#so thank you for being here i hope you find something you like

[moonchildstyles]

complicated

y/n meets someone, only to find out that he's going to be her stepbrother

wordcount: 17.3k+

—————

(Y/N)'s mouth pinched as she looked at the aisles of wine before her. Knowing her Uncle Mick, he wasn't even going to have a sip, not when he had whisky in the cabinet instead. But, it felt wrong meeting his new girlfriend—fianceé, actually, as of last weekend—empty handed. She wanted to make a good first impression, especially since she hadn't made any serious efforts to come by and meet her until her uncle dropped the proposal on her. 

Truthfully, it was because of her uncle; he was a hopeless romantic who had told (Y/N) on more than one occasion that he had fallen in love with someone he'd just met in the years since his wife had passed. It was hard justifying taking time off from work and booking plane tickets for a short-lived relationship.

But, that obviously wasn't the case this time. He'd been raving about this woman—Anne—for the last six months. Enough so that he purchased a ring and wanted to marry her as soon as they could thread something together. And her Uncle Mick wanted her to be a part of the whole process—she was the daughter he never had, he'd said. 

So, even if he wasn't going to take a single sip of whatever rosé she picked out, she was going to do it anyway. She needed to get to know this woman and let her know that she was going to be welcomed with open arms into this small, but loving family. 

Perusing down the aisle, (Y/N)'s eye caught a bottle with a golden foiling around the cork. The label was especially pretty, printed in French with a year on it that would take at least a couple of minutes for (Y/N) to do the math on. It was pretty, and undoubtedly more worth more money than she planned on spending tonight. But, that was the point, she thought. 

She'd make more money, but her uncle wasn't going to get married again. (She hoped, anyway).

The only problem? It was on the very top shelf and nowhere near the edge. She wasn't going to be able to reach it unless she called for help from one of the employees wandering around here. They didn't particularly seem to be in the mood, though. She didn't blame them, what with this being how they spent their Friday evening, watching every patron come in looking for some liquor to kick the night off. 

Looking around, she wondered if there was anything around here, one of those pokers that many retail spaces used to get high up t-shirts off the top racks. She knew the idea was stupid before she even finished the thought, but she couldn't completely ignore the hope that fizzled in her chest. 

Okay, maybe if she stood on the tips of her toes and reached really hard, then jumped she could reach it. Yeah, she could try that. Hopefully, she would only be able to reach the bottle she wanted and not knock over the plenty of other ones lining the shelves. 

With her hand blindly reaching the top of the shelf, fingertips grazing the empty surface, (Y/N) readied herself to jump as high and controlled as she could. 

"Do y'need help?"

The stranger's voice knocked her out of her plan. At the end of the aisle was a man with curling brown hair looking at her with a pinch between his brows. He had a white button up covering his torso, a light blue cardigan slouching over his form. He didn't wait for his answer before he started towards her.

"Um," she started, dropping to stand flat on her feet, "Yeah, actually. Thanks." 

"Of course," he smiled, relief unstitching his brows. "'M happy I caught y'before y'jumped. I don't think that would have worked out like y'hoped." 

"Me neither," she laughed, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, "But thank you. I was trying to reach the gold one on top." 

His smile was kind as he effortlessly reached for the bottle. (Y/N) couldn't help the way her eyes dropped over him, appraising every inch. Rings glittered on his hands, some with gaudy gems, others nothing more than brassy bands. The cardigan she had seen across the aisle was actually a knitted depiction of a cloudy sky, fluffs of clouds stitched into the material. His trousers were a warm brown, matching the belt cinched around his waist and shin of his shoes. As he reached, his hand had a cross inked between his thumb and forefinger. 

He was really cute. Really, really cute. In a real way, she considered if he was a model. Why a model like him, with a perfect nose and shattered green eyes, would be in the wine aisle of the liquor store of her home, she had no idea, but she was grateful for whatever circumstances put him here. 

Blinking away from him in hopes of concealing just how intently she had been staring at him, (Y/N) graciously took the offered bottle in his outstretched hand. 

"Thanks," she smiled, "Thinking now, I don't think my plan would have worked." 

The man in front of her settled in, hands in pockets as he gazed down at her. "Yeah? Rethinking the jump?" 

"Oh yeah," she laughed, "I think my bag alone would have knocked down an entire shelf." 

A short, breathy laugh fell from his lips. "Definitely. Would've ruined your night before 's even started." He gave a pointed look to the bottle in her hand. 

"Oh no, I'm just going to my uncle's house for dinner. He probably wouldn't have even noticed if I was soaked in wine with glass stuck in my jacket as long as he had food in front of him." 

The man hummed, giving a slow drag of his eyes over her form. "I don't know. You're hard to ignore." 

Her skin was decidedly warmer under his gaze. She couldn't bite back the grin that sparked over her features. 

"In a good way?" she chirped, blinking up at him as if he were the sun and she a flower. 

He had dimples. Her breath clung to her throat. 

"Only the best," he flirted, shifting on his feet as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He hesitated before reaching for the device. A beat passed as she let him read the notification, his lips thinning before glancing up at her. "I have to get going, but... I hope this isn't weird to ask, but could I have your number? Or whatever y'would want to share?" 

The man had come off so confident, approaching her without prompting. Lazily dragging his eyes over her with his hand shrugged in his pockets, entirely sure of what he could offer her should she take him up on it. But, now, asking for any way to contact her, he had struggled to find his words. She watched as he attempted to form the best way to ask for her number, a thin smile on his lips. 

She only nodded her head. "I can give you my number." 

The man before her brightened, dimples and bunny teeth on display. "Cool," he muttered, offering his phone up the same way he had offered the wine. 

Typing in her information, she glanced at him through her lashes. "My name's (Y/N), by the way." 

"Oh, yeah," he rushed out, breathing out a huff of laughter, "That's right—names. 'M Harry." 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she smiled, passing his phone back, "Thanks, again." 

"Yeah, yeah," he grinned, looking down at the new contact on his phone. "Of course. I'll—um—I'll text you soon. Have a nice night at your uncle's." 

"Have a nice night," (Y/N) said, biting back her own grin.

Harry hesitated in his spot for a moment, looking at her with pretty green eyes and fluttering lashes before forcing himself to take off.

He only glanced back at her twice. 

—————

Sitting in her rental car, the drive to Uncle Mick's house mapped on her phone, (Y/N) took a moment in the silence. 

What kind of romantic comedy had she just found herself in? Giving out her number to random, pretty boys she met in the liquor store of all places. If she found out this had been a bad choice later, she would blame the cloud cardigan and the shades of green in his eyes. Anyone would melt when faced with those. 

Pushing the car into drive, (Y/N) allowed herself to wonder for a moment just how long she would have to wait for him to message her. She hoped she wouldn't have to wait very long at all before she had a chance to see him again. 

—————

(Y/N) felt out of breath as she approached the front door of her Uncle Mick's house, as if she had ran here instead of driven. 

The traffic on the way here had been humbling to say the least. And to think she called his place her hometown when she had turned into the wrong subdivision twice and was shocked every time another stoplight blocked what she remembered to be a straight path home. She could do another other than watch her arrival time drift further and further than the eight o'clock they had agreed upon. 

Clutching the neck of the wine bottle, (Y/N) figured thirty minutes late was better than not showing up at all. Despite having texted her uncle when she pulled up, she still pressed the doorbell. On the other side, she heard the clattering of overgrown feet with barking following shortly after. Flipper was awake, then. 

She was stuck outside for only a minute before the knob clicked and turned. Uncle Mick pulled the door open, smiling lips and crinkled eyes the first things she saw. 

"Hi, honey," he greeted, pulling her into a hug while Flipper went crazy behind him, "You made it." 

"Hi, Uncle Mick," she smiled, feeling suddenly emotional now that she was hugging him. It had been way too long since she saw him—the man that had raised her from the age of eleven. She hugged him especially tight at the thought. "I've missed you." 

"I've missed you, too. But you're here now, and we've got dinner warming in the oven for you." His kind smile only widened when he saw her gift in hand. "And you brought wine! Did I tell you this one was my favorite?" 

(Y/N) blinked. "Since when did you have a favorite wine?" she asked, passing off the wine as she locked the door behind herself. 

Her uncle shrugged, tipping his chin up in faux-superiority. "Can't a man change, (Y/N)? Or must I always drink acetone?" 

She let out a bubbling laugh as she followed after him, petting Flipper on his shaggy head. Trailing through the living room, she could see the lighting in the dining room, the chandelier that had gone unused for most of her childhood now lit at full power. A scented candle now dotted the coffee table, along with fluffy throw pillows and a knitted blanket on the sofa. 

The entire house seemed... softened. Eased into another phase of life that included delicate edges and soft-scented air. This woman must really be something to get Uncle Mick to take down his fish of the month calendar. 

Approaching the threshold, (Y/N) braced herself to follow after her uncle. She was going to have to start the night with an apology. 

Mick started the introduction, stepping aside when he said her name as if presenting her to a ballroom instead of his fianceé. 

"Sorry, I'm late. I—" 

Her words became stuck in her throat. 

Sitting in one of the four chairs at the small table was Harry. Cloud cardigan and all. 

What the fuck was he doing here?

"You alright, kiddo?" 

Blinking back to earth, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yeah sorry," she muttered, forcing out a laugh, "I forgot what I was saying, as I was saying it." 

A round of laughter filled the room. Including Harry's. 

Making a point to avoid the end of the table that his chair sat, (Y/N) pointed her smile at the pretty, dark haired woman sitting right next to where her uncle had set himself up. 

"Sorry," she started, again, walking around the table to meet the woman halfway. "I wish I could have come around to meet you sooner. You must be Anne." 

(Y/N) had her hand outstretched to shake, only to be pulled into a warm hug. The embrace was soft and comforting, just like the effect she seemed to have on her uncle. 

"Don't worry," the woman, Anne, smiled, "Mick has told me all about your job, so I understand. Thank you for taking the time to come down and see us. It's wonderful to finally meet you." 

She had kind eyes, hazel with shatters of a familiar green. Just the reminder had a flush plucking at her cheeks, knowing who was sitting just behind her. 

"It's really nice to meet you too, Anne," (Y/N) smiled, hoping the natural turn of the conversation wasn't the one that this would take. 

Her hopes were shot down when Anne gestured behind her, her grin only widening. 

"(Y/N), this is my son, Harry. He's down visiting from work too." 

Harry. Harry was her uncle's—who was really like her father for all intents and purposes—fianceé's son. The man that would be as close to a bother as she could get as soon as this wedding happened, was the same one she had thought about going on a date with all during the drive here. 

He seemed to have the same shock running through his system as she stood from his chair. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)."

Boundaries were maintained as they shook hands. Even if she was, unfortunately, taken aback by how large his palm was compared to hers. Warm and encompassing around her fingers. 

Matching his gaze, she could see the matching panic she was sure was also written on her face. They both felt that flirty energy in the wine aisle. They had only been cut off because they had somewhere to be—which happened to be the same place. 

Her name was in his phone with a pink heart emoji. 

And now they were just a wedding short of being step-siblings. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry." 

Forcing herself to pull her hand back, (Y/N) made the self-serving choice of looking towards her uncle. Whatever had conspired between her and Harry had gone unnoticed if the beaming grin on Mick's face was anything to go by. 

"I can help with dinner," (Y/N) offered, hoping for a reprieve in the form of the quiet kitchen, "You said it was in the oven, right?" 

"Oh yes, dinner," Uncle Mick laughed, "The lasagna is in the oven. Thank you, (Y/N)." 

That was all the permission she needed before scurrying off to the kitchen. She moved on robotic limbs to the appliance, but stopped short of pulling open the door.

Instead, she leaned over the stove, hands braced on the ledge. 

What kind of tragic comedy had she found herself in?

—————

"Goodnight, kiddo. Thanks for coming tonight." 

(Y/N) hugged her uncle that much tighter. She could hear the sincerity in his voice; this was about more than a dinner she had managed to make it down for. 

"Goodnight, Uncle Mick." 

Their embrace lasted a beat longer before she unraveled herself from his hold. Over his shoulder, she could see Harry having a moment with his mother. Seeing them side by side like that, the resemblance was so clear. Even down to the set of their teeth and the cheekbones. 

Especially when they smiled at each other like that. 

"Still on for breakfast in the morning?" Mick asked, fatherly affection painting his features. 

"If you can pick me up, yes," she conditioned, batting her lashes and beaming up at him. 

"As long as you're up and ready to go, I can make that happen." 

She pulled him into another hug to show her thanks. "I'll see you in the morning. Love you." 

"Love you too, kiddo. Get to bed so you don't keep me waiting." 

Heading towards the door, (Y/N) threw a glance over her shoulder, intending to wave to her uncle one more time, only to catch Harry following in her footsteps. Her lips thinned. She knew he was on his way out too, but she had hoped she was moving faster than him. Now It would be weird to rush out ahead of him and let the door slam in his face. Especially if this was now her soon-to-be stepbrother. 

Harry's pleading eyes met hers. Begging her to wait just a second for him. She supposed, even if she wanted to avoid it, they needed to talk about this at some point. 

Now, they both were waving goodbye to their respective parents. Final declarations of how nice it was to meet one another were shared, following them out onto the chilly stoop. Silence fell over them as the door sealed behind them. 

Just the two of them now. (Y/N) and her almost-stepbrother. (Y/N) and the guy she had just short of fantasized going on a date with only hours earlier. 

His steps slowed to match hers. 

"So," he started. 

She didn't offer any words. Was now when they acknowledged the obvious flirting they shared in the liquor store? Or were they going to save that for the wedding? 

"Kind of fucked up, huh?" 

At that, (Y/N) couldn't help but to laugh. The sound was surprisingly loud, breaking into the quiet neighborhood. 

"That's exactly what I was thinking," she murmured, coming to a stop next to her car. Daring to look up at him, she caught him already looking down at her. His eyes were just as pretty now as when she saw him for the first time that night. Before she knew her adoptive dad was marrying his mom. "Did you... You didn't know before, right?" 

A pinch appeared between his brows. "No. Had no idea. The last time I was down here was two years ago, when I helped my mum move."

"That's crazy. The last time I was here was two years ago, too." 

A rueful smile touching his lips. They were both having the same thought. 

If only...

"They seem really happy together, though," (Y/N) posited, knowing they were going to have to accept the terms of their newfound relationship. 

"Really happy," Harry agreed, glancing back at her childhood home, "'S been a long time since I've seen my mum that happy." 

"Same for my uncle." (Y/N) nodded her head, her smile thin when Harry turned back towards her. Whatever she had started knitting for him this evening, now needed to be severed. "It was really nice to meet you, Harry. Thanks for everything tonight." 

Faint dimpled dented his cheeks. "It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Get back to your hotel safe." 

"You, too," she reciprocated, pulling open her car door. Harry took a step back, his hands in his pockets as his eyes followed her. "Oh," she gasped, "You should probably change my name in your phone, by the way. I think the emoji might throw some people off." 

At that, she was granted Harry's bursting laughter as she climbed into her car. She probably felt a little bit too much pride over that. 

Pulling out of her uncle's driveway and out into the street, she couldn't help but peek into her rearview. Though a part of her wanted to think Harry had his eyes following her, the other part of her was quick to send a reminder that that wasn't something she should want. Not anymore. 

While there wasn't anything serious that had conjured between them, the potential having been torn from their hands was enough to feel a little bit of loss. They hadn't even had time to mess it all up themselves. 

Now they'd never know. 

 —————

Tucked away in her cubicle, (Y/N) smiled at her phone. 

The group chat labeled Wedding Party complete with every floral emoji the keyboard had to offer was going crazy. But, she still went to the single message from Harry first. 

     I love my sister so much but I think I'm going to have to block her if she sends one more Pinterest board to my mum. This whole thing was supposed to be small and now we're looking at a gelato bar for the reception.

     There wasn't even supposed to be a reception.

She covered her mouth as if that would make the grin growing over it obsolete. She knew well what he was going through. For the first two months of this engagement, all talks of the wedding had been flippant, that the ceremony would happen when it happened. In a matter of weeks, everything had changed. There was now a joint bachelor and bachelorette party to plan. 

Harry had been her lifeline through this roller coaster. They didn't talk about the night in the wine aisle, never breaching the previous terms of their acquaintance. Instead, they had grown to be friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that had separate conversations outside of group chats. The kind that would send anything that reminded them of one another. They had inside jokes now. 

They were friends. Soon to be step siblings. 

(Though, even if it wasn't something she acknowledged, (Y/N) knew good and well there was a phantom following her any time she interacted with Harry. That phantom never let her forget that she was still attracted to him. Even if no action could be taken, she wasn't going to be able to forget him as the man in the cloud cardigan with the pretty eyes and freckled nose).

     I'm supposed to be figuring out a bachelor party and I think I would rather die than think about what my Uncle Mick would want to do on his last night as a "single man"

     I might just change my number actually and hope no one notices 

     Hahahahahaha

     And now we both get to be there for that last "single" night. Thrilling stuff! 

     You'd still let me have your number though, right?

She didn't want to admit how her cheeks warmed reading his texts. Maybe because it was something she wanted to see—though she'd never admit to as much out loud—, but she swore there was still that flirty undertone to the way he spoke to her. Like he wasn't quite over things like they were supposed to be. 

     Of course

     I'm scared you'll go crazy without it and I still need you for the actual wedding 

It was a small indulgence, telling him she needed him. While she wouldn't act like there was something astronomical that had been built between them, it was hard to ignore the fact that the more she spoke with him, it didn't exactly tamp down her feelings for him. 

     I know you do.

(Y/N) blinked at her phone screen. She could hear the words in his voice, that drawling accented voice. The way his eyes would have connected with hers had they been speaking in person. How there would have been a quirk in his lips, a reminder that this was very much a silly, lighthearted joke even if a part of her short-circuited. 

Ignoring everything else, (Y/N) typed out a lame, noncommittal response ("You wish lol") before locking her phone and placing it face down on her desk. The email in her inbox suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than they had only a few minutes prior. Even making the copies she had been putting off for the whole morning had suddenly been pushed up the to-do list. 

Anything to keep herself busy—too busy to think about Harry. 

She would be seeing him again soon because of the bachelor/rette parties that were coming up within the next month, and she needed to have her head on straight. It was embarrassing to be so distracted, caught up in someone she'd only met in person once. A total of maybe six hours had been spent together that entire weekend she had visited home, counting both the initial dinner and the brunch before the both of them were to jet back to their respective homes. Each of those hours had even been buffered by the attendance of their parents. 

And yet, here she was. 

Forcing herself out of her seat, (Y/N) made her way to the copy room. Everything was going to be okay, she reminded herself, fiddling with the blunt edge of her master copies in her hands. She was going to see Harry, be so clearly and readily reminded that she was going to be his stepsister for all intents and purposes, and every affection she held for him was going to dry up. All she needed was to meet him once more, and wipe away the liquor store meeting from her head. 

Everything was going to be fine. Perfectly fine. 

As long as she somehow figured out how to mash the idea of a fancy dinner for Anne's bachelorette party with a fishing trip for Uncle Mick's bachelor counterpart. 

—————

(Y/N) scrolled to yet another page of search results. 

If she saw any more party bus and strip club ideas for a joint bachelor/bachelorette party, she was going to scream. There was no way she was going to down shots and dance on a pole around her uncle and her soon to be stepfamily. 

There wasn't a single chance that she was the first to ever plan something like this for an older couple. Someone—one of the billions in the world—would have undoubtedly come up with an idea far before her. And yet, she was on the third page of google results, and she knew if she drifted to the fourth, she was done for. 

There had to be at least something nearby that could check the boxes for both sides of the honored couple. 

She was this close to booking reservations at a restaurant that had a claw machine for diners to pick out their "lobster" (looking at photos, it appeared to just be a handful of plastic lobster figurines based off of a cartoon). If Gemma hadn't already taken on so much with her mother, including planning out many elements of the wedding itself, (Y/N) would have just short of begged her to come up with something. But, that wasn't fair. She wanted to be a good soon-to-be sister and take something off of Gemma's plate, especially since she had apparently recently welcomed her first baby. 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) rubbed her temples. She needed to focus and make a decision. The reserved weekend was only a handful of weeks away, and she needed to get these plans finalized before it was too late. 

At her side, her phone buzzed, the vibration scaring (Y/N) out of her skin for a brief second. 

Blindly reaching, she brought her phone up, effectively blocking her laptop screen. A text message had come through. From Harry. 

     Are you busy?

She sighed, lips thinning as she debated answering. While she was busy, the idea of being distracted sounded much more fun than looking at another aquarium dining space—complete with a tab that would take her months to work off. 

    Not really why??

With that, a call came through. Also from Harry. 

(YN) clutched her phone. She'd only talked to him on the phone once, and it was brief. He'd hadn't been able to reach his mother and needed quick directions to the brunch spot he met them that first weekend. She had barely talked to him, passing along the phone to his mother in the same breath as her greeting. 

Tapping her thumb on the green circle, (Y/N) accepted the call before she could think better of herself. It was just Harry, she drilled into her head. Just Harry—a friend and nothing more. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, you," was his greeting, his accented voice flowing through the speakers in a way that almost felt offensive. How dare he answer he as if he was just as happy to hear her voice as she was for him? 

"What's going on?" she forced out, hoping it sounded a lot more casual than she felt. 

Harry let out a sigh, the sound of rustling fabric audible in the background. "Nothing jus' trying to figure out m'plans for the stag weekend. Figured I'd call you since y'have all the answers." 

His tone had been teasing, lilting through a smile. He knew she had been struggling to figure out what to plan for everyone, but she hadn't revealed just how much of a problem she was having. The last time they had even really discussed the topic was a week ago, when she felt as if she had all the time in the world to thread something together. 

Today, after looking at the calendar and the countdown to the agreed upon dates, his poking didn't feel so funny. 

"Um, yeah," she muttered, running a stressed hand down her face, "I'm figuring out everything right now, and finalizing stuff. I'll let you know for sure when I can." 

A brief pause settled between them. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, his voice decidedly gentle compared to the teasing a moment before. "Y'alright?" 

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry," she murmured, stumbling over her thoughts. "It's just been a little bit of a long week, so I'm really tired." 

She meant to finish on a breathy laugh, lighthearted even if she didn't really feel that way.  Instead, it came off as just a little bit sad. 

"Bad week? Or jus' a lot?"

"A lot," (Y/N) sighed, "But it's alright. I think once I get everything figured out for the party, I'll be fine." 

"If y'want, I can take over some things. I can make calls or set up reservations. Whatever y'need." 

A small quirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That would  be really nice, Harry," she started, resigning herself to telling the truth, "but, I actually haven't picked out anywhere or decided anything yet. It's a lot harder to plan something that has the vibe of a fishing trip, but served high-class food. The closest I've found is this place with a 'lobster' claw machine." 

(Y/N) didn't have to see him to know he blanched at the idea, his scoff evidence enough that he was on the same page as her. 

 "Yeah , that might not be what mum's looking for," Harry laughed. (Y/N) wished she could see his dimples. "I can take a look around too, though. It might help to have some more eyes."

Her lips thinned at the idea. She was supposed to be taking this on by herself; Gemma and Harry had enough on their plate, it didn't feel fair to pawn any more tasks off. 

"I don't know," she mumbled, "You and your sister are already don't so much, I don't want to—" 

"(Y/N), 's alright. 'S just a couple of google searches, 's not a big deal," Harry interrupted her, his voice gentle, "'M getting a little worried about you." 

He ended with a breath of laughter, though (Y/N) found it hard to buy that he wasn't sharing a little bit of honesty with her. 

With her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) blinked at her laptop screen once more. If she had to figure out how to reword "fancy fishing restaurant" one more time, she might explode. If anything, it would be nice to take a small break from attempting to make these decisions. 

"That would be nice, Harry. Thank you."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again, "See? I told you, y'needed me." 

(Y/N) didn't even attempt to argue.

—————

Through bleary eyes, (Y/N) caught the time on her phone. One in the morning. The phone call with Harry had just hit over the four hour mark. 

"But, yeah," Harry laughed, cutting himself off with a small yawn, "I don't plan on going to any of my school reunions. I don't think it'd go over very well." 

(Y/N) let out a peal of laughter, the noise quiet and tired. "I think you should; it would be very funny, at the least." 

"Maybe," he hummed, "If I don't get arrested." 

"For something that happened ten years ago? I don't know," she countered, singing the syllables, "We'll only know for sure if you go." 

"Then y'have to come with me. If I get in any trouble, 'm making it your problem." 

It could be the late hour making her delirious, or the fact that she wasn't able to convincingly lie to herself at the moment, but it felt like something to have Harry casually make those future plans with her. 

"I'll be there," she cemented through a sleepy smile. 

A pause settled between them, the sound of rustling sheets audible through the phone.

"I should let y'go, (Y/N). 'S later than I thought," he drawled, "I didn't mean to keep you up." 

"No, it's okay," she insisted, "This was nice. Thank you for helping me—and hanging out with me tonight." 

I missed you is what she wanted to say. Just barely was she able to choke the thought back. 

"You've got me, you know that," he promised, "But, all of the confirmations and everything should go to you. If you need anything though, you can send them to me, I don't mind." 

"Thanks, H," she hummed, letting her eyes fall to a close. "I'll talk to you soon?" 

"Of course—I'll probably start bothering you first thing in the morning." He spoke as if his first text message wasn't going to be the highlight of her day. 

"That'll be nice," she let slip, incredibly warm with the tufts of her bedding fluffed around her, "And I'll actually see you in a few weeks." 

"That'll be really nice," Harry said, something running under his tone she was too tired to examine, "'M excited, (Y/N)." 

"Me too," she yawned. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Harry drawled, tongue lingering over her name, "Sleep well" 

"Goodnight, Harry," she smiled.

There was a brief moment. A pause where neither of them hung up.

(Y/N)'s breath caught, suddenly so awake compared to just a moment ago. 

Then the call cut. 

Four hours on the phone with him, leaving with sore, smiling cheeks and drooping, sleepy eyes. 

In three weeks, she would see him again for the first time in months. Everything was going to be fine—and normal. 

—————

"To mum and Mick. Congratulations." 

Flutes of champagne were raised over a white-tableclothed table, sparkling and golden. Smiling faces were shared over the setting, blushing cheeks on Anne's face with an eye-crinkling smile on Uncle Mick's. The clinking of the glasses sounded in the quiet, reserved space before being brought to smiling lips. 

A wonderful way to end dinner. 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to meet Harry's eyes across the flute. He was already looking at her, bouncing his brows when he caught her attention.

She looked away first, cheeks warming. 

"Thank you, Gem," Anne smiled, voice sing-songing over the syllables. "I love you so much, you know." 

Gemma only smiled at her mother. That was definitely the third glass of champagne beginning to talk. "I love you too, mum. Just as much." 

