#the ‘but you can take it though right?’ in part three of my snowman and me comes directly from my boyfriend <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[inkykeiji]

tomura and touyas response to their reader screaming/whining "hurts!" being "shut up" or "you can take it" is TOP TIER I CANT HANDLE IT I CANT BREATHE

BAHAHAHA thank u thank u i am glad you enjoy it (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟit is veryyy sexy hehehe <33

[staywhore]

countdown to midnight

felix x reader

word count: 2009

genre: smut with a hint of angst?! (my first attempt so be nice)

warnings: friends to lovers, hot hot hot takeout sesh, biting, slight angst if you can call it that.

an: sorry there's not a lot here! this is part one of two so look forward to the next update to see what happens (eye emoji) I hope everyone had an amazing new year! I love you all, thank you so much for supporting me this past year despite my hiatus.

taglist: @mingigoo @ravenjoongie @wickeddarkness-place @whatudowhennooneseesyou @teezers99 @mirror-juliet

new years confession part one click here for part two

~

You ducked fast as a mis-shapen ball of snow is hurled towards your head. A pang of adrenalin strikes right through your heart despite the fact that there now is a small smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. You clutch the ball of snow in your beige mitten and prepare to throw it back at your attacker. Risking a quick look you see that he has his back turned to you and you take your chance to make your move. You quickly stand and throw the snowball with as much force as you can muster to ensure it makes its mark. Watching as the non lethal projectile flies across the imagined battlefield, you see as it connects with the neck of your blonde attacker. His head moves forward with impact, causing him to look as though he’s bowing. 

He turns to you with a shocked look on your face. The laughter fills your mind until you can’t help but fold as it erupts from you. With tears now in your eyes and the look on his face on loop in your mind, you don’t notice that the man is now running towards you. You look up right before he makes contact with you. His arms wrapping around your waist lifting you up slightly before you feel yourself falling backwards. You can’t help but let out a little scream at the feeling of falling. He tackles you into a pile of snow that previously was your attempt at a snowman before the snowball fight ensued. 

“How does it feel to lose to a girl?” You say a little out of breath from the adrenalin still pumping rapidly throughout your body. You can’t help but smile as you look up and see a matching grin paired with that oh-so-familiar sparkle of mischief in his deep brown eyes. The former flicks back and forth a few times from your eyes to your mouth. He just lets out a short throaty laugh as a response. 

“Are you going to let me get up?” You say, starting to feel the weight of his stare. His hand reaches out and he brushes some snowflakes that are collecting on your eyelashes. 

Felix has been your friend for three years now. You’ve stayed friends through drunken calls, colds, and breakups. Of course you’ve noticed his impeccable beauty. His deep brown eyes that glow in the sunlight giving the illusion of having dark chocolate for irises. The freckles that are splattered across his nose, cheeks, and a few on his forehead; it’s as if an artist took his brush and placed each one specifically. His full pink lips that you have only ever seen turned down in frustration or anger a handful of times. He is the image of beauty to you. Yet in these past two, nearly three, years you never let your feelings manifest into anything stronger. You’ve seen the girls he has dated, you look nothing like them. So you keep your love for him platonic, and lock up anything less deep within your heart. 

His gentle touch threatens to bring your bubbling feelings to the surface. The soft material of his gloved fingers moved from your closed eyes onto your cheeks, that are no longer flushed because of the cold. Sometimes you think he’s looking at you as more than a friend, but the thought leaves you quickly. Despite what happened a year ago. 

“I’m quite comfortable actually.” The corner of his lips turn up in challenge to your question. 

~

It was New Years Eve, everyone was drinking and having a good time playing games and sharing stories. Felix had not left you alone for the entirety of the evening, not that that was unusual. Usually you stick to each other’s side, but something was different. If you stepped out of arm's reach of him you could feel his stare following you throughout the apartment. Eventually you decided to ask what the fuck is up. 

You pulled him off to one of the two bathrooms in yours and your friends shared apartment. It just happened to be the smaller of the two, just enough room for a sink, toilet, and a small shower encased by frosted glass. Not totally realizing that we are now nearly chest to chest as you look up to him to confront him. 

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” You say a little too loud, noting to lower your volume from now on. 

“Nothing’s wrong y/n.” He says without looking at you. Seemingly focused on a very interesting spot on the wall no doubt. 

“Bull shit Felix.” Attempting to cross your arms at your chest, but can’t successfully without touching him. It feels weird to touch him tonight. You can’t figure out why. “You have been acting strange all evening.” You settle with placing your hands on your hips. 

After a few beats of silence Felix finally looks at you. He seems to be searching for something in your face. His chocolate eyes flicking to the different parts of your face. An unspoken emotion hanging in the air between the two of us. Maybe it’s the seclusion, or maybe it’s the drinks finally working their way into your system, but tonight he looks different. Your eyes dared a look at his lips, quickly looking back up to his eyes. His pupils dilated.

“Felix..” Now he looked at your lips as you spoke, but he wasn’t quick to look away like you were. He leaned forward causing you to step back hitting the wall. “What is wr-” He cuts you off with a finger shushing your lips. 

“Y/n, I know you feel it two.” You could feel yourself pale. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about Felix.” 

“I know this is sudden y/n, maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact that it’s new years eve, but I want to kiss you tonight.. I want you and I don’t wanna hide it anymore.” His hands found their way to your face, tilting it back slightly. Your mouth was suddenly dry and eyes wide at the confession. 

“But.. I- I didn’t think I was your type?” You barely manage to get your words out. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life y/n.” Past the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears you can hear your friends call for you. 

“It’s nearly midnight.” Your response to his second confession. 

“I know y/n.” He continues to stare down at you. Trapping you against the cool wall and his hard body. “I’d like to kiss you if you’ll let me.” 

Mind racing. You swear he could hear your heart beating. Your eyes roamed over his face, looking for any sign of deception. You could hear your friends starting their count down into the new year. 

"10"

"9"

"8"

"7"

"6"

"5"

"4"

"3"

“Kiss me felix.” His lips crashed onto yours as your friends finished counting down, and cheered as they rang the new year in. Hands found their way into your hair, pulling slightly, causing you to gasp. He took his chance to kiss you deeper. Felix consumed you wholly. His tongue explored your mouth as he continued to deepen the kiss. His hands roaming further down your body. They moved from your hair to your neck, then shoulders, and smoothed down your back softly causing you to shiver. Your own found their way to his shaggy blonde hair. 

Finally snapping from your stupor you tug at his locks softly. He moans into your mouth, sending a bolt of arousal directly to your core. So you pull harder. This time he growls as his grip on your ass tightens. He spins the two of you around so your back is now to the sink, lifting you, you now are sitting on the lip of the sink; wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. His hand slid from your ass to your waist, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. A silent request for permission, you respond by taking your nails to his broad shoulders and running them along his clothed skin. Cool fingertips slid up your skin sending goosebumps to your arms. The further north his hands went, the deeper your nails dug into his shoulders. 

He breaks away from the kiss to look into your eyes. His own half lidded with arousal looking at your lips that are no doubt plumped and a deeper shade of pink from the kiss. He lets out a deep breath before he leans in to kiss you gently. Staring at your lips then going to your nose and forehead. Moving to your neck where he places pepperings of kisses that once again cause you to shiver. All while his fingers are running along your rib cage, and just under the fabric of your bra. As his hands move up taking the silky material of your shirt with him he bites your earlobe. 

Pulling your shirt over your head he leans back slightly to take a full look at you. Chest heaving and knuckles gone white from the grip you have on the sink. One hand goes to your neck to pull you back into a deep kiss. His lips run down your neck this time he’s not so gentle. He leaves bite marks in his wake. Each time he sucks your skin you let out a little moan, and the next time he sucks a little harder. He does the same thing to your chest. Teasing you as he plays with the edge of our bra, not quite going underneath the fabric. 

“Please Felix.” You say breathlessly. He obeys and reaches behind to unhook your bra. The feel of it sliding against your skin only heightens your arousal. Without hesitation he takes one of your nipples into your mouth and sucks it. It was a struggle to not scream at the sensation. 

“F-felix.. Fuck.” You moan as he releases the first with a pop and moves to the second. Your hands find their way to his head once more, tugging as he moans around your breast. Your abs begin to burn trying to keep you balanced on the ledge. Releasing the second with a pop he looks up at you, this time with fire in his eyes. 

“Y/n…” Right before he can say anything else the handle to the door jiggles, shortly followed by a pounding fist. 

“Hey open up! I gotta piss.” Someone who sounds an awful lot like a drunken changbin shouts from the other side of the door. Heat instantly rushes to your face as you push Felix off of you and quickly try to make yourself decent. 

“Be right out.” You stammer, frantically searching for your shirt. Seriously, where did that thing go in such a small space! Only stopping when Felix's hands cup your face once more, causing you to look up at him. He looked like he had a lot to say, but he leaned in to kiss you. Flinching back not wanting to seem any more suspicious than you probably already have to the party, you regretted it immediately. The hurt that flashed across his beautiful features stung you. 

“Felix.. I didn’t-” He turned away from you picking up your shirt and handed it to you, his silence was deadly. He waited until you readied yourself, tucking you behind him while he opened the door. 

Feeling awkward and embarrassed you hid out in your room until the last of your party guests left, feigning a headache. Curled up in your bed scrolling through your phone, when Felix’s name pops onto your screen. 

[sorry for tonight y/n] Another ding sounds 

[maybe we should just stay friends, go back to the way things were before tonight] it’s almost as if a knife went straight through your heart. With tears in your eyes you begin to reply, but you can’t find any words so you just turn your phone over and quietly cry yourself to sleep.

[somewherebetweendisorder]

A muffled giggle fills the air, hushed, choked as it's swiftly silenced. Usually, you would ignore it, knowing Eddie is prone to outbursts, but he left to shower forty-five minutes ago and still has yet to return from the bathroom. Standing, you stretch, reaching your arms above your head, groaning when your back clicks. Immediately you miss the warmth of Eddie's bed. Still, suspicion is winning an unspoken battle against your comfort, propelling you towards the tiny bathroom, yellow light spilling in an oily pool beneath the door. It's nearly silent inside the cramped bath, save for the rickety hum of the vent, until a hiss sounds from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a can of cool whip; the shake and spray sounds are nearly unmistakable. It takes a moment for it to click before you shove the door open.

"Are you using my hair stuff again?"

It was meant as a joke, your voice light, teasing. This has been a recurring issue, so you hadn't been expecting any real trouble, that is until you saw the endless amount of white fluff that Eddie had squirted out of the can.

"Oh, shit."

The words are whispered as he hastily tries to hide his hand full of your new hair product behind his back. It's a foaming mousse you had been pining after for months, finally caving to buy yourself a can yesterday.

"Eddie Munson, do you have any idea how much that shit costs?!"

"Okay, babe, listen. Before you get mad-"

"We're already past that, Munson."

His eyes are wide, pleading, a tiny smile tugging at his lips despite himself, still humored by the mess he's currently hiding behind his back.

"I'm sorry." The smile slips from his face just long enough to make the apology seem genuine, but then he's shoving his hand in your face and grinning again. "But look!"

In his palm are three large globs of foam, stacked one atop another like a snowman. He's giggling again, moving his hand to make the creation jiggle, sending him into further hysterics.

"Jesus, Munson, you are a child." You aren't mad. How could you be? It's super wasteful, but you can worry about that later.

Right now, your focus is on the man across from you, wavy hair damp and plastered to his head, yet to be touched by the mousse. "Are you actually going to use it though?"

He blinked slowly as though the thought hadn't crossed his mind until now. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

The sigh that breezes past your lips is heavy, affectionate, but weary just the same. "Oh, Eds. C'mon let me help. No need to let it go to waste."

You dip your fingers into the foam, starting at his roots and massaging it into his thick hair. His eyelids flutter closed, lips parting in innocent pleasure, enjoying the plainly intimate gesture.

It's nothing new, you show your love often this way, but it never ceases to catch him off guard. The thought that someone can love him this way. The fact that someone does.

The supply in his hands is endless, with way too much leftover even after you've sectioned off his hair and meticulously applied the product. He watches your lips purse, teeth toying gently with the flesh as you try to figure out what to do with the rest. It's sweet, has his mind spiraling down a different path, something to thank you with when you're finished taking care of him.

"Just add the rest. It can't hurt, right? I mean, my hair will just be extra glamorous."

Your brow furrows as you think over his words, nodding slowly. It probably wouldn't hurt, at least not much.

"I'm so mad you did this. I will never forgive you."

You ignore his pout, working your fingers through his hair in the same path as before, not stopping him from dotting kisses along your jaw, down your neck, across your collar bone peeking out of his shirt.

"'M sorry. Was just too much fun."

When the last glob is worked carefully into the ends of his hair, you take a step back and squint. His dark locks are tinted white from the abundance of thick foam, looking almost gray. He spares a glance in the mirror and snorts.

"I have the hair of an old man."

"A glamorous old man. At least there's that."

He's distracted again, his lips finding your skin, teeth nipping at the soft pulse in your neck, hands settling on your hips.

"C'mon. I have to thank you for saving me from the abominable foam monster."

