask for, I owe you at least that.”

“Will you let me stay until after the New Year? So I can have one more Christmas here?”

He smiled. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about the farm in the meantime.”

She raised her brow. “You want to stick around?”

“I mean, I like it here,” he said, raising one shoulder. “And if I’m gonna buy this place, I’ll be around more. I should work on getting people to like me more.”

He was happy to see that her joke had succeeded in making her laugh, and chased away the glaze of potential tears that had formed when she asked him to extend the closing date into the new year.

They packaged up the leftovers and loaded the dishwasher together. While Y/N wiped down the counters, Jensen finished off his beer -- and another cinnamon roll. She took the plate he had practically licked clean, along with his fork, and loaded that into the dishwasher before starting the machine. She picked up her own beer and leaned across the counter from him.

“Can I show you something before you go?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They bundled up in jackets and scarves, and jensen pulled a beanie over his head. Y/N led him back out to the farm truck, and drove them over to the orchard.

Every row of trees was lit up with white twinkle lights. He looked over at Y/N, who was grinning from ear to ear, and looking between him and the trees, waiting for his response. Jensen realized it had been a long time since he had indulged himself on the more simple pleasures in life.

“This is really great,” he finally ceded.  

“Isn’t it?” she sighed. “The foreman set them up the other day. After Thanksgiving, they’ll do every other row with multi-colored lights. It’s silly, but we’ve just always done it that way.”

Jensen mingled his fingers with hers. Her hands were just as cold as his, but all he felt was warmth.

* * * * * * * * * *

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