Anne's eyes watered, glossing the already glazed look over her irises. "Both of you," she said, looking to her children, "The best, you are. I couldn't be luckier." 

Gemma shared a sly smile with her husband at her side as Harry opened his mouth to take on his mother's emotional reaction. Only for Anne to cut him off, turning her attention to (Y/N).

"And, you," she started, folding her hands over her heart, "I couldn't be more excited to have you in my family. Thank you for everything you've done for Mick." 

Though (Y/N) thought it was a little bit funny, the slur to Anne's words and the overly affectionate way she spoke to her, but she couldn't help but to match a bit of that emotion. It was nice to hear something so loving, and know that she would be there for her Uncle Mick when (Y/N) wasn't able to. 

"Of course," she smiled, hoping no one noticed the slight sniffle of her nose, "I can't wait to be a part of your family either. I know my Uncle Mick is very lucky to have you." 

It was then that Anne broke, letting out a stream of sobs. (Y/N) watched as her Uncle had his own soft smile on his face, amused at his bride's antics though there was a matching sheen to his eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking at the guests in attendance. 

"Tonight was very special, you guys. Thank you," he smiled, complete joy in his eyes, "I think it's time we head home." 

Gemma was quick to agree, a gentle hand on her mother's arm. "Us too," she smiled, glancing at her husband, "It's time we get back and let the sitter go home." 

When neither Harry nor (Y/N) disagreed, no one hesitated to start getting up and readying for the journey home. Jackets were donned, and eyes were wiped. While Anne was busy with her children,  her hushed voice emotional, Uncle Mick came right to (Y/N).

"Thanks, kiddo. Really," he muttered, "This was perfect—and I doubt it was easy." He cast his gaze through the bow windows encompassing this private room.

Outside, the shining lake rippled under the moonlight, dock rocking in the waves. The elegance Anne had requested came in the crown molding and clean decor, while Mick's requests came through in the dock outside and the fresh seafood from the kitchen. How (Y/N) had overlooked this place through her searches, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't sure she would have been able to do this without Harry. 

"Harry helped a lot," (Y/N) specified, beaming up at Mick, "But I'm happy you liked it. I'm happy you're happy."

Seeing the way he looked over his shoulder at his bride-to-be, (Y/N)'s heart almost burst. How truly lucky were they. The perfect movie they made. 

"Love you, kiddo," Uncle Mick murmured, wrapping her in a hug, "You going back to the hotel?" 

"Probably," she nodded, "We're still looking for your suit tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah," her uncle sighed, not entirely excited at the idea of the outfit, but willing to do what it took to make his soon-to-be wife happy. "I'll pick you up, okay?" 

"Thank you," she smiled, giving him one more hug. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," he smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before departing. 

Anne was passed from her daughter to her almost-husband, happily falling into his arms with loose limbs. She gave a noncommittal wave to the group following after her.

Gemma was the next to depart, hugging (Y/N) and sharing her thanks for planning this part of the evening. Harry didn't attempt to take any of the credit, only watching quietly until it was his turn to bid goodnight to his sister and brother-in-law. 

Out in the parking lot, the pavement bathed in moonlight, (Y/N) rubbed at her thinly covered arms. 

Just she and Harry were left. 

"Tonight turned out really well," Harry commented, a dimpled smile on his face, "Good job, (Y/N)." 

She shook her head. "I just confirmed everything, and you know that. Thank you for getting this all taken care of." 

Harry shrugged, shoulders lifting though he kept his eyes trained on her. It had been like this for most of the night; his undivided attention had clung to her like a second skin. He came back to her every time. The end of every conversation was punctuated by his look to her face, gauging her reaction. It was thrilling, though the thrill was tempered from the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to keen under his attention like that.

Looking out towards the water that had set the scene for the evening, (Y/N) could feel his eyes on her. She felt a bit crazy, her skin prickling under his attention. There was a large part of her that dreaded the fact that she had to head back to her hotel alone now. They'd barely had time to speak to one another as a group, let alone on their own. She doubted they would have a chance like this again for the rest of the weekend. 

Harry was her family now. Maybe some extra time with him was all she needed to officially understand that. Overwrite those previous flirty memories of him with something much more appropriate. 

That was why she wanted to keep the night going. That was why she opened her mouth, question on the tip of her tongue. 

"Did you..." (Y/N) started, carefully picking her words as she kept her gaze out on the lake, "Are you tired?" 

She could cringe at the sound of her voice tripping over her question.  

"Not really," he drawled, smile audible in his voice, "Are you?" 

"Not really," she repeated, daring to match his gaze. Her skin warmed when she caught him with his eyes already engaged on her. With the moon above draining the world of color around them, his eyes somehow still acted as a beacon, the green rippling like the lake. "Do you want to get a drink, or something?" 

His dimples were cast in shadow, denting his cheeks as his grin grew. "I think I saw a bar not too far from here when I booked this, if y'don't mind walking." 

While her dress didn't exactly agree with the weather, the chilly breeze kicking up the hem and casting goosebumps over her skin, there wasn't a single part of her that could find a reason to decline. 

"Lead the way." 

—————

"After you." 

Harry opened the door with a flourish, bending at the waist as he gestured (Y/N) through the doorway. It was entirely too dramatic, especially for the kind of bar he had taken her to. A peal of laughter left her lips.

The inside of the bar was much warmer than the chilly air outside, enough so that even with the thin jacket on her arms, (Y/N) started to sweat. After Harry entered behind her, the door closed, sealing behind them. 

The nautical bar was a drastic change to the restaurant they had just left. 

Fishing nets were strewn over the ceiling, filled with weather torn life-preservers, various starfish, oysters and clam shells. Sparkling pearls were dotted throughout. The walls were decorated with different portraits depicting sea-faring legends and the glorious ships they sailed. Creaky floorboards sounded under their feet, the lumber matching that that boarded up the walls and made the majority of the round tables of the bar. The bartop itself was a candy apple-red, sleek and only a little scuffed. The mirrored back wall of the bar was lined with liquor, reflected int the low light of the establishment, only a single bartender fixing drinks for people (Y/N) had no doubt were a mix of regulars, and people like she and Harry who were just looking for a drink after touring through the area. 

When a gentle hand landed on her back, ushering her forward, (Y/N) stiffened. Blinking behind her, she knew the touch came from Harry, though it still had her throat running dry just to see that it was, in fact, him looking out for her.

He cast his eyes around them as they slowly approached the bar, the whining floorboards louder than his voice, "'S a little different than the pictures online." 

"Yeah?" she smiled, following his eyes to the portrait of a fishing captain with a sopping beard and hardened eyes. Truthfully, (Y/N) worried that if she looked away and then glanced back at the painting, a skeleton or ghoul would be in his place. "I can't believe that." 

Harry let out a breathy laugh at her joke. Stepping to the bar, he didn't build upon their teasing, instead, pulling one of the vinyl stools out for (Y/N) to sit. Taking the proffered seat, she pretended to study the liquor bottles behind the bar instead of just how close Harry was now that he took the spot at her side. Especially when he settled in with his legs spreading, his knee touching hers. 

 "You kno—" 

"What can I get you two?" 

The gruff voice of the bartender cut Harry off unceremoniously, his tired eyes flicking between the two of them impatiently. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry murmured, letting her go first as if she was going to be able to concentrate when she heard the syllables of her name wrapped in his voice. 

"Um," she stumbled, looking at the bottles behind the barkeep as if it were a menu, "A—uh—a cosmo? Or just a vodka cranberry? Something like that." 

The bartender bounced his brows as he grunted. He must not have liked (Y/N)'s answer as much as she didn't. Harry's order went much smoother, even if he did have to wipe the sly smile off of his lips as he asked for a whiskey, neat. 

As soon as the man who could have easily been the subject of one of the paintings left them be as he started their drinks, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands. "Oh my god," she quietly groaned. 

Harry nudged her with his shoulder, ducking his head to conspire with her though she didn't really feel like he was on her side given the way he had to bite back his amusement. "It wasn't that bad." 

"Yes it was," she laughed, "I thought he was going to ID me and think it was a fake." 

He shrugged. "We've got time." 

(Y/N) let out a laugh, feeling a little less embarrassed as she turned to look at him, cheek cushioned by her hand. It was quite the feeling, to know that they really did have time. At least for tonight (after their parents joint bachelor/rette parties, of course). Then, she would come to her senses, and live the rest of her life with Harry as her legal sibling. 

"Right. We've got time." 

—————

"Harryyy."

"Yes?" 

"Harryyy."

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"Harryyy—" 

Putting his hand out, Harry stopped her from spinning on her stool. (Y/N)'s singsong voice stopped right in its tracks when she saw him, warmth creeping up her neck, though she doubted it was from the alcohol. Even if there was a lot of that in her system. 

"What, (Y/N)?" he laughed, craning his neck as he crowded around her. 

"Do you think they'd let me do karaoke, even if there isn't a stage?" 

Another bright laugh left Harry's lips at her words. "I think there might be a little more missing than jus' the stage, but 'm sure we can work something out. You've got to ask first, though." 

Giving a slight incline of his head, (Y/N) followed to see him gesturing to the bartender. The one person in the whole room she was sure would immediately shoot down her idea. As if it wasn't a fun one. 

"H, you know he's going to say no." 

"I don't know," Harry crooned, "Y'should probably ask. He might like karaoke, too." 

A light could have pinged over her head. He really could like karaoke, he's just shy about it. It would only take a little bit of convincing, maybe even a song or two, and he'd be so on board. Should she start with a ballad or a—

(Y/N) felt someone crowd around her, static running down her back. Harry looked over her head, lips thinning. 

"Hey stranger." 

Blanching at the greeting, (Y/N) whipped her head around. Behind her was a vaguely familiar face. She couldn't place the name, but she knew this man. Even if he was a bit harder to recognize out of uniform.

And acting way more familiar than a waiter should. 

"Hi," (Y/N) answered with an owlish blink. 

The man paused, as if waiting for something more to come out of her mouth. Nothing did. 

He let out an awkward laugh, thrown off by her lack of response. "Wedding things over for the night?" 

Behind her, she could hear Harry shifting over his seat. Just that much closer to her, his knee brushing against hers. 

"For tonight, yeah," he answered for her, "Jus' getting a couple of drinks before going back home." 

The man hummed, nodding his head. He didn't pay much attention to Harry, only looking at him for as long as it took him to finish his words before he was stitching his eyes back to (Y/N). 

"You should've told me you were looking to go out tonight. I could have shown you the good spots." 

It was a bit childish the way she pouted at him. "This place is good," she countered. 

She wasn't going to let him speak bad about this place. Harry picked it and she was having fun. 

"Well yeah, but," he started, "There's a couple of other places that look a little more your speed."

"I'm having fun here," she insisted, reaching blindly back towards Harry, "He picked it. I like it." 

It was odd the way he looked at her. The way he followed her hand as she found his leg. He looked through her, searching for something more. 

"Aren't you..." he started voice trailing off before Harry stepped in. 

"I think we're alright for now, man," Harry said, "I think we're gonna head home soon, anyway." 

Whatever this man had been looking for before had been pushed to the wayside. Something a little too fast flash through his eyes for her to decipher, though the brown of his irises lacked some of the flirty warmth from before.

He decidedly ignored Harry, looking towards (Y/N) as if Harry hadn't spoken at all. 

"Let me buy you a drink at least," he charmed, dipping his head until he was level with her. "I can't lie, I was hoping that dinner wasn't the only time I'd see you." 

(Y/N) blinked. She opened her mouth to say something disjointed and a little too drunk back, only for Harry to pipe up.

"I think we're alright; the tip we left earlier should have been enough. Thanks." 

His hand landed gently upon her own where it sat on the cuff of his knee, warming her skin.

That searching look was back on the man's face, gaze locked on their hands. 

"I thought... Isn't she your sister?" the man blanched, scoffing. 

"Actually," (Y/N) hiccuped, "I'm his stepsister. But, not even that, if you want to get specific. His mom is marrying my uncle, so it's, like, legally even less than that." 

(Y/N)'s bubbling didn't make much sense, but it didn't appear that this man was listening anyway. He only looked towards Harry, as if he was the one that was attempting to argue these details. A frown tipped her lips.  

"We're alright, mate." 

The man paused for a moment. Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, "Weird," before stalking away. 

Her brows knitted together as she watched him leave to haunt a different corner of the bar, a group of people she hadn't noticed before welcoming him in with conspiratorial glances and whispered voices. 

"Sorry," Harry muttered behind her, causing her to whirl on the stool to face him, "I should have asked if you..." 

She canted her head at him. She was too drunk for things to not be spelled out. "What?" 

He let out a short laugh, dropping his gaze from hers as he knuckled at his nose. "I... Did y'want to talk to him? I didn't mean to get involved if y'were..." 

"No," (Y/N) shook her head, "He was being annoying. Was he from the restaurant?" 

There was a line holding Harry's shoulders that seemingly was cut loose then, dropping the lines of his body into something much more relaxed. "He was, yeah. Can't remember his name, though." 

"Me neither!" she blurted, reaching towards him with her hands landing on his shoulders, "I thought I was just really drunk, so that's nice to—"

As if on command, she suddenly stumbled from her stool, falling into him with a gasp. Harry didn't hesitate before his hands landed on her waist, steadying her with a tight grip. Her heart bounced around her chest as she came down from. Looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, she saw him already watching her, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Y'alright?" he asked, a pinch between his brows. 

"Yeah, sorry," she answered, simply, melting into him despite being more than capable of settling into her own spot once more. He was too comfortable, too warm, too everything she had been thinking about for months now to move on. And she was too tipsy to know better. "Thanks for catching me." 

With her cheek pressed against his chest, Harry's hold on her shifted until he had his arm around her middle. The other waved down the bartender. 

"I think 's time we get y'home, love." 

"No," she whined, "We just got here." 

The laugh he let out rumbled underneath her cheek, warming her further from the sound alone. "Maybe a few hours ago. You've got a big day tomorrow anyway, y'need to sleep." 

"Maybe," she sighed, eyes fluttering to a close as Harry handled their tab. "Are you coming tomorrow? For the suits?" 

"No," he murmured distractedly, "'M going home tomorrow, remember?"

"But you just got here," she argued, suddenly offended at the idea of airports and planes and flight times. What was the point of any of that if that meant Harry would be miles and miles away from her again? 

"I know," he smiled, standing from his spot with a guiding hand on her back, "But we'll see each other again soon, okay? I'll make sure of it." 

She didn't doubt his promise. If Harry wanted to see her, he would make it happen. 

(Y/N) could only stare at him with stars in her eyes, warmth simmering under her skin. 

They had time, she reminded herself. Even if just tonight. 

—————

"C'mon, (Y/N). Gotta help me, love." 

"Okay." 

"Love, you've gotta stand up on your own for a second, 'kay? Jus' until I get the door open, then I can help y'again." 

"Okay." 

"(Y/N)." 

"Hm?" 

Harry sighed, the curve of his lips audible. Looping his arm tightly around her waist, he continued attempting to get the keycard to her hotel room to work, all while she clung to him, almost sliding down his body now that he wasn't devoting all of his attention to steadying her. 

She was too tired. How could he expect her to stand up on her own when she was so tired she almost fell asleep on the way here? It was unrealistic. Especially when he was offering his body as her crutch; he was warm like a blanket, firm yet forgiving at the same time. The perfect kind of pillow. 

A faint technological beep came from behind her. Harry fiddled around for a moment before he was clutching her again. 

"C'mon," he murmured through an amused smile, guiding her inside though she didn't bother to turn around and face forward with her steps. Instead, she let Harry do the heavy lifting, getting her through the threshold and letting the lumbering door click to a close behind them. 

Her hotel room was small and rudimentally furnished, stiff carpet under their feet. When she had checked in, she hadn't thought much of the space. Now, through bleary eyes with Harry holding her so carefully, it was the prettiest, coziest, most comforting place she'd ever come to spend the night in. 

Her clothing was still strewn out of her opened suitcase, the lamp on the side of her bed turned on with the television streaming the default channel for the hotel. A normal, sober part of herself would have felt a bit embarrassed at the sight of her panties hanging out of her luggage, knowing Harry would no doubt spot it. But, she wasn't normal or sober. She was drunk and clinging to Harry like a lifeline. 

"There we go," Harry mumbled, depositing her on the edge of her bed. He stood before her, running a hand through his hair. "Y'gonna be alright?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, looking up at him with what she was sure were hearts in her eyes, "Are you?" 

Harry laughed. His smile, dimples and all, was more intoxicating than any mixed drink could hope to be. "I think I'll be alright, (Y/N)." 

She canted her head as she looked up at him, taking in the rumpled collar of his white shirt, now sporting a smudge of her pink lipstick. "Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" 

His lips thinned as he gazed down at her. "Yeah. I do." 

Her lips puffed into a pout, wandering hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. "When am I going to see you again, then?"

"I don't know," he answered, lips into a lopsided smile, "Before the wedding, hopefully?" 

"Just hopefully?" she whined, using her grip on his shirt to tug him down until he was forced to flop onto the mattress at her side. "I thought we'd see each other more when we found out... everything." 

Harry only let out a heavy sigh. His eyes glanced around her face, searching through the planes of her features. "I know." 

(Y/N) laid back on her bed, suddenly hit with a weight that she had avoided thinking about for the last few hours. She could feel Harry's eyes following her.

"I don't want to be mean," she said, speaking quietly in the empty of the hotel room, "But it kind of sucks, right?" 

A beat passed. 

"What do y'mean?" His voice was strained. She didn't need to look at him to know that he knew what she meant. 

"Like," she started, matching his gaze, "You know. Everything. I'm happy for them, but... We get along so well, you know? At least I think we do." 

A small quirk tugged at his lips. A sad curl. "We do, don't we?" 

"I think we would have had a lot of fun," she smiled, biting back a yawn. 

"Aren't we already?" he asked, falling back to lay beside her. 

This close, (Y/N) was able to see the details that had made her heart race all those months ago. The shatters of green in his irises. The sprinkle of freckles along his nose. The scar on his chin. The uneven stubble shadowing his cheeks. 

"Yeah," she exhaled, tone dreamy. She reached for him, her fingers grazing over the warmth of his cheek. "I just—I thought, when we met...I thought it would be different for us." 

Harry didn't say anything. His eyes fluttered closed as she touched his face, fingertips grazing over the lines of his features. Touching his cupid's bow had her heart hammering in her chest.

"Didn't you?" 

When Harry blinked his eyes open, he matched her gaze unabashedly. "I did." 

Reaching up to grab her hand, he laced their fingers together and pulled the bundled limbs to his chest. "But, we're alright like this, don't y'think?" he murmured, that sad smile back on his face, "At least we never had a chance to mess anything up." 

She knew he was attempting to spin her thoughts into something hopeful. That they would be happy and partners in crime together like this for the rest of their lives. And it would be okay. There would never be a need or even a thought for anything more. 

But, all that stood out to her was that they never had a chance. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth, a well of emotion crashing behind her ribs. "We never had a chance." 

"Oh, (Y/N)," he crooned, collecting her in his arms until her cheek was cushioned in his neck and his arms were a comforting cage around her waist. 

She melted into him, reveling in the warmth of his hold and the blocks of muscle making up his body. There was so much softness to him, with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. So much she could have gotten to know, she thought. There were always going to be parts of him that she wouldn't know.

"I miss you already," she whispered. 

"You know I've got you, love. 'M always here." 

"Not in the way I want." 

It was bravery in the form of alcohol and the lack of eyes on her face that made it so easy for the words to slip out. Though it didn't feel so right when his hands on her back paused. 

It felt even worse when he started disentangling himself from her hold, the phantom of his arms lingering around him. He slowed when he caught her eye, his own a bit sad to match the own on his lips. 

"I know," he whispered, "Me too, (Y/N). But, we're going to be alright. Like this, we're going to be okay." 

She didn't stop him when he left her hotel room, the door clicking behind him. He will be on a flight tomorrow, leaving her once more.

Hopefully, he had said, that they would see one another before the wedding. Though, in the silence of the suite, (Y/N) didn't have to be sober to know she had been a mistake, speaking so blatantly. The hope he had shared that they would see each other again before the wedding was no doubt diminished. 

Blinking up at the texture of the ceiling, she sighed. 

What the fuck had she done?

—————

"My uncle said he can pick me up from the airport, so that should be fine." 

"Good, good," Gemma mumbled, "And you're staying with me and my mum or did you want your own space for the week?" 

"I mean," (Y/N) mused, "I was going to leave it up to you guys. I can get a room somewhere if you want family time, or whatever you want." 

"Well, you are family now, (Y/N). You're more than welcome to stay with us. I know my mum would enjoy getting to spend time with you." 

(Y/N) wanted so badly to glow at the thought of being welcomed into a family like the Styles'. She had wished for years that she would somehow find out she had a long-lost sister or any sibling at all to spend her days with. 

Instead, she was grateful this was only a phone call, so Gemma didn't catch the way her lips tightened at the idea of being considered family to someone she had attempted to kiss the night of her uncle's bachelor dinner. 

And been promptly rejected by, of course. 

But, she was over all of that, she reminded herself. Just like Harry was. 

"I think that would be a lot of fun, Gemma. Thank you," she accepted in a way she hoped was gracious. 

"Mum's going to be so excited to hear that," Gemma bubbled, "That works out perfect, too, since I think Harry and Michel are going to stay with your uncle for the week. Keep up the whole tradition thing, everyone all separate." 

(Y/N)'s lips pinched that much more at the mention of his name. She could still feel the way the emptiness of her hotel room settled over her when he had left. Nothing was more sobering than that, she found.

"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, "It's cute."

Gemma let out a bubbly laugh, "Exactly. Okay, so I'll get with mum and figure out all of the little things we still need to do before the wedding, and I'll let you know as soon as I know!"

"So exciting! I can't wait." There was a part that really was very excited and was looking forward to seeing her Uncle Mick get married, eager for him to be happy again after experiencing so much grief the years prior. There was another large part of her that could wait a little longer; wait a few more months, or even a year before she saw Harry again. At least long enough for her to have forgotten that night at the bar, and have a new boyfriend. 

Gemma chattered a bit more, thinking out loud as she ticked things off her list. (Y/N) was fine being her sounding board, nodding and humming where needed before sharing a quick goodbye. 

Locking her phone, (Y/N) was left in the quiet of her apartment. It was a little too close to the silence at the hotel room, the experience at the forefront of her mind. 

Pursing her lips, she gripped the edge of her countertop. She was going to see Harry again, in just a couple of weeks. 

Should she text him? Attempt to clear the air before even seeing him? 

No, it was bad enough that she had scared him off, she couldn't be the one to reach out first. Months after, even. If he wanted to talk to her, he would have by now—even if only to clear the air. 

It was times like this that she wished she had siblings. If she had a brother or a sister, she wouldn't be walking into this whole thing by herself. Despite her Uncle being there, his wedding wasn't exactly the setting to let him know that she'd attempted to go out with his new wife's son—the one that would be her stepbrother for all intents and purposes.

Legally, though, she corrected herself. Stepcousins.

(Y/N) sighed. That still didn't sound very good, especially not when she usually just considered her uncle her dad, no matter what she called him. 

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. (Y/N) flinched back at the noise before reaching for the device. 

On the screen she had a single notification. A text message from a friend. 

Mitchell Row-Lund

     How was the phone call? Do you have to room with that guy? 

Staring at the message thread, an idea came to mind. It wasn't a good one. (Y/N) could even field an argument about how it is actually a stupid idea. But it was an idea, nonetheless.

Gemma did say she still had a plus one available. And, it wasn't like Mitch had anything going on, she knew that for a fact.

Plus, he knew some of what was going on with Harry, sans many details, but enough to understand why it was a very big deal that she couldn't go into this alone. Uncle Mick would enjoy seeing him too. 

Ignoring the text, (Y/N) called Mitch's contact instead. It only took a couple of rings before he picked up. 

"Hello?" 

"Mitch, are you busy in, like, three weeks?" 

"(Y/N)..." 

—————

"Are you sure you girls don't need help with anything?" 

Gemma whipped around from the stove where she was spreading the different layers to the lasagna. She gave her mother a glare. 

"Mum," she reprimanded, "We're fine. You're supposed to be relaxing." 

"I know, I know," she sighed, "But, I don't mind helping. I can—" 

"No," Gemma cut her off, abandoning her post at the stove to escort her mother back to the glass of chardonnay waiting for her in the living room. "Your only job is to answer the door when the boys get here, and watch your show." 

Anne hmphed, casting a playful roll of her eyes only where (Y/N) could see. A huff of laughter left her lips as she watched the mother-daughter duo argue before Anne relented to actually being taken care of for the night. It was sweet, the kind of banter and familiarity they had between one another. It reminded (Y/N) of the relationship she had with her aunt. It was nice to know that her Uncle was marrying into a family like this. 

"When will she learn?" Gemma joked when she reentered the kitchen, casting a very familiar roll of her eyes towards (Y/N). "It's like pulling teeth to get her to relax." 

"She's too sweet for her own good," (Y/N) said, continuing the chopping of the vegetables for the side salad. 

"Her biggest flaw," Gemma sighed, shaking her head. 

"I can hear you!" 

Anne's shout from the living room drew laughter from both of them. 

"Then what did I say?" Gemma shot back, giving (Y/N) a look like watch this.

A pause. 

"I don't know, but I know you're whispering!" 

Gemma lifted her brows like see. It was enough to pull another peal of laughter from her. It was already shaping up to be quite the night. The last one before the wedding, before Mitch would be in town and the first time she would be forced to speak in a confined room with Harry since arriving. 

She had been lucky enough to avoid being alone with him, the activities and rooms having been too busy to catch more than a single glance of him before rushing through. It was the nice part about Anne and Uncle Mick wanting to uphold a bit of tradition, the bridal party and groomsmen being separated as much as possible during this last week. 

(As far as (Y/N) remembered, she thought it was only the night before the ceremony where this distance mattered. She wasn't going to correct anyone, though).

But, tonight had come and her sanctuary was on a timer.

In Anne's cozy dining room, there was nowhere to hide from Harry. Especially not when this evening was considered a family dinner. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as she kept her eyes on her hands, attempting to focus on the strokes of the knife and not anything else. Especially not the time. 

That did seem to work against her, though, when the knock on the door took her by surprise. She hadn't had time to brace herself, school herself into someone who didn't care about whatever happened tonight. 

Her throat bobbed when she heard the sound of Anne's front door opening, a familiar set of voices sounding from the stoop. 

Gemma practically beamed as she slid the pan of lasagna into the oven before rushing out to meet her husband, who also had her daughter on his hip. (Y/N) lingered back, listening to the sounds of the stitched together family. 