"Oh, is that right?" Your voice pitches high, breathy as he sinks his teeth in, leaving a mark.

"Yeah. That okay?"

You pull his head away from your neck, avoiding his overly saturated hair. His eyes are wide, dark, pupils already blown just at the thoughts bouncing around in his head. Who are you to deny him the satisfaction?

"More than okay. Lead the way, Munson."

[ghostofthemost141]

Pretty Pt. 2

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt.3

Art goes credit to @ave661 !! Check out their blog they do amazing work!!

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 1,523

Themes: Angst, Self Loathing, Little Fluff

About: Finding a far away refugee that has a cure for the zombie virus, you and Task Force 141 pack up your zombified boyfriend and head up North.

Notes: Some folks were asking for a part two of this so here it is! Will be making a part three as well. Hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @20rianwe @httpjiikook

“You know where I wanna go?” 

“Where, love?” 

“Up North.” I answer, craning my neck to look up at Simon. 

“Well where up North?” Simon asked, feeling his fingers run through my hair. 

“I don’t know. Maybe somewhere with mountains, I just want to see some snow. Play with it, make a snowman, hit you with a snowball.” I half joked, making Simon laugh. 

“A snowball fight, aye?” 

“Yes sir. I can take ya.” I taunted, leaning in close to him. 

Simon’s blue pearly eyes were my favorite thing to get lost in. It was as if there was a whole galaxy in there. 

“Can you though?” 

“We will just have to see when we go up there.” I say, laying my head down on his soft, plushy chest. 

“I’ll take ya up there, love. I promise. Once we go home from this mission, we will start planning for it.” Simon promised. 

“I’ll hold you to that promise then.” I said. 

Simon leaned down, his soft lips landing on my forehead and he wrapped his arm, the one with the tattoo sleeve, around me and squeezed me tight. 

“I love ya, Dolly.” 

“I love you too, Si.” 

…

…

…

“Doolllyyyyyy..” 

“I’m right here, Simon.” I called  him through the incubator. 

I pressed my hand up against the glass and he attempted to do the same. 

“We are nearly there, Dolly.” Price called from up front. 

“‘Kay.” I said. 

We were about two hours into our trip and had about two more hours left. I didn’t even have to ask but Price would update me every once in a while on how much longer we had left and even though we were making progress, it felt like time was going slow. I just wanted my Simon back and I know they can’t go any faster that they are right now due to the falling snow, but I just wish we could get there sooner. Price and Gaz were in the front seats while Johnny and I were in the big trunk storage area of this military vehicle with Simon in the incubator. 

“I wonder if you being in the room those many times helped him recognize ya.” Johnny commented. 

“Maybe.” I reply, not taking my eyes off of Simon. 

Even though he freaked out yesterday when Johnny and them busted into my room, he is now settled into doing low growls and moans anytime they speak. I can tell that the guys secretly wish Simon recognized them, but they wouldn’t say it outloud. I get it though, they have known and worked with Simon longer than I have so I understand. Especially Johnny. Even though Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, he and Johnny were the closest with each other ever since their mission to stop Hassan. That was before my time but you can tell they are good friends, even though making friends is something you want to avoid in this line of work due to anything happening at any given moment. 

“Ghost is the toughest son of a bitch I have ever worked with.” Gaz commented from up front. 

“Heh, you’re not wrong about that.” I said. 

Simon once got shot in six different places and yet kept fighting until all of the enemies were down. I don’t know how he managed to do that but he did. I know that deep inside his mind it is him, I mean why else would he be saying my non-legal name that is said more than my real one? It makes sense, right? Simon then turned his head towards Johnny, his clouded eyes staring into his soul. 

 “And I thought his normal death glare was scary.” Johnny commented, half joking. 

I humored him by laughing, even though I wasn’t in too much of a giggly mood. 

“Jrrrrr…” 

“That’s new.” Price said. 

It sounded like he was making a ‘Jr’ kind of noise, which is odd. It immediately made me think he was trying to say Johnny’s name. Ghost then held his hand up weakly and pressed it up against the glass, staring directly into Johnny’s direction. 

“Joohhnnnnyyyyyy..” 

“Simon?” Johnny called to Simon, getting close to the incubator glass. 

He really is still there. Oh God, Simon. Simon. It’s all coming back to me. 

~

“Get that back area!!” Price shouted as more zombies flooded in from the back. 

“Shit.” I mumbled, shooting them down. 

It was nonstop flooding of zombies, as if they were infinitely spawning in. This was a bad spot to even be trying to scavenge supplies. I’m the one who suggested it in the first place. 

“Dolly, stay close to me.” Simon told me. 

I huddled close to him as we continued to take out more zombies. The five of us were all huddled close by as we slowly tried to make our way to the exit of the building but it was so hard with all of the zombies coming from every direction. 

*Click* *Click* *Click*

“I’m out!” I heard my empty gun clicking. 

“Take this.” Simon tried handing me an extra pistol. 

“What about your shotgun? It will be more powerful.” I suggested. 

“Dolly just please do as I damn say.” 

I could tell he was getting irritated, so I just sucked it up. As I began shooting at the different zombies, it was taking more than five or six rounds at a time to take down a zombie and they were coming at us faster and faster. I needed something more powerful. Like Simon’s shotgun that was strapped on his back. I don’t want to disobey him, but we are nearly to the exit and we need this last bit of strong power in order to reach it. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck it. 

FUCK IT!! 

“Dolly, what are you-” 

*BAM*

…

…

…

..Dolly!!!

…

…

GET UP!!!

What? What? What’s happening? I can’t hear, I can’t see, what is happening? 

“DOLLY!!”

Simon? Simon..SIMON!!

“Simon!” I called for him, despite not being able to see. 

I felt two big arms grab me, lift me up to my feet, throw my arm on their shoulder, and drag me out. 

“The place is going down!” I heard Gaz shout. 

I couldn’t really hear anymore zombies growling but I could hear the place crumbling all around and then get very distant the more we ran. 

“Stay with me, love, stay with me.” Simon’s gravelly voice told me. 

“Simon..Simon..I’m sorry.” I croaked out. 

“No, no Dolly. It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault. “ Simon reassured me, despite still feeling the immense guilt in my gut. 

“Step up, Dolly.” Simon told me. 

I lifted my leg up, and felt my foot land on the step of our transport truck, and take off. As we all settled down, and caught our breaths, I felt a cold fabric get placed on my forehead. 

“It’s me, sweetie.” 

Simon. I immediately held his hand that was holding the wet cloth, seeing my vision become clearer, slowly. 

“Si, I’m sorry I just-” 

“Dolly, please. You were doing only what you thought was right.” Simon reassured me, his bright blue eyes staring into mine. 

His eyes were so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Just a month ago we were laying in bed together, waking up to us holding each other and those bright blue eyes being my first greeting of the day. And now here we are, comforting me in wake of my stupid mistake. I hated myself for this. Even though I wanted to keep staring into his eyes, something else caught my eye. Something that made my heart stop. It was a piercing red, sticking out like a sore thumb on his shoulder. No. No, it can’t be. There’s no way that’s..

“Simon.” 

“What, love?” 

“Your-” 

“We’re here.” 

The sudden screeching halt of the truck knocked me out of my flashback. I swear just a minute ago Price said we had two hours left of the trip and here we are, parked in front of a big huge metal automatic gate. There were guards on top of the pillars with guns. They weren’t aiming their guns at us, but they were most definitely on guard. 

“He said he would be here.” Price mumbled. 

“Who?” I asked. 

“Outta my way, outta my way! I’m coming, I’m coming!!” 

There was a man shouting from the other side of the gate, and the voice sounded so familiar. It can’t be..

“Let them in!!” 

Without hesitation, the guards pulled a lever and the two big metal gates started slowly ascending open. Once it was opened enough, Price let go of the brakes and we slowly started pulling into the sanctuary. Once in, Price stopped and a man walked up to the driver’s side. 

“Thanks for letting us come ‘ere.” Price thanked him. 

I turned my head to get a better look as to who it was, the kind samaritan that allowed us to come here and get a cure for Simon. 

“Friends help each other.” 

He turned to look at me and gave me a beaming smile, a smile that reassured me that everything would be okay. 

Alejandro? 

TO BE CONTINUED…

[descaladumidera]

“Nobody Asked About My Writing” Meme

I got tagged by the wonderful @amethyst-noir, so you all get unnecessary infos about my current WIPs thrown in your face. And as I am, currently, able to write and share my fics, I shall even do this meme.

Answers below the cut, 'cause this got long.

 1. what are you currently working on?

I have three WIPs right now that I'm actively working on. Which. Is insane. 'Cause usually I have one and then I might throw a one-shot in-between writing chapters. But. Yeah. So, today I've finished the next chapter of like lead in my heart and I'm about to edit it. I've also started the sequel to give it 'til i beg (give me some more), so … I'll hopefully finish that at one point, so my Fratt peers get more juicy dom/sub action. And then I have started to actually write a little something that I've only thrown into a Discord before in the form of a quick idea. It's titled Five Times Frank Fucks Matt From Behind and One Time He Wants to See Matt's Face. Yes. That short. So. Yeah. I'm currently writing the first chapter, but have outlines for all the chapters.

2. summarize your current project

like lead in my heart: NWH rewrite with a twist. Local horned vigilante takes on a more prominent role in Peter's life during the events of NWH and after. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: Matt tries to avoid Frank after what happened in the first part. He is not very good at that. Five Times: Exactly what it says on the tin. Frank fucks Matt five times from behind and the last time he wants to see his face.

3. summarize your current project poorly

like lead in my heart: Local horned vigilante gets too involved in teenager's life. And then he fucks the teenager's doppelganger. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: Too embarrassed to function and also too horny to function. Five Times: Too much fucking, not enough talking.

4. describe your favorite character or characters

Matt Murdock: Gets fucked over by life and personal bad choices again and again and again. Needs some hugs and lots of therapy. He also has very interesting alternate versions from other dimensions. Frank Castle: Got fucked over by life royally, meaning his wife and kids died in front of his eyes. Decided the best coping mechanism is killing the scum of the earth. Also needs therapy. I don't recommend hugging him, though.

5. post a line from your current project without any context

like lead in my heart, chapter 8: Peter needed Tony Stark, not Matt Murdock. give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel: And then he had jumped out of the window, like the mature adult he was. Five Times: Things like this were never planned.

6. how do you get through writers block?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

7. would you want to live in the world of your current work?

Abso-fucking-lutely not! The Marvel universe gets attacked approximately every 0.2 seconds by something or someone that can kill me and my loved ones with one thought and I would rather eat chalk.

8. briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline

I do not outline. Outlining means that my brain goes, "Oh! So we're done with this one, onto the next idea!" and I'll never write it. The only "outlines" I do are when I ramble on about an idea in a Discord or to friends and then decide to flesh it out and write it.

9. what is the aesthetic of your current project?

I. I don't know what that means? I mean, like lead in my heart is kinda action and found family and romance and everything all in one, I guess? The other two are basically PWP, more or less. Maybe there is a bit of plot.

10. what song sums up your current work the best?

like lead in my heart

give it 'til i beg (give me some more) sequel

Five Times Frank Fucks Matt From Behind and One Time He Wants to See Matt's Face

Tagging: @atypical-snowman, @jeromesankaraao3, and @kimmycup. And whoever else wants to do this!

[aardvark-123]

~The Silver-Heart Chronicles Part 5: From Dawnstar With Grudging Tolerance~

Yngvar was moving to the coastal city of Dawnstar. Adelaisa was also moving to Dawnstar. Sharing a boat seemed better than paying two fares, so Yngvar sat on his worries, enjoyed the cool, salty breeze and the cries of the seagulls as Gor rowed them along the coast. They'd be going their separate ways soon; no more getting dragged into adventures against his will.

"Well, did you enjoy the trip?" Yngvar asked as he clambered out of the boat.

"It's a far cry from the boats I'm used to, but it was smooth sailing. Thank you for taking us, Captain," said Adelaisa, smiling at Gor.

Gor went bright red. He'd never been called a captain before.

"I think I'll go and see what's on in town," declared Yngvar. "You have your horker meat imports to think about, right, Adelaisa? In that case, I won't hold you up. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye, Windhelm!" Adelaisa waved southeast and followed Yngvar into the city.

Delighted to be free of her at last, Yngvar skipped down the snowy roads and planky walkways that ran through Dawnstar. Step one would be to find the inn, of course, and step two to find out if anyone was handing out free sweetrolls. Step three would be to look for work. He'd never reached step four before, but the catnip and the netch leather helmet stayed in his bag for when the moment came.

Step one was easy. The Windpeak Inn was right on the eastern slopes. Step two turned up nothing as usual. Then came step three, and Yngvar's heart sank when he realised that the city was home to two mines.

"Oh... Iron-Breaker Mine, you say? What's wrong with them?" Yngvar asked.

"What ISN'T wrong with them?!" snapped Leigelf. "The owner's a coward! A selfish, snivelling, arrogant, lowly little harpy who doesn't know what's good for her, wouldn't know what to do if Zenithar handed her a mountain of septims! All the dregs of Dawnstar come to work for her and none of them deserve any better! Anyway, I'll pay you handsomely for any quicksilver you can dig up."

It wasn't exactly the culmination of a lifelong dream, but being paid handsomely sounded good for his first afternoon in Dawnstar. The stout, bare-chested miner certainly did not influence him in the slightest. So Yngvar readied the pickaxe he'd borrowed from Narzulbur and ventured inside.

"Are you having fun? Your elbow action looks a bit off-centre," said Adelaisa.

"Aaaaaargh!" screamed Yngvar, dropping his pickaxe on his foot. "Ow! Wh-what are you doing here?! I th-thought you were- were doing your business deal with the horkers and the, with the Dawnstar and things! Why are you following me?!"

"Well, it's only my first day in the city," Adelaisa explained. "I'm not sure who to contact about horker meat. When we're together, though, something interesting always seems to happen before too long."

"Gods give me strength," groaned Yngvar.

Yngvar left Quicksilver Mine tired and a little richer. Adelaisa abandoned the snowman she'd been making and ran after him. Dawnstar was a quiet city, and it wasn't long before they found some workers talking outside another mine.

"Horkers, you say?" Yngvar said innocently. "Why, what's the problem with Quicksilver mine? The horker foreman had nothing but kind words for the rest of Dawnstar's mineral economy."

Adelaisa sighed wistfully. "If they actually had horkers down there, I'd be ahead of the game..."

Beitild looked at Yngvar. Then she looked at Adelaisa. Then she looked at Yngvar again. "Did you two walk out of a Riekling nursery? No, don't answer that. I don't care."

"Quicksilver Mine is no more than a selfish fathead's pipe dream! The owner doesn't care about anything other than taking big, stupid risks for big, stupid profits, doesn't matter what we could have- What he stands to lose." Beitild sighed. "Quicksilver sells better than iron, he says. Well, who'd choose a shiny lump of quicksilver over good, solid iron?! Anyway, I'll pay for any iron you dig up, if you're interested."

Yngvar raised his eyebrows. "Well, as a matter of fact, I was thinking about getting some mining practice in today... Want to prospect for horkers, Adelaisa?"

"Don't patronise me!" Adelaisa shoved him and folded her arms. "I'm well aware that horkers make their burrows in the sand. What I need is a business partner who's selling the meat."

"Feel like helping?" Yngvar grunted as he excavated a seam of iron.

"No, I need to save my strength. I'm going to try digging for horkers on the beach tomorrow."

While Adelaisa went shopping for a spade, Yngvar ordered them some foot and a couple of beds in the Windpeak Inn. "As far away from each other as possible, please," he requested. "In different buildings would be fine."

Thoring, the innkeeper, sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what you and your wife have been arguing about, but trust me, pushing her away won't make your lives any better. You have to talk and learn to make compromises, even if it means swallowing some of your pride."

Yngvar blinked slowly. "Er, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, do you want to end up like Beitild and Leigelf?! They used to be so close until this mining thing came between them. They couldn't agree on whether to buy one of the mines east of the bay, or sell it, I'm not sure, but the feud consumed them like a fire! And now it's like they're sworn enemies."

"But I'm not married to Adelaisa," Yngvar said in a small voice.

"Now, I know what I'm talking about." Thoring sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I used to be married, you know. And sure, we argued sometimes, but now I just miss her... For the gods' sakes, don't let that happen to you and Adelaisa while you're both still alive!"

"You heard me say Adelaisa's name but not the part where we aren't actually married?!" Yngvar grabbed Thoring by the shoulders. "Stop hearing only what you want to hear! Shor gave you two ears, so use-"

"What are you doing?! Leave him alone!" A ginger-haired woman came running over with a lute. She bashed Yngvar over the head with her instrument and, leaving him dazed on the floor, pulled Thoring into her arms.

"I know it hurts, Father. I miss her too, every day," the bard said softly. "But some people are... Well, relationships can be sore for them. And I know it isn't right, I know it isn't fair when a couple can't even sleep side by side-"

"You don't know!" Thoring pushed her away. "He doesn't know what he and Adelaisa, over there with the spade, have! People never realise what matters until they lose it..." He slumped down on the counter with his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Karita, I... I know you're trying to help."

"How do you know that's Adelaisa and not some other woman with a shovel?! How do you know what she looks like?!" demanded Yngvar, gesturing to a confused Adelaisa standing in the doorway with her metal digging implement.

"Don't try and change the subject," Karita said severely. "Do you need me to take over for tonight, Father? It's all right if you don't feel up to working."

"I'll be fine. But... Maybe I do need to rest for a bit," sighed Thoring. "This gentleman was just ordering a couple of beds for the night... Separate ones for him and his wife."

"Oh. Don't worry, I'll take care of it." Karita turned to Yngvar. "Sooooo, you and Adelaisa fell out. I'm sorry to hear it, but you can't always make everything the innkeeper's problem!"

"Does no-one in Skyrim listen to anyone but themselves?!" scoffed Yngvar. "The sheer pig-headedness! It beggars belief."

Karita pursed her lips. "Whatever you think of your wife, don't cause any more trouble in our inn. I have a trombone. As long as that's understood, it's twenty gold, and I think you paid for the food already..."

"What's this about Yngvar's wife?" asked Adelaisa, wandering over with her spade on her shoulder. Yngvar put his head in his hands and silently cursed the Divines.

"Oh, er..." Karita looked sheepish. "I heard that the two of you fell out earlier. I was just telling your... Just telling Yngvar to mind his behaviour in the inn."

Adelaisa blinked. "It was hardly a falling-out! We were just at cross-purposes over horkers. Although I will admit I lost my temper a bit back there." Her expression softened. "I didn't hurt your feelings, did I, Yngvar? It's just that you sounded like you were treating me like an idiot, and that's... I know you didn't mean it."

"Do you?" Yngvar laughed shakily. "I'm glad! Because horkers don't burrow! They live out on the beaches."

"Are you sure?" said Adelaisa, her brow furrowing. "That sounds more like mudcrabs to me."

"Very sure! Everybody from the north knows what a horker looks like," scoffed Yngvar. "And where they sleep." His look softened. "But you aren't from the north, are you?"

Adelaisa shook her head. "I'm from Applewatch originally."

"Maybe I was being unfair," Yngvar said quietly. "If you haven't seen a horker, much less hunted one for its meat... How would you know?"

"That's exactly the problem," said Adelaisa. "I haven't been in Skyrim for long. After Japhet's Folly, they decided to give me another big assignment up here, but getting into the horker business isn't going to be an easy egg to crack."

"I should imagine not." Yngvar considered for a moment whether he really wanted to encourage her, and there could only be one answer. He smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "But you've cracked some fearsome eggs before, haven't you, Vendicci? You'll crack this one in time. I know you will."

Adelaisa's whole face brightened. "You know what? You're absolutely right! I am a good soldier slash businesswoman, and an egg can only take so many taps from a spoon. I'll sort this out soon enough."

"So..." Karita cleared her throat. "If there's nothing else you need, I've given you the double bed up there on the right. There are a couple of end tables which fit nicely in front of the door if you need some privacy."

Karita's voice dropped to a whisper. "And if you do need something- a potion of fortify stamina, say, or a netch leather helmet- we might be able to arrange that. Just try not to destroy the bed."

"I'm sleeping outside," declared Yngvar, pushing past Adelaisa and out towards the door. "Good night, everyone! See you tomorrow!"

[kellbellsparkles]

FFVII Sterling Silver (Pilot Part 1)

I call it a Pilot because not only am I practicing my literary skills, I've been going through so much trauma in my life currently, it takes away my motivation to really create.

I wanted to introduce my fan version of Cloud and Tifa's kids: twins Sterling and Silver. Approximately three years after Dirge of Cerberus, Cloud is protectively raising them while their mother is comatose from a robbery on Seventh Heaven where the ring leader had a gun loaded with mako infused bullets. She was pregnant when it happened, but like with Lucrecia, the inherited Jenova cells won't let them die. The babies gained incredible power as a result and are under the protection of their father and Shinra.

I hope you guys enjoy it. I want to spread joy and inspiration so others can have a better day.

It was a blustery winter night in the city of Edge. At three in the morning, two special toddlers were up far past their bedtime: two-year-old twins, Sterling and Silver Strife. They were special because they inherited mako and Jenova cells from their father, but they were at an alarming high level. The boy, Sterling, possessed great intelligence and awareness. From being a fetus, the Jenova cells incorporated memories and knowledge of both his parents. The girl, Silver, possessed great physical ability and flexibility. 

Having a higher concentration of mako, she had been born with a series of mutations outer and inner. She underwent many surgeries from infancy to give her a normal human appearance: a scar on the left side of her neck where a second mouth once sat, scar tissue on the top tips of her ears after being trimmed down, a ring scar from when teeth were removed from her belly button, and two parallel scars shaped like tiny beads on the back of her neck aligned with her spine where two teeny eyes once blinked. Her internal organs were significantly altered, having two hearts instead of one as an example. Her bones can shift and bend in any way imaginable, encouraging her hyperactivity and bravery.

She easily scaled her crib bars and stuck the landing. As she trotted towards her brother, Sterling laid wide awake, blankly staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were consumed with memories of his mother being shot with a mako infused bullet; the bullet piercing the womb containing Silver; a voice offering his aid to save her in exchange for becoming a part of him; coming into the world; being brought to his comatose mother for the first time... The poor little boy knew too much and had no one to tell. He feared disappointing his father after hearing him say he wanted his kids to live a normal life, so he abstained from speaking to the fullest.

"Psssst," Silver whispered. "Steeeewiiiing." 

Silver's voice pulled him back into reality. Though startled, he turned on his side to face her. "Yeah?"

Silver grabbed his crib bars and hopped happily on her little feet.

"It snowing outside!" she squeed. "Come see!"

Sterling sat up to view the window with the curtains folded open for them. The snow twirled and performed a glistening waltz. However, one detail stood out to Sterling.

"It's still nighttime," he said. "What time is it?"

"I dunno," Silver said innocently. She stood on her toes. "But come on! Let's build a snowman!"

"Right now?"

"Yeah, yeah! Deh gonna be mountains and mountains!"

Sterling sat up and stretched drowsily. "If it's JUST snowing, there won't be mountains and mountains. We'll have a better chance in the morning."

"But dad will be gone away on his vroom vroom in the morning!" Silver whined. "I wanna supise him nooooow!"

Sterling blinked in perplexion. "Surprise?"

Silver toddler sprinted to their door. With her strengthened legs, she squatted and hopped, successfully grabbed hold of the knob and turned it. 

"Aw, geez," Sterling mouthed. He knew that without him, great peril could befall his unheeding sister. He used his inherited strength to climb out of his crib and cried out, "Wait for me, Sil!" However, his scrambled brain prevented him from a coordinated landing; he stumbled and belly flopped instead. "Ouch…." 

Silver, though impulsive, still put her brother first. She hurried to his side, helped him onto his feet, and said, "You okay? That looked like big ouch."

"I'll be okay," Sterling reassured her. "Thank you."

"Okay!" Silver grabbed Sterling's hand and led him out into the hall. "Let's go!" 

Sterling could only follow and entertain her fanatic imagination. Then, together, they stood at the top of the stairs.

"We this much steps to be gwown ups!" Silver declared. "Follow me!" She let go of Sterling to lead by example. "One step." One little foot down, followed by the other. "Two step."

"You're not using the rails," Sterling said shakily as he looked on with fertilizing anxiety.

"Daddy doesn't use the rails," Silver retorted, eyes peeled forward as she marched on. "Thee step. Five step."

"You skipped four again."

Silver responded with a sound fart. Sterling furrowed his brows.

"I know that one was on purpose," he vexed.

"Ya," Silver said shamelessly. Sterling's nose wrinkled upon picking up Silver's reply.

"Ewwww," he grimaced. "You better not have been eating any more garbage." 

Another of Silver's mutations included being able to consume anything without harmful affliction. 

"We eat cheesy peppewooni pizza tonight, remember?" she told him. "And eating gabage is fee ceaning service and colletive contibootion to socytee."

"It's still bad for you," Sterling argued.

"Daddy says too much candy, too, but I fine thee more of Denny's candy wappers today." Silver hopped down from the last step. Her feet balleted, propelling her to face her brother in her triumph. "It your turn!!" 

Sterling gulped; Silver had gotten lucky, but one slip from the top to the bottom meant certain death to a baby. He looked behind him, wondering why their dad and Denzel haven't come to stop them by now.

"Steeewiiiiing!" 

Once again, Silver's clinging vocals tugged him along.

"Yikes, I'm coming…." Taking caution, he sat on the top stair and scooted to the next one.

"Why you come down that way?" 

Sterling pondered for an appropriate response to please his rapidly curious sister.

"My, uh, butt itches," he replied sheepishly. 

"Diaper rash?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" 

"Tell me how it feels! I wanna scatch my butt that way, too!"

Sterling blushed. Silver was only behaving as a normal two-year-old should. In Cloud's absence, he felt responsible for setting an example while playing the toddler role."It's not really working. It doesn't get in the right spot."

"Booooooo."

At last, Sterling's tush touched the main floor. He stood himself up. "All that's left is to go outside, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!!" Silver raced to the door and leapt to the knob, only it wouldn't turn like the last one did. She tried multiple times while dangling. "Whaaaa?" 