This time tomorrow, her uncle would be married and she would have two new siblings. One of them being the man she could hear right now cooing to his niece. 

Wiping down the knife and placing it off to the side, (YN) ran a stressed hand through her hair. Seeing her uncle would make her feel better, she thought. She'd start there. 

"Hey kid," her uncle murmured when he caught sight of her. His creased eyes lit up as she stepped into his hug. "How are you?" 

"I'm good," she smiled, making sure her eyes stayed stitched on his face with not even a peek over his shoulder, "How are you, though? Tomorrow's the day." 

(Y/N) could see light practically dancing through his eyes when he cast his own gaze behind himself, where the cooing of a baby and her fawning audience could be heard. "Excited. Really excited." 

"Good, good," (Y/N) smiled, suddenly feeling a bit choked up. She wondered if this was how he was going to feel when she had her own wedding (fingers crossed, anyway. She needed to find a partner first before considering a wedding.)

"The lasagna has a few more minutes in the oven, but (Y/N)'s salad is almost done. Harry, you can set the table." 

Perking up at the sound of her name, (Y/N) regretted it as soon as she heard Harry's only a moment later. Gemma was playing the role of gracious hostess, though it didn't appear she could turn down the opportunity of bossing her little brother around. 

Though, it didn't seem like he minded much at all. Harry only gave a beaming grin to his niece before poking at her stomach and making his way towards the dining room.

For the first time since walking through the door, their eyes met. 

(Y/N) felt her throat run dry. The last time she saw those shatters of green, the intensity of his gaze turned in her direction, he had been telling her that there wasn't any room for what she wanted with him. That they were going to be okay—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

All after she had so clumsily fallen all over him, even attempting to kiss him.

Harry only cracked a small, polite smile. Not a single dimple or crease on his freckled nose appeared. 

"You made a salad tonight?" Uncle Mick asked her, ripping her back to reality, "And you still have all your fingers?"

Turning to face him, (Y/N) plastered a smile on her face, playing into his small joke. "Barely. Gemma had to sew my pinky back on, but I think it should be better by tomorrow." 

Her uncle let out a boisterous laugh at her jest, none the wiser to whatever had passed between her and Harry only a breath before. 

This was going to be a long dinner.

—————

"Dinner was wonderful, ladies. Thank you." 

Uncle Mick handed out praises to the women at the table, though Anne was quick to shrug it off. 

"It was all the two girls," she insisted, "I was quarantined to wine-and-couch duties." 

(Y/N) didn't have to peek under the table to know that her uncle had squeezed his bride's hand. All she needed to see was the affection that painted his gaze as he looked at her. "Well deserved," he muttered to her before looking to where (Y/N) and Gemma were sitting side-by-side, "Thank you two, then. Everything has been amazing." 

Gemma gave a similar reaction to her mother, shrugging it off with a shy smile on her face. "Of course. It's the least we could do for the happy couple, right?" 

She gave a look to (Y/N) the shadow of dimples in her cheeks. Too much like Harry, (Y/N) thought. She still made sure to nod and smile along. 

"I'm happy everyone liked it," (Y/N) interjected, hoping she sounded more present than she really felt. Especially when she could feel eyes on her—eyes she had been pointedly avoiding all throughout the meal. 

Anne stood up, beginning to collect dishes from the mats around the table. "I can start cleaning up, and—" 

"Mum, no. I thought Gemma told you that you're not supposed to be doing any hard work tonight." 

Harry's clear voice had (Y/N) blinking, her spine stiffening as she kept her eyes on her soon-to-be aunt. 

She scoffed at his words. "Doing the dishes in my own home is far from hard work, Harry. You kids—" 

"Anne," Uncle Mick piped up, a gentle hand landing on her arm, "Let them take care of this. There's still some time before I think we call it a night, and there's wine still in the bottle." 

(Y/N) watched as Anne's eyes softened, features flourishing into a gentle smile. 

"Oh alright," she relented, "Just for tonight. And, maybe tomorrow." 

That was (Y/N)'s cue to begin collecting the dishes herself. Gemma had done the hard work by putting together the main part of the meal, and deserved a moment with her child and husband. Besides, the quiet of the kitchen and task of taking care of the dishes was what she needed after being on edge during dinner. 

"I've got it, then," she offered, beaming a smile to her Uncle, "You guys go relax for a little while." 

Arms laden with china and silverware, (Y/N) took to the kitchen while the rest of the family moved onto the other room. A heavy breath left her lips. 

She fixed her eyes to the faucet as the sink filled with warm water, soap bubbles forming on the surface. 

Truthfully, she knew there wasn't any reason to be so nervous, so stiff, all night. It wasn't like Harry was going to speak about that night out in the open—if he wanted his family to know, he'd had months to expose the facts before now. But, he hadn't. 

It was a bit pathetic to admit given the fact they had never even so much as kissed, but seeing him felt a lot like running into an ex. Embarrassing, seeing as he had seen her more vulnerable than she felt comfortable showing. Nerve-wracking, as she wasn't sure what kind of reaction she was going to get from him. And a bit heartbreaking; it was hard to see him knowing there was such a definitive line in the sand. 

As if there wasn't always one there, (Y/N) reminded herself. The second they made it to her uncle's house that night, there was always goin to be a barrier between them. 

Flicking off the faucet, she got to work cleaning off the dishes. From the living room, she could hear quiet coos from a sleepy baby, and slight laughter amongst a family sharing memories. 

That was enough to have the line holding her shoulders taut to give. A family. Everything her uncle deserved. 

"Want help?" 

(Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of the deep, accented voice suddenly joining her in the space.

 Whipping her head around, she saw Harry lingering in the threshold of the entrance to the kitchen. He had a short smile on his lips, the ghost of dimples in his cheeks. 

Not a real smile. Something polite to be offered to someone he didn't really care to be talking to. 

"No, I'm alright,"(Y/N) answered, just as tight. "Thanks, though." 

"Are y'sure?" he pressed, taking a cautious step inside the barrier of the tiles, "I could dry while y'wash. It'll cut the time in half, or something like that." 

She let out a huff of laughter at his attempt to lighten the mood. She was sure she wasn't the only one feeling a touch of the tension that had gathered. 

She figured she couldn't really continue to avoid him forever. 

"If you really want to," she relented, letting a genuine, though small, smile curl her lips. 

Harry took her words as the invitation needed, crossing the room to join her at the sink. The damp dishes had begun to accumulate on the towel she had laid out at her side. He moved with familiarity through his childhood home, finding another dish towel before pushing up the sleeves of his warm brown sweater. 

Just like the first time she had met him, (Y/N) couldn't help but trace her eyes over the cross tattooed on his hand. Seeing the sleeves of his shirt pushed up, she got a view of what she remembered wondering hid between that cloud-cardigan those months ago. 

A bare-chested mermaid. A nightmarish beetle. A collection of tiny sketches around an anchor at his wrist. 

"So," he started, wiping off the first dish in the pile, "I've barely gotten a chance to talk to y'since we've got here. How have y'been?"

She nodded absently, swiftly turning her gaze to the soapy basin. "I've been alright. Just busy getting the final details figured out with your mom and sister. How about you?" 

"Same," he murmured, "'S all gone by so fast. I can't believe 's already tomorrow. I feel like we were jus' meeting for the first time." 

He meant for the comment to be something lighthearted. They could bond over the passage of time, right? It was easy to nod her head and laugh, tell him that yes, everything had gone by so fast. But she was excited, nonetheless. That his mother was a wonderful person and she couldn't wait to welcome her into their small family. 

Instead, (Y/N) was only able to manage a small smile. 

"Yeah. Crazy." 

Crazy that it really had only been months since she met Harry while perusing wine for her uncle, thinking he was just a handsome stranger. Someone she could see herself going on a date with. 

Now, he was going to be as good as her stepbrother. The revelation left a sour taste in her mouth. 

A beat passed. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, one of his rings clinking against the plate in his hand, "If y'want to talk about—"

She shook her head. She didn't need to revisit that night. Especially not right now, while washing his mother's dishes in her sink. 

"I don't," she insisted, "Sorry if I'm being weird. I just... I was worried I had scared you off or something, since we haven't talked. But, I'm fine, really." 

"You didn't. Scare me off, I mean," Harry answered, the words coming out in a rush as if a reflex. The pile of damp dishes were forgotten for the moment as he turned his attention to her. "I jus' wanted sure if y'wanted to talk to me after... everything."

"Don't worry about it," she answered, sidestepping just how much she wanted to hear anything from him in the time that had passed since the night at the bar. That she wanted to know if he still even tolerated her. "Everything got a little complicated, so it's probably best we didn't—don't. You know?" 

Harry's expression seemed to solidify at her words. Unmoving, unchanging, though something seemed to leave from his eyes. 

"Yeah," he agreed, a single nod of his head. He waved the cloth in her direction, nonchalant. "We've got a while to figure everything out as long as tomorrow goes well, right?" 

"Right," (Y/N) laughed, a little less rigid. While it wasn't the outcome she may have wanted (that was one where he came in on a flying steed, hearts in his eyes, and unwavering conviction in his feelings for her. Or at least trying it out with her), it was the best outcome she could have predicted. 

They finished the dishes in silence.

—————

(Y/N) clapped, tears in her eyes as she watched her uncle plant a kiss on his blushing bride. The white of her gauzy dress made Anne's skin glow that much brighter, sweet pink and a warm bronze. 

They were now man and wife as the officiant announced, allowing them on their way. 

Falling back into her role as dutiful bridesmaid, she followed after Gemma as the procession to the reception began. Glancing at Mitch, she caught him biting back a smile. She knew he would have something to say about her sobbing two seconds into the ceremony. 

Getting out of the chilly garden and into the reception venue was a needed transition. (Y/N) hadn't even realized her fingers were turning to icicles until the heat from the hall wrapped around her. 

It was quiet in the space. Only a select few of the venue staff milling about as they made the finishing touches on the reception space, and a newly knitted family were present. Much like herself, Gemma had tiny tears in her eyes as she reached for her daughter from her husband's hip. Harry had his mother wrapped up in a long hug.

It was her uncle that brought her attention away from the embrace. He murmured something to her, the words a bit garbled through his thick throat before he had her in his arms. 

(Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was reciprocating the hold. She tucked herself against his chest, feeling just as safe as the day he had told her that she was going to be taken care of now that he was there. The memory only made her snuggle that much closer to him. 

"Congratulations, dad," she whispered, choking up hearing the title she only rarely used. She knew it had the same effect on him when he clutched her tighter, a shuddering breath wracking his chest. 

"Thanks for being here, kiddo. Love you." 

"Love you, too." 

All too soon, her uncle was whisked away to take photos with his bride, the photographer eager to capture the moments with that blissful glow on their faces. Family shots had been taken prior to the ceremony, when everyone's makeup and hair were in perfect condition, leaving (Y/N) a moment alone for the first time that day. 

It wasn't until she was putting on her false lashes that she had heard Harry had brought a date. She knew that there was no reason to have any kind of reaction to that revelation, especially since she had also invited Mitch. And yet, there was still that sour, churning feeling in her stomach.

While it wasn't a thought she nurtured or had the guts to admit, there had been a lingering hope in her that maybe, with everything twisted up and complicated, that there could be something worked out. That Harry was so unhappy with the distance as she was. 

But, he had brought a date. Someone serious enough to invite to a family wedding, though not serious enough to mention to her when they were washing the dishes the night before. 

That was fine. He could do whatever he wanted, just as (Y/N) was doing. 

And neither of them were going to be heartbroken. Least of all (Y/N).

—————

"Are you sure that's his date?" 

(Y/N) only grumbled through her spoonful of gelato. That counted as the third time Mitch had questioned Harry's choice of plus one. And the third time (Y/N) thought she made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested in speaking on the details of the coupling. It was bad enough explaining to everyone that Mitch was just a friend instead of a boyfriend, he didn't also have to rub it in that Harry had brought a real date. 

"(Y/N), don't get mad at me," Mitch warned, casting his eyes over her head towards the dance floor, "I'm just asking. Because he's barely talked to her all night." 

"Well, that's rude of him, then," (Y/N) cemented, taking another bite of her birthday cake gelato. This dessert had been Gemma's idea—about the same cost as a cake, but many more people could eat from the bar and there wouldn't be a handful of leftover slices that the family would be forced to take home. 

"Will you still think that if I tell you it's been because he's too busy looking at you?" 

She glared at Mitch through furrowed brows. "Right." 

"I'm serious," he hedged, bouncing his brows before tipping his head towards her, urging her to look at her back. "If you turn around right now, you'll see." 

"Just because he's looking at me, doesn't mean anything. He's my brother now, Mitch." 

Reaching for his drink, Mitch didn't look very believing in the story she was spinning. "I would be a little nervous if I had a brother look at me the way he is right now."

 "What does that mean?" 

He knew he had her then, a crooked smile on his lips. "Look for yourself." 

Giving in, (Y/N) pretending to stretch in her spot. She pasted an easy smile on her face as she nonchalantly turned to look over her shoulder. 

There, on the dance floor, with his niece on his hip, Harry's cheeks flushed. He quickly looked away, having been caught by (Y/N) as he gazed at her. His date was fluttering around, speaking to Gemma and her husband with an easy smile on her face. She was familiar with the family—more familiar than (Y/N) would think a new girlfriend would be. 

But, that wasn't any of her business. 

Turning back to Mitch, she attempted to look as if nothing she saw had even sparked a train of thought in her mind. 

"That doesn't mean anything." 

"Right," he drawled, sly smile on his face. "And, he's not coming over here, right now." 

"What?" (Y/N) bubbled, suddenly at attention. Her cup of gelato created in her tightened grip. Whipping her head around, she stopped in her tracks, expression dropping. No one was walking over to their table—let alone Harry. 

A burst of laughter came from her date. 

"That wasn't nice," she said, fighting back her own laughter. Truthfully, while it was pathetic how easy it was to get her to react, she knew if the tables were turned, she wouldn't be able to contain her giggles at Mitch's desperation. 

He shrugged. "It was funny, though." He took a long sip of his drink, ice clinking together. "If you're so jumpy, I don't know why you haven't gone to talk to him at all." 

"Mitch," (Y/N) started, finally abandoning the remnants of her gelato, "It's just not the right time. You already know everything, so." 

"So what? He obviously wants to at least talk to you. Just put him out of his misery." 

(Y/N) shook her head. "Even if things weren't complicated, he brought a date, Mitch. I don't think he's really dying for my company." 

"So?" he repeated, raising his brows, "You brought a date, too. And it's me." 

She could only roll her lips between her teeth. She wasn't going to examine the point he was making. 

"I'm going to get a drink." 

—————

(Y/N) felt entirely too accomplished when Gemma's daughter burst into another round of laughter at the shapes she was throwing on the dance floor. It was easy to make her laugh now that she knew what made the little girl giggle, but it still felt like an all star achievement every time a bubbling peal left her heart-shaped lips. 

"Auntie (Y/N) is just so silly, isn't she?" Gemma babbled to her daughter, equally delighted to hear her having so much fun. The later the night went, the more and more of a miracle it was that she hadn't grown fussy and in need of a bedtime. 

Just as she was about to make another uncoordinated movement, a gentle hand landed on (Y/N)'s shoulder. She saw the gleaming diamond ring adorning the fourth finger first, already knowing who it belonged to. 

"Could I cut in, girls? Sorry to ruin the fun," Anne asked, her beaded gown trailing behind her as she beamed at her granddaughter, "It's my turn to dance with Aunt (Y/N)." She paused, glancing over. "If that's alright, anyway." 

"Yes, of course, of course," (Y/N) bubbled off, "We'll just finish our dance battle later." 

"I'd watch out if I were you," Gemma teased, "After a snack, this one is going to run you out of town, I'm afraid." 

"I'd like to see her try," (Y/N) played along, narrowing her eyes despite the smile attempting to take over her mouth. 

Gemma walked away with a laugh, taking her daughter back to her husband. A happy little family, they were. 

"I can't believe you're still at it," Anne laughed, swaying along to the music with (Y/N), "I can barely handle standing in these shoes, and you've been dancing like nothing." 

(Y/N) lifted the hem of her dress, showing off her socked feet. "I took my heels off hours ago. I got through one dance before I had to make a choice." 

Anne let out a boisterous laugh. The champagne bubbles from the number of toasts recited throughout the night had seemingly had their intended effect. From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) could see both her Uncle Mick and Harry looking in their direction, affectionate smiles on their faces. 

"I'm just happy you're having a good time," Anne crooned, blissful smile stuck to her features, "I was getting worried." 

A furrow pinched (Y/N)'s brows. "You were? Why?" 

A heavy sigh left her lips. "I told Mick I wouldn't say anything," she started, casting her eyes to her new husband, "But, I've just been worried about you and H." 

(Y/N)'s movements lagged in time to the music. "Me and Harry?" 

"Don't tell him I told you," she rushed out, "But, he said there was something? I can't remember exactly what he said, but he just seemed really upset when I told him you were bringing a date, and when I asked what was wrong he just said it was complicated, or something like that. I could tell something was going on last night, but I didn't want to push." 

In so many words, Anne was laying out her mother's intuition. Despite neither she nor Harry divulging any secrets, Anne had been able to pick up on the words between the lines. 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, her grip on the skirt of her dress tightening. 

Anne chewed on her bottom lip before speaking again. "I know it's not any of my business, you kids are adults and can do whatever you want—or don't want. But, I think you should talk to him. If it's complicated in the way I think, I want you to know that... It's okay. Complicated things happen all the time, but that doesn't mean it has to be impossible." 

Champagne was a hell of a drug. 

"Right," (Y/N) answered, a tight smile on her face. "Thank you, Anne. I think I need some air, I'll be right back." 

Before much else could be said, Anne's brother popped in to steal her away for a dance. The heavy subject she had just dropped on (Y/N) was forgotten, instead excited to chat with someone new for the time being. 

That left (Y/N) to swiftly creep out of the venue and into the garden that had previously been fashioned into an elegant aisle for the ceremony.

The chilly air she had been eager to get out of earlier now felt like a balm on her skin. In so many words, Anne had basically given permission for (Y/N) to do whatever she wanted when it came to Harry. Despite the marriage that had just connected them as family. 

It was both freeing and heavy as she stood in the garden. 

Freeing to know that even from someone both removed but so close to the situation, she didn't think (Y/N) was catastrophically insane or unnervingly gross for even considering Harry as someone. 

Heavy to know that they hadn't been quite as undercover as she hoped. Not everyone would agree with Anne's ruling, and (Y/N) dreaded the idea of finding out just who could be on the opposing side. Including Harry and the date he brought tonight.

The music from inside seeped through the open windows. As if reading the mood from even out here, the DJ had switched to a slow song. The singing violins and melodic voice of the singer floated around (Y/N), making it that much easier to be a bit melodramatic as she trailed her finger of a wilting cornflower, the hue matching the color of her dress. 

"There you are." 

(Y/N) didn't have to turn to know who had joined her in the garden. The voice alone was enough to have her spine straightening, goosebumps sparking over her skin. 

She offered a quiet smile to Harry as she dropped her hand from the flower. "Here I am," she said, "Is everything okay?" 

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. A wilting periwinkle flower went lopsided in his breast pocket. 

"Yeah, jus' saw y'with mum and then y'disappeared. I wanted to make sure y'were alright." 

"I'm fine," she offered, "It got a little stuffy in there, that's all." 

"Well," he started, moving towards her until his toes were just on the edge between the patio and the garden, "Y'missed our dates sneaking off together." 

(Y/N) blanched at the information. "Are you joking? I'm so sorry, oh my god. I'll find Mitch right now, I can't be—" 

"No, no," Harry laughed, "'S fine. Sarah's been asking me about him since he got here anyway. I know it was only a matter of time." 

"Oh," she sounded, settling at the information Harry was sharing, "So Sarah's not...?" 

Harry shook his head. "She's a friend I've had for years. Mum loves her, so she was coming whether or not she came as m'plus one. This way she got to pick where she sat." 

(Y/N) laughed. Half from the practicality of this woman's choices, as well as a wave of relief that ran over her. So he hadn't brought a date tonight. Only a friend that was seemingly much more interested in (Y/N)'s date. 

"Mitch is just a friend, too," (Y/N) clarified, pretending as if she didn't hear Anne's voice in the back of her head as she offered the information. 

"I was hoping you'd say that. Otherwise, I was going to have to follow them and beat him up or something." 

"No need," (Y/N) sighed, "He'd be sad if you did that, anyway. He thinks you're cool." 

Harry's eyes brightened. "Really?" 

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," (Y/N) warned, biting back a smile, "He only said that when I told him you put together the music list for the DJ. He thinks you have good taste." 

"Well, he's not wr—" 

"I had to break it to him that you think frosé is better than actual rosé. I think he's still coming to terms with it." 

Mock offense took over Harry's features. "How dare you? I told y'that in confidence." 

(Y/N) shrugged, a playful smile painted on her lips. "I had to save him the trouble of finding out on his own. He never would have recovered." 

Harry shook his head. "'S not even that bad, I don't get it." 

"Coming from someone who thinks frosé is the best wine offering, that makes sense." 

He playfully nudged his shoulder against hers, shaking his head. A beat passed between them, the muffled voices from inside spilling out into the courtyard. 

"I saw y'talking to mum," Harry started, switching off the subject with the tease falling out of his voice, "Looked a little intense." 

She hoped he didn't catch the way her spine stiffened. "It wasn't anything serious," she lied, "Just got a little emotional with everything." 

When Harry didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) chanced a look in his direction. He already had his eyes trained on her, shatters of green examining her features with raspberry lips rolled between his teeth.

"What?" 

"She didn't—" Harry started, cutting himself off before reorienting himself, "It wasn't about anything complicated?" 

(Y/N) blinked. Had their conversation really been that loud?

"Harry, I didn't tell her anything," (Y/N) insisted, "She said she just had a feeling, but I didn't—I don't know how she knew—"

"I told her," Harry piped up, dropping his eyes to the grass at their feet, "Kind of. She could tell something's been going on, and she asked once. She thought I didn't like y'or something. I jus' told her it was complicated, but that must have been enough." 

He let out a huff of laughter though she was sure neither of them were feeling particularly humorous at the moment. 

"'M sorry if she made y'feel uncomfortable or anything. She jus' wants me to be happy, and—"

"She told me it was okay." 

Harry went silent at her admission. Raspberry lips rolled between his teeth. 

(Y/N) waited, a breeze playing with her dress. 

"She said it was okay? That... whatever she thought was happening between me and you, was okay?" 

(Y/N) nodded. 

She watched as the very corners of his lips turned upwards. 

"Your uncle said the same thing." 

A furrow had (Y/N)'s brows pinching above her pointed gaze. "When?" 

Harry's lips stretched into a full smile. "Jus' now." 

It took a moment to process the fact that Harry was telling her this information with a grin on his face. Nothing polite and short. A real, dimple-baring, nose scrunching smile. 

He was happy. He was happy to hear this news. 

That whatever had started those months ago was okay. Whatever that meant for them. 

"This is good," (Y/N) whispered, voice melding with the music from inside the venue, "Right?" 

There was a part of her that wanted to close the distance between them. Crush the grass under her socked feet and cup his jaw between her palms. To slot her lips between his and kiss him. To do the one thing she had been holding back from since that first dinner at her uncle's house. 

But, she needed to wait. She wasn't going to have another moment like that in the hotel room. If Harry wanted her, he was going to have to say it, otherwise she was staying rig—

Taking the leap for her, Harry closed the distance in one long stride. He gently took the line of her jaw in his hands, tipping her head up until the tips of their noses were touching. The length of his lashes were only a breath away from tangling with hers. 

"Really good," he breathed, waiting for her.

That was all she needed to hear before she was stretching to the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his. 

Harry steadied her with his hands on either side of her face, guiding her into this first kiss. He took her bottom lip between his two, his kiss lingering and sweet. The only urgency came from the fact that they both knew just how long they had waited for this moment, though there was no reason to rush through it. 

She could taste the pistachio gelato he had earlier in the night, alongside the sweet wine served by the bar. With each tip and tilt of her head, she felt the tip of his nose grazing hers, the scruff of his chin against her own, the soft give of his mouth. Reaching up, she bundled her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, keeping the lines of their bodies close together. 

(Y/N) no longer felt the chill in the air, consumed by the feeling of Harry's kiss. This was worth waiting for. Worth the complications, and the uncertainty. Worth bringing Mitch to a family wedding just for him to disappear with someone else's date. (Something she was going to expect a thank you over, if he and Sarah worked out past a hookup). 

Harry drew away first, though only far enough to rest his forehead against hers. Blinking her eyes open, she found him already looking at her, half-lidded with blown pupils.

"'M sorry," he murmured, the fullest points of his lips grazing her own, "About the last time. I should have—I didn't want to leave, I jus'—" 

"It's okay," (Y/N) whispered, puckering her lips to give him a delicate kiss, "I get it. It hurt at the time, but I understand. Everything was just too much then." 

A slight quirk angled his lips. "Complicated, right?" 

(Y/N) couldn't contain the small huff of laughter that fanned from her lungs. "Exactly." 

Tipping his chin, Harry sealed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. His hands on her jaw slid down, following the line of her arms until he reached her hands. 

"We should go back inside." 

Lacing her fingers between his, (Y/N) made no move to head back inside the venue. 

"Do we?" 

A light danced through his eyes. Casting a glance at the party going on behind them, Harry tightened his hold on her hands. 

"I think we could wait a little longer. Don't you?" 

All (Y/N) could do was attempt to kiss him through her smile. 

—————

thank u sm for reading! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own pleaseee send them in!

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Knight in papaya armor - Lando x F. reader

Summary: Lando gets a late-night drunk text from y/n who seems to be intoxicated and in a weird place. Even when they've broken up he will search the earth to save her.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mention of drugs, and roofies.

Word Count: 2.3K

Notes: I have something with exes, sorry not sorry.

···

When Lando got your text at 2 am he knew you were either in trouble or wasted. You had only texted him a couple of times after the breakup. The first one was a drunk voicemail telling him how much he had hurt you, and the other was when you had been locked out of your apartment in the middle of the night, no locksmith was available and he still had a key. But this had been months ago.

He was playing with Max off-stream. It was Christmas break, and he needed a detox from social media. When your message reached him, and as soon as Mary gave him the location, he was on his way there.

As he drove through one of the shipyard warehouses, his blood rushed just thinking about you alone there. As much as Monaco was a safe country, there were some places you wouldn't like to find yourself alone as a young female.

He parked his car next to some high-end cars and walked with his hood up towards the pined place.

He got to a semy-hidden entrance where a suited man stood blocking the door, looking at his phone.

"Invite code?" The man spoke without even looking at him.

"I don't think I need one" He rarely face-carded his way into places but knew there was no other way he could make it inside.

The guard looked up from his phone and took a close look at him, he was about to dismiss him when a drunk guy inside yelled his name.

"Lando? Lando Norris?" The drunken guy approached the entrance.

"Yeah" he simply answered.

"Mate, come on in" The drunken guy tapped the guard on his shoulder, and he moved to the side allowing the driver in.

"What can I get you?" The blond guy offered Lando a glass of champagne as soon as he was inside, the driver took it but had no intention of drinking it, he just needed to find you and get you the hell out of there.

"Thanks, I'm looking for a friend"

"I haven't seen any of the other drivers here" From the way he was dragging his words, Lando hoped his drunken state would make it easy to ditch him as soon as he had found you, allowing you two to escape the dark place.

As his new "fridend" kept talking, he looked around, a bunch of nepo babies, sketchy guys, and mostly underage girls in revealing outfits swamped the place. He could feel his heart rate rise just looking at the way most of the guys were behaving towards the drunken girls, and as he imagined you being treated the same, made his blood boiled.

"Sorry mate, the restroom?" He asked the blond guy.

"That way"

"Thanks" he patted him in a friendly way and walked towards the spot the guy had signaled.

When he was out of sight, he walked the place looking for you, trying to hide his identity. He was losing his patience by the second as he looked at the amount of alcohol and drugs being passed around.

He started looking for a red dress, and he could finally breathe when he found you. The moment he caught a guy's arm wrapped around your waist and saw him talking to your ear, he saw red. Without a second thought, he made a beeline towards you not caring anymore about pushing people to the side and being recognized, he just needed to get you out of that place, fast.

"Y/n" he yelled as he was arm's distance from you. The confused look on your face as soon as you saw him pained him a little. Usually, your eyes lit up when you saw him, but not this time.

"Lan?"

The guy next to you turned to look at Lando, annoyed.

"I need to talk to you" Lando took you by the arm and tried to pull you towards the exit but the dark-haired guy grabbed your hand before you two could walk away.

"Excuse me, she's busy"

"This will be quick" Lando tried to sound as friendly as possible.

"Don't think so, mate" The dark-haired guy pulled your hand harshly.

"Don't do that" Lando spoke menacingly.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Without a second thought, Lando punched the guy hard in the face making him lose his balance, his drunken state making it easy for him to fall and difficult to stand back up. He knew now, more than ever he needed to get the hell out of there. He grabbed your hand and pulled you fast toward the exit. Thankfully the people around you were too out of it to catch what had just happened.

You stumbled trying to keep up with him, but the heels and the amount of alcohol in your system complicated the task. You reached the entrance, the big guy in the suit was about to stop you but Lando swiftly shouldered him out of the way. He knew he had to run fast to his car so he pulled you over his shoulder and rushed to his car as you fought hitting his back and yelling for him to put you down.

He opened the passenger door, throwing you in as carefully as he could, and rushed to the driver's side, spinning his wheels leaving the bodyguards behind.

He reduced the speed once he was in the safety of the Monegasque streets.

"What the fuck?" You yelled annoyed, but he just kept driving silently, his knuckles white from how hard he was grabbing the steering wheel, breathing deeply, trying to ease his rushing heart.

"Lando, what the hell?"

Still no answer from the driver.

He got to your place and parked in the familiar spot.

You stood in the car in silence for a couple of minutes, the look on his face calmer now, but you knew him very well, it was one of those tense moments when you would just sit there silently waiting for someone to finally break the silence.

"Let's go" He opened the door and walked to the passenger side to open yours.

You stepped out the car, the look on his face softer now.

He touched your lower back and led you towards the elevator. You expected him to walk you there and return to his car, but he stepped in and pressed your floor.

You rode the elevator in complete silence, the alcohol in your system had gone down a bit, allowing you to stand up without any aid.

He walked you to your door, and you searched your bag for your key.

"Shit" you softly cursed under your breath.

A breathy laugh left his body as he searched his pants, took out a couple keys, and opened your door.

Yes, you had forgotten to get the keys back that last time he had helped you, or more like he had managed to avoid giving them back, just in case.

You stumbled in kicking your shoes off, and he did the same, remembering the no-shoes rule in your apartment.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He finally spoke.

You sat on the couch, confused, what the hell was he doing there? how the fuck he had found you?

"What are you doing here?" you tried to sound annoyed, you weren't sure why you were mad at him but knew you should be.

"You messaged me"

"What?" You took your phone and looked at the drunken texts. "Ugh"

"I'll take that as a a thank you"

"What should I thank you for? I was having fun at a party and you punched your way there"

"Actually, getting inside was the easy part" he joked, standing before you. He stared at you, assessing your estate, worried you had been drugged or something. From the way everyone was behaving at the party, he wouldn't find it weird the asshole talking to you had tried to spiked your drink.

"You can stop staring" You said trying to get his eyes off you. You had broken up six months ago but he still made your heart rush.

"Just making sure you're ok"

"No need, I'm perf-" A gag cut your speech short. "Fuck" you stood up and rushed to the toilet.

He walked behind you. You slammed the bathroom door in his face, but he stood outside as he heard you puke your guts out.

"I'm fine," you yelled behind the door. He smiled softly at your stubbornness; it was a sign you were okay, well, as much as you could be. He walked to the kitchen, giving you some privacy as he turned on the coffee machine.

You exited the bathroom a bit more sober now, your face damp from the water you had splashed over it trying to ease the dizziness and the minty taste of the toothpaste trying to cover the shameful puke aftertaste.

"Here" he offered a cup of coffee.

"Thanks" You took it and walked back to the couch.

"How did you find me?" you asked before taking a sip from the warm liquid, wincing at the bitter taste of the mint and coffee mix.

"Mary"

"She gave you my location?" Mary had spent the last six months cursing Lando's name.

"As much as she hates me she was worried about you too"

"Oh shit" That meant this was just the first time you were going to be scolded about tonight and Mary's version was definitely going to be worse.

"That's right, you scared us both, young lady"

"Don't call me that, i'm older than you two"

"Just one year, and it sure doesn't seem like it from the way you behaved tonight"

You rolled your eyes at his response and took another sip from the mug. Now that you were more conscious he knew it was time to lecture you, not that he never did stupid things, but this had actually been dangerous.

"Seriously, y/n" he sat on the coffee table in front of you, his hands on your knees sending electric waves through your body. "You can't do that again, please"

"Do what?" you tried to fight him.

"This, going to those places alone! do you know what could've happened?"

"It was just a party, I'm not a teenager, and I don't know why would you care anymore"

"I will always care about you, always"

"What?"

"Y/n, I love you" He softly said as his fingers caressed your knees under the satin fabric.

Your mind rushed, trying to remember the last six months, searching for the reason you had broken up and to remain apart. But there wasn't a specific reason, it had been a weird mix of life pulling you apart, his season being chaotic with the championship pressure, and your last year of school and the internship taking every minute of your time, making it impossible to support him like he wanted, making you feel guilty and making him feel alone and like a burden. He was the one who had offered to take a break, not because he didn't love you, on the contrary, he saw how you were trying to rip yourself into tiny pieces to fit school, work, and your love life, but it was too much, your sleeping and eating habits a mess trying to keep up with everything.

It pained him seeing you so worn out, and he felt if he pulled himself out of the equation, you might have time to take care of yourself, but of course, you weren't ok with it, your stubborness always trying to keep up with everything.

The day you broke up, you were running on 2 hours of sleep and two Redbull cans, the lack of food and tiredness blew everything out of proportion.

"If you don't want to be with me anymore, just say it, there's no need to make up all these dumb excuses!"

"Baby, listen to me"

"No! Just admit it, Lando, you don't want to be with me anymore!"

"Y/n, please listen to me" He tried to explain himself but you just grabbed your suitcase and rushed out of the apartment.

He tried calling you for days, but you were too burned out to listen to him, crying yourself to sleep every night for the next couple of weeks until Mary cornered you in some kind of intervention and kicked some sense into you. Of course, you had only told her your side of the story making her hate his guts for breaking her best friend's heart.

You cringed at the memory, feeling guilty as it downed on you he was just looking after you.

You looked down at the mug between your hands.

"Baby" Lando's hands took your face when he noticed a tear falling down your cheek.

"I'm sorry" you sobbed.

"There's nothing to be sorry" He sat by your side, hugging you tightly against him. "Baby, shhh, it's ok"

"No its not, I ruined it"

"No you didn't"

"I did, you were just trying to take care of me"

"I still do, I'll always will"

"How can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, we were too tired and too busy to think things straight"

"You're too nice, I don't deserve you"

"No one really does"

You pushed yourself away to stare at him. A cheeky smile on his face.

"I'm kidding" He approached you and tried to kiss you but you turned away.

"Wait, I puked" you tried to push him away but he held you tighter against him.

"I don't give. shit" He turned your face and kissed your lips softly.

"I'm sorry" You said when he pulled back.

"Stop apologizing" he kissed you harshly now.

"But I really am. I wasn't thinking straight and I made Mary hate you"

"We both were too into our own stuff, and I'm pretty sure she didn't quite like me in the first place, so no damage done there"

"Are we..?"

"Do you want to give it another try?" His eyes glinted from excitement.

"Do you want to?"

"Of course, but you’re the one telling Mary we’re back.

“Chicken”

“She might actually kill me if I tell her”

________________________________________________

Thanks so much for all your love, feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch, @f1fantasys

[moonlightwritingf1]

Barcelona Nights | LN4

⋆˙⟡♡ summary ━━━━━━━ YN gets caught masturbating in the hotel room by Lando.

⋆˙⟡♡ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.9k

⋆˙⟡♡ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The Barcelona air was thick with the hum of engines and the buzz of anticipation. Y/n stood on the balcony of the luxurious hotel suite, her fingers gripping the railing as she watched the city lights flicker to life in the distance. She could still hear the faint roar of the crowd from the circuit, even miles away. Her heart had been racing all day, though not because of the cars—Lando’s presence had a way of doing that to her.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Why did I agree to this? she thought, though deep down, she knew the answer. Lando had been persistent, charming, and borderline irresistible since the moment they’d met six months ago. His playful teasing, his unwavering attention, the way his eyes always seemed to find her in a room—it was intoxicating. And yet, she’d kept her feelings locked away, afraid to admit them even to herself.

The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lando stepping inside, his McLaren cap backwards, his face flushed from the day’s events. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm but slightly breathless. “Sorry it took so long. Post-qualifying stuff, you know how it is.”

Y/n nodded, trying to act casual. “No worries. How’d it go?”

He grinned, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. “P2. Not bad, eh? But honestly, I couldn’t wait to get back here.” He walked over, leaning against the balcony railing beside her. “How about you? Enjoying Barcelona?”

“It’s… different,” she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. “But nice. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Like I’d leave you behind,” he said lightly, nudging her shoulder with his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice.

They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the city’s energy wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Lando straightened up. “Listen, I’ve got some media stuff tomorrow morning early, so I’ll probably be out late tonight. You don’t have to wait up for me, yeah?”

She nodded, though a part of her wished he’d stay. “Got it. Don’t let me keep you.”

He hesitated, studying her face as if searching for something. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “Alright. See you later, yeah?”

“Later,” she echoed, watching as he grabbed a few things from the living room before heading out the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the spacious suite.

Y/n wandered back into the living room, her mind buzzing with restless energy. She poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as she tried to calm her nerves. But the more she sat there, the more aware she became of the tension simmering beneath her skin. It had been building for weeks—months, really—and now, alone in this lavish suite, it felt impossible to ignore.

She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way to her bedroom. The room was large and elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city. She closed the curtains, shutting out the world, and began to undress.

Her hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she peeled off her clothes and let them fall to the floor. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her body. She climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding as she reached for the dildo she’d packed in her luggage. It wasn’t something she normally brought on trips, but something about being here, in this city, in this suite, had compelled her.

She lay back against the pillows, her breath quickening as she positioned the toy between her legs. The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. Her hips arched instinctively, craving more, and soon she was lost in the rhythm, her fingers moving in tandem with the toy.

Her thoughts drifted to Lando—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased her. She imagined his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, his voice whispering her name. The fantasy consumed her, and soon she was moaning his name aloud, her hips grinding against the toy as her pleasure built.

Unbeknownst to her, Lando had returned to the suite way earlier than expected. He’d intended to grab something he’d forgotten, but the sound of her soft moans stopped him in his tracks. His breath caught, and he froze, his body reacting instantly to the realization of what was happening.

He crept closer to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and peered inside. The sight before him was enough to make his knees weak. Y/n was completely naked, her body glistening with sweat as she rode the dildo with abandon. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her face a mask of ecstasy as she whispered his name between gasps.

Lando’s hand instinctively went to his crotch, where he could feel himself hardening at the sight. He wanted to turn away, to give her privacy, but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by her raw, unfiltered desire.

Then, as if sensing his presence, Y/n’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her movements faltered, and she scrambled to cover herself, her face flushing crimson. “Lando! Oh my god, I—”

He stepped into the room, holding up a hand to stop her. “Don’t,” he said softly, his voice low and husky. “Don’t apologize.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. “I-I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I was.”

Her breath hitched as he approached, his presence filling the room. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same desire that had been simmering between them for months finally coming to a head.

“You were saying my name,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and something far more primal. “Care to explain why?”

Y/n’s cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to back down. “What do you think?”

Lando smirked, closing the distance between them until he was standing at the edge of the bed. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “that it’s about time we stopped pretending.”

Her heart raced as he leaned down, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips. “Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured. “Because I’m done waiting.”

Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath caught somewhere between panic and desire as Lando’s thumb lingered on her lips. His eyes bore into hers, unrelenting, searching for the truth she had buried so deep inside herself. The air between them was charged, electric, and she felt like a single word could ignite everything.

“I…” she started, her voice barely audible, but Lando didn’t let her finish.

“No more hiding,” he said firmly, his hand still cradling her face. “Tell me, Y/n. Tell me what you want.”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She swallowed hard, her walls crumbling under the weight of his gaze. “I… I want you,” she whispered, her voice shaking but clear. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando. I just… I didn’t think—”

He cut her off with a kiss, soft at first, testing, as if to make sure she meant every word she’d said. But the moment their lips met, something ignited—years of tension, longing, and unspoken feelings exploding in an instant. His other hand found the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

She gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her entire body tremble. It was raw, passionate, and utterly consuming. Every thought in her head evaporated, replaced only by the feeling of him—his taste, his warmth, his strength.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Lando rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. “God, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the roughness of his stubble. “But Lando… we can’t… not now. You have to get to the track again.”

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, his breath warm against her skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to focus tonight knowing you’re here waiting for me?”

The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kissed me like that.”

Lando lifted his head, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Oh, trust me, darling, that was just the beginning.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt a rush of heat pooling low in her stomach. She opened her mouth to respond, but he pulled away before she could, stepping back with a look of mock regret.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I really do need to go. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off the hook.” He winked, backing toward the door. “Be ready for me tonight, Y/n. I expect you to make good on all those fantasies you’ve been having about me.”

Before she could protest or even process what he’d just said, he was gone, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. She stared after him, her mind reeling. Did he just…? Yes, he did. A blush crept up her neck as she realized exactly what he’d overheard.

Groaning, she flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. This is going to be a long night, she thought, her heart still racing from the intensity of his kiss.

---

As the hours dragged on, Y/n found herself restless. She tried to distract herself—took a shower, changed into something comfortable, even attempted to read a book—but nothing could quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Lando’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her, teasing her. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you forget your own name.

Her stomach flipped at the memory, and she found herself wondering just how far he planned to take this. Would he keep teasing her like he always did, or would he finally give in to the undeniable chemistry between them?

By the time the sun began to set, she was a bundle of nerves, pacing the living room of the suite. Every creak of the floorboards made her jump, her anticipation growing with each passing minute. Finally, she heard the sound of a key card being inserted into the lock, and her heart leapt into her throat.

The door swung open, and there he was, looking as unfairly handsome as ever. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his shirt clung to his frame in a way that made her mouth go dry. He smirked when he saw her standing there, frozen in place.

“Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the way her heart was pounding. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up,” she replied, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Lando chuckled, setting his bag down by the door before walking toward her. “You really think I’d miss this?” he asked, stopping just inches away from her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“What?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Got something to prove, Norris?”

His laugh was low and throaty, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, leaning in so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I’m going to prove so much more than that.”

Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re welcome to join me.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she shook her head quickly, trying to hide the way her body reacted to his words. “No, thanks,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a defiant gesture.

He smirked, clearly not buying her act, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he tossed his shirt onto the chair beside him and turned toward the bathroom, giving her one last lingering look before closing the door behind him.

The sound of the shower starting filled the suite, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart was still racing, and her skin felt hot everywhere Lando’s gaze had touched her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door, then at the bed in his room, an idea forming in her mind.

What if I…?

Without giving herself time to second-guess, she slipped into his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stood there for a moment, listening to the faint sound of water running from the shower, then slowly began to undress. Her clothes fell to the floor in a pile, and she stepped out of them, feeling exposed yet exhilarated. She climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she waited.

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching longer than the last. Her nerves were on edge, every sound making her jump slightly. Finally, the shower turned off, and she heard the bathroom door open. She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Lando stepped into the room, towel slung low around his hips, his hair still damp and tousled. He froze when he saw her in his bed, his eyes widening slightly before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Look who decided to make herself comfortable.”

Y/n bit her lip, trying to appear confident despite the way her pulse was racing. She shrugged, the motion causing the sheet to slip slightly, revealing the curve of her shoulder. “Your bed looked more inviting,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward the bed. His movements were deliberate, each step bringing him closer until he was standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at her with a heated gaze. “And here I thought you weren’t interested in joining me earlier.”

She shifted under the covers, the sheet sliding down further to reveal the swell of her breasts. “Maybe I changed my mind,” she murmured, her eyes locked on his.

Lando chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He reached for the towel around his waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he teased her with his next move. Slowly, almost torturously, he tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. His cock was already hard, thick and throbbing, and she couldn’t help but lick her lips as her gaze traveled over him. God, he’s gorgeous, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched her reaction.

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away. “Very much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s grin widened, and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the end as he leaned over her. “Then why don’t you show me just how much?” he suggested, his tone teasing but unmistakably serious.

Y/n hesitated for only a moment before sitting up, letting the covers fall away completely as she moved toward him. She crawled across the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she positioned herself between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs, warm and firm beneath her touch, and she leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his cock before she finally took him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his head tilting back as her lips wrapped around him. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her but not forcing her, letting her set the pace.

She took her time, exploring him with her tongue, savoring the way he throbbed in her mouth. She kissed him, licked him, played

She pulled back slightly, her lips still brushing against the tip of his cock as she spoke, her voice low and teasing. “You have a very nice cock, Lando.” Her tongue flicked out to taste him again, and he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he breathed, his hands tightening in her hair. “You’re going to kill me.”

She smiled, her eyes locking with his as she took him deeper into her mouth, savoring the way he filled her. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, taste the saltiness of his skin, and it only made her want more. Her hand moved down to cup his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she sucked him, her lips moving up and down his length with practiced ease.

“I love your cock,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak before taking him in again. “I could suck it every day.”

Lando let out a choked laugh, his breath hitching as she worked him over. “You’re fucking insatiable,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only awe and desire.

As she continued to pleasure him, she could feel herself growing wetter, her own need building with every moan that escaped his lips. She was dripping onto the bed beneath her, her arousal impossible to ignore. When Lando noticed, his eyes darkened, and a sly grin spread across his face.

“Look at you,” he teased, his voice thick with lust. “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you? My little slut.”

She blushed at his words, but they only fueled her desire, making her even more desperate for him. She moaned around his cock, her eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in the sensation of him filling her mouth.

But Lando had other plans. With a growl, he pulled her off him, ignoring her whimper of protest. He flipped her onto her back, his eyes raking over her naked body like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze lingered on the glistening wetness between her thighs, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“I need to taste you,” he declared, his voice rough with need. “Now.”

Before she could respond, he was on her, his mouth descending on her core with a hunger that left her gasping. His tongue delved into her, exploring her folds with an intensity that made her arch off the bed. She cried out, her hands tangling in his hair as he devoured her, his tongue lapping at her wetness like a man dying of thirst.

“Lando!” she screamed, her hips bucking against his face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge. Every lick, every suck, every thrust of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through her, leaving her trembling and incoherent.

He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a wicked grin. “God, you taste so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “I could eat you out all day and never get enough.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp as she begged him not to stop. He didn’t need to be told twice. His mouth returned to her, his tongue working her clit with a precision that had her seeing stars. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Lando!” she cried, her body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to lick and suck at her, drawing out her release until she was left boneless and panting.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were glistening with her wetness, and his eyes were filled with desire. He crawled up her body, his cock pressing against her thigh as he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, his voice fierce and possessive. “All mine.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yours,” she agreed, her voice trembling with the weight of her feelings.

There was no turning back now. The tension that had been simmering between them for months had finally boiled over, and neither of them could—or would—put out the fire. They were consumed by each other, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire that showed no signs of slowing down.

Lando positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance as he looked down at her, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation. There was none. Only want, need, and something deeper that neither of them was ready to put into words yet.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice husky with desire.

And then he was inside her, filling her completely as she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He started slow, allowing her time to adjust to him, but it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he thrust into her, each movement driving her higher and higher.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only feel. The way he filled her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. She clung to him, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groans as they moved together, chasing the ecstasy that only the other could provide.

And when it finally came, it hit them both like a freight train, their bodies shuddering as they reached the peak together. Lando’s name spilled from her lips like a prayer, and hers from his like a promise, as they tumbled over the edge into blissful oblivion.

For a moment, they simply lay there, tangled together and breathing heavily, the world outside forgotten. But as reality began to creep back in, Lando rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest.

“Tell me this is real,” he murmured, his voice soft but urgent as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She looked up at him, her heart aching with the depth of her emotions. “It’s real,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s always been real.”

He kissed her then, softly, tenderly, as if sealing the truth of her words. And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, leaving only the undeniable truth: they were meant for each other.

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company. 

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[pauli-writes]

ever since 2.7 the sunday short(s) you made live rent free in my head.... how would reader react to him joining the ae after all of that 😣😣

warning: idk what to write here, themes of trauma and healing?

pairing: sunday x reader

author‘s note: thank u anon for waking me up from my hiatus with this. i was so creatively drained, but this request gave me new life. im probably gonna do all of the event stuff in the new year, so you can still request on that if you want. also happy belated holidays to all of you!

part i ☆ part ii

“no.”

“but reader-“

“i said no. i don’t want him here.”

march 7th and the trailblazer were looking at you with wide eyes, while welt, himeko and dan heng were a little more understanding to your seemingly drastic reaction to the newcomer of the astral express, who at the moment was standing awkwardly a little further away from the group.

“maybe we should talk about this in private?” dan heng suggested, but you only brushed him off.

“there is nothing to talk about. you asked me a question and i gave you an answer, i’m sorry if it doesn’t satisfy you.” with that you left the parlour car, the door closing shut behind you with a heavy thud. there was a tense silence that followed as the remaining members of the astral express exchanged worried glances.

himeko was the first to speak. “they’ll come around. this is just a lot for them.”

“himeko is right,” welt added calmly, “they’ll talk when they’re ready.”

later that day you were ghosting around the party car, unable to fall asleep. you supposed a snack and something to drink would do the trick. the earlier encounter was still heavy in your mind, replaying over and over again like a broken cassette tape. you know you were being mean and unreasonable, but you were just too overwhelmed with emotion to think reasonably.

as you got your drink and snack from shush, you turned to walk back to your room only to find sunday, staring out the window. the sight stirred something in you, a strange feeling of nostalgia, melancholy and hurt all mixed into one. you wanted to walk away, return to your room and never speak of this again, but just in that split second he turned his head and the two of you locked eyes for a split second, before he turned back toward the window. a moment of silence passed between the two of you, before he spoke up.

“the view is beautiful…” his voice was subdued, almost sad as he spoke, a stark contrast to the assured way he talked previously.

“i suppose it is…” you replied awkwardly, “i haven’t payed attention in a while.”

another stretch of silence passed between the two of you. you pondered if you should just leave, avoid the awkwardness, but before you could walk away he spoke up again.

“i apologise for any distress i caused you with my request to join the express. that was never my intention.” he turned away from the window and looked at you properly. you could see his expression, it was different that before, he looked sadder, remorseful even. this was a different sunday, that much was clear to you now.

you sighed and avoided his gaze uncomfortably, “you never mean to, but you still do it…”

sunday’s face fell at your words as a slight realisation fell upon him, he let out a small humourless laugh. “of course, i owe you an apology for that too…” he said mostly to himself, before clearing his throat and properly addressing you. “i see now that my actions were selfish. keeping you inside, wasn’t for you, it was for me… i know this apology doesn’t make up for what did, but i hope it makes traveling with me… easier.”

you looked to the ground silently. your emotions were all over the place at the moment. his apology didn’t help. there was a time were you hated him, but as you distanced yourself from what happened and looked back, you knew that sunday wasn’t solely responsible for what happened, his environment, the people around him, shaped him into that person. so, couldn’t blame him entirely anymore.

you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “i don’t what to feel anymore… the astral express was the first place where I was free to do as i please, it’s my home… somehow it feels wrong having you here.” you paused for a moment, looking for the right words, “but my reaction earlier was harsh, i can see you’re making an attempt to redeem yourself and that’s… comforting. i just need time and space to… to process everything.”

sunday looked at you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “of course, i understand. thing like that take time.”

for the first time that day you smiled, only a little, but a smile all the same. sunday couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile, but he was glad to see that again. “thank you… well, i’m off to bed then. good night.”

he straightened himself and nodded, returning the small smile. “good night, reader.”

[pillowspace]

Hihi!! Could I have some ISAT fic recs? Hurt/comfort is my fav but anything good is good~ Thank you!

I've read 200 ISAT fics, I'm gonna really have to think on which ones to put

Okay, here's your recs from my 200 fic scroll in no particular order <3 There's so many fics I like that I didn't put here, but I had to be picky about it so I didn't just put down everything I had

---

victim of your own creation by dysphoriahighschool

Siffrin has craved blood for as long as they can remember. After so many years of wandering, he's come to Vaugarde in hope of finding answers, just as the King's Curse begins freezing the country in time. He's quickly losing hope, but when they come across a small group determined to save Vaugarde from the King, Siffrin decides to join them. They can't get the answers they want if the country gets frozen in time, after all. They'd never traveled with other people before. Siffrin doesn't expect to grow attached to any of them, but as time goes on, the thought of leaving them hurts more and more. Worse yet, they refuse to even entertain the thought of one of them discovering what he is and what he's done. They just know that if they find out, they'll hate them.

Words: 192,175 | Chapters: 32/?

---

Stagger on Backwards by entryn17

[Ha… Ah?]