"Of course," Sterling said, nodding. "It's locked."

"Looooocked???" Silver let go of the knob and plopped down on her back.

"Waaaaah!!" she cried as she flung her limbs about. "I want to go outside and supise Daddy!! Ahaaaaaaawaaaah!" 

Sterling panicked. Instinctively, he hated seeing his beloved sister cry and wanted to do something.

"Aw, don't cry!" he pleaded. "We can…. uh…. draw a snowman!"

"I want a REAL snowman! I wanna supise Daddy and make him happy!! Waaaaaaahaaaaah!!"

Sterling felt a lump rise in his throat; he realized that his sister truly wanted the same thing he did. Their dad would give them soft smiles, but never exuberant, jolly ones that told them he was filled with glee. Sterling knew the burden of memories Cloud carried with him and yearned to alleviate them. He yearned to give him that spark that had been missing throughout the life he'd seen him live: two children and their father frolicking in the winter wonderland in their yard…. 

"Hey, sis…." 

He knelt down to her level and held her hands firm. "There's a way to get outside."

Silver stopped flailing.

"T-There is?" she hiccuped.

Sterling pointed to the lock dial below the knob. "Do you see that gold sideways diamond thingy?"

"Yeah…." 

"All we have to do is turn it right side up and turn the knob after." 

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Silver sat up, sniffling lightly. "Hey, Stewing?"

"Yeah?"

"How are you so smart? And why do you sound like a gwown up? And why do you never talk around Daddy?"

Sterling tensed; he wasn't prepared for his sister to ask him so suddenly. "Well, I…." 

Silver got on her knees and leaned deeply into Sterling's personal space. Sterling struggled to keep from making eye contact, feeling all to tell she would not stop asking, or worse: ask him in front of their dad. "You see, I'm…. not normal…. and Dad wants me to be. If he heard me talking like this, he'd be sad." 

"Boooooooooo." Silver's face became a crumpled piece of paper in the moment. "What even is nohmal? Sounds bowing. I like you betteh this way." 

"But Dad–"

"Why Daddy be sad? Why Daddy be sad when you talk and play?"

"It's not that."

"Then wat?"

Sterling scratched his chin; how to best approach this that would be acceptable to Silver and protect his secret?

Secret…

"It's a secret," he answered with a cute smile. "Do you like secrets?"

Silver's eyes sparkled like party lights for a special occasion. "Ya, ya!"

"It's a special secret that only you can know about. No telling anybody or else it won't be a special secret anymore. Okay?"

"Okay!"

"That's a good girl." 

"We have supah special secwet cub!"

"Yes, we do!"

"Yaay! Now we make ar supah special secwet cub house outside!"

"I thought we were building a snowman."

"We bild ar snowman in cub house!" 

Toddler logic made next to no sense, but it mattered little to Sterling as it warmed his heart seeing his sister have fun. She leapt for the lock handle, but it was too small for her fingers to latch on. She stubbornly hopped and attempted several more times. Sterling came up behind her and lifted her by the waist. 

"Here," he said. "Try turning it to the left, now." 

Mimicking an excited puppy, she panted and squealed as she succeeded in her task. She quivered with glee as she turned the knob next and pulled the door open. Little droplets of snow trickled their way in. She cheered, "We did it!" 

As soon as Sterling set her down, Silver threw the door further open and zoomed outside. Sterling followed, watching as she pranced and skipped merrily. He took his first step into the snow bank; swiftly rose up to his knees.

"Oh my," he breathed, taken aback. "There was more snow than I thought…." 

[girlindelusionn]

i want them all, robin x you (part 2!)

"My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you"

part 1! part 3!

Your hands make their way to Robin’s door before you can even think if it's a good idea. There were only forty minutes till midnight and on a regular night it wouldn't be a problem. You were both night owls, so she would be definitely awake, reading, practicing for band as softly as humanly possible or just daydreaming in general and you would climb to her window like in those really bad cliché movies and you two would spend the insomnia together.

But today it was Christmas eve.

You had to admit, even after the rough start, this awful town wasn't really that bad. A lot had happened in a year, the furniture had come and you’ve made your new room feel almost as good as your old one. You had adopted a cat, Jo, who had lived in your closet. You thought the irony on that was hilarious, for about three weeks till your parents found out and grounded you for a month. You still got to keep her, though. And, honestly, school wasn't that bad. At least not with Robin at your side.

Oh, right! Robin! This past year you had also realized you had feelings –gay feelings– for your best friend. Which was terrifying, excruciating, and every other negative adjective you could ever think of and put you on the worst dilema to ever exist: on the one hand, this stupid crush could not keep growing and developing into more than it already was, so the reasonable option would be to not spend every second of every day with her, like you two were attached to the hip. But, on the other hand, this friendship was the most valuable thing in your life.

You couldn't have her the way you wanted to and you couldn't lose her, so you did what you do best; Repressed the shit out of everything, even getting a boyfriend in the process.

It wasn’t hard. Boys had so much lust on their brains that there was barely any room for them to notice you were not a single bit attracted to them. You said yes to the first one who asked you to prom, his name was Ben, and during the night you bailed on him, saying you had lady problems, to spend the night in the library with Robin. She asked why even go with him in the first place, but you didn't answer. You shrugged and luckily to her it was enough. It wasn't convenient for either of you to start asking questions. Cause if you did then you would've asked why she didn't say yes to Calvin when he asked her to prom, which would have led her to finally admiting she had a thing for fucking Steve "The Hair" Harrington and you just werent in the mood to deal with that.

Luckily the door opens right on time to save you from the spiral you were about to go into, showing a very confused, kinda concerned Mrs Buckley.

"Y/N! C'mon in, it's freezing, sweetie!" She guides you to the kitchen, like she has done multiple times this past year. The decorations make you feel even worse about crashing their dinner, but you're glad to find a picture of little Robin in the hallway, half her face buried in a green scarf, hugging a snowman with the biggest smile you've ever seen.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner like this." you apologize. She makes a 'don't worry' gesture with her hand as she starts to make you a cup of tea.

"It was just us three this year." she says, in hope you feel a little better. "Is everything okay? Robin left with her dad but they should be back any second."

You nod from across the kitchen table and you know she knows you're lying. Your face is red and you're pretty sure you have mascara tears all over you.

"It's just…" you start to talk and immediately regret it, but it's too late now "Um, romantic stuff?"

Mrs Buckley's face lights up. Robin is not very interested in telling her things about her personal life, so she's excited. But she's also kind and warm and doesn't pressure you in any kind of way.

"Bad break up?" she guesses, and you thank the opportunity to take the easy exit.

"Yeah…"

She looks at you with a sad smile, offering you her hand to hold. You accept it and she squeezes your embrace as she says:

"Everything has a reason, Y/N. Everything that is meant to be will happen, and everyone that's meant to be will come back eventually. It's just hard to see the big picture sometimes."

Surprisingly, her words are a lot more accurate to your actual real situation than you expect them to be. It catches you with your guard down, so a single tear manages to escape your watery eyes. Mrs Buckley smiles again and is at this moment when the rest of the family arrives home.

"MOM THEY DIDN'T HAVE THE BLUE CHEESE AND I DIDNT WANNA ASK KYLE CAUSE I'M LIKE NINETY PERCENT SURE HE'S GONNA MURDER ME IN MY SLEEP, A–" yells Robin as she makes her way to the kitchen, a lot of little bags fill her hands. She shuts up when she sees you in her kitchen "Dude, I already know my mom liked you better but this? I–" you turn around to face her and she stops talking when she realizes your state. "Y/N, are you okay?" she adds in a soft, concerned voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'll tell you later. "

You excuse yourself from her parents, Mr Buckley also shoots you a worried look, you assure him that everything is fine –her parents are so sweet, it was almost overwhelming– and you go up to Robin's room.

"It was the idiot of Ben, right?" she asks as soon as you guys are alone. But this time you're not so sure about taking the exit.

Mrs Buckley words were still echoing in your head, if Robin was a person worth it to have in your life then she would be okay with it. Confessing your feelings was clearly off the table, but maybe you could at least come out to her?

You still aren't sure, so you say: "Kinda…"

She shoots you a confused look "Kinda?" and seeing you wouldnt keep talking she adds "What the fuck did he do? Do I have to to break his nose?"

You chuckle a bit from the mental image of that situation. You pictured a very angry, 5'7 Robin yelling to the face of the captain of the basketball team, cursing him in all four languages. And that's exactly what makes you decide to come out to her. You knew with your soul that, if needed to, she would kick his ass, quite literally. Someone who loved you that much would understand.

Right?

"We broke up" you finally confess, going through the room and sitting on your personal spot below the window. Thats where she kept the box with all her mixtapes, so to avoid her stare you start to organize them.

"Really?" She says after a while of silence. Idioms on the right, 60s and 70s on the middle… "Today?"

"Yep" Maybe you could also put them in alphabetical order? But for the artist or for the name of the album? "Over the phone."

"No way!" she says, offended. "Over the fucking phone? He’s an asshole!"

You sight once more and almost decide to give up, coming out wasn't really that necessary, right? But then you find the mixtape you made her for her birthday, two months ago. "Robin and Y/N survive High School '' was the title you'd given it, and you'd even painted a cover with a drawing of one of your favorite pictures together. You really meant everything to each other. There was only twenty minutes left till midnight and she wasn't celebrating, she was here, genuinely concerned about you. So you decide to keep talking, still not sure if it’s a good idea.

"He's not, I am…" you say and she's ready to argue when you explain "I broke up with him. Over the phone. On Christmas Eve. I'm the asshole."

"You broke up with him?" The words are shocking enough to make her stop pacing the room nervously and sit down beside you. "Why?"

All the tapes were perfectly organized now, so there was no way to avoid her eyes anymore. "Cause I didn't like him."

"Why? Did he say something?"

"No! I mean, I don't think I've ever liked him" She just stares at you with confusion in her eyes and all you want is for this moment to be over. "It's not about him! I just don't… like them."

"Who?"

Your heart races, your palms start to sweat and all of your instincts are telling you to run as fast as you can. But you continue:

"Boys…"

And just like that is over. The secret, the one thing you've been keeping as close to your soul as you possibly could, is finally free. You're surprised that you managed to say it out loud and while keeping eye contact. You see her eyebrows go up as her eyes slightly open.

"Really?" She has a weird expression, she isn't mad or disgusted, which is great, but there is something else you can't put your finger on.

"Yeah." you say, and brace yourself for the worst when you see her look away. Maybe she was disgusted.

Maybe it was a mistake, your relationship was fine and now she's gonna be all awkward and weird and it was the stupidest thing ever! What the hell were you even thinking?! You're not in a big city, this is the middle of Hawkins! What kind of reaction were you even expecting?

You take a breath when you notice she wants to say something, not optimistic at the fact that she's still not looking at you. Her gaze is stuck on her shoes, those red converse she had let you fill with dumb doodles. There was one in particular she liked the best, and it always caused fights because, objectically, it was the worst drawn one. It was a little crappy plane, made with black marker, with two little stick figures on top of it, holding hands. And below there you had written "operation croissant, phase one:"

You had talked about running away, it was definitely your biggest desire –especially now, when you've possibly lost the only good thing in this town–, but money was tight and there was no way to do it before finishing highschool. And you still had a year and a half of that bullshit. Also now you'll have to split the money you guys had saved and plan different trips and the idea of running didn't sound half as appealing on your own. An–

"I don't like them either…." she whispers so low you aren't even sure she talked in the first place.

"What?" you also whisper, but loud enough.

"I don't like boys either "

And before you have any time to even start to process that bomb of information you hear a knock on the door.

"I brought juice for the toast!" you hear her mother say. Robin quickly wipes away her own tears and opens the door. "I didn't know if you guys would want t–"

"Thank you, mom. Bye!" She cuts her off. Mrs Buckley frowns but understands and goes away, not before asking you one more time if you're okay.

"I'm fine, Mrs Buckley, I swear."

"Oh cmon, Y/N, you know you can call me Melissa…"

"Goodbye, mom!" pushes Robin.

"I'm going, i'm going!"

But even though she has clearly interrupted possibly the biggest moment of your friendship, you were glad she did. Cause now when Robin closes the door behind her back the first thing you guys do is laugh at the absurdity of the moment.

It’s one of those laughs that cannot be stopped. Sooner than later you're laying down in the middle of her room, gasping for air in between shrieks of laughter. After a minute that feels a lot longer, silence invades you once again.

She was fucking gay too.

Who would have thought?

And even though, in theory, this would be a pretty good win for you, a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. Even though you knew for sure you weren't alone in this anymore. That single fact leads to another dilemma:

Being irretrievably in love with her, did it hurt less when you knew there wasn't any chance of her returning those feelings? When there was an actual, biological, explanation? Were things better now, when you could hang on to this little piece of hope? Or did it just make it worse? Knowing her lack of affection had everything to do with you and not with something you can't change or choose.

"Should we talk?" she asks, scared of breaking the peace in the room.