The fist opens. Hand turns. Fingers twirl. Again. And Again. You watch with mounting horror as your hand moves on its own, the actions becoming more frantic, more jittery, your chest starts to heave, stomach muscles spasming.

(Loop–)

[Stardust–]

They’re in your body. They’re in your body.

⯍

Or, after experiencing hundreds of grueling loops, Siffrin suddenly wakes up 3 months before they even started, on a bed in an infirmary, bandages wrapped tightly around their newly missing eye. Loop is there with them, too.

Words: 15,213 | Chapters: 3/?

---

UNCANNY ALL ALONG by entryn17

You can… you can still fix this. If you can just muster up enough want, you, both of you can come back from this.

“You can’t come back from anything! Hundreds of days spent in stasis, in your own personal handcrafted hell, an ice cold inferno – you think you’re the same person you were before you laid down on that meadow?”

✧

Or, trauma changes you, often in ways that leave you unrecognizable to even yourself. Now freshly out of the loops and rough around the edges, Siffrin with the help of their friends has to navigate not being the person they remember.

Words: 33,629 | Chapters: 8/?

---

Even in my fantasy, I can't commit to believing by Loafabun

You’re not sure what to think of Loop.

So far, you’ve come to two rather obvious conclusions during your time around them.

1) They’re… a star.

2) You don’t think they like you that much.

Words: 18,275 | Chapters: 3/3

---

Human After All by dunkalfredo

Isabeau, freshly recovered from burnout after rushing through graduate school, stumbles across an ad for a lab position at the research institute where his idol, Dr. Odile Yamamoto, conducts her work. Willing to risk another bout of burnout to potentially work with the Dr. Yamamoto, he applies for the position and gets the job. However, in the process of applying, it quickly becomes clear that something sinister is happening at this institute. He decides to go forward and accept the offer—only to find himself in way over his head in a conspiracy far bigger than himself.

(Or: Modern AU/Sci-fi. Isabeau goes back into the world of science after swearing it off only to end up in the Vaugarde equivalent of Area 51 and finds Siffrin, a shapeshifter of unknown origins, trapped deep underground in a padded cell. Unfortunately, he falls in love. Is their romance doomed? Could Siffrin ever escape? What is Siffrin, anyway? And, importantly—how does Odile factor into all of this?)

Words: 33,697 | Chapters: 3/8

---

The Funeral of Siffrin No Last Name by Kamary (SERIES of fics about ghost Siffrin)

"Ha, like, cut your ashes in equal parts like a pizza?"

(In a timeline that can not and will not take place, Siffrin dies. Unlike other times, he stays dead. Sort of.)

Words: 18,969 | Works: 3

---

Inutile by blueshine

Mirabelle doesn't know what to do. Not with her life, not with her faith, not with her own memory. Why does it feel like she's always forgetting something important?

Mirabelle is the Housemaiden. Isabeau is the Fighter. Odile is the Researcher. Bonnie is the Kid. And that's everyone!

It's raining in Dormont. If clouds cover the stars, are they still there?

Separate Sifloops-

Words: 173,378 | Chapters: 23/34

---

What became of you? by goldviola (Note: this one can get dark. I'm including it because I like it, but only read it if you're in that kind of mood)

After the world returned to normal, and everyone was safe and together once again, Isabeau noticed Siffrin's state. He knows they endured far beyond what he could ever hope to understand.

So a vague, earnest wish, mostly symbolic, was made, folded into a star shaped leaf gifted by a little girl.

I wish I could truly understand Siffrin, and always be there to help and love him.

Isabeau had no way of knowing The Universe would listen.

—

Or: Isabeau gets stuck in his own time loop, and does everything in his power to change it.

Words: 27,746 | Chapters: 1/1

---

Of Stars and Longing by Raaj

Months after saving Vaugarde together, Isabeau spots Siffrin lingering outside the window of his clothing shop. Naturally, he's excited! The Universe granted his wish!

...It still feels a little bad he had to wish for it, though. And something seems off with Siffrin.

Words: 4,979 | Chapters: 2/2

---

The love persists through it all. (The love persists through time.) by Pixxyofice

You are standing in front of a building. Nothing else is around- just a building. The building has a sign above a single door in big letters: TIME LOOP SURVIVORS SUPPORT GROUP. Hanging from that sign is a smaller sign reading Multidimensional!

... What the....

[...]

You let go of the door and look up as it clicks shut behind you.

You see

your family.

---

siffrin meets up with versions of his family who have suffered like he did. is this a blessing or a curse?

Words: 12,015 | Chapters: 1/?

---

Follow the stars back home by Loafabun (note: I haven't actually finished this fic, but I'd like to!)

There's an island north of Vaugarde. You were never able to remember its name. So why now? Why after all this time?

It's so close. You can see it now.

You want to go home.

Inspired by a post on Tumblr by @/auncyen!

Words: 77,781 | Chapters: 16/16

---

Thank you, kind wizard. For making me a frog. by Spinning_Planet_of_Love

With Siffrin's timelooping journey at an end, he walks away with a LOT of new information and trauma to process. Moving forward is a difficult feat, even with his family by his side.

Mirabelle suggests that, perhaps, keeping a journal to organize these thoughts and communicate his feelings to the others may help, so he decides to give it a try.

-

Contains spoilers for ALL content in ISAT, including achievements and quests dialogue, and eventually the epilogue too.

Words: 74,662 | Chapters: 18/?

---

Bleeding in Monochrome by JustSalPals

You're the first one to notice.

(After the events of the game, red stayed in this world of black and white.)

Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1

---

And if I were not myself, would this be easier? by rabbit_soup

Siffrin and his party's journey to Bambouche, and how he needs to learn to deal with what happened to him during the loops. Between nightmares, regaining his humanity, and his new-found PTSD, Siffrin is sure he's being a burden to his family. They, however, think otherwise.

Hopefully they'll make it to Bambouche in one piece.

Or

Siffrin is traumatized and his friends love him a whole lot.

Words: 63,086 | Chapters: 13/?

---

Natural Satellite by dirtbagtrashcat

After a hundred miserable loops, Siffrin makes a wish. Isabeau gets caught in the crossfire.

(…yes, it’s another Isa Loops AU. but hear me out! rock might beat scissors, but there’s no stone in the cosmos that can resist the gravitational pull of a star.)

Words: 55,043 | Chapters: 14/14

---

Bloom by Level99Eevee

After breaking free of the loops, Siffrin is more than ready to move on and enjoy life again. They’re with their family—their friends—for another journey, one without the King’s Curse nipping at their heels, and everyone will be together for the foreseeable future. So Siffrin is fine. Great, even! The others don’t need to know that the aftermath of their experience in Dormont still hangs heavy as a noose around their neck.

They just need to get over it.

-

Or: Siffrin has trauma, learning to open up is a process, and the others realize the loops left deeper scars than previously thought.

Words: 41,445 | Chapters: 7/7

To Cut You Open With a Knife and Find Your Sacred Heart by Hexea_Art

They didn't know how they remembered but they both knew that there are legends about these fae doppelgangers, that they wish for nothing more than to steal the heart of the person whose face they stole, for power, for acceptance, to trick more people, to lessen how uncanny they could be.

Either way, it's a death wish to be around someone who shares the same face.

So of course Siffrin and Loop decided to travel together.

(Aka an ISAT changeling AU)

Words: 73,358 | Chapters: 19/21

---

raconte-moi qu’on puisse crier tout bas by bibliomaniac

After everything, Loop is struggling to find their place in the world. Siffrin is struggling to adjust to life outside the loops. Isabeau is struggling to balance his love for Siffrin with his need to keep them safe, alongside his own worries about Changing. Politely, things could be better!

But when Loop joins the party on their journey, things tilt even more drastically off course. They'll all need to reconcile their past with their present growing feelings and with the future they're beginning to want. Maybe they'll even do it, too.

It will just blinding suck along the way.

Words: 100,632 | Chapters: 17/?

---

ghostlight by Kittenixie

ghostlight - a single lamp placed on stage to keep the theatre from being in total darkness after everyone’s gone.

After trying and failing to kill Siffrin to take his place, Loop tries to disappear. Siffrin makes them stay. They figure things out together.

Staying with Siffrin's party in Dormont's House of Change, Loop starts down the long, winding path towards recovery, carefully trying to navigate the complicated knot of trauma and grief that the loops have left behind.

Words: 86,075 | Chapters: 24/24

Sequel is back to one | Words: 71,525 | Chapters: 14/?

[genderqueerdykes]

i really appreciate your kind words and willingness to listen! it's a really shitty situation and i don't want to distract from the main purpose of your blog, but i've seen too many people say Zionist when they really mean "Jew who is ultimately harmless but has opinions I don't like." Ultimately it's best to look at what a person actually has to say about what's happening, and not on what other people call them. Anyways, sending you lots of love from a very tired Jew <3

i just wanted to say i accidentally deleted my reply from your last ask while trying to delete something else because my eyes suck, but i appreciate you coming back again!

of course, and no honestly, it's a great time to talk about it, especially what with it being Hanukkah now. i just hate how this website wears its antisemitism on its sleeve. people will freak out the SECOND they see a Magen David and i'm so sick of it. like idk how to tell you that you kinda can't make any kind of jewish pride flag with a Magen David on it without it looking similar to the Israeli flag because of how simple the Israeli flag is. a Magen David over a queer flag does not instantly mean that person is saying they're Israeli/pro-Israel

people on here will just find every and any reason to proudly display their antisemitism and i absolutely fucking hate it. i hate how people on here water down or just straight up make up their own definitions of Jewish terms and then use things they don't understand as an opportunity to attack jews like it's so painfully obvious. i hate it so much. y'all deserve better

i just. really don't like that you can't even reblog a post on here that says "i love queer jews" without people suddenly being like SO YOU SUPPORT ISRAEL????????????? like. ok. people are just using this as an excuse to be antisemitic like how did you just forget that tons of other jewish people exist. like what we're just gonna pretend they don't exist now ... ? it's gross. i don't like this shit. i'm sorry you have to deal with it. you don't deserve it. and thank you for giving me a chance to learn, that's what i'm here for.

if you observe, i hope you have a wonderful Hanukkah, same goes to all of my other Jewish followers. you deserve love and kindness

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Stay with me." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

@fluffy-dixon: I have a request for you ❤️ The reader is afraid of the dark, genuinely terrified but has learnt how to deal with it somewhat but something switches and they borderline have a melt down about it and Daryl is the one that finds out. Take it where you want, I know I'll love it but I thought it was a cool idea.

A/N: Hi, love! Thank you sooo much for your request. It was so fun to write so I really hope you like it. I changed it a little bit and added Merle being a good brother-in-law haha while being an idiot too. There is something hot about Daryl as your husband so here it is!

You are laying down sideways on the bed inside your cell, the warm colors of the candle flame on the small table fluttering softly on a silent night. The light fights against the darkness, wrapping you in a pleasant warmth. But when old terrors try to loom over you like the shadows in the small room, you try to focus on the small fire: every night as the sun comes down, you try to convince yourself that everything would be fine, but there are sometimes when your fears make you feel blind, like being trapped in a windowless world, drowning you in the absolute darkness.

However, in the midst of the infinite night, the door opens and closes, and his strong but serene presence comes in with him.

“Can’t sleep yet?” Daryl’s voice is a low and hoarse whisper as he takes off his vest and his shirt, kicking his boots off next to lay on the bed next to you, using his right arm as a pillow, the other one finding the soft skin beneath your t-shirt. “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?”

He is around all the time, but you learned to heal your own wounds just so as not worry him.

“It’s nothing. I just can’t sleep.”

Daryl looks at you with his usual calm expression, but you can feel him getting worried behind his gaze.

“Ya sure? Ya can tell me.”

His unnecessary concern makes you smile a little, because behind his tough personality, it is hiding the man who always talk soft to you, who tries to protect you even from a simple nightmare. Some things are impossible for him to control, but for things he can, Daryl was always there for you.

But when your right hand makes contact with his cheek, so soft and intimate, it makes him lean to your touch.

“You are such a sweetheart.” You tease, making Daryl growl low in disagreement, but he uses his own hand to keep yours on his cheek, loving how warm it feels.

Daryl didn’t know how to be the man who gave flowers and chocolates; he never was that kind of man, but he was always a loving husband in his own way.

“I ain’t a sweetheart, peach…” His parted lips capture your wrist, in a hot way as he goes down a little bit, kissing your skin using his hot tongue. You find yourself licking your own lip, looking at him as he finishes his little game. “But I do love ya so fuckin’ much.”

You chuckle looking at his playful eyes as he comes closer to you, kissing you in the same way he kissed your hand. Being married to him was not a romantic novel, but it was kind of perfect, in its own little way.

However, the complete darkness in that abandoned house makes you walk blindly. The run that had to be simple had gone wrong. But like a never-ending tale of terror, you walk and walk without reaching the exit, without being able to walk into the light you can’t see.

Suddenly, the tears on your face are burning your skin when you wake up, and your worst fear catches you like a cage. Your hands cover your face because you don’t want to see the abyss that darkness leaves, although it is not really there because of the light from the endless flame of the big and thick candle.

After a moment, you can finally hear Daryl’s voice.

“Hey. S’okay, sweetheart…” Using his elbow as a support, Daryl keeps repeating that everything is fine as he strokes your belly under the blanket, giving you the time to calm down. “It was jus’ a nightmare. Okay?”

It feels like you are drowning, but you use your hands to wipe your tears away, and when you drop your arms, Daryl uses his thumb to gently slide it over your skin one last time to make sure there are no more trace of sadness in you.

“It ain’t matter what it is, peach, it ain’t real.”

You lay down sideways, closing your eyes.

“It felt real.”

Laying back down, Daryl slips his arm around your body as he strokes your back.

“Wanna tell me?”

Putting that fear you think you were overcoming in his head isn't a good idea.

“You don’t need to hear it. It’s nothing really.”

Daryl nods, not wanting to push you to talk when you are not ready, so he just holds you tight, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay. But I’m right here with ya in case ya need anythin’. I won’t leave ya. Ya heard me?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You say softly, and Daryl smiles slightly even through his own concern.

“That’s ma girl.”

But come on, marriages are not perfect.

The moment Daryl enters the prison that night; you stay behind just for a short moment before sinking into the solitude of your cell. The world is so big in the outside, but it feels so little on the inside, almost suffocating, like a hand around your throat. However, when you take the first step into the prison’s dining room, the image in front of you is like a new way of breathtaking. It is not the first time Daryl holds baby Judith, but it is the first time he actually feeds her as some people of the group gathers around. And he is all smiley, loving the idea of having a baby even when in the beginning he was not founding to the idea of having kids.

But when you see Merle smirking from the other door, the one that connects the dining room to the cell blocks, you want to punch his stupid face as you walk pass him.

“Are yer ovaries startin’ to itch for a baby, honey?” He chuckles, following you to your cell.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Hey, ya kiss ma baby brother with that mouth?” He laughs. You have a love-hate relationship with your brother in law: he was an asshole in the old world, an asshole in the new one as well, but when his hand holds yours to stop you, you can see his worried expression when you turn around, even though you were actually ready to punch him. “Ya okay, darlin’? I was jus’ messin’ with ya. Ya know it, right?”

You sigh.

“Yeah… I know. And I’m okay, thank you.”

It is the same old lie you told everyone. But they asked if you were okay because they were kind, or because they really wanted to hear the long monologue of the no, I’m not okay?

“Ya ain’t lookin’ okay. Somethin’ happened with ma idiot brother?”

“Actually… I always thought you were the idiot in that weird relationship you two had, but hey… what do I know, right?” You chuckle, making him roll his eyes. “We are okay… or something like that, it’s just…”

You look away for a moment, and he breathes out a little laugh, but his blue eyes keep looking at you as he discovers the truth in your shy gaze.

“Shit. S’happenin’ again.”

You gulp, looking back at him.

“I don’t get it.”

Merle sighs, but that condescending expression he always used with everyone turns into a soft one he only had with you.

“That thing ya have with darkness.”

“I…” Merle was the only one who knew about that, but it only happened because during the weeks that Daryl spent working nights and you slept with the lamp on, he accused you of wasting electricity in the apartment you all lived, even when it was you and Daryl who actually paid the bills. Merle was an asshole 99% of the time, but he also was the person who told you that you should tell your husband about it, although you lied telling him Daryl already knew about that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you jerk.”

You turn, heading towards your cell, missing out the way Merle shakes his head before he starts walking towards the patio. The once quiet night now fills with the heavy growls of walkers on the other side of the fence, but he ignores them as Merle sits next to his brother at that old desk.

Daryl is smoking, without paying attention to Merle until he speaks.

“I can see ya’re being a son of a bitch again while yer wife is being a pain in the ass.”

Daryl frowns, not understanding the reference.

“What the fuck are ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

Merle chuckles.

“S’a quote from that stupid and girly movie (Y/N) made us watch once. The school book or some shit like that.”

“It was the notebook, ya dickhead.”

Merle laughs with sarcasm.

“S’the same shit.”

"Ummh." Daryl lets out smoke from his cigar before speaking again. “We’re fine, we jus’ had a small fight.”

Merle nods, thoughtful.

“’bout what? Ya started talkin’ shit again and she was ‘bout to kick yer sorry ass?”

Daryl looks away for a moment, internally debating whether sharing his thoughts with his brother is the right thing to do.

“S’not of yer business.”

Merle rolls his eyes, hating that Daryl and you are acting like assholes. Funny, isn’t it?

“Suit yerself. I’ll leave alone so ya can share yer fears to the moon like a damn baby.” He laughs, but then, Merle stops, realizing something. “Ya got more candles for (Y/N). Right?”

Daryl frowns, again.

“What?”

“Yeah. We ran out of ‘em and I see that she's become afraid of the dark again.”

Daryl is speechless for a moment.

“What do ya mean again?”

“Shit. (Y/N) told me ya knew.” Merle clears his throat, but now that your secret had been exposed because of him, he already could hear the insults coming. “She’s afraid of the dark, brother, terrified ‘cause the son of a bitch of her dad used to punish her with it when she was a child. She has been fine for years but it seems like her trauma kicks in every now and then.”

In a second that feels eternal for Daryl, he leaves his brother behind as he runs inside the prison, dropping the cigar, cursing under his breath for not know it sooner. He was angry because you never told him that, but in his way there, he tries to understand your reasons when he had his own demons hiding in the shadows. The difference was that Daryl was no longer afraid of the shadows since he met you.

But the moment he finds you sitting on the floor, knees against your chest and your hands covering your eyes, Daryl can hear your rapid and heavy breathing.

“Peach, hey, I’m here, sweetheart.” He sits on the floor too, taking you in his arms. “S’okay, ya’re okay.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay… I just need a minute. I promise.” You say, soft but unsecure words you try to hear to convince yourself you are going to be fine. One of his hands holds your head against his chest, but his heart is beating so fast and so loud you can hear it clearly. “You’re fine, Daryl, you’re fine, I promise.”

And amidst the turbulent fears he harbors, Daryl finds the strength to chuckle, a somewhat incredulous little laugh as he attempts to meet your gaze.

“Ya’re really worry ‘bout me right now?” He rests his forehead against yours, again, breathing fast because the mere thought of seeing you in pain made him feel like a scared child. But Daryl is trying not to love that much the way you always worry about him. “I think I was a fuckin' saint in other life to have found ya in this one, ma love. I really am one lucky bastard.”

Daryl always had pet names for you, but that was the first time he called you my love, and it was so funny and sweet that it makes you smile a little bit through your tears.

“Ya’re holdin’ a lot inside of ya, sweetheart, but ya can always lean on me. We got this, okay?”

You nod softly, because that is the first time when the word we don’t feel like you are bringing someone else down with you, and there, you want to believe, to trust that life wouldn’t look so dark from now on.

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

A Teasy Time~

For Artists Who See Their Art on My Fics Link to Artworks: Sethos pinned against a wall by Scara (@akushixa), Scara being illegally hawt (@yi_xin9943), Scara looking at you like you’re his prey (@kiyonvmi), Sethos hiding or flustered beyond belief (@mimilims)

Summary: Teasy Scara and making Sethos suffer :)

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Hope you all are doing well! Here’s the long-awaited teasy fic! The SFW version! Probably the only spicy thing is the kissing like in My Honey ♡ My Bee :) The N$FW version will be released when it is finished so if you were waiting for it, I’m so sorry that you have to wait a bit more 😓. Though, I hope you all enjoy this gift! It never gets old writing for these two :) Anyway, hope you all enjoy this fic, and thank you for a great year ❤️! PS, couldn’t decide which artworks to use so have you have two versions. Wanted artworks that really reflect what Scara looks like when looking at Sethos and how Sethos feels. The meme one of Sethos was too hard to pass up to not include :P Definitely need more flustered Sethos art.

Word Count: 3290 Also on AO3!

—

The sun is rising over the horizon of the Sumeru forest, its light filtering in through the window blinds of Wanderer’s and Sethos’s bedroom. The streaks of light casting a warm glow on the cuddling duo. Scaramouche was the first to awake, eyes fluttering open and propping himself on his shoulder. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked towards his lover, his breath catching in his throat.

“Fuck, he is beautiful.”

They both were only in their underwear after a night of making love to one another. He traced his skin and blushed as the memories came rushing back. He shook his head getting back in the moment. There will be time to do it again later. For now, he admired his boyfriend. He really looked divine and a gift from the gods. The tan skin glowing in the light and highlighting the muscles from years of training. The slow rise and fall of his broad chest as he breathed. His hair down as it partially covered his face and pooled into curly waves behind him. And finally, the hickeys that decorated his figure. The marks meaning that he is his. He drank in the sight, planting soft kisses all over him.

“I’m glad I have you in my life, my little bee,” he whispers. “I love you…more than you could ever know.”

After a few minutes of affection, he got off the bed and stood up, stretching and taking a look at himself in their full-body mirror.

“Shit, he really marked me up too.”

His body was littered with hickeys, mostly on his neck and shoulders while a few were on his chest and thighs.

“I guess that talkative mouth of his can be useful for something,” he chuckled, skimming his fingers over the marks.

He is really relieved that they sent Durin to be with Aether and the others for a few days because he definitely didn’t want their innocent dragon to see or hear what they were doing and are going to do again later. He has no idea how he would explain what he is seeing right now to their little dragon.

“This is going to be a pain in the ass to hide,” he sighed, walking over to their dresser and rummaging through the drawers to find a scarf or something to hide the ones on his shoulders and neck.

“Not here. How about—”

"Aah! It's a monster!”

He yelped in surprise, immediately pulling his hand out of the drawer as strong arms from behind wrapped around him and he felt a kiss on his nape.

“Did I get ya?~” Sethos teased.

“You got five seconds. One-”

“Wait, wha—”

“You heard me. You can’t please your way out of this one. Three-”

Sethos immediately let him go, bolting out of their bedroom using his electro powers and into their living room. Adrenaline rushed through him as his honey’s voice resonated throughout the house.

“Fourrrr~ Five!”

Scara sped off after him not activating his anemo powers just yet. He’ll pounce on his prey quietly after he is done toying with him.

“Oh Sethhh~ Come on out~”

He had a Cheshire smirk on his face as he purposely took heavy footsteps and started tapping his nails on the walls and any hard surface he could find. He wanted him to know he was coming for him.

And Sethos, who was crouching behind a couch, bit his lip as the sound echoed from the hall to his ears. He felt his face heat up and the pounding of his heart in his ears was deafening. Damn Scara for knowing how to get his skin tingling.

“You know what I’m going to do to you when I get my hands on you?” Scara asks, stepping into the living room and searching. “I’m going to stroke my fingers slooowly down that sensitive back of yours while I whisper those teases you love in your ears and plant little kisses on your neck.”

Sethos who managed to crawl around a corner and start backtracking to the bedroom as quietly as possible, almost collapsed upon hearing those words. He was biting back a grin as he rubbed the goosebumps that were forming on his skin. His mind was going a million miles a minute with scenarios and fuck, Scara knows how to rile him up.

He finally made it to the bedroom, his honey’s teasing muffled by the walls as he hid on the side of the bed away from the door. His escape route was to jump over the bed and out the door once Scara entered and shutting it on him. That should buy him some time he thinks.

Wait, why is it so quiet?

Focusing on his surroundings, it was deathly silent. No tapping. No verbal teases. No muffled noises. Absolute silence. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

Click!

Oh shit.

His eyes widened in horror upon hearing the door close and lock. But he still can’t hear anything, not even footsteps. He has no idea where Scara was in the room or if he was even in the room at all.

Should I chance a look?

After much debate, he decided to peek around the corner of the bed but didn’t see anything besides the closed door and the rest of the room looked untouched from where he was looking.

Does that mean he’s waiting out—

“It’s the tickle monster~”

“AAAHHHH!”

Sethos screamed as he felt arms, which were definitely his lover’s, lift him from behind and throw him onto the bed. He frantically struggled trying to get off the bed only to tangle himself up in the blankets. Scara took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, sitting on his waist and pinning his arms above his head.

“So, my bee. Thought you could get away with scaring me like that, hmm?”

He leaned down towards Sethos, giving him a devilish smirk while Sethos just gulped in return, too stunned to speak.

“Cat got your tongue, love?” Scara teased, trailing his fingers down Sethos’s exposed armpit.

“Hehehe, nohohoho!” Sethos giggled, bringing him out of his shock.

“So, you thought it was a good idea to scare me, huh?”

“Yeah? AHahaHAHA! Dohohohon’t!”

Sethos laughed, feeling Scara scribble against his sides.

“Remember, you brought this upon yourself~”

“Wha— oof!”

Scara let go of his arms, flipping him onto his chest and sitting on his waist once again. He started stroking his fingers along the bare skin of his lover’s back, making him jerk in his hold before giggling.

“Nohohohoho! Nohohohot thihihis!”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

Sethos felt a spark of hope only for it to be put out when he felt hands move his hair away and lips on the side of his neck.

“I forgot this,” Scara smirked, blowing a raspberry.

“GahaHAHahaHA!”

“And also, this.”

Before Sethos could ask him what else, he felt his voice right against his ear, sending tingles down his spine.

“You’re so ticklish it’s adorable.”

“Nohohoho!”

“You don’t think you are adorable? Well, you are with how you giggle like that and squirm around. You are making me want to tickle you forever~”

“Bahahabe! Stahahap teheheasing mehehe!”

What have I awakened in you, Scara?

“I don’t think I will. This is your punishment after all. Besides, I’m just getting started~”

Now he started scratching and Sethos let out a surprised yelp before falling into a symphony of laughter and giggles.

“You make quite the music for my ears~”

“NAHahahAHA!” Sethos laughed, shaking his head. “STAhaHAhap! TihihIHIHIckling MEHEheheHE!”