"It's 11:58, Rob." you point out as you sit down next to her in bed. Her worried face lights up when she hears the nickname, which does not help you at all with this not being stupidly in love with her thing "Let's toast first, we actually have something to celebrate this year, don't we?"

She nods and you two cheer with the juice her mom brought, not without adding a bit of the secret vodka below Robin's bed.

Forty peaceful minutes –and probably like three or four more glasses of the mix you had just created– after you find yourselves on the roof. You know drunk people and heights are usually combinations people with common sense seem to avoid, but you both were tired of living like that. Ruled by things you didn't believe in. And tonight had definitely meant freedom, even if the biggest part of the secret was still a secret. So you celebrated this way. Being drunk and stupid, just for the night.

But there was one factor you hadn't considered. If resisting her sober was living hell, the alcohol in your blood made it borderline impossible.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks. And you're almost too distracted watching her watch the sky to even respond. You liked to pretend it was only the moon that made her shine that way.

"Sure." and you know it's a mistake as soon as it leaves your lips.

"Why did you even date him?"

"My parents were getting suspicious." you lie. Cause again, saying 'cause I'm so deeply in love with you that I desperately needed anything and anyone to get you out of my head' seemes a liiitle too much. "Saying that I should 'lower my standards’ or whatever. They were also thinking about introducing me to someone themselves…"

"I don't think my parents know…"

"I don't think they'll be mad or anything" You say. She doesn't look as convinced.

"There's a big difference between not being mad and being actually supportive, right?"

"Yeah" You agree "Honestly, I don't think i'll ever tell my dad" Robin nods, she understands. She actually does. It still feels insane.

"Can I ask another question?"

"Of course, dummy"

"How did you find out?"

"A girl at the beach. I must've been eight or nine. We spent the whole summer together and the last night before I left she kissed me on our secret tree." You smile at the memories. At least that one was a cute story.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" She whines.

"Yeah. Never saw her again, though. Now I can't even remember her name…"

"But, wait, have you known since then??" She realizes after a second of silence, only filled by the sound of the wind.

"Yep, pretty much." She mutters 'wow' under her breath "Why? When did you find out?"

"Last year."

"Last year?"

Robin nods and you frown. "Tammy Thompson."

"Right! Of course Tammy Thompson!" You laugh and suddenly her face is all red and she's throwing little pieces of candy wrappers at you. "Half of sophomore year talking about how good she sings and how she was 'born to be in the spotlight'!"

"Shut up!"

"–And that's why you were so obsessed with Steve Harrington! Cause Tammy liked him! Everything makes sense now!"

"I was not obsessed with The Hair Harrington!"

"Yeah, you were" silence invades you once again and your focus shifts from the view to her face.

Her perfect little nose, filled with millions of freckles that, at least for you, were a hundred times more interesting than the constellations she was always telling you about.

"Well I'm not anymore…"

Her lips are a little cracked and slightly blue because of the wind, but you imagined they tasted like magic, hope and the chocolates and cherry juice you just had.

"I know."

Her hair runs free, like it always does, she hated it but you thought it captured her spirit perfectly. She would roll her eyes, not noticing the complement between the lines.

"Good…" She whispers. More to herself than to you.

She zones out for a minute, admiring Hawkins from the heights. There’s, obviously, no one in sight and it’s quiet. It must be really late.

"At least now we have an actual reason to run away from here" She says.

"You don't think Hawkins is ever going to be a place where we could live in peace?"

"No" She responds without missing a beat. You know she's right. "Do you think that place exists?"

"Yes." You don't miss a beat either. Yeah, you two were pretty fucked, but now that you had eachother it was clear that it wasnt the end of the world "We could go to San Francisco? Maybe New York?"

"There we could be free?"

"There we'd at least have a chance to fight for it."

You hear the wind louder and louder and you notice she's freezing. When you both decided to climb the window you had anticipated this exact situation and grabbed a blanket that now laid on your shoulders. You try to hand it over to her but she refuses –"I swear I'm not cold!" she clearly lies in between shivers– so you make her a bit of room and convince her to sit right next to you and share it.

Again, your slightly intoxicated brain didn't think it through, cause now you are very close. You could hear her heartbeat, smell her shampoo and feel her legs against yours kind of close.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Robin?"

"How did you know I was looking at Steve Harrington?"

You freeze. What are you even supposed to do right now?

Keep lying?

You had tasted the truth for the first time today and it had been wonderful. Maybe it’s pushing your luck, but she smells so good and her eyes shine so bright and she’s so close and you just really want her to stop asking questions so…

You kiss her.

And for two eternal seconds you feel the same sensation you have when you jump to the water from a trampoline. That second in the air when you don't really know if the water is really gonna catch you. That second of doubt, of not knowing if you're flying or falling.

Until she kisses back.

After a couple minutes you break apart slightly. Foreheads still touching and breaths still impossible to tell apart.

“With all of this I forgot your gift at home” is the first thing you say. Robin chuckles without opening her eyes just yet.

“I can think of a way for you to make it up to me…” she jokes.

“Mhm?” You play dumb. “Alright, then I’ll keep the Italian version of ‘If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler’ for myself then”

Robin’s eyes open to the point you're concerned about her corneas.

“I think I want to reconsider my options, please.” You laugh and kiss her once again.

“Too late.”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[sirisuorionblack]

It was perfect.

Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Summary - At the age of 30 Remus Lupin or should I say Remus Lupin-Black was settled with a perfect husband, a perfect daughter and a perfect life, it was almost unbelievable for him.

Warnings - None.

The sunshine peeked into the room awaking Remus by glaring right at his face. He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the harsh sunlight and tightening his arms around the two of the most if not only important people in his life.

His daughter, (Y/N), laid on one side of his chest, her head buried into the crook of his neck, her drool dropping onto his bare skin and his husband's ears were pressed to the other side, right above his heart, hearing those rhythmic contraction and relaxation that still allowed him to sleep despite anything going on around him.

Remus ran a hand through the silky locks of his husband, smiling to himself. Oh, how lucky he was.

"Good morning, husband," Sirius mumbled hoarsely into his chest.

Remus chuckled, after all these years of being married when Sirius called him husband till this day never failed to give him those very butterflies that erupted in the pit of his stomach when they went on their very first date.

Remus pressed his lips against Sirius' forehead, "Good morning."

Sirius kissed Remus' cheeks and then turned to his daughter who was still fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Remus' shoulders, making her pout involuntarily.

Sirius chuckled, dragging a finger over her smooth cheeks, "She is adorable,"

Remus snorted silently, "Obviously she is, I mean did you see her dad? God damn it, he is hot!" 

"Oh, is he now?"

"Mhm. You would say he has the beauty of a God,"

"Or you'd say he is the God himself,"

"If God was prick, that is,"

"And if He gets to fu-"

"Don't! Just shut up," Remus glared at Sirius who smirked in return.

"I mean-"

"No, you don't ever mean anything. Like quite literally, there is no filter between your mind and your mouth, no, honestly between your mind and any part of your body,"

"Are you saying I am stupid?"

"Absolutely not, Pads, how can I say that? Your the most brilliant human to ever live,"

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him and scoffed.

The little 2 year old in Remus' arms squirmed lightly, fisting the blanket draped over her in her chubby little fingers. Sirius grimaced as the two of them fell still afraid any movement might wake her up, but no movement was needed as she opened one eye, her grey orb shining as it met her father's almost the same grey ones.

She closed her eye immediately after she noticed her parents looking at her and smiled cheekily. Sirius barked a laughter and took his daughter into his arms, sitting up against the headboard.

"Good morning, little one," he said as he tickled her. (Y/N) giggled and leaned into her father's arms. 

She replied a 'Good morning' that either of the adults could barely understand if it wasn't for their training to grasp the words their two year old had been mumbling for months.

Remus cooed and he too sat up, kissing his daughter's cheek just the moment Sirius kissed her other cheek. Their daughter giggled. It was perfect. 

Remus somehow managed to wriggle out of Sirius' grasp with maximum amount of bribing and left their 2 year old daughter under his sight though he knew that was a dangerous thing to do.

"If I see the two of you making any ruckus when I come back, you're grounded," He had given them a weak threat which he knew the moment the father and daughter started to giggle and he left with a loud groan to the kitchen. 

Anonymously, Remus was excited to finish the breakfast that day although the rest of the days when he cooks he loves to take his time.

"Hey, Moony," Sirius muttered as he wrapped his arms around Remus from behind, pushing his weight onto the other man and evidently pressing him against the counter.

"What did you do, Black?" He asked, abandoning what he was doing and slightly leaned back to look at his husband.

"Nothing," Sirius mumbled into his shoulder blade which just added to his suspicions.

"Sirius," Remus said warningly, and narrowed his green eyes. The said man gulped in fear as he knows when he is called by his name, he is in serious trouble, no pun intended. 

Sirius pulled away, coughing nervously and Remus knew something was up as he turned off the gas and turned around, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at Sirius pointedly.

"Um," Sirius muttered, scratching his neck. Suddenly, he leaned in and pecked Remus on the lips and ran upstairs to their bedroom all the while yelling, "I am sorry, Remus, I didn't do it!"

It took Remus a while to register or to be exact return from the trance he was put in by just a peck on the lips but once when he did know what's happening he took off the flight of stairs with panic settling in.

"What did you do!?" He yelled as he burst open the door of their room and froze as he saw his daughter tangled in the bed sheet and giggling, pillows all torn, the stuffing flying all over the room and Sirius standing in the middle of the room, with eyes blown wide for what is to come.

Remus blinked twice and gave the most unexpected reaction from any - he howled with laughter. Sirius' eyes grew even wider if it was possible as he let out a scared, broken laugh.

"Oh, puppy," Remus said with a little laugh as he tried to untangle his daughter.

"Are you OK, Remus?" Sirius asked as he cautiously moved closer, taking a pillow case that was previously stuffed to the brim as a shield.

Taking (Y/N) in one arm, Remus grabbed the nearby thing and hurled it across the room at his stupidly handsome husband.

"Ouch," Sirius mumbled, prying the thing off his face which just happens to be another pillow case. The little girl in his arms giggled looking at her father.

"That giggles dubs to - you're an idiot, dad," Remus said and Sirius smirked.

"Oh does it?"

"Yup!"

"Well, then, do you know what else the idiot could do?" Sirius asked, as he stepped closer with each word and lunged at the two of them, tickling mercilessly. The laughter of the three of them were the only sounds resonating through the walls. It was perfect. 

"Alright now, we have the day free, so what do you want to do?" Sirius asked after they finished breakfast and walked to the couch where he found Remus sprawled, their daughter perched on top of his stomach.

(Y/N) touched on of Remus' scars and then kissed it muttering something similar to 'love you, papa', melting Remus' heart.

"I love you too, my sweetheart," Remus said, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Me too!" Sirius said, "I love you too, pup!"

(Y/N) giggled and sat up on his stomach once again. Sirius smiled softly and sat on the floor, his arm hovering inches behind his daughter's back and (Y/N) kissed his cheek, making the adults coo.

Sirius looked at his husband, "Alright, do you wanna go anywhere?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" Remus sang almost impersonating the original, almost.

"Ok, gods, no," Sirius muttered, shaking his head which just received a light slap to the arm.

"Papa!" (Y/N) yelled, wailing her arms to be picked up by Sirius and he obliged as though it was his command.

"Do you wanna go anywhere, pup? I am bored!" He asked his daughter.

"Hmm," she hummed as she waved her hands wildly, leaning against Sirius. 

"How about the park?" Remus suggested.

"Finally, your not insane," 

"Shut it,"

"Do you wanna go to the park, pup?" Sirius asked (Y/N), who giggled in response and Sirius laid her down on his lap, tickling again.

"I am taking my bike!"

"No, your not,"

"Yes, I am!"

"Sirius-"

"Please,"

"Sirius Orion-,"

"Pretty please."

With the puppy dog eyes, his leather-clad form, his hands clasped under his chin, Remus was prone to give in and that's exactly what he did and Sirius ran to the garage like an excited puppy.

Rolling his eyes, Remus picked and placed (Y/N) on his hips and ranted about how her father could be at times an absolute baby.

After strapping (Y/N) against Sirius' chest, Remus hopped on behind him, with his helmet on. It was perfect. 

The three of them returned home only after the sun set and they finished their dinner at their favourite restaurant with their head thrown back with laughter. 

"Alright you two, get changed, we are going to watch a movie!" Remus said, beaming. 

"I am choosing the movie!" Sirius yelled.

"Let's see about that," Remus said but what he meant was 'Absolute not'.

Remus giggled as he saw his husband wearing the pyjamas that were designed with black dogs and (Y/N) wearing similar pyjamas except it was woven with numerous patches of wolf. The rich prick that Sirius is!

"What is this?" He asked with a chuckle. 

"What? You don't like it?" Sirius asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Remus giggled, pressing his lips to Sirius'.

"Papa!" (Y/N) yelled, pushing them away. Sirius chuckled, kissing her forehead and raising her above his head and catching her as she fell back into his hands.

The three of them settled on the couch, (Y/N) between her fathers. "Finding dory?" 

"Sirius, no, even (Y/N) won't like that," 

"You don't know. She might too,"

"No we are not watching that,"

"Fifty shades of-"

"SIRIUS!"