“Stop?” Scara leaned towards his ear, brushing his lips against his earlobe. “Why would I stop? You're clearly loving this with that smile on your face~”

Scara chuckled. He chuckled. The sound reverberated in his mind and left a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake. His love knows what he is doing to him. He knows it's driving him insane. And he definitely knows he loves it. It is so unfair how his honey knows how to turn him into mush. He whined in protest, crawling off the bed trying to escape his lover's clutches and flustering teases.

“Where do you think you’re going?~”

Before he knew what was happening, Scara pulled him back, squeezing his sides and making him squeal.

“I wasn’t done with you, naughty bee~”

“Wait! I-I’m sorry! It’s- HAHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHAHA!”

He felt nibbles on his back making him let out a guffaw of laughter.

“You're sooo cute when you know you're in trouble,” Scara teased, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles.

Grabbing a pillow, Sethos hid his face in it, muffling his laughs along with the blush from his honey’s flustering teases.

“My poor bee, it tickles so bad, doesn't it?”

Sethos pounded his fist against the bed in response, lost in his own laughter as his words got to him.

“Oh, I know, I know. It's okay,” his lover cooed. “It won't end anytime soon~”

Sethos’s reaction was priceless as his laughter got more desperate upon hearing those words and he scrunched up his shoulders, shaking his head in ticklish mirth and hair flailing in every direction.

Scara smirked, an evil grin on his face as he began blowing raspberries and leaving ticklish licks on Sethos’s back.

“NAHAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHARA! I’M GOHOHOING TO DIEHEHEHE!”

Sethos was now blindly whacking the pillow against Scara trying to fight back.

“What are you trying to do?”

Scara giggled at his antics, throwing the offending pillow away and tickling his exposed armpit.

“NOHOHOHO! MY WEHEAPON! TAHAHAKE THIHIS!”

Sethos managed to somehow squeeze Scara’s side making him bark out a laugh but as quick as it happened, Scara turned him back onto his back, a playful glare in his eyes.

“You made a mistake my bee. You really thought you could tickle me back?”

Sethos widened his eyes, panicking as he frantically crawled backwards. Scara took his time, slowly inching closer and closer to him with that signature smirk of his.

“Waitwaitwahahait! Plehease! I'm sohorry!”

“Giggling already? I’m not even touching you.”

Ignoring his lover’s protests, he grabbed Sethos’s scarf from the bedside table, tying up his arms before leaning down towards his ear, playfully nipping at it before whispering.

“Suffer~”

Sethos exploded into laughter, pulling at his arms in vain as Scara drilled into his armpits.

“NOHOHOHO! HOHOHONEHEHEY! I-I’M SOHOHORRYEHEHE! DOHOHON’T DOHOHO THIHI- HAHAHA!”

His lover didn’t bother to hear the rest, crawling a hand behind his back and scribbling.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! M-MOCHIHIHIHI!”

He twisted onto his side before falling back and legs kicking out in response to the overwhelming sensations racking through his body.

“Aw, that’s cute. Calling me nicknames again. That’s not going to save you, my love~”

“PLEHEHEASE! I’M SOHORRY! I’M SAHAHAHARWY! PLE- NAHAHAHA!”

“How you melt like honey right beneath me. Maybe I should start calling you honey now instead~”

“I only get to call you— Mmphehe!”

He was cut off by his own giggle when he felt fingers scribble along his side.

“Heh, you were saying?”

“You're mean, so mehehean.”

“Mean, huh?” Scara chuckled, making Sethos gulp.

“I'll show you what mean is~”

Rolling Sethos over, Scara straddled his hips and went all in on his back, not leaving any spot untouched. And Sethos exploded with laughter.

“MMPHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHA! NOHOHOHO!”

If Sethos could pound the bed, he certainly would as each scribble along his back was sending ticklish shocks throughout him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~”

“STAHAHAHAP TEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE!”

“Mmm, no~”

Tears of mirth started leaking from his eyes as the tickling continued. Scara was merciless as he whispered coochie-coos and tickle tickles making Sethos scrunch up his shoulders and alternating from scribbling to clawing and everything in between making him kick his legs out and laugh boisterously.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! SCAHA- AHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“Can’t handle a little tickling?~” Scara teased, slowing down and finally taking mercy on his lover before turning him over for a kiss.

“Hah, hah. You call that little?! I’m exhausted!”

“You need to build up your stamina more, my bee~” Scara snickered, kissing him again.

“Hey, I thought this was a punishment?” Sethos joked, playfully nipping at his lips. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t you~”

“You didn’t just say that.”

“What if I did?~”

“Such a naughty bee you are.”

“Only for you~ Hahahaha! Wahahait! Nohoho!”

“Just because you said that, no more kisses for you.”

“I’m sohohorry! I dihihidn’t mean it! ACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Mmm, sucks to be you~”

“You’re mehehean!”

“And just for that, no more cuddles.”

“Nohow thAHAHAT’S EHEHEVIL!”

“You should’ve been nice in the first place.”

“GAHAHAHA! SAHAHAY’S YOUHUHU!”

“Are you just trying to be a brat today?”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Not talking anymore huh? Two can play that game.”

Scara stopped, untying Sethos’s arms and just laying across from him, a smirk on his face.

“Wait, w-why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want,” Scara said, ignoring his question and hovering his fingers right over Sethos’s sensitive skin.

“What!? N-No! You— You can't do that!”

Sethos's eyes were wide as saucers, and he looked pleadingly at him.

“Can't do what?”

Scara looked at him innocently, but his grin betrayed his true intentions.

Now this, Sethos was not ready for.

“I take it back! Wan, Scara, my honey! Mochi-Mouche! Don’t do this!”

Sethos was biting his lip and clenching his hands. His lover’s fingers were right there! The anticipation was seriously driving him up the wall.

Please! Scaraaa!

“What? This?”

Scara wiggled his fingers at him, and he whined, shaking his head.

“Aww, that’s a cute reaction,” Scara cooed, pulling away and grabbing a couple nearby pillows before lifting his hips and placing them underneath.

“W-What are you doing?”

With his hips lifted up, his back was completely exposed and he never felt so vulnerable.

“Just this~”

With a devious smile, Scara slid his hand behind Sethos’s back. He hovered his fingers right below the skin, moving his fingers in a fanning motion making Sethos jump as he felt wisps of air against his skin.

Sethos groaned internally.

This is worse! I can’t even see his fingers! On top of that, I can’t even lower my back because of those stupid pillo— !!!

Scara suddenly placed his chin on Sethos’s thigh, a Cheshire grin on his face as he took an interest in placing kisses along his inner thigh.

“Nononono, Scara! Please! Just do it! Stop teasing me!”

Sethos was losing his mind as he hid his face in his hands.

“Use your words~ Just tell me what you want.”

“I can’t!”

“You can’t? Well, guess I have to keep doing this~”

Scara actually made contact with Sethos’s back making him gasp in surprise. Before he could say anything, his honey started slowly gliding his fingers back and forth making him giggle in delight.

Heh, I don’t have to ask him.

“You remember what I said before?” Scara asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “’I’ll slowly stroke my fingers along your back.’ That’s what I’m going to do and keep doing until you tell me what you want.”

Wait, what? WHATTT!? Nonono. Okay, deep breaths Seth. This is fine. This is fineee. Just last long enough and he’ll eventually want to full-on tickle you, right? Right?!

Scara could see the flickering of emotions on his face and he inwardly grinned.

Gotcha, my bee~

He suddenly scribbled his fingers along Sethos’s back making him shriek in surprise before going back to slow strokes.

“HAHAHAhahahah!?”

His laughter teetered off into confusion when he felt those same agonizingly slow fingers along his skin.

What was that for? Wa— !!!

“AHAHAHAhahaha??”

It happened again and he looked at Scara who only raised his eyebrows at him before planting another soft kiss on his thighs. However, there was also a tiny mischievous grin that anyone would have missed unless they were his lover, like him. The realization hit Sethos like a truck.

Oh no. Oh nononono. This is bad. This baddd. Das not good. Ha, get it? Cyno! Get your jokes out of my head!! Ugh, Archons, I am going crazy and definitely done for.

Sethos chanced another look at Scara and the latter shot him a sly smile before kissing and snuggling into him.

HOW CAN HE BE CUTE AND EVIL AT THE SAME TIME!?!?!?!

Sethos took a shaky breath, little giggles mixing in before he started speaking.

“Pleasetickleme.”

“Hmm?~”

Scara, I swear.

“Tickle me, please.”

“I can’t hear you~”

Oh, fuck you.

“Honey, just please tickle me.”

“Can you—”

“SCARA! TICKLE ME PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!”

“Hehehe, you could’ve just asked~”

Without any hesitation, Scara dug into every ticklish nook and cranny and Sethos let out the most hilarious sigh that Scara had heard from him.

“AhhAHAHA! FIHIHINAHALLY! HAHAHAHA!”

“You really like this huh?”

“OF COURSEHE I DOHOHO! WAIT! BWAHAHAHA! THAHAT TIHIHICKLES!”

“Of course it does, silly bee~”

“BUT IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”

“But you like it, right?”

“AHAHAHAHA!”

“Thought so~”

So, they spent the rest of the morning in bed with Scara tickling his little bee just how he likes it and the latter loving every second of it. Little raspberries along his back, scribbles along his sides, vibrating fingers on his armpits. The list goes on and on. And Scara was blessed with his lovely laughter.

“You had your fill yet, my love?” Scara asked, slowing down when Sethos fell into silent laughter.

“Y-Yeahaha. I thihink sohoho.”

Sethos shot him a giggly smile and it was Scara’s turn to have his heart melt.

“God, you are so cute, Seth.”

“Ehehe, right back at you, Wan.”

Scara sprawled over Sethos, wrapping his arms around him and peppering him with kisses wherever he could reach. He doesn’t bother to massage the ghostly tickles away because he knows Sethos likes the feeling which Scara finds very endearing.

“You’re in your mushy moods again, huh?” Sethos teased.

“Shut up,” Scara laughed, shushing him with a kiss on the lips.

They both melted into the kiss, closing their eyes and enjoying the softness of it.

“Mmph~ Y’know— ahh~ I can’t— Mmphaah~ Get enough of— haah~ You— Aah!”

“Mmm, you talk too much.”

Scara playfully bit his lips causing him to part his lips to let out a moan and he took the opportunity to dive in and suck his tongue. A once soft and sensual kiss now turned into a fiery passion.

Sethos was losing the battle for dominance as he fell apart, his fate sealed when Scara sucked his tongue. Though, he couldn't care less. Drowning in Scara is the best feeling in the world.

“Seth— Mmm~”

“Hnnn— Scaraaa~”

Scara tangled his fingers in Sethos’s hair, pulling at it. Not to cause any pain but to earn a low moan from the other. Sethos wrapped his arms around him, bringing them impossibly closer. However, his fingers accidentally grazed a ticklish trail on his skin drawing a giggle out of him, forcing them to break apart.

“Hah, hah. Ticklish?” Sethos can't help but tease.

“Hah, aah. Not as bad as you~” he shot back.

They stared at each other for a beat their breaths mingling before they started giggling and then full-on laughing until they trickled back into a peaceful silence.

“I'm so in love with you,” Sethos laughed, kissing his forehead.

“I'm so in love with you too,” Scara sighed happily, resting his head against Sethos’s chest and listening to his heartbeat.

“Good night, my bee,” he murmured after a few moments.

“You do know the sun is out, right?”

“Don't make me shut that mouth of yours again.”

“I wouldn't mind if you did it again, honey~” Sethos teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You are insatiable,” Scara laughed, shaking his head.

“But you love me~”

“Of course I love you. Now come over here you needy bee.”

“I was hoping you would say that~”

—

Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays again! :) Hope the wait was worth it ;) -Perz ~Risus Amoris~

[eurydicees]

oh dont apologise i loved your essay 😭 and i 100% agree with everything. Theres such a innate theme of choices and consequences in wicked the musical and its so fascinating to me how choices made by all the characters have such profound consequences at the end. And fiyero’s choices are no different in the way they alter the trajectory of multiple characters.

He is really the only one i can think of who sacrifices everything for elphaba and does it all willingly. How do you like elphaba and then dislike the one character who was ready to give up his whole life and everything that came with it for her 😭

Twitter is very binary in that regard honestly, and its such a shame that they miss out on some pretty interesting character analysis about their favourite characters bc they decide to be so rigid and weird about other characters who had an impact on their faves. Couldnt be me lol, making multiple threads about a character you hate. I also think something else is at play here but dont wanna say it publicly lol but given your other responses i think you’d probably agree.

And yes totally agree about dividing the film in two parts - i can only hope the film watchers stick around for part 2 and see fiyero’s whole arc

thanks for the ask! also i wrote another fiyero ted talk. if i were like charles dickens or whoever and i was getting paid by the word to write about fiyero, i could be so goddamn rich btw.

anyways, choices and consequences!!!!! like that's the whole thing!!!!!!! and the way our choices affect and change other people!!!! fiyero isn't an exception to any of that!!!!

you're so right that fiyero is truly the one who makes the ultimate sacrifices for elphaba. like glinda loves elphaba, she absolutely does. but she isn't able to take on the work and life that elphaba chooses in defying gravity.

when it comes to the things that are most important to her, glinda prioritizes comfort and reputation over, like, morality and principle. and the thing about glinda is that she actively makes this choice. she chooses not to go with elphaba. she wants elphaba to succeed, but she's not brave enough to join her. in order for glinda to find the bravery to take up the work elphaba starts, she has to lose everything that actually matters. and she has to be complicit in her own losing of those things.

fiyero loves elphaba to the point of sacrificing all of those things that glinda can't resist. the day with the lion cub, and elphaba's general influence on him, changes fiyero profoundly in a similar way that she affects glinda, but fiyero finds the bravery to act on all of that. the difference is that he doesn't get the choice to go with her until mid-act 2 after wonderful.

in thank goodness, there's that one exchange between fiyero and glinda where they say smth like "you just can't resist all of this" "well who could?" "you know who could, and who has." and he's talking about elphaba, he's talking about how she had all the love she ever wanted at the tip of her fingers when she met the wizard, and she chose to let it go because she saw the ugly parts of the wizard's world. and this exchange is so clearly boiling it down to "elphaba resisted the temptation of being universally/publically loved and glinda did not." which tbh is something so in character for a person who has never had that, and a person who has always had that and thus doesn't want to leave it behind.

ok i was going somewhere with this but i don't remember where. just. fiyero isn't a perfect character. and for SURE the choice to erase gelphie's romantic subtext from the book when adapting it for broadway was an act of homophobia. but if we're just looking at musical canon, fiyero is brave enough to give up everything first to save elphaba, then to go with her, and then to protect her. and so-called elphaba stans don't think that's good enough. which is CRAZY to me.

also like. he's literally not the comphet love interest. sorry you didn't mention that but i keep seeing people throw those words around and like that's not what's happening here guys. elphaba loves him. she sings a whole song about it. multiple, even.

comphet implies that she mistakenly thinks she loves him because society has molded her into believing that's how she should be (fyi if anyone's experiencing that, it's glinda but i digress). elphaba, who notably has never been able to comply to the mold society makes for women, because she's never been pretty white woman enough to be afforded a place in that society? you mean that elphaba?

guys elphaba just...loves him. that's all there is to it. she loves him when she realizes he's more than he thinks he is, more than the airs he puts off. she loves him when she feared he might have changed, she loves him when he proves he did change--for the better. she loves him when he sticks by her, when he chooses her. she loves him when he's a fucking SCARECROW. ("go ahead, touch, i don't mind" "you're still beautiful" lives in my head rent fucking free).

when she has her breakthrough "okay. fuck this world that has never been good to me, if you want me to be wicked, i'll be wicked" moment, it's because she loses fiyero. she gets betrayed by nessa, and she fails dillamond, and she loses fiyero--and it's then that she loses sight of what good she had begun fighting for. it's a love for fiyero that drives most of no good deed (broadway songs of all time btw). like sorry but you dont sing someone's name like that if you don't love them. that's just musical theatre rules. trust me i was a theatre major.

anyways. sorry for that detour. back to the point. twitter treats everything as so black and white which is crazy because this is a revisionist musical about how evil isn't black and white. like?????? whatever. imagine being so bitter about a character you dislike that you want to change fundamental pieces of your favorite character so that he isn't relevant.

look. gelphie is great doomed yuri and i support that so hard. but dont try to tell me fiyero isn't deeply important to elphaba and to understanding elphaba's character. tbh the love triangle here isn't fiyero choosing between glinda and elphaba. it's more like elphaba choosing between glinda and fiyero and what either of them represent to her (glinda and working within the system, or fiyero, and abandoning it).

and hot take maybe but like ultimately--as someone who has never been conventionally accepted, as someone who has been hunted down to be murdered, as someone who has been the victim of a smear campaign and propaganda against her character/intentions, all of which was in part driven by glinda--she was always going to choose fiyero.

i respect gelphie shippers, i do. in another world, maybe one without the wizard, they could've been so happy together. i'm with y'all. but given canon, even if all others fall, i will be the last fiyero defender standing. god i hope movie-only fans watch part 2 and at least learn to RESPECT him. at the bare minimum. please. please. please.

[suprababka]

How you first met & how they asked you out on a first date (part 1)

Featuring:

• Saitama • Genos • Speed-o'-Sound Sonic

[Garou & Metal Bat & Amai Mask: part 2] [Flashy Flash & Zombieman & King: part 3]

A/N: Merry Christmas! Thank you everyone for reading what I do and supporting me, it means a lot. I always do my best to make you guys happy because I really appreciate all of you. As some of you can remember, I've already mentioned a few times my first post with headcanons, and here it is! Finally, after all this time, I can present it to you as a gift for Christmas!🎄💫🎊🎉

(I hope I didn't mess anything up, and I'm sorry for being a bit late! I really wanted to publish this post sooner but couldn't. We don't celebrate Christmas in my country btw) Unfortunately, I had to split up post into 3 parts :((( Alright, let's see if you guys like my headcanons! :) (I low-key cringe at them tbh)

And dear anons, who requested headcanons, do not worry! I remember about you and will post everything, I just wanted to have a logical "begining" for hcs, you know?

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

Both of you go to the same store, so yeah, you pass by each other pretty often

(Genos even starts thinking you stalk his sensei)

And one day there is a limited sale

You get to the shop just in time to see that the last napa cabbage on sale is left

You extend your hand to take it as you feel someone's arm grabbing the cabbage

... and of course it's a bald man who you frequently run into

You look into each other eyes, both hands on the poor vegetable

Spark, emotions, passion... a-a-and he goes away with the cabbage without a care in the world

(Alright, maybe with a care to buy everything before the sale ends)

The only thing you can do is to just hum disappointed and look at the back of the retreating man

And come to think that you romanticized every encounter with him!

When you finish grocery shopping and walk out of the store, you meet Saitama with bags full of goods

It seems he has been been waiting for something... or someone, for example, Demon Cyborg

Giving one last look at him and at the cabbage in his hands, you begin walking to your house

Suddenly you hear a man clearing his throat and a "Hey, you wanted the cabbage, didn't you? Sorry, I took the last one. Here, I splitted it in half so both you and me could have it."

You turn around and see him extending the part of the vegetable

"And maybe you can be my other half?"

You're surprised to hear these words and blink for a few moments, thinking you misheard him

Saitama stares at you right back with a poker face, so maybe it's a prank after all?

"Are you joking with me right now?"

In return Saitama blinks with surprised eyes and shakes his head, reassuring that he is serious

"Well, how about we learn each other's name first and then see how it goes?" you answer, smiling and taking the half of the cabbage

And that's how you find out Saitama's name and agree to a first date

You begin walking back to your house and can't help but turn around to glance at Saitama

Then you see two figures coming up to him... from the bush

(And there is a big bunch of napa cabbage in the bush?)

You immediately recognize Demon Cyborg and... King?! Or is it someone who looks like him?

Soon you hear men talking

"How did it go, sensei? Did my tactic with cabbage work?"

"Yeah, Saitama bro, tell us. I hope you used phrases from mang- phrases I recommended to you?"

Chuckling, you continue going back home to the sound of Saitama's irritated voice, "Huh? I don't even know what you're talking about! What are you two doing here?"

"Helping you with your love interest, Saitama-sensei!"

"I said I could do it by myself! And I did it!.. Wait, why is there a bunch of cabbage in the bush?"

"I bought all of this for you, master! With only one cabbage being left, the chance you would talk to Y/n were higher than-"

"Wait-wait-wait, how do you know her name?"

"I scanned her face and found a lot of information about her."

"Genos, you can't do that!"

"If it can help you, why not? For example, I noticed that Y/n always buys napa cabbage, so that's why we needed to buy most of them, except for one."

"Wait, we? King, were you in this from the very beginning?"

"Maybe?" *nervous giggling*

Yep, dating Saitama is definitely gonna be interesting

Bonus:

Saitama has a problem, besides not having a worthy opponent to show him an interesting fight

And this issue is... his emotionlessness

Of course he can feel something like irritation, disappointment, a pang of hope, ardor from gambling, etc.

But it's not something deep

So he is confused when he gets this weird feeling in his chest every time he sees you

And the fact that he remembers your face and recognizes you speaks volumes

He also starts to think of you from time to time

That's strange

Soon enough he realises that he likes you

And just accepts this rather calm

(thanks to his nonchalant demeanor)

He's also too lazy to think about dating someone, getting to know them, going out somewhere, spending his money on something...

Nah, it's not for him, so his feelings for you will fade away eventually

Spoiler: they won't, it only gets worse

Alright, so he should just walk up to you, ask you out, get rejected and go on with his life peacefully

Sounds like a plan

"So, Saitama, you're quite pensive today, what's on your mind?" King asks while kicking his friend's ass in a game

"Eh, there's just a girl that I like. I thought it was temporary, but I guess I was wrong. So yeah, I gotta ask her out."

King is both perplexed and shocked: is this really Saitama? Saitama who isn't wasn't looking for a relationship? And he acts like it's something usual?

Ah, it's Saitama, he is always cool as cucumber, right

"I see. So, how are you gonna talk to her? And who is she, by the way?"

"Well, I don't know her. We just keep running into each other. I will just go and ask her out. If she rejects me, then I'l just live on. If she agrees on going on a date, then I... I guess I will deal with it on the spot."

"Huh, in that case you should think about your words to impress her. Something like "It looks like destiny keeps bringing us together, huh?", or "I know we don't know each other, so why don't we fix that?", or "I keep running into you, I think it's because you're magnetic.", or..."

"I agree with King," Genos suddenly says, watching Saitama play videogames with the S-Class hero, "I also believe that lucky coincidences such as choosing one product, accidentally bumping into her, standing next to each other in line can increase the chance of success. Though, sensei, I know you don't need any of that, she should feel honoured to be considered as a romantic partner for you. If she is not, then she doesn't deserve you and isn't able to see your greatness, master."

"Yeah-yeah..." Saitama answers to both men

(he didn't listen to them)

So when he takes the cabbage right from your hands and hears your disappointed hum, he feels like a jerk (just a little bit)

But on the other hand, it means that you'll probably reject him and he can go back to his usual life, right?

In that case, he can't let the chance slide

While he is waiting for you to appear, he decides to apologize and give you the half of the cabbage after all

Maybe it will irritate you more and make you dislike him?

Oh, and in addition he should say something romantic-alike, so you'd definitely say no to him and he could continue his peaceful li-

You agree to go on a date with him

Oops, everything goes NOT according to the plan

But, surprisingly for Saitama, he doesn't feel sad or troubled with the outcome

On the contrary, he's excited and feels like it's easier for him to breath now

Wow, it's something new

And strange, but in a good way

Genos is always busy with Saitama or away on missions, at S-Class hero meetings, at Dr. Kuseno's place, etc.

So he doesn't have time to date, not that he's interested in it, getting stronger and taking revenge on The Mad Cyborg is his top priority!

(Saitama and Dr. Kuseno are his top priority too of course)

Though, you unintentionally managed to catch his eye

How? Genos doesn't know

Once he just noticed you feeding a stray cat when he was going to Saitama's place

After that he started seeing you there again, again and again

Until one day he decides to walk up to you

Why? Genos doesn't know

And he just stands there, staring at you and the stray cat

You glance up to him and can't help but feel intimidated by Demon Cyborg

"Uh, excuse me, can I help you?" your voice comes out like a begging for mercy

He looks straight into your eyes

Even though his gaze is intense, you feel yourself getting lost in his eyes (as cheesy as it sounds)

There is something capturing about them, they are so cold yet so humane

"No, I just noticed that you regularly feed this cat," suddenly the young man speaks

"Ah, yeah, I do," you answer, breaking eye contact and returning your attention back to the cat, "Isn't he cute?"

All what you get in return is a simple "Yeah"

The S-class hero definitely wants to hear more of you

Why? Genos doesn't know

How can he continue your conversation without asking stupid questions? Or what if you want him to back off? Why does he care about any of this, anyway?

Young man catches himself overthinking for a first time in a long time

(silly boy doesn't understand that he always overthinks everything, especially anything related to his sensei)

Genos comes back to real life when you stand up, say goodbye to him and go… wherever you have to

He stands there, processing what just happened and deciding that there are some things that matter more than this

After a minute he walks away to Saitama's place

If only could he understand how wrong he was, not realising that it was far more than just a simple conversation

Because Genos starts seeking for any opportunities to run into you, to talk to you again, making your conversations longer and longer (and he is successful in this)

Even Saitama notices it and start teasing him about his crush

Genos denies it of course

But sensei doesn't believe his student and points out to young boy's attraction

(Saitama is desperate to get Genos spend his time somewhere else, besides his home)

"Just go on a date with her and see how it goes. If both of you don't enjoy it, then I guess I was wrong. But if everything goes well, why not take your chance? It's not like you will lose anything... Well, except for money."

"Sensei, I... I must write it down!"

In all seriousness, Genos listens to Saitama's advice and decides to go for it

The next day after this conversation he spots you feeding the stray cat yet again

When he walks up to you, he notices that you didn't have much to offer

"Ah, sorry, sweetie, I thought there was more leftover food in the package... Don't worry, I'll buy the new one and give you more food next time, okay?" you talk to cat, petting him

"Then it's a good thing I brought some… just in case," suddenly you hear man's voice and immediately recognise it

"Ah, Genos! It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Y/n-san," he answers, feeding the cat

(and the corners of his lips are slightly raised??)

"Going to your sensei's place, huh?"

"Actually, no," he stands up, looking at you seriously, "I wanted to know if you would like to spend some time with me."

"You mean now?"

"Not necessary, I would like to book one evening with you to get to know you better."

"Can I clarify something first?"

"Of course, what is it, Y/n-san?"

"Are you inviting me on a date? Sorry for being straightforward, I just want to know your intentions."