"Ok, ok, sorry, jeez,"

Finally managing to put an appropriate movie, they settled down on the couch, snuggling closer.

Around the middle of the movie, (Y/N) had dozed off against Remus' chest. He smiled and nudged, Sirius who mirrored his expression, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead and then moved to press his lips to Remus' forehead.

"I love you," he said, smiling down at him.

"I love you too," 

It was perfect.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 7) - Take It Slow

Summary: Jensen takes the reader and the kids for a day on the slopes but a minor accident has Jensen nervous about their relationship. As Jensen jumps into filming more, he brings home a little surprise for the reader and kids and decides what he really wants going forward...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, mild injury, intruding rabbits

A/N: Enjoy!

________

“Good morning, munchkins,” you said the next day after an unexpected morning shower with Jensen. He’d gotten dressed and had them ready to go for the day by the time you were even drying off.

“Dad says he has a surprise for us today,” said JJ, slurping up her bowl of cereal.

“Oh really?” you asked.

“Yes really,” he said, setting a bowl of cereal and cup of coffee down at your spot, kissing your cheek. “Even Y/N’s don’t get to know. Now eat up everybody. I want to get on the road by ten.”

You helped put away the dishes in the dishwasher after breakfast, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter.

“What’s the surprise, Jackles?” you asked. He grinned and bopped your nose. “Gonna need another shower later?”

“Oh you liked that?” he smirked, pressing his hands on the counter edge on both sides of you. 

“You’re cute with wet hair,” you said.

“Well, since I will need your help a bit with wrangling the three munchkins...I think you’ll just have to find out when we get there,” he chuckled. He kissed your cheek and you groaned. “I’m taking you guys snowboarding today.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah. That or skiing. The kids have a little ski class and I figured maybe you and me could hit the slopes for an hour before we meet back up with them.”

“Uh, I have zero idea of how to ski. Or snowboard.”

“I know. I’m gonna teach you a few basics. Fun? Not fun?” he asked, resting his hands down on your hips.

“I will try my best...and probably end up with a sore butt,” you said.

“I got faith in you. We’ll take it real slow. You’ll get the hang of it real quick.”

“Daddy, I made a snowman,” said Zeppelin when Jensen had finished renting out skis for everyone an hour later. 

“I see honey. He looks very nice,” said Jensen. “Alright. Let’s get helmets on and get out there guys.”

Fifteen minutes later Zeppelin was holding onto your hand and leg, absolutely refusing to leave your side.

“Don’t you want to go play with your sisters?” you asked. He shook his head and Jensen sighed. “Why don’t I stay with the kids for the hour and you can get some actual going down the mountain in? I’m sure I can pick up whatever I need to learn watching them.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jensen. “I don’t mean to ditch and run.”

“I want to hang with Zepp anyways,” you said while you looked down. “What do you think? Sound good to you?”

He nodded and you glanced back at Jensen.

“You’re gonna have more fun not dragging me around anyways. We’ll see you in one hour, okay?” you asked. You kissed his cheek and smiled. “You can still teach me later, okay?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you guys real soon.”

“JJ you’re a natural!” beamed Jensen when you met back up with him. She was very good and the twins...well you gave up on them after a bit and simply let them run around the snow chasing one another. 

“Hey!” someone up the hill shouted. You spun around and saw some guy on a snowboard barreling straight for where the twins were sat near the edge of the slope. You jumped in front of them, the guy slamming straight into you but thankfully you were both able to go off to the right of them. You tumbled together for a minute before he slid away a few feet groaning. 

“Ow,” you said, rolling to your back and staring up at the sky. 

“You okay?” asked the guy with a grunt.

“I think so. You?” you breathed out.

“Same.” He made some kind of unclicking sound and then he crawled over, looking down at you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t really learn the stop part yet.”

“Y/N, honey,” said Jensen, suddenly kneeling down beside you. “Are you hurt?”

“Feel like I got hit by a train,” you said, trying to sit up. You hissed and lay back down, hearing a pair of ski’s stop nearby. “My back hurts.”

“What’s your name?” asked a guy in a bright red coat with a backpack on as he stopped at you on the ground.

“Y/N,” you said. 

“Unit two, possible back injury on southwest side of hill slope. Need the backboard,” said the guy into a radio before he was talking to the other man.

“Daddy,” said Arrow, tugging on Jensen’s sleeve. She had tears in her eyes and you gave her a smile.

“I’m fine, sweetie. Just fell down too hard. Daddy’s gonna keep playing with you guys for a few more minutes,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said quietly.

“They’re scared,” you whispered. “Go. I think my back is just scraped up, I promise. Go on. Meet up with me wherever they take me in a few minutes.”

“She’ll be at the medical station,” said the paramedic. Jensen shot the guy that’d slammed into you a dirty look but he went back over to the kids and you gave them a wave. “Can you describe your back pain?”

“It’s sore. I can move. It’s more like it just hurts, kinda dull like,” you said. 

“Alright. We’ll get you taken care of.”

Thirty Minutes Later

“Hey,” said Jensen as you struggled to pull your thermal leggings back up. “Let me help.”

“Thanks,” you said, holding his shoulders as he hiked them up your legs. 

“The kids could have gotten really hurt if you hadn’t jumped in like that,” he said, pulling them up over your hips. His hand grazed over the hot pack stuck on your skin and you nodded. “You okay?”

“It’s just a few bad bruises. The other guy broke his nose.”

“I could have broke his nose,” he said, tugging your hoodie down over you. 

“It was an accident,” you said. “Kids okay?”

“They got a little upset for a second but they’re fine. They want to be with you though and I’m inclined to cut today short,” he said. 

“Counter offer,” you said, sitting down on the bed and glancing at your boots. He knelt down and tugged one up, zipping it up before doing the other. “We grab lunch and go sledding on the kiddie hill afterwards.”

“We’ll get lunch and then go home,” he said, folding up your snow pants.

“Come on. I’m-”

“You’re hurt. You got bruises all over and sledding’s just gonna hurt you.”

“Jensen,” you said, standing and picking up your coat. “Take a deep breath.”

“I’m-”

“Jensen.” He frowned but did it, cocking his head at you. “Again.”

He did it a few times, looking down when he’d finished. You rubbed his arm and he nodded.

“I’m okay. Not going anywhere,” you said. 

“He hit you so fucking hard.”

“I know but I’m tougher than I look. Buy me some hot chocolate, make me feel better,” you said. 

“You didn’t hesitate to step in you know.”

“Well there wasn’t really time to pick them up or move them. I figured tackling the guy off to the side was the best bet.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“I know it’s not. But it’s not a big deal and I think we should come back next weekend so you and JJ can ski and me and the twins will go sledding. Deal?”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we can make a snowman when we get home.” You shrugged back into your jacket, Jensen fixing your hair. He zipped you up and took another deep breath, resting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay if you got scared. It’s nice knowing you care.”

“I don’t know if I’d survive two horrible…” he said.

“Yes you would. You have three very important reasons to.”

“You didn’t see the shit show I was before you.”

“Somehow you survived that without me. You could survive it without me again too,” you said.

“Yeah well, I don’t want to.” You smiled softly and he rested his forehead against your own.

“Well let’s plan on us having relatively boring normal lives then where we die of extremely old age in our sleep,” you said. “Sound like a plan?”

“I’d be okay with that,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go enjoy the rest of our day, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

“Ah shit,” you said that night in your bathroom as you put on your pajamas after a shower. You were covered in dark purple bruises all over your back, legs and arms. Jensen had turned around throughout the day and seemed to have forgotten about the incident on the slope. It’d set him on edge which you couldn’t blame the poor guy for but you just knew if he got one look at you he’d start to worry again.

“Y/N,” said Jensen through the door. “Got a minute?”

“Just a second.” You looked around and grabbed the robe you never used off the back of the door and tied it around your waist. You tugged up your sweatpants and hummed. “Come in.”

“Hey,” he said, giving you a smile in the mirror as you started to comb your hair. “I’m gonna have to ditch on the movie. Work just called and my night shoot for later in the week got pushed cause of the storm they’re expecting.”

“Oh. When do you go in?”

“About twenty minutes,” he said.

“Don’t you need sleep?” you asked. He shrugged and you cocked your head.

“I’ll sleep on my lunch break. You mind getting the three of them down for bed tonight?”

“Not at all. Remember to pack your long john’s. It’s not warm and neither is your suit,” you said.

“The perils of playing a superhero,�� he chuckled. You smiled and combed your hair, the sleeve of your robe falling down your leg and exposing a bruised arm. “Can I see?”

“It’s one little bruise,” you said, holding your arm up to him. 

“Can I see?” he asked again. You sighed and undid your robe, sliding it off your shoulders. He frowned when he saw your chest and back but only nodded. “Take some pain medicine before bed. There’s some of those heat packs in the kitchen too if you want some.”

“I will,” you said. You put on your pajama shirt and he went to leave, leaving his hand on the doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Aspercreme helps. Worked for me after the accident,” he said.

“Thanks. Text me when you’re on your way home?” you asked.

“Can do,” he said. He tapped his fingers on the frame before swinging around it and leaving. You picked up your brush and went back to brushing, Jensen popping back around the corner. Your gaze found his in the mirror and he glanced down. “Y/N. This is gonna come across a certain way and I hope…”

“We can slow it down, Jensen. I know today brought up some stuff for you.”

“I do care about you,” he said as he walked over. You turned to face him, Jensen taking your arm and running his thumb gently over the bruised skin. “I don’t necessarily think we’re going too fast either. But today kinda fucked me up a bit and I gotta deal with that shit before I keep going with this. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.”

“Are we taking a break?” you asked, his head immediately shaking.

“No, no. I just...want to keep the status quo for a bit? Sleep in our own rooms, have a date night on Saturdays. Keep things...the same. Normally I know that’s the death of a relationship but-”

“Jensen you know last night when we were playing around and I told you that we could stop whenever you needed to?”

“I don’t want to stop though. I just-”

“Jensen. I’m saying don’t worry about it. This isn’t the death of our relationship. You are feeling a lot of shit right now and so am I. You’re starting to get into filming everyday and I know that’s gonna be long days and when you’re home your focus is gonna be on the kids and I’m just saying it’s okay if this steps off the gas for a second. Just come back eventually okay?”

“Why are you so understanding?”

“Why would I make this hard for you?” you asked.

“Don’t you want things out of this though?”

“Of course I want things. But hurting you in the process to get there isn’t worth it. I’m not gonna hurt you just so I can hit some stupid milestone that people say you should do by x point in time. Fuck that. When you’re ready to progress a bit again, I trust you’ll tell me. Okay?”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. He kissed you slowly and nodded. “I’ll try not to take too long. I promise.”

“I am going to ask for one thing though.”

“Anything.”

“Call up that doctor you saw. Talk to him about how you’re feeling. Don’t go through whatever’s going on in that head of yours alone.”

“I will. I promise. I still want to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”

“I know and you can be. We’ll go slow,” you said. “Now go get ready for work and kiss the kids goodbye. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.” He slid his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in close, planting a deep kiss on you. You stared at him as he broke away and smiled. “See you later honey.”

“Later Jensen. Call if you need anything.”

“I will. Promise.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hi,” hummed Jensen as he knocked on the edge of your doorframe late one night. You were sat on bed with your laptop typing away.

“Hello,” you said, biting your bottom lip as you backed up what you’d written.

“What ya doing?” he hummed again.

“Um, working on another Fox Foxington story,” you said. 

“Must be pretty invested considering you haven’t looked at me once,” he said, a big ass smirk in his voice. You glanced up and he was grinning hard, your jaw dropping.

“Oh my God.” You pushed the laptop aside and hopped out of bed, bouncing up and down on your toes. “You’re suit looks fucking awesome! They let you bring it home?”

“I’m on my lunch break. We’re filming ten minutes from here. I thought someone might like to see it in person.”

“This is so cool,” you said, reaching out a hand but pausing. “Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head. “Feels weird right?”

“Yeah. I bet this thing isn’t comfortable to wear all day,” you said.

“Hardest part is the bathroom,” he said as you inspected him. “I’m not in it all day though.”

“Is that a spoiler?” you asked.

“Is it?” he teased. “Kids in bed yet?”

“Yeah but wake ‘em up. Dad looks freaking awesome right now,” you said.

“You sure?”

“Yup,” you said. You went back to your nightstand and grabbed your phone. “Come on, picture time.”

Ten minutes later and one sprinting out the front door Jensen later you had the kids back in bed and went back to work on your story. You worked for a few minutes when a flashing on the wall caught your attention. You narrowed your eyes at the box by your door, figuring the HVAC system was messing up again.

You got up and stared at it for a moment before you realized what the little flashing light was for. Your phone rang in your hand and you quickly answered.

“Y/N, I got a text saying the motion alarm got tripped,” said Jensen. “Did you-”

You heard a thud downstairs and opened the door.

“Someone’s downstairs,” you whispered.

“Turn around,” you heard Jensen say to the driver. You snuck out of the room and down the hall past the kids rooms. You peered over the balcony and laughed. “Y/N?”

“Uh, I know who our intruder is,” you laughed. “Um, you didn’t happen to leave the front door open when you came in earlier, did you?”

“Maybe,” he said as you heard a car out front. “What-”

“There’s a big ass rabbit sitting in the foyer,” you said, watching it hop over to the boot tray and start gnawing on Jensen’s sneaker. “I hope you aren’t partial to those blue sneakers.”

“What the…” he said as you watched the front door open. You hung up and Jensen stared at the rabbit, the rabbit taking a beat before it went back to chewing his shoelaces. “No! Stop! Bad bunny! This isn’t your house, go home.”

“Oh I need to film this,” you said. You started to record him as he opened the door and pointed outside.

“Go home bunny,” he said. The bunny apparently took that as an invitation to hop further into the house, Jensen groaning. You giggled and went downstairs, following them into the kitchen where the rabbit decided to hide under the counter stools. “Bunny please go home? I’m gonna be late getting back to work.”

The bunny hopped over to him before dashing away to the other side of the kitchen.

“Wait,” he said. He went to the fridge and grabbed a bag of baby carrots. He pulled one out and sat it on the ground by his feet. “Come on little guy. Come on…”

“Here we see Soldier Boy attempting to remove a little bunny rabbit from his home. Will he succeed or will he be late for work and have to explain this strange incident to his boss? Tune in to find out,” you said. Jensen stood up and shot you a bitch face. 

“You gonna narrate too?” he said.

“Maybe,” you laughed, taking the carrot off the floor. “Come on Mr. Bunny. I’ll give you the bag of ‘em if you head outside. It’s getting late. You ought to be home with your family, buddy.”

He hopped over and you knelt down, holding it out to him. He took a nibble and Jensen bent over, picking him up gently. 

“You’re cute and all but no bunnies allowed inside,” he said. He set him down outside and dumped out the bag of carrots by the front door. “Okay? Maybe you can get some more of those if you don’t break in again.”

The rabbit took a carrot in it’s mouth and ran off to the hedge before it came back and grabbed another.

“Ah Soldier Boy saves the day again,” you giggled. He made a superhero pose before laughing and you turned off the video. “Go on cutie. Don’t catch cold either. Wouldn’t want you sick for your birthday.”

“Is it...is it my birthday?” he teased. “Oh I seem to have completely have forgotten about it.”

“I wish you didn’t have work all day.”

“Eh, I’m used to it,” he said.

“Um, since you have a long day and stuff...can I take you out Thursday? I know you’re off Friday.”

“Yeah. I’d love that,” he said.

“Your birthday present is on your bed when you get home later,” you said.

“Looking forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Later Jensen.”

It was after dinner the next night, Jensen only getting home around lunch after an incredibly long day, when a pair of arms wrapped around you. You spun around and a very tired Jensen was hugging you tightly.

“Hey. I thought you were heading to bed finally,” you said.

“I was. I opened your present. Thank you.”

“S’just a present,” you said. He shook his head and you smiled. “I know. It’s your first one without her.”

“No that’s not it. Yesterday I was a little off because of it but...you got me socks. She always got me socks for my birthday. It was a joke between us but you didn’t know that and you still got me socks somehow.”

“Jensen it’s just a pair of socks.”

“I know. I’m not the kind of person that takes things as signs and stuff but maybe somehow, she was telling me something, like it’s okay to move on with you.”

“Maybe,” you said. You’d honestly only bought them because he couldn’t wear winter boots while he was filming and you knew his feet got cold. But if he wanted to take it that way you weren’t going to stop him. 

“Can we pick things up again? You’ve been taking a backseat the past few weeks and I know what I want and what I’m ready for.”

“What are you ready for?”

“You’re gonna get hurt sometimes and I can’t stop it. I can only be there after the fact and I’m okay with getting hurt in that way. It’s the price I gotta pay and I’ll pay it eventually but I’m okay with that. I want to be with my best friend again if she’ll have me back.”

“Always,” you said. “I don’t need a date every night to make me happy.”

“I know. Would you sleep in my bed tonight though?” he asked. “I missed your cuddles.”

“Sure. I’ll be up in a little while. You get some sleep. You have to be exhausted,” you said. 

“I am. But tomorrow and Thursday should be shorter days,” he said. “On a positive note, it sounds like filming is going faster than expected so there’s a possibility we can all get back home sooner than we thought.”

“Not that I mind the snow but I know the kids wouldn’t mind seeing their friends again,” you said. “Go get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow when you’re more conscious, alright?”

“Yes mam,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and went upstairs, JJ wandering over from where she’d been coloring.

“JJ, why’d you tell me your dad likes getting socks on his birthday?” you asked.

“I don’t know. He just does,” she said. You ruffled her hair and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s play a board game before bed, see if we can get the twins to pay attention this time.”

________

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

[ramzawrites]

Snow Day - Dad!Schlatt and Reader

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Schlatt, Tubbo, Quackity

Warnings: cursing

Series: It’s a small fun drabble

Summary: It snowed in Manberg! How can you not be excited for it! Tubbo and Y/N certainly are, dragging their father Schlatt out so they can play in the snow.

Word count: 2220

Author’s Note: Okay, obviously lorewise this doesn’t make much sense but I just wanted to have a nice little drabble about Dad!Schlatt playing with Y/N and Tubbo in the snow since I love snowy days. Also I’m kinda just writing drabbles right now to get through my writers block so if you have any ideas shoot em my way though I am a slow writer, sorry

„Dad! Dad! Wake up!“ Y/N came running into Schlatt’s bedroom, jumping straight onto his bed, landing on his legs.

Schlatt threw his eyes open and let out a pained cry. His child was young and not that heavy but it still felt like they just snapped his legs in two.

“God damn it, Y/N! What in the world are you doing? How early is it anyway?” he sighed as he pushed them off to the side so they wouldn’t destroy his bones anymore, wondering why they were awake so early. Taking a short look at his alarm clock he could see he still would’ve had about an hour of sleep before having to get up for work.

Their eyes were wide with excitement as they grabbed his blanket and begun pulling on it “Dad! It’s snowing! It’s snowing!” Jumping up and down in excitement on the side of his bed.

Now it made sense why Y/N woke him up.

A smirk appeared on his face. He closed his eyes again, pulled his blanket up and turned away from Y/N. Acting as if he fell asleep again.

“No!” Y/N cried out in horror. Throwing themself against Schlatt and grabbing onto his horns. Softly pulling on them. Not hard enough to hurt but just enough to annoy him.

He finally decided to sit up “Okay! You won! Let me get dressed and then we’ll see about going outside, okay? Also wake your brother up if he is still asleep. He’ll want to go out as well.”

Their frown immediately turned into a huge brimming smile “Yes!” He let out a deep breath, already knowing that this day would be a straining one. Actually he had some stuff to work on back in the White House but alas the first snow fell and these plans got obviously pushed back.

Maybe he needed that small break anyhow.

As he got up and got dressed in comfortable and warm clothing, opting out of his usual suit due to the snow, he heard some rumbling and laughing from outside his room. The two kids were excitedly yelling about the snow, making snowmen and igloos.

Once he got properly dressed he took a look outside his window only to see Manberg covered in a thick layer of snow. It looked peaceful and beautiful but dread was still building up in him. If the snow was that thick he will have to shovel some of the snow in front of his house away. To that he would have to make his way to the office through all of that.

It was very tempting to grab his communicator and shoot Quackity a message that today the two could take the day off, though as president of a small nation this isn’t a thing you could just nonchalantly do. So instead he grabbed his communicator and wrote Quackity a different message “Will come in a few hours later than usual today. You can take your time as well.”

He didn’t immediately receive an answer. Quackity was probably still asleep, which made sense. He didn’t have a child at home that woke up early and noticed the snow before anyone else in the house after all.

Schlatt opened up the door to his room only to see Tubbo skipping down the stairs, already dressed and full with energy. Of course he was happy to see both of his kids being excited but he was still lagging behind concerning his own energy.

“Hey, kiddos.” He yawned, stepping down the stairs himself, already seeing the two trying to wrangle themselves into their boots. “Before we go out let’s eat some breakfast first.”

“But dad!” Tubbo whined, still trying to push his foot into the shoe.

Schlatt shook his head “No buts. First breakfast and then we can go out and play.”

Both Tubbo and Y/N looked absolutely betrayed he would force them to eat first before being able to go out but they also knew there was no sense arguing with him about it, so they just begrudgingly let go of their boots and followed their father into the kitchen where he begun making some basic breakfast for the three of them.

Schlatt was taking his time drinking his coffee and eating his food, slowly waking up properly while Y/N and Tubbo couldn’t sit still on their chairs. Wharfing down their food and drink as fast as they could only to be annoyed at Schlatt’s slow eating. He would lie if he didn’t think it was a tiny bit amusing watching them as they struggled to patiently wait for him. Honestly it looked like they were sitting on hot coals.

“Come on! Eat faster!” Y/N drawled out angrily. Tubbo let out a frustrated sigh showing that he was just as annoyed as his little sibling.

Oh how easy Schlatt could prolong this by pouring himself another cup of coffee. He almost went for it but he didn’t want to torture his kids too much.

Rolling his eyes he gave them a small nod “Alright, alright. You guys get dressed up and I’ll follow you guys in a sec.”

Both let out relieved sighs and exclamations almost literally jumping off their chairs and running out to get their things.

That’s when Schlatt’s communicator rung. Seems like Quackity finally answered him.

“Gotcha Boss.”

While Schlatt didn’t necessarily wanted to make his children wait even longer he still took the time to get properly dressed up in his coat, gloves and scarf. He even got some ear muffs out for the two as well which the two didn’t appreciate. Schlatt used his authority as their dad though to make them wear the muffs.

Then it was finally time. Schlatt opened the door and the kids ran out right into the snow. Both laughing in glee as they threw themselves right into it. Schlatt wanted to chastise them for it since this would most likely end up with them catching a cold but he stopped himself. It has been a while since they could play in the snow so he wanted to let them enjoy themselves like that just for a little bit. Also he didn’t like how much he acted like a typical boring, worried dad.

While the two were yelling and throwing snow around Schlatt got his snow shovel out and begun freeing up the front door. He was a few minutes in as he felt something pull on his jacket. Turning around he saw Y/N trying to get his attention.

“Can you help us build a snowman?”

Y/N looked expectantly at their father. Cheecks and nose flushed from the cold. Snow was gathering on their head, especially on their small horns. The horns were still pretty small but since they were a bit rough the snow stuck to them very easily. Schlatt smiled and got rid of the snow on their head.

“Alright but only one. Then we have to make our way into the city.”

Their eyes begun to glisten “You are taking us with you to work?”

“Something like that, come on kiddo. Let’s get the snowman going.”

Together the three begun working on making a snowman together. Schlatt took care of the biggest snowball since he was obviously the strongest of he group. Tubbo took care of the middle part and Y/N rolled together the head for their master piece. Since they were also the fastest done they were allowed to look for things to decorate it later with.

As Tubbo helped Schlatt setting the snowman together Y/N reappeared with some twigs and stones in their hands.

“There you are, was wondering what took so long.” Tubbo smiled as he put more snow on the snowman to fill in some indents.

Y/N just stuck their tongue out and begun trying to stick some twigs at the side to make some makeshift arms for the snowman. Schlatt helped them a little bit to make sure it was really stuck in there before they continued to put on a crooked smile with small pebbles.

Once they were done the group gave the snowman a good look over. It was definitely not perfect but both Tubbo and Y/N had they biggest and proudest smiles on as they looked at it. Schlatt was smiling too, more happy about their happiness than their little snowman.

That’s when Schlatt had an idea. He took some of the more elastic twigs and put them on the head of the snowman, curling them around its head to make it look similar to the horns he had and pushing the ends back into the head so it would stay in that form. Well, to be fair Tubbo’s horns were well on their way to resemble his and while Y/N’s were still pretty small they already begun to show a similar curl.

Satisfied with his work he picked up Y/N who wrapped their arms around him for a short hug “Thanks Dad. It looks great.”

Tubbo nodded “Yeah! That does kinda look like dad though!”

Schlatt frowned “Hey! What is that supposed to mean!”

“How about we add two more later as well! One for me and one for Y/N!” Tubbo stated. Expertly ignoring his father’s outburst.

Y/N giggled “Yes! Let’s do it!”

“Later. I have to slowly get into the city so I can go work. I’ll take you guys with me this time. We’ll find something for you guys to do there, alright?”

The two agreed sure enough so the group made their way, albeit slowly due to the snow, into the heart of Manberg where the White House was waiting for them. Usually Schlatt would leave them at home. Tubbo was old enough to look over his younger sibling and the way into the city isn’t that long either way anyhow. They would hang around at home and do their shenanigans or just run to Manberg where they would hang out with the other residents.

Schlatt had problems expressing it but he was truly proud of his two gremlin kids. They were usually really patient and polite which was honestly pretty surprising seeing how he acted but somehow he managed to raise two polite and nice kids. Okay, they sometimes get into trouble but who could fault them that’s just what kids do.

Inside Manberg you could see a few residents shoveling snow away from the walkways and homes. Some seemed to be happy to see the snow while others were pretty annoyed. Schlatt would have been one of the latter group if his children weren’t so happy with all of this.

He has really gone soft hasn’t he?