Genos.exe stopped working

Really, your question leaves him dumbfounded

Why is he like this? Genos doesn't know because he always finds reasoning for everything

Well, looks like everything besides this

"To be honest, Y/n-san, I want to understand my feelings towards you and I believe learning more about you will help me with that."

As for you, you are perfectly aware of your fondness towards young man

And of course you agree to a date-not-date with him

(on which Genos realises he actually likes you)

Bonus:

"Are you really going to just sit here and glare at me?" after losing another round in some PSP game, Saitama looks up from the screen and sees a young boy who has been attentively watching his sensei for… the past two hours

"Yes, I need to document your every movement, sensei."

"But not when I'm just playing. It's useless."

"I wouldn't say so..."

"Don't you have some better things to do? I don't know, go to some meetings or... flirting with that girl... or whatever."

"Flirting with a girl?"

"Yeah, the one who feeds the cat."

"You got it wrong, sensei. I'm not romantically interested in Y/n-san."

"Ah-huh, sure. You totally don't look at her when we pass by with hearts in your eyes."

"I physically can't have hearts in my eyes."

"Figuratively. Just admit it, she caught your attention. You don't pay attention to others. So it means something, doesn't it?"

"Sensei..."

Seeing confusion on his student's face, Saitama immediately feels a glimmer of hope that Genos will start spending his time somewhere else because of... certain "Y/n-san"

"Just go on a date with her and see how it goes. If both of you don't enjoy it, then I guess I was wrong. But if everything goes well, why not take your chance? It's not like you will lose anything... Well, except for money."

"Sensei, I... I must write it down!"

"No, that's not what you should do..."

"To be honest, master Saitama, I think you are right. I have underestimated the effect that Y/n-san has on me, so I agree that I need to get to know her better. Thank you, sensei."

"Uh, well, no problem... but you didn't have to bow."

The next day Genos spends on throughly planning asking you out

(yeah, he likes to think everything through)

So, we all know that Sonic lives in the forest

And he has a special place with a lake and waterfalls where he likes to spend his time and think about... well, everything

Escape reality, you know?

Sonic even believes that he's the only one who knows about this magical spot

Just imagine his face when one day after the intense training he goes there and sees someone in the lake

Disappointed, he decides to make an exception and leave this person alone

Soon he'll come back and his spot will be free, right?

Well, yeah, but...

This keeps happening every time he tries to unwind under intense waterfall pressure

Of course Sonic sees this as competition

He needs to complete his training faster and reach the lake before this person appears? You are on!

And he manages to do that

Proud of himself, he relaxes under streams of waterfall

But there is one thing Sonic didn't think through: you weren't aware of your competition

So, you go to the lake to spend your time here as usual

(you don't notice a young man sitting on the rock in the waterfall)

You unpack your things, lay a blanket and get undressed, staying only in a swimsuit

Suddenly you manage to barely notice something or someone moving in the bushes

Soon you realize it was a man

Not wasting your time on thinking, you immediately grab your stuff and start running away

Your heart starts beating even faster when you hear him calling you and chasing after you

It gets even scarier when you catch a glimpse of this man chaotically jumping from a tree to tree with unbelievable speed

You keep running until you bump into something and fall

Rubbing your bruised area, you open your eyes and see the same young man in front of you

And he is... naked???

"Aaaaah! Don't touch me!" you scream, crawling away from him and throwing tiny sticks at him

"Hey, stop doing that!' Sonic brushes off all of your attempts to defend yourself, "I won the competition and came here first, so it's my turn to spend time here!"

"What?"

"You heard me. You were at MY lake every time I came there! So I took it as a competition and today I won! I came here first!"

"Your lake? There is no sign saying it's a private property! Since when it's your lake?!"

"I discovered it first."

"What's not how it works!"

"Whatever. I came here first, so I have every right to be there alone."

"And I have every right to be there too! Since it's a public place in the forest!"

"But I left you alone every time you were here!"

"Well, you didn't have to! Or you could put something on, you know!.. Wait, "every time"?.. You were watching me? Pervert!!!"

"What? No! I went back to my place!"

"... Just cover yourself already!" you find your blanket and throw it at him

Taking your blanket, Sonic wraps it around his waist

"Listen, man, if you don't want me coming here, just say it and let me go. I don't want any trouble..." you stand up and wipe away all all the dirt

He is about to exclaim, agreeing with the condition, but... he examines you and your body

You are... rather cute... beautiful... lovely!

Suddenly the thought of never seeing you again makes him sad

"N-no, it's not like that..." he whispers, looking away and trying not to blush

(he miserably fails to cover the pink colour on his cheeks)

"J-just... Uh.."

Why does he feel nervous suddenly?

Meanwhile you stare at him, taking in his every feature

He has beautiful loose wet hair and a sporty body which is covered in scars and in drops

And his face is so cute!

But let's not judge a book by its cover, right?

"You can come here whenever you want to..." Sonic finally speaks

"... Thanks? But isn't it the opposite of what you wanted?"

He's silent for a moment, "It doesn't matter. I just want not to be disturbed. That's all."

"I can understand that. Well, how about we just distribute the time according to which we will spend time on the lake?" you try to find a solution to the problem

"... Yeah, that makes sense. But maybe, uh... Youcangivemeyournumber so we could inform each other?"

"Ah, what did you say?"

"I said... Let's exchange our phone numbers?"

"Good idea, it's more reasonable than what I suggested."

And just like that Sonic dictates his number to you, says goodbye and runs away, disappearing in the woods

"Uh, wait! My blanket..."

But it's too late, he's nowhere to be seen

(don't worry, he returns it next time you see each other)

You'd think that this is how your relationship develops: quick meeting and texts turn into long ones

But Sonic is faster than that

So he awkwardly asks you out a couple days after this… "incident"

Of course you say yes, why not?

(or should I say "who wouldn't?")

Bonus:

For the rest of day Sonic isn't himself

His thoughts always come back to you, to your sweet voice, to your cute face, to your capturing eyes, to your alluring lips that he badly wants to ki-

Wait, what?

He is Speed-o'-Sound Sonic, the fastest and the most skilled ninja in the world!

So why does he feel like this?

Why he wishes you'd be here with him and watch how he trains?

Why he wants to amaze you?

Why he smiles like an idiot re-reading your sms "Hey, it's Y/n :)"?

Why he wants you to text him more? To be with him under a waterfall? To show him your kindness again? To spend more time with you?

Why he craves your presence and attention so damn much?

These thoughts live rent free in his mind 24/7

He even dreams about you!

The next day it gets worse

He feels like he's a obsessed maniac

(poor guy just wanted to interact with someone and be accepted as a normal person: he doesn't realize how lonely he is)

And maybe he has a crush on you?

Nooooooo, he can't have someone something distracting him now, can he?

...

In the end of day (literally) he admits his feelings for you

However, he can't just confess to you straight away, right?

He needs to take steps

For example, he should start by asking you out first

But how?

Should he casually suggest spending time together?

Or maybe just send you a text?

Or leave a note somewhere?

Or maybe he should show you some of his tricks and wow you that way?

Well, considering how you tried to run away from him... it might be not the best idea

And since he wants to talk to you in person, then the only option left is to have a conversation with you and ask you out

Now he has another problem: what should he say?

"Go out with me."

No

"I thought it'd be great to spend some time together one evening. What do you say?"

No

"Heeeeey, watcha doin', girl? Wanna hang out with me?"

No

"Y/n, I know I came off as someone weird or creepy, but I promise I'm not. Our first meeting wasn't quite what you would call normal, but maybe let's change that?"

Nope, but he's onto something

"Hey, I'm not a pervert and want to go on a date with you. How does that sound?"

No

Ugh, why is it so hard to come up with anything good?

Maybe he should just go with the flow and the right words will find their way?

Yeah, sounds like a plan

(little he knows he's gonna mess everything up)

When it's time for him to approach you and start a conservation, he feels like he's going to puke from nervousness

But it's too late to back out

"Hey, Sonic! How was the training?"

"Hey... Uh, good. And you?"

(he was thinking about asking you out instead of training)

"Me too, the weather is nice and the water is warm."

"G-good to know..."

"Alright, see you around, Sonic!" you wave him goodbye, starting to go away

"W-wait!" he suddenly exclaims, pointing at you... and blushing?

"Huh? What is it?" you stop, turning to him

"I... I... I'm not a pervert!"

"O-okay, glad to know so? I mean, I kinda figured that out, despite, well, you know what..."

"But I want to- Around you I- What about-"

"What?'

Taking a deep breath, he finally asks, "Do you remember how we first met?'

"Of course, it was just two days ago..."

"Let's repeat that!"

"Whaaa- No, let's not!"

"I mean... Let's, uh, start over?"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Feeling embarrassed, he sighs, "I want to take you out..."

"Eeeeh? So what's why you have a katana? To kill me?! Please, don't..."

"What? No! I wanted to know if you'd like to go on a date with me... But I guess I messed up... So forget it."

"That's a shame, because I'd like to spend some time with you."

"Really?!"

"Yep."

"You're not joking?"

"Nope, I'm not. Well, unless you are."

You can tell by Sonic's facial expression he didn't expect such turn of events

"I'm serious! I'll send you the information!"

"Okay!" you smile, giving him thumb up

"Bye!" after saying that, he disappears

"Bye?.." you say to nothing (again)

Though, you kinda feel relieved to be left alone since you need to calm your racing heart down and stop yourself from jumping out of happiness

As for Sonic, he spends a lot of time, trying to calm down and reassure himself that his dream wish came true and he's not dreaming

(yeah, Sonic is a blushing mess around you)

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

If you’re still taking requests: sebson mistletoe matchmakers, one of those 5+1 things, like they use mistletoe together other drivers and the one time others do it to them

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 12: mistletoe — jenson button x sebastian vettel (+ webbonso, brocedes, maxiel)

note: happy christmas everybody!! thank you for the request! btw, i will probably reduce the days becuse 1 i have not that many fanfic ideas 2 december is coming to an end and 3 sadly i have to study for my exams. but keep the requests coming :) i’ll do my best to fulfil them. ps: mark sneak in the pic but it does give the idea of a christmas party. i also couldn’t think of 5 couples from the old grid so i’ll give you 3 lmao hope it’s enough. i enjoyed writing this A LOT.

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

That year drivers’ dinner was organized in a big villa. The atmosphere was beautiful, everyone was having fun. But you know what was funnier?. Jenson and Sebastian’s plan to pull a prank on the other drivers by mysteriously making appear a mistletoe above their heads. After all, what’s better than playing matchmakers?

The first pair they wanted to fall in their trap were obviously Mark and Fernando. Not only because those two were dancing around each other for years by now, but also because they were undoubtedly the easiest target, assuming that two people who became extremely touchy at any given time would be the most likely to kiss. Their assumption revealed itself, in fact, correct.

It wasn’t even that difficult: the two of them were already talking together in a side of the room. All it took was for Jenson to hang the mistletoe above them with a broom handle while Sebastian proceeded to distract them.

The two friends, as expected, weren’t very pleased with Seb interrupting their conversation, and they quickly dismissed him by ignoring him.

“They really wanted alone time.” Sebastian stated with a smirk on his face, once he was back to Jenson.

“Well, let’s see how it plays out. But not from here.” Jenson took Sebastian by his arm and pulled him in the hallway, from where they would’ve had a better visual.

Just as planned, Mark’s head bumped into the mistletoe, and both of them looked upwards. Fernando’s face turned to a shade of red once he understood the situation.

“Oh.” Mark’s eyes were back on Fernando, who was trying his best to find something else to look at. “I haven’t seen many mistletoes around, we must have ended up under the only one.”

“Si, I guess.” The Spaniard was clearly wishing he could dig a grave for himself in the floor. A small grave would have been enough for his size, he wouldn’t take that much to make it.

The taller man seemed uncomfortable too, but overall more collected. “Should we follow the tradition? I mean, if you’re in for it, of course.”

Fernando blushed even more if possible, but nodded nonetheless. “It’s just a tradition, after all.”

Mark didn’t let himself be told twice. He leaned down and pressed his lips on his friend’s. Fernando welcomed the kiss, holding him by his shoulder, while the Aussie’s hands fell down to grab his snatched waist.

Jenson and Sebastian exchanged an accomplice look. That was the sign for them to continue with their mission. It suddenly got extremely fun.

Their next target were the two inseparable best friends, because what was funnier than threaten to break a sexual tension lasting years with a Christmas kiss?

This time was even easier to place them right where they wanted. They hung up the mistletoe in the isolated hallway they have been. Jenson then began a conversation with Nico, subtly leading him in that direction, while Sebastian did the same with Lewis. Once they were all together in the designed spot, Jenson and Seb found a way out and left the two alone, under the infamous plant. They sat on a table where they could watch them from afar without being seen.

It was quite frustrating at the beginning, since those two didn’t seem to realize where they happened to be, too busy doe-eyeing each other. That, until a berry fell on Lewis’ shoulder.

“I can’t believe they really put mistletoes around here.” said Nico, picking up the berry from the Brit’s suit.

“That must be why Mark and Fernando were passionately making out before.”

Nico chuckled, remembering the sight. “Care to imitate them?”

Lewis froze suddenly. He was never out of words, but in that moment he really couldn’t find anything meaningful to say, so he just stayed silent.

“What? You don’t think your masculinity can handle it?” Nico teased him, stepping forward to cancel the empty space between them. “Or you’d rather take it and use it to kiss some pretty girl?”

Lewis didn’t believe there could ever exist a girl prettier than Nico. “Is it a challenge?” And God knew how much he loved challenges.

“I don’t know, would you accept it?”

Lewis took Nico’s face in his hand and pulled him in a kiss.

Seb gave Jenson the high five. It was proving all easier than expected.

They decided to have a drink or two before concentrating on their next victims.

“I must say I didn’t think it would’ve gone so smooth. Why is everyone tonight so fucking horny?” Sebastian said in a softer tone, careful not to be heard by anyone but his accomplice, and they both shared a laugh.

“Look,” Jenson got closer to his friend “tell me he’s not dying to kiss Verstappen from the moment he stepped in this place tonight.” He pointed discreetly at Daniel Ricciardo, sat in a table not too far from them, who was too centered on keeping his eyes on Max to hear what they were saying.

The two appeared in front of the poor boy, blocking his sight. Jenson initiated the talk. “Hey mate, how you doing?”

Daniel snapped instantly back to reality. “Oh. Good, thank you. I was just–“

“Yeah, we know.” Seb stopped him, saving him the awkwardness, then took a mistletoe out of their secret mistletoes bag and handled it to him. “We could have done it for you, but we thought it was more fun if you’d do it yourself.”

The young Aussie looked at the little plant, then at them, a bit confused. Then his big brown eyes widened and his lips parted in realization.

“Max.” Daniel greeted him, after finally finding the courage to approach him.

The boy was sipping casually on his drink. He smiled as soon as he saw his teammate. “Hi Danny. Are you having fun?”

The RedBull driver tried to keep the conversation going until he took the decision: it was finally time to shoot his shot. He sneakily dropped the mistletoe without being seen by his friend, then he slyly dropped down his eyes. “Oh, look. It must have fallen from the ceiling.”

Max frowned, then picked it up and scanned it, turning it around in his hands. “It doesn’t surprise me. Those two are hanging these damn things around since they arrived. Such a childish tradition.”

“Do you think it’s childish?” asked Daniel, finding it hard to hide the disappointed tone. He was usually able to easily break the tension by saying something funny, but in that moment he found himself out of jokes.

“I mean,” Max tucked his hair behind his ear, letting his nervousness shine through. “They’re like the cat and the fox, playing matchmakers, and now everyone is making out. We don’t want them to fool us too, right? Not that I don’t want to kiss you, but– Wait, sorry I didn’t mean it like–” he sighed and shook is head “What am I saying? Sorry, I’m being so bad with words. I just–”

His nonsense rumblings were interrupted when Daniel silenced him with a kiss. Max stiffened at first, but when his friend’s hand found his, he relaxed and kissed him back.

Sebastian and Jenson were watching them satisfied, sipping their second drink. Their game then succeeded most of the times for another hour. At least until they accidentally left their mistletoes bag in a corner of the room to go to the bathroom, and when they were back, it wasn’t there anymore.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone at the same time.”

So smart of them. “Maybe someone picked it up thinking it was theirs.”

They asked around, but no one seemed to have seen it.

“Has someone lost a navy bag?�� Nico Rosberg’s voice resounded suddenly among the people.

“It’s ours!” The two quickly approached the Mercedes driver, soon realizing he wasn’t alone. Lewis was with him, and also Max. And Daniel. And Mark with Fernando. Oh.

The Spaniard had his arms crossed. “I think I’ve seen it there.” He pointed to a door.

Seb and Jenson wasted no time and ran in the said direction. It didn’t take them very much to notice that they ended up in a room full of mistletoes, all hanging from the roof, from the walls, scattered on the floor and all over the furniture. The door closed behind them.

“I think they caught us.” Jenson commented, looking around. The other drivers’ laughters echoed from afar.

“Very perceptive of you.” Sebastian couldn’t help an amused smile.

“We kinda had it coming.” The Brit turned towards him.

“Kinda?” Seb shrugged. “It was inevitable.” His eyes met the other man’s ones, and betrayed his feelings. He couldn’t hide them anymore. “So, what shall we do?”

Jenson tilted his head a bit, his intentions so obvious, so readable on his face. He stepped closer and closer, forcing the other driver to back up against a wall. “Well, it would be very hypocritical of us to avoid the trend at this point.”

“I think so too.” The German’s gaze dropped to his lips.

Jenson trapped him by leaning on the wall with one hand. “May I?” His voice was low and his breathe heavy.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need your British manners with me.”

They smashed their lips together. They explored each other’s mouths, savouring each other’s taste. Sebastian’s hands held him close by behind his neck, while Jenson’s found a way down his body.

When they broke the kiss, they were breathless. Sebastian’s blue doe eyes were still fixated on the other man’s lips. “You know, I think I saw a mistletoe in my hotel room too.”

Jenson chuckled.

[maniwannadiezz]

Thank you. You make me feel sane for hating on vivs art😭 (she did influence my art in middle school, but now I see all the issues with it)

no problem! I think her art had a lot of bad influence on newer artists simply because at first glance it’s appealing and people like you (and me) thought why can’t we just copy it and go from there? Welllll problem is that just copying an artist will lead to you consuming and producing the mistakes they make or not fully grasp why they exaggerated something the way they did. Unfortunately those anime hating art teachers held some truth in their words, just copying right off of another artist without fully understanding the rules of art will lead to getting stuck.

I’ve gotten “stuck” before, my art deformed contorted to the style and gave me a mess where the heads were too big and the proportions too wonky when I could have spent my time understanding anatomy and proper colouring techniques. Of course there’s nothing wrong with just wanting pretty looking art and nothing more but if you want to expand and not hit a ceiling it’s better to learn the rules before you break them. You’ll probably learn things you never knew you never knew! Find things about your style you never dreamed you could have drawn before and expand into your OWN person and your OWN artist, instead of being the vivziepop drawalike.

DECONSTRUCTING VIVZIEPOP ARTISTIC ISSUES WE MAY HAVE CONSUMED AS CHILDREN (if her art has improved I haven’t seen but I will give her the benefit of the doubt! So let’s just isolate this to the past for US ex hazbin artists to understand where our problems truly began)

Anatomy: Vivziepop has a habit of not properly following even the anatomy of her own drawings let alone anatomy rules at all. I had to bend and meld what I thought a limb may look like from its transition from in front to behind a limb (like the legs) since the lines didn’t properly match up. Arms change size, legs have no knees, one thigh thicker than the other and hands that have fingers which melt into the palms.

you could say it’s stylistic, but considering she’s ONLY ever drawing stylistically whether she liked to or not this bad anatomy has become a crutch and down fall. If she wished to draw more realistically I will assume she can’t or can’t anymore…

Here’s a draw over. You can keep the stylistic effects while keeping your anatomy at least somewhat readable, especially the hands 💀

Shading: shading plays a huge role in not only give us context to the image like where the light source is coming from but also the shapes of the body. the body is comprised of different shapes (cylinders for arms and legs, circles and ovals for head, different planes for the face) with shading like vivziepop’s we don’t know where the light is coming from but also the shading blends into the drawing as visual noise, or worse makes things look flat and lifeless. Her legs especially are shaded as if they are two pieces of paper sticking out from under her dress.

Colours: we all know her main appeal in art is her colours, but designing your piece by just how pretty you can make all the colours also is ignoring fundamentals in what makes your art from good to BEST. With too much of one shade your whole piece blends together in the eyes of the viewer. With not enough contrast in the right areas you will have a focal point that bounces around (like us her chest the focal point? It’s the darkest spot on the piece! Or is it all those eyes that clutter up the whole drawing with the random stripes in the back…. Ouch! I can’t tell what’s what!)

conclusion: I leave you and others with this quest, you wanna get better at art? Take a moment to critique even your own favourite artists. You can have inspiration of course but question their decisions before blindly hoping on the hype train. Or you could be consuming their own mistakes and end up STUCK, like I was, like many have become.

Give critiquing these pieces a try, deconstruct them, trace them (don’t post) see where the lines match up- do the limbs look as if they existed behind the limb or do they go to a void and come up the other side a completely different size? You tell me…

[wildsupernova]

a secret gift.

prompt #3 on scealaiscoite’s christmas prompt list: “secret santa”

summary: another christmas spent with friends and loved ones means another annual secret santa celebration. but this year, steve has a special secret santa gift up his sleeve…

pairing: steve harrington x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, very mild sexual allusions

a/n: hey again everyone! i wanted to thank you guys so, so, so much for the love on my last christmas story. it was my first post back after a long hiatus and i wasn’t expecting to see it blow up like it did, but all of the reblogs really warmed my heart. this story was supposed to be uploaded on christmas, but time got away from me, so here it is a few days late. it’s not quite as good as i had hoped for, but it was an idea floating around in my head for a while, so i hope you guys enjoy. again, thanks so much for all the love on my last post, and thank you for reading this one! <3 — — nova

masterlist | prompt list

“Uhg, come on, do we really have to do this again?” Robin threw her head back on the back of the sofa, her skull slightly bouncing off the leather as she did.

“Yes, Robin, we’re doing this again.” Nancy shook the bowl full of little slips of paper in her hands for the third time, pulling one out and putting it in her lap. She passed the bowl to Jonathan, who also took one, and the chain continued until each person had a slip of paper. Robin was last to take hers, throwing the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of her.

“But I hate Secret Santa.”

“It’s tradition, Robs.” You say with a smile, hiding your own slip of paper in your palm. “We’ve been doing it since high school.”

“Which is exactly why we should stop doing it. It’s so old.” The group laughs at Robin’s childlike tantrum, Eddie giving her a light smack to the back of the head.

Christmas time was something you cherished deeply, especially amongst your friends. Ever since you were a child, the magic of Christmas had always been something you held with you; the shimmering, multicolored lights wrapped around a freshly decorated tree, the smell of cinnamon mixing perfectly with the earthly scent of pine, and the way the sun shimmered opalescent as it beamed down on a fresh layer of snow. Christmas was a time to feel like a child again, no matter how old you were, and you would be damned if you would let Robin’s yearly tantrum ruin a 5 year long tradition.

You had been a late addition to the friend group you found yourself in now, not spending time together with everyone until your senior year at Hawkins High. You had kept to yourself for most of your high school career, not doing much in the way of extracurriculars or social activities. You had friends, of course, but none that spent much time going to parties or participating in sports, so your friendships never expanded much outside of the small circle of individuals you had known since middle school. At the beginning of your senior year, you had realized just how much you had missed out on, and vowed that you would put yourself out there more and make your own memories. So, when your new lab partner Nancy Wheeler invited you to a party at Steve Harrington’s house, you agreed, albeit with a small hesitation.

At the time, you wouldn’t have described your relationship with Nancy as being very close. It was primarily a professional one, with most conversations revolving around that day’s homework or the upcoming quiz at the end of the week. When you brought one of your favorite books to class one day, the conversation pivoted away from the usual topics, with Nancy noting that the book was also one of her favorites, and that she was happy to find someone who was willing to listen to her talk about it non stop. Soon enough, the conversations became more like the ones you had with your other friends, and that had led to Nancy inviting you to the party that weekend.

Being invited to a party at Steve Harrington’s house used to be the greatest honor anyone could achieve, but now it was something that was becoming increasingly rare. You’d never had any negative experiences with Steve during your shared years at Hawkins High; you were just in the right level of social standing where you were practically invisible to him and his old friends, so you’d never had any bad nor good experiences with him and those formerly in his circle. You’d heard that in recent years he’d changed his personality significantly from how he’d been at the beginning of high school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see the new and greatly improved Steve Harrington.

Party wasn’t exactly what you would have called the get together you attended that Saturday night. By technical standards, it was a party. Music, drinks, empty house, and room temperature pizza were all present, but what was missing was…the people. It didn’t take you long to realize that you hadn’t been invited to a party; you had been invited to a hangout amongst long term friends, which left you feeling just a little bit awkward.

That awkwardness didn’t last for much of the night, however, as Nancy introduced you to the rest of the group quickly. Her boyfriend, Jonathan, was rather quiet, shaking your hand and offering a nod of the head as introduction. Robin was much more upbeat and gave you a hug as her greeting, which her girlfriend Vickie quickly apologized for and introduced herself. The best way to put Eddie’s introduction was charming, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it in a rather extravagant gesture, before he began profusely apologizing for it after realizing that it might have been a bit much. You just laughed it off and told him you appreciated it, which barely eased his conscience.

Then, there was Steve. It was visible that he was a different man than the one you knew from high school, like he had an aura around him that had shifted from a bright, overbearing yellow to a more soothing cool blue. He offered up a kind smile, ran a hand through his hair and unconsciously showed off the shiny watch on his wrist, and held his hand out for you to shake, which you took enthusiastically. You struggled to hold back the blush in your face when you saw his eyes just briefly sweep over your body, his grip on your hand firm as he shook and released it a few seconds later.

Needless to say, you were smitten from first glance at the new and improved Steve Harrington.

After that night, you became a permanent fixture in the friend group. At the start, you had felt like a 7th wheel, always left out of inside jokes and unsure of the context behind the many stories they told amongst each other. It didn’t last that way for long, however, as everyone was more than happy to go into explicit detail explaining the history of the joke or recounting tales that were always shared during get togethers. Naturally, as your friendship with everyone developed, you found yourself gravitating more and more towards Steve, and he seemed to be doing the same.

It became a regular occurrence that you and Steve would be left to hang out alone due to conflicts from the rest of the group. There were periods where Eddie was hardly around due to touring with his band, Nancy and Jonathan often cancelled in favor of date nights or work conflicts, and Robin and Vickie had perpetual band performances that left them unable to make plans. So, instead of canceling plans altogether, you and Steve decided to just hang out between the two of you, which became more and more charged the more nights you spent in each other’s company.

Nancy had been the one to pitch the idea of Secret Santa for Christmas that first year. You were still a fairly new addition to the group and didn’t know the others as well as they knew each other, and being the thoughtful person she was, Nancy didn’t want you to stress about finding Christmas gifts for everyone, so she figured Secret Santa would be the best way to not only give gifts, but also get to know the others with limited stress. You had ended up with Steve that first year, buying him an expensive watch that was far out of your budget, an item that, in retrospect, might have been an unconscious effort to make a good impression on him. Nancy had been the one to pull your name, gifting you a rare copy of the book that had led you to each other in the beginning.

As time went on, something between you and Steve seemed to shift that summer. There had been a tension building between you two for quite a while, but it finally broke after a particularly rough shift at Family Video. One moment, you were seated on the hood of his car in the parking lot talking him through his horrific encounters with various screaming customers, and the next his hands were all over you while his lips worked magic against your own.

You kept it quiet, unsure if what you were feeling was true romantic attraction or just a summer fling, but Steve decided to make it official that coming Christmas. It was your second year participating in Secret Santa as a group, and you had gotten Eddie that year, buying him a new guitar strap and set of guitar picks after his old ones finally broke. When you finally opened your Secret Santa gift, a small square box messily wrapped in bright red wrapping paper, you knew immediately that Steve was your Secret Santa. Inside of the box was a delicate silver necklace, a small teardrop shaped sapphire sitting in the center of the pendant hanging from the chain. That night was the night Steve had officially asked you to be his girlfriend, a proposition you happily accepted with a kiss.

The tradition of Secret Santa continued even when many of you had moved far from Hawkins, Indiana and started new lives, everyone somehow always able to make time to convene to celebrate the holiday. Nancy and Jonathan had moved to Chicago to pursue their collective journalism careers, spending their days with noses buried in books to get them through college. Corroded Coffin had kicked Eddie into stardom, with he and his fellow bandmates never staying in one place long enough to call it home, always on tour and playing new venues. Robin and Vickie had followed you and Steve to Indianapolis, beginning their own lives as college students. You and Steve moved into an apartment not far from your shared campus, with Steve working several odd jobs while remaining undecided on a major, finally finding his place in the education program after volunteering at the campus daycare for an event. Despite life always getting in the way, all of you consistently met for the annual Secret Santa, hosting the entire group at your house for the week leading up to Christmas.

“It’s not old, it’s a classic.” Robin rolled her eyes as Steve shared his defense for the tradition, earning him a small eye roll. He slung his arm over your shoulder and rested it on the back of the couch, yourself not seeing him subtly trade his slip of paper for the one Eddie was holding.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules. You have a week to find your gift, no tags, all wrapped in the same wrapping paper, and we exchange them on Christmas Eve.” Nancy folded up her paper and slipped it into her pocket, Robin letting out another groan of protest at her reminder of their rules. The room filled with quiet conversation as Steve looked down at the slip of paper in his hands, suddenly feeling the nerves he had been trying to push away for days fill up his chest.

A week later and the living room of yours and Steve’s small apartment is festively decorated for the upcoming holiday, the tree in the corner of the apartment covered in tinsel garland and the floor below is littered with brightly wrapped gifts. The Secret Santa gifts all sit in one corner, all wrapped in matching green and red striped paper, the bows tied on each one a different color to designate their intended recipient. You and the rest of the group sit huddled around the coffee table, drinks in hand and laughing about whatever crazy tour story Eddie was telling this time. Your fingers are wrapped around the stem of a wine glass as you sip absentmindedly from the merlot inside, and Steve sits next to you with his hand lightly resting on your thigh, his other holding the crystal glass of cheap whiskey that he’s been nursing the whole night.

“Okay!” Nancy claps her hands together, making Steve jump. You look up at him and raise a brow, but he just waves it off and gives you the ‘I’m fine’ look he always does. You don’t buy it, but decide to drop it anyway; he’s been on edge all week, but every time you ask why, he just brushes you off and assures you everything is fine. “We should get to the Secret Santa gifts while we’re all sober.”

“Please, I can’t listen to another minute of Eddie’s ramblings about getting drunk on tour.” Robin rolled her eyes and threw back the rest of the drink in her glass, swatting away Eddie’s hands as he tried to mess up her hair in retaliation.

Nancy was quick in passing out all of the gifts, having long memorized the designated ribbon colors that you all had set after the first year you had decided to use the same color wrapping paper and mixed up all the gifts. She handed you yours last, a messily wrapped box tied with green ribbon, and you placed it in your lap, almost immediately noticing how the shoddy wrapping paper had been taped down to the box. It was nearly identical to the way your Secret Santa gift from Steve three years ago had been wrapped, and you smiled a bit at the memory.

Once everyone had been handed their gifts, everyone took turns opening them. Nancy went first and opened her gift from Robin, a fancy new notepad and pen set for her internship at the paper. Jonathan got a new set of camera attachments from Eddie, Robin a new jacket from Nancy, Vickie a new hairpin from Jonathan, and Eddie had been gifted a brand new custom embroidered Corroded Coffin patch from Vickie. Eventually, it came around to you and Steve, where it became obvious that you had received each other for the Secret Santa exchange (if it hadn’t been obvious already).

Steve opened his gift from you first, ripping the paper off the rectangle shaped black leather box. When he opened it, inside was a golden ring hanging from a polished golden chain, just long enough to be able to fit over Steve’s head without much effort. Engraved inside the ring and placed in just the right way where it was visible, were the words ‘Merry Christmas, my love. Take this ring as a promise for many more.’

“I know it’s more expensive than what we normally do for Secret Santa gifts, but I wanted to get you something special this year. I haven’t pulled you for Secret Santa since that first year, so I figured I should get you something nice.” Steve pulled the necklace from the box, holding it delicately in his hands as if he were afraid to break it.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know you’re a big fan of promise rings, considering you’ve bought me, like, five, so I figured it was time for you to have your own.”

“I love it, thank you.” Holding it tightly in his palm, Steve leaned over and pressed a long, soft kiss to your lips, throwing the chain over his head when he pulled away. “Hopefully my gift can match up to yours.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, you always know what to get me even if I don’t tell you-” Your words died in your throat after you pulled all of the wrapping paper from the box and removed the lid, eyes growing wide as they landed on the small velvet box lying perfectly in the center. You looked at Steve, still wide eyed, who simply nodded for you to open the box, your hand shaking as you removed it from the cardboard box and flipped open the lid.

Sitting inside the box was a beautiful shimmering engagement ring, diamonds inlaid in the silver that weaved around in a beautiful vintage pattern. A single large, oval shaped diamond sat in the center of the ring, the ring’s band weaving around it to frame it just perfectly like the center of a flower. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and as you looked at the way the ring shimmered in the dim light, you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s been three years since I first asked you to be my girlfriend, and it’s been the happiest three years of my life.” Steve’s voice shook with nerves as he spoke, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, his face had turned a bright red. “When I first met you, I think part of me always knew that this is where we would end up. You didn’t know any part of me except for my reputation, but you gave me a chance anyway, even when I’m sure everyone you knew was telling you not to. That summer, when we started all of this and tried to agree that it was never something serious, I kept replaying these images in my mind of what a life with you would be like. You were just so unbelievably easy to fall in love with. No matter what you did, I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you until I just couldn’t handle it anymore and had to have you, totally and completely. Three years ago, I asked you to be my girlfriend with a Secret Santa gift, so, three years later, I have to ask you something again.”

Steve slid himself off the couch slowly, bending down on one knee in front of where you sat on the couch. You could barely contain the smile spreading across your face, and it seemed to spread to Steve’s own as he found it hard to speak.

“Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Instantly, you were furiously nodding your head, jumping into Steve’s arms and nearly sending him tumbling back into the coffee table. All of your friends shared a round of applause as you pressed your lips to Steve fervently, Eddie letting out a loud wolf whistle when the kiss got just a bit deeper. When you finally ran out of breath and parted from him, you let Steve slip the ring on your left hand, pulling him in for one more kiss.

When everything in the room finally died down and you found your spot back on the couch, sitting as close to Steve as you possibly could, you looked at the beaming smiles of your friends who all threw congratulations your way. As they did, a thought hit you.

“Wait, how did you guys make sure that Steve got me for Secret Santa?” Everyone in the room went silent. “You guys knew?”

“‘Course we knew! How else would we make sure that someone else didn’t pull your name?” Eddie clapped Steve on the back, earning him a playful swat in return.

“Eddie was the one who actually pulled your name, but we swapped cards last minute.”

“If it helps, they didn’t even tell me until right before we pulled names.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest, pouting like a child. “Said they didn’t trust me to keep the secret.”

“And you did phenomenally well.” Robin sent a glare towards Nancy’s condescending remark, but laughed it off quickly.

“When Steve told us what he wanted to do, of course we had to help him out.”

“Thank you guys, really. It took a lot of the stress off of me.” Steve looked around the room, sending a thankful smile to all of his friends.

“Of course, man. Anything for you two love birds.” Eddie stood from the couch and walked behind it, holding both you and Steve in a wide embrace over the back of the couch. After a semi-uncomfortable few minutes, Eddie made his way to the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator in search of…something. “Now, let’s celebrate. Who's up for some homemade gingerbread cookies?”

“Oh god, I’d better go help him before he burns down the whole building.” Nancy jumped to her feet, rushing towards the kitchen and screaming for Eddie to put down whatever he was holding.

You let the sounds of your friends surround you as you looked up at Steve, who was already staring down at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against yours once again, your new engagement ring sparkling in the lamplight as you entwined your fingers with his own.

[jennaispunk]

Amid the Falling Snow

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.9 k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, a hint of smut, allusions to smut, oral (f receiving), Ezra being Ezra, soft!Ezra, established relationship, two people madly in love. Reader has several nicknames (my love, love, little dove, sweet girl) Reader has hair that can be tucked behind her ear, but no other physical description is given. Photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only and do not represent reader.

A/N: This fic was written for @sixhours. Hey!! I'm your Secret Santa. Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy this little snow day with our lovable scoundrel. (P.S. This is my first Ezra fic😬) Thanks to @whocaresstillthelouvre for organizing the event. The title comes from a song of the same name by Enya. It just seemed to fit.

Moodboard by me. dividers and banner by @saradika-graphics

A million feathers falling down, A million stars that touch the ground, So many secrets to be found Amid the falling snow.

The hum of the ship drones in the background but all you can focus on is the dark-haired man between your legs, the little blonde patch that you’ve grown so fond of appearing every now and then as he moves. You never would have thought you’d find yourself here, traveling the galaxy with a loquacious Aurelac miner, but here you are, and you couldn’t be happier.

Your hips twitch as his lush lips suction over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation zings through your body and you know your second orgasm is only seconds away. The delicious tension in your lower abdomen is enough to make your eyes water. He draws his tongue in tight circles, and waves of pleasure wash over you as you cry out his name.  

He lifts his head with a throaty chuckle. You can tell just how pleased he is with his ability to make you come undone.

“You were magnificent, my love.”

His raspy southern drawl floats to your ears. It's one of the things that initially drew you to him; that and the curious shock of blonde hair in his otherwise dark locks. All you can manage is a soft mewl; You’re too blissed out to form words, too lost in the way he makes you feel.

His nimble lips brush against the silky skin of your inner thigh, tongue occasionally peeking out to taste the saltiness of your skin. Kevva, he loved the sounds you made for him, like the sweetest symphony he’s ever heard. He never thought he would find anyone like you: a wonderful combination of patience, compassion and sass. No one else listened to him the way you did. Some people found him verbose and a bit pretentious, but not you. You always knew when to listen and when to call him on his bullshit. It was time he repaid you for your affection. He was going to make it his mission to make you happy.

“Tell me, little dove…What does your lovely little heart desire? Name it and I will endeavor to make it a reality.”

The whispers of his dulcet tones tickled your skin as his lips continued their lazy path up your thigh.

Your brow furrows. Material possessions never interested you. Growing up with next to nothing taught you the value of the things that money couldn’t buy. The first thing that pops into your mind is so silly that you giggle out loud. Your hand slaps across your mouth to muffle the sound, but it’s too late.

His head jerks up and his mocha eyes meet yours. A roguish smirk graces his lips and his right eyebrow arches to the sky, silently imploring you to let him in on the joke.

“Don’t be shy. No thought is too preposterous, love.”

Your chest heaves as you swallow your giggles. This really was something you’ve always wanted. It shouldn’t be that hard to say out loud, but it is.

“I’d like to see snow.”

Teeth dig into your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. Your fingers fist the sheets as you prepare for the worst, for him to laugh at you and tell you how childish you sound. Instead, you’re met with a smile.

“My precious little dove wishes to see the snow?”

There’s not a hint of admonishment in his tone. He sounds curious, like he’s willing to indulge you.

“Um, yeah. I’ve always wanted to see snow. It looks so beautiful in pictures.”

He nods. If that’s what you want, he’ll make sure you get it.

“It is indeed beautiful…though it pales in comparison to the beauty displayed so deliciously before me.”

“Ez…”

Your cheeks burn; you could never resist when he talked to you like that. If any other man said the things he said to you, you’d laugh in their face. He was a silver-tongued devil, but he always made you feel so beautiful, so desired; like you were the only woman in the world.

“Shhh” he coos, continuing to kiss a path up your body and over your stomach.

“You would look devine in the snow, like a goddess with those flakes in your silken tresses.”

Plush lips slowly move higher to the valley between your breasts. Your need for him reignites once again and he lifts his head enough for his mocha brown eyes to meet yours as you mewl softly.

“I will make it happen for you, little dove. You have my promise that one day soon, you and I will dance amid the falling snow.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he resumes his teasing kisses. How did you get so lucky?

“But first…” he murmurs as his lips hover over yours.

“I need to hear my little bird sing for me one more time.”

Ezra propped himself up on an elbow and watched you as you slept. You looked like an angel all tangled up in the sheets and your hair spilling over the pillow. The dim runner lights of the ship illuminated your perfect features. You were the best thing that ever happened to a scoundrel like him. He wanted to make all your dreams come true, starting with showing you the beauty of a snowfall.

There was a planet he’d been to where it snowed all year. It would take some planning on his part, but he could take you there before his next mining stop.

He slowly sneaks out of bed and softly pads to the cockpit. He pulls out the maps and found what he was looking for. This was perfect; the snowy paradise you wished to experience was along the route to his next stop. A late start on grabbing his next haul was worth it to see you light up with joy.

The next morning Ezra made his scheduled supply stop. Once all the needed supplies were stored away on the ship, he set his course for the surprise.

“We have one more stop to make. Hope you don’t mind, sweet girl.”

The tone of mischief in his voice makes your brows go up. Crawling into the co-pilot seat, you can hardly sit still with anticipation and your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we stopping?”

He’s not going to tell you, he never does. Although he loves to talk, Ezra is a master at keeping secrets and no amount of pouting or begging on your part gets him to budge. He’s impossibly tight lipped when he wants to be and it’s infuriating.

He chuckles softly at your prodding. It always tickles him that you still try to wrangle surprises out of him with childlike enthusiasm, despite knowing that you’ll never break him.

“Patience, little dove. You’ll see soon enough.”

He punches a sequence in the computer and looks at you. He’s so excited to do this for you his chest hurts. He heard you murmuring about snow in your sleep last night and he knows you’re going to be over the moon when you see the snow for the first time.

He patiently waits for you to buckle your harness in the co-pilot seat. You’ve done it a thousand times, but he has to watch to make sure it’s secure; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to you.

He looks at you, his mocha eyes filled with affection. One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile.

“Now little dove, I need to blindfold you while we land.”

Your brow furrows and he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his large hand. The calloused pad of his thumb swipes the apple of your cheek to soothe you.  He knows you’ve had bad experiences with being blindfolded before, but he hopes that you’ll trust him enough to go along with him.

“It won’t be for long, I promise.” he assures you. “It’s only so you’ll get the full effect of what you are about to experience.”

You bite your lip and nod your head. You trust him, he’s proven himself to you time and again and you know you’re safe.

He ties the scarf around your eyes, plunging you into blackness.  Your fingers curl around the armrests as the ship rumbles around you. Little beads of sweat form at your hairline as you concentrate on the breathing exercises you learned. There’s nothing to panic over, whatever is waiting for you on the other side of this will be worth it.

The whine of the landing gear fills your ears, and the slight jostle lets you know the ship is on the ground. You exhale softly, slowly flex your aching digits. It won’t be long now; you’ll have your sight back soon.

Ezra unfastens your harness and takes your hands in his, helping you to your feet. He’s grinning like a fool; you have no idea what awaits you. He leads you to the ship’s door, his steps careful and measured to make sure you don’t trip.

Boots clack along the floor then a chill brushes against your cheeks. Your chin tilts up as an unfamiliar scent fills your nostrils. It’s a crisp, clean, almost earthy smell, one your certain you’ve never smelled before.

His boots clack again as he moves behind you. His broad chest presses firmly against your back as he reaches for the blindfold.

“Keep those beautiful eyes closed for me, little dove.”  he croons in your ear.

The lines between your brow deepens as you squeeze your eyelids closed. You can’t ruin this for him. The anticipation makes you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

He chuckles softly as his large hands come to rest on your shoulders. You look adorable as you wait for him to let you open your eyes. He gently squeezes you and lets out a breath.

“You can open your eyes now.” he whispers.

Your lids flutter open to behold a woodsy landscape blanketed in white. Tiny crystalline shapes floated to the ground. Snow. Your jaw falls open as you take it all in. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

You turn to him, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed tears. This was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you. You almost believe this is just a dream, but the tingle of your skin tells you it’s very real.

He takes his hands in his and holds them tightly. The look of disbelief on your face is priceless.

“Go on, little dove…”

He gestures toward the snow and smiles softly.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

You walk down the ramp as calmly as your stiff legs will carry you. The urge to run like a little girl is overwhelming but you reign it in. The blanket of undisturbed white goes as far as your eyes can see in all directions.

The snow squeaks under your boots, making you gasp at the curious noise. You take a few more tentative steps out into the meadow, looking around. The pines at the edge of the clearing look like they’ve been covered in marshmallow fluff, and you smile at the thought. Staring at the picture-perfect scene before you, you will your brain to burn it into your memory, so you won’t forget a single detail.

The quiet hugs you like an old friend. It’s just you and your thoughts here. Peaceful feelings envelope you, making you feel warm and cozy despite the cold. Your dreams paled in comparison to the reality, something that could only You never imagined this would make you feel so happy. Snowflakes land on your eyelashes, and you giggle softly. Spreading your arms wide, you tilt your chin to the sky. It feels like a thousand frozen butterflies kissing your face. You slowly spin around in circles until you’re dizzy, biting your lip so you don’t giggle. You sway slightly as you come to a stop, watching the steam of your breath dance among the flakes and disappear.

Ezra watches you, a smile plastered to his face. Your reaction is everything he’d hoped for. He wanted to see you happy; your smile was everything to him. Your little giggles made his heart feel like it could beat out of his chest. That was a sound he could never get enough of. The snow in your hair made you look ethereal, like a goddess come to life.

“Is it all you thought it would be, my love?”

His breath ghosts against your ear, the warmth amplified by your chilled skin. A thick blanket wraps around your shoulders. His arms hold the blanket in place, shielding you from the elements.

“It’s even better than I imagined.” you whisper.

Standing in the snow, wrapped in your lovers' arms was the most perfect thing you could have imagined. All your life you searched for someone who would accept all the love you had to give without reservation, and you’d found it in Ezra. He accepted your quirks and your flaws without hesitation, just as you had accepted his. The two of you were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

His warm lips brush against your frozen cheek and he hugs you just a bit tighter. He truly was the luckiest man alive. If anyone would have told him he’d find someone like you, he would have laughed in their faces. He had resigned himself to being a lone wolf, destined to be alone but you walked into his life and changed everything. You made his world brighter, gave him a purpose, a reason to be a better man.

“I believe I promised my lady a dance.”

He turns you in his arms to face him, pulling you tight to his chest. You instantly wrap your arms around his waist, the blanket now cocooning the two of you in its warmth.

Your head rests against his shoulder as you gently sway to the music in his head. He softly hums a melody, slightly off-key. The vibrations tickle your cheek, and you hug him just a bit tighter.

Despite the cold, you could stay here forever. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be. This is your own little piece of heaven, a place where nothing else matters but the two of you. The rest of the world and all the hardships the two of you have faced are miles away.

You lift your head to look at him and he lowers his lips to meet yours. It’s not hurried or overly passionate, it’s slow and real; the kind of kiss you give someone that means the world to you.

“This was the best day of my life.” you whisper against his lips.

His face contorts in mock offense.

“I beg to differ, little dove. The best day of your life was the day you met me.”

Your lilting laugh dies among the flakes. Of course he would think that was the best day of your life; Ezra’s confidence never faltered. Your brow arches and you tilt your head to the side.

“So cocky.” you tease.

His laugh echoes through the open meadow. He rolls his hips against yours and smirks.

“In more ways than one, it would seem. But my statement still rings true.”

What he said about the day you met was more true than he knew. That was the day your life changed for the better and you couldn’t be happier.

“You’re right. The day we met was the best day of my life…but this one is definitely in the top 3.”

He kisses the tip of your frozen nose. His stomach flipped a bit as he realized how cold you were. He should have known better than to keep you out in these conditions for so long without adequate clothing.

“I loathe to break up this magical scene, my little snow angel, but I’m afraid we need to get you inside before you freeze to death.”

A trickle of icy water drips down your shirt causing a little shiver to run the length of your back. It seems the elements are finally taking their toll on you. You’re not exactly properly dressed for the weather, and you can only hold out for so long.

You know he’s right; you can’t stay out here much longer but it’s hard to hide your disappointment at having to leave this wintry paradise.

“This isn’t the last you’ll see of this place, I swear it.”

The conviction in his voice goes straight to your heart. You’re the one person he never lies to.

“Thank you for today.” you murmur.

Another soft kiss, this time to your forehead.

“Anything to make you smile, my love.”

He disentangles himself from your embrace and guides you back toward the ship. You glance back one last time, a final snapshot of the most wonderful day.  

He hums softly and stops at the top of the ramp. He lifts you into his arms like you weigh nothing.

 “I feel a proper display of gratitude is in order, don’t you agree?”

You squeak as he lifts you off the ground. Your arms immediately wrap around his neck as he carries you bridal style onto the ship. He lays you gently on the bed and looks down at you with his mocha eyes locked on yours and his heartbeat thrumming against your chest.

“I’m sure I could think of some way to thank you properly...” you purr, “and maybe warm up at the same time.”

He runs his chilly nose up the length of your neck, stopping at your ear. Warm breath ghosts over your ear as he speaks.

“I have complete confidence in your abilities, little dove.” he whispered huskily, “Now, let’s get out of these damp clothes.”

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 6

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5

Me, at the end of this episode:

Something about the way Pran buttoned his shirt all the way up to the collar, like it's suffocating for him to share space with Pat for the first time since their rooftop kiss, is making me unwell.

Why is Pat's father on my screen? I do not like that man. He makes Pran uncomfortable and I can't allow that. Why does Pran make himself look small when interacting with Pat's dad? Is it just his way of showing respect for an elder or is there something more?

"We know how it's going to end; isn't it better not to start at all?" Pran, bestie, are we still talking about music here? It hasn't escaped me that Pran is leaving the guitar with Wai after Pat kept it with him for 3 years before returning it to Pran. I just hope Pat doesn't find out about this.

Now, What is Pran's mom deal? You're on a timeout along with Pat's dad. Go sit in the corner for a while.

Pa is a child of (PatPran's) divorce at this point. She has to put up with Pat wreaking havoc in his room with the drums.

Pa out her assuming that everyone likes Ink because she likes her. Understandable, bestie, but you're way off in this case.

Pat following Pran to the architecture faculty volunteer camp strengthens my belief that Pat is just a lost puppy following Pran around.

The irony of Pran ignoring Pat by using the earphones that Pat gave him isn't lost on me.

Pran hasn't counted on Pat's pesky persistence. I'm cheering you on, Pat; make Pran go off-kilter.

Now, let's all thank Uncle Tong for coming up with these activities at a volunteer camp and divine intervention for actually pairing them together.

PAT USED HIS HAND TO PROTECT PRAN'S HEAD FROM THE FALL.

Wai is officially on my shit list. Why is he being so damn possessive of Pran? Pran can make his own choices, and if he weren't comfortable with Pat lying on him, I can't imagine why he wouldn't be, he can take care of himself.

Pat, bestie, I love how brazen you are, and I appreciate it.

Pran saying, "Someone like him will quit bothering us when he has had enough," in relation to Pat, and Pat coming with a chair to settle between Pran and Wai is just too fucking funny.

Now, Pran is being the physical embodiment of "My having feelings for you has nothing to do with you. Don't talk to me."

Pat is using the child, Junior, as their unofficial couple's counselor.

So, the trip to the market counts as a date, right? Glad we agree on that. Even the vendor thinks that they look cute together.

PLAYING IN THE WATER TOGETHER!!! This episode is a gift that keeps on giving. The conversation by the beach.

Okay, but what did Pat do to have Pran transferred from the school? I get his anger at his mom, but what did Pat do other than be a part of the band?

I love how, although there isn't any direct mention of homophobia (yet) in the show, their (familial & faculty) rivalry, that they didn't ask for but was imposed on them, feels like an allegory for it.

Without people around, I can sit next to you just fine. But when there's other people, talking to you feels like amatter of life and death. What can we do? We were just born this way.

OMG. Their hands touched, and Pran didn't pull away!!!!

I'm not even mad about the product placements, and that's how you know the show got me hooked.

Wai and Pat sharing a room will be interesting for sure. I don't trust him, though; he looks like he's planning to hurt my boy.

I love how Pat has zero chill, just bulldozing his way to Pran.

Wai, you fucking asshole, who do you think you are?? Pran, save your man!!!

And he does. Pran's on-the-spot lore cooking skills need to be taught in school. It's a survival skill if I'm being honest. He wasn't lying, though. His first love did fall in love. WITH HIM.

Pat CAUGHT Pran's hand and stopped him from leaving. ASFFGHDGJ—

Oh, nothing to see here, just a pair of lying liars sitting by the beach and lying to each other.

Pat's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he heard Pran say It is so obvious that you like me.

Gotta love Pat's tenacity and how he maneuvered Pran into being the recipient of his flirting.

Everything's gotta be a competition with these two. However, in this scenario, both of them are going to win and have fun along the way.

Let the (flirting) games begin!!!

Pran's definition of flirting is licking Pat's finger. SIT WITH THAT INFORMATION!! Pran, my beloved, you are a fucking menace for pulling the big guns out this early in the game!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou. If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.