“Alright. We are here now. You guys can come in with me and warm up a bit but you two can also go and play.” He rambled off as he set Y/N back down.

“Can we have some money so we can buy some food from Niki’s?” Tubbo asked.

Schlatt frowned, putting on an expression as if him getting out some money and handing it towards him was physically hurting him “You are killing me, Tubbo. You better not waste it.”

Tubbo just rolled his eyes and held his hand out for Y/N to take it so they could walk off together.

Schlatt put his hands on his sides, looking at the two walking off for a few seconds before he felt something hard hitting his back, resulting in him letting out a yelp in surprise. Both the kids turned around laughing at the weird sound their father made only to see Quackity standing behind him with a mischievous grin, already forming a new snowball in his hands.

“Oh you are so dead, motherfucker.” Schlatt grumbled only to make a snowball himself to throw it at the duck hybrid, hitting him square in the chest. Feeling a tiny bit vindicated by this Schlatt begun to cackle.

Y/N looked at Tubbo, not sure what to make of this, who in return just shrugged. When they looked back at their still cackling dad they saw how Quackity was pointing to the snowball in his hand and then at them. It took them a moment to understand what he meant but immediately crouched down to get better access to the snow once they understood. Tubbo followed suit.

This is how a full blown snowball fight started though it wasn’t much as a fight since Quackity, Tubbo and Y/N all concentrated on Schlatt. Throwing all they had against him. Schlatt had to hide behind an old stall that was still standing on the marketplace, only sometimes looking from behind it, throwing his own snowballs.

To think he was angry and trying his best to get this stall removed for the longest time now only for it to now save his life.

“Y/N! You are supposed to throw it at your dad! Not me!” Quackity suddenly yelled out.

Curious Schlatt took a look from behind the stall only to see how Y/N ran towards him to hide behind the stall as well while Quackity was trying his best to get rid off the snow that was on his beanie.

Schlatt was impressed. A headshot, huh.

Y/N was out of breath huddling down next to their father “I thought it was unfair. Three versus one didn’t seem right.”

Schlatt formed a new snowball, handing it to Y/N “That’s why you are my favorite” he joked “Now let’s start the counterattack.”

[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support. 

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

 -

  When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us. 

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

 -

  I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside. 

Turning back to my car, I  wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology.  "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

[itscominghome]

Summary: Living up to his nickname, you and Ben decide to make a snowman.

Notes: Requests are closed. Sorry I'm only getting worse at releasing these.

"Baby! Can you get one of our Chelsea scarves!? And one of your, like, 50 beanies!?" Ben shouts, his voice echoing throughout the house. I look around my bedroom, visibly confused, but do as he asks anyway. I gather up everything he's asked for and follow him downstairs to where his voice could be hear, singing 'Underneath the Tree' to himself. He's gone pure karaoke when I find him, a banana from the fruit bowl in his hand acting as his microphone. I creep up behind him, grabbing his shoulder and shouting,

"Boo!" He screams. Like he genuinely screams out of actual terror. Within seconds I'm rolling around in tears of laughter on the floor.

"I wasn't scared," Ben stuttered out, not finding the situation as amusing as I had.

"You shit yourself!" I shout, still laughing on the floor, holding onto a chair for support as I try to stand back up. Ben scowls at me.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You should be a singer honestly, babe. But here's the stuff you asked for?" I say, controlling my laughter and passing over the beanie and scarf.

"Thanks, baby," Ben says, his mood quickly changing, kissing my forehead gently. I roll my eyes playfully at his affections before he pulls me outside.

"Gonna explain what the scarf and hat are for?" I ask, still completely clueless. It's now Ben's turn to look confused as he stares at all the snow in our garden. And suddenly, I clock on.

"Ohhh!"

"Dumbass,"

"Oi!"

"Well you laughed at me for being scared before,"

"To be honest with you, I was laughing more at the little bum movements you were doing,"

"So, you were looking at my arse then?" He smirks, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't be getting any ideas. Let's just get this snowman built so I can go and get warm again." So off to work we went, Ben working on the bigger ball of snow for the bottom of the snowman, and me working on the middle part. After both were done, I tried lifting mine to put it on top of Ben's to no avail.

"Hey, let me help you," Ben said, coming around the back of me, the both of us lifting the ball of snow together. I felt him grind against me for a quick second, before stopping his movements. The tease.

By the time the three snowballs had been made and put together, my hands were quite cold, the melting snow seeping through my gloves.

"Baby, take mine," Ben offers seeing the way I was shaking in the winter cold. I try to tell him to keep them, but he insists and I end up wearing them. "The Chilwell Charm" as my Mum would refer to it as. he could get anything he wanted if he tried hard enough and he was hard to dislike, my parents loving him instantly.

Ben walks over to a pile of pebbles he's collected, placing them in a smile and as eyes, as I wrap the Chelsea scarf around the quote on quote 'neck' area and place the beanie over its head. I turn around to see Ben has disappeared, only for him to come running back out with a carrot in his hand. But, because of how slippy the ground is, he goes tumbling to the floor. Right as he reaches the snowman. He crashes into it and it crumbles underneath us. I send my hand up to my face in disappointment. Ben looks up at me, biting his lip, something he does when he's done something wrong.

"I'm so sorry! I mean at least the carrot is there too, I guess?" Ben says, looking for a laugh out of me. And he gets it as I jump on top of him and he tickles me.

"Do you know what though? It wouldn't be us without someone messing something up, would it?"

Taglist: @jorgiswifey @masnmount @masterclassbaby

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3

a/n: we love a little throwback with this gif, my heart 😭 again, i can’t thank you all enough for the love you’ve shown my writing it’s truly the sweetest thing and i’m happy you guys are liking the story so far! this was is the longest part so far with a lot happening, so happy reading! remember to leave some feedback and reblog cause it’s always appreciated.

and as always, thanks to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles​ and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles​ for beta reading ❤️

word count: 19k

warnings: mentions of a partner cheating (f*** mark), minor mention of drugs (aka weed lol), alcohol consumption (tequila anyone?), and serious! sexual! tense!

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

Y/N didn’t realize she had left Harry’s apartment the other day with his hoodie on until the next morning when she had woken up to the sweet smell of faint lavender and laundry soap. She didn’t return the hoodie, though. In fact, she shamelessly slept in the hoodie for three more nights; it was just really comfortable, she tries to convince herself that’s the only reason she’s wearing it to bed each night. It wasn’t because the smell that calmed her, reminding her of that dimpled smile and dazzling green eyes that would wander into her dreams every night now and then. And it was especially not because she found herself falling for those same pair of eyes, no, not a shred of feelings besides friendship there.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sammy deadpans.

“What are you talking about now?” Y/N questions, keeping her eyes on her phone as she texts back Harry.

“You and your little affair,” Sammy quips back. His choice of words causes Y/N’s head to quickly snap up and look at her friend. He’s giving her a bored look, a smug little smile on his face that makes Y/N narrow her eyes.

“I am not having an affair, Sammy, so let’s not start that rumour around the office, please,” Y/N says to him in a hushed voice. “Plus, Mark hasn’t bothered to call or text me in almost a week now. So, I’m pretty sure the next time we do talk it will be to end things officially,” Y/N explains, her voice falling flat as she feels her heart rate pick up just thinking of her and Mark breaking up. Regardless of the fact he’s hurt her feelings, annoyed her and so on - it’s still a break up, and they really freaking suck.

“I sure hope so,” Sammy says. “You know I’m team Harry all the way,” he gives Y/N a wicked smile which she only rolls her eyes at.

There were no teams to be on, she thinks. She was just becoming friends with Harry, and yeah, she found him ridiculously attractive and really sweet too, but she wasn’t dumping Mark for him or anything. If she was dumping Mark it was because of how their relationship turned out, without Harry’s help, and how neither of them are benefitting from being together anymore. Hell, they didn’t even have sex last time he was in the city. It also didn’t have to do with the fact that Y/N would be nervous that Harry could hear them. Nope that thought didn’t cross her mind not even once - Y/N finds herself biting on her bottom lip as she’s deep in thought and trying to convince herself certain things.

Her phone buzzes where she left it on her desk brings her back to reality. She picks it up and swipes up as the face ID recognizes her, opening up the messages, between her and Harry, that she was previously on. Y/N can’t help it as a chuckle leaves her lips. She notices how Sammy leans back in his chair and raises a brow at her, but she chooses to ignore him and instead keeps watching the gif Harry sent on loop over and over again.

It was a cartoon Santa, dabbing. Yes, Harry used a gif that had to do with a trend from the world's youth. Y/N never would have guessed Harry even knew what dabbing was. She holds back another chuckle and looks up a gif to respond to his. She goes for one that’s a cartoon of Rudolph, his nose lighting up like a strobe light as he dances on two legs. It’s silly, but she’s enjoying this back and forth texting of stupid Christmas themed gifs. It’s been going on for about five minutes and she doesn’t even know why or how it started, but she loves it.

How’s work so far today? Harry texts after sending a gif of the Olaf the snowman from Frozen, dancing in the field of flowers. Y/N tilts her head to the side and leans further back in her seat, stretching her legs under her desk. The work that was on her desk was long forgotten when her and Harry began texting earlier.

It’s good, I finally have a few moments of downtime at my desk. We had like four clients in this morning for some fittings for the many Christmas parties going on next week. Y/N sends that off before typing, How’s your day? Write anything good yet?

Glad it’s less busy now, don’t let me distract you with all these amazing Christmas gifs though. And I’ve got a few things written while at the cafe, finally found the right melody for another song I was working on last week. Harry types out to Y/N, biting on the nail of his thumb after hitting send. He’s been leaning on the guitar in his lap for the past twenty minutes. That melody was found, but pushed away after he got into texting Y/N.

Not too distracting, although I think Sammy is jealous no one’s sending him any silly gifs. A second text shows up only seconds later, Harry’s sometimes surprised at how fast Y/N can type. And that’s good though! Will I ever get to hear you play in person besides through the wall our apartments share?

Harry smiles over his thumb at the first text but then is biting at his nail again as he reads over the second bubble a few times. He isn’t too surprised that she can hear him play from her apartment, but he is surprised she’s asking to hear him play. He doesn’t think he’s all that great of a guitar player. It’s kind of hard to think when he’s best mates with one of the best guitar players in the industry; Mitch could outplay him any day. Harry stops biting on his nail and hovers his thumbs over his keyboard. Although he’s usually too nervous to just sit and play for someone, he finds himself imagining playing for Y/N.

Tell Sammy I’ll send him some gifs too if he wants. And as for playing for you, maybe... if you catch me on a good day. Y/N shakes her head at his response, somehow not too shocked that’s what he says. She recalls him not telling her what popular songs he had written, how his cheeks grew a shade of pink at the mere idea of Y/N knowing of his work. So, she’ll take her odds and pray that someday soon she gets Harry on a good day and hears him play something.

“Y/N,” Amanda’s voice calling her name causes Y/N to jump, sitting straight up in her seat and nearly dropping her phone. She shuts off the screen and feels the vibration from her Apple watch, a notification reading that it was time to head into the conference room to interview new interns with Amanda. Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Amanda standing behind her with her eyebrows raised and her lifeline of a notebook in hand. “You alright?” She asks, slight concern in her tone.

“Yeah,” Y/N clears her throat and stands from her desk, wobbling on her heeled boots as she gathers up her laptop and cell phone. “I’m all good, ready to find us some new interns,” she states with a smile.

Amanda gives her a look as if doubting her, but then nods as Y/N steps in front of her and they move into the conference room. It’s not until their third candidate that Y/N thought of her boyfriend. Her watch buzzes, flashing up at text from Mark, then one from Sammy right away. She ignores them and tries to focus on listening to yet another fashion student talk about their love for the industry and the company. She was once just like them, sitting on the other side of this conference table and grinning ear to ear from just being in the building. She still felt excited to come into work every day and she feels very grateful to still feel that way. So, therefore she doesn’t hate sitting there for a few hours and having a handful of first impressions with girls that she once was. But, in the back of her mind she’s wondering what Mark could have texted her. It’s been five days since the phone call she ended up hanging up on him. What could he possibly have to say?

“Thank you for coming in today,” Amanda says with a smile to their last interview of the day. The small blonde stands up as the two of them do, and reaches across the table to shake both of their hands before saying short goodbyes and letting one of the receptionists walk them out.

“I think I liked her the best,” Y/N comments, writing a quick note beside her resume.

“I agree. We’ll email back and forth a bit more about it. I’ve got another phone meeting with a few clients for the new year first,” Amanda explains as she’s reading over her planner before snapping it shut.

“Sounds like fun,” Y/N nods before walking separate ways from Amanda and heading back to her desk. As she gets closer, she can't help but notice the oversized bouquet of flowers on her desk. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slows her steps, taking in the beautiful pinks and oranges in the bouquet before reaching for the card that stuck out of it. Sammy pops up then, right by Y/N’s side almost breathing down her neck.

“Did you not get my text? These showed up like halfway through your interviews,” Sammy states, trying to read the card before Y/N can. She shields it’s away from his eyes and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sorry,” he apologizes and takes a step back.

Y/N reads the printed out note and finds herself sighing as she reads it over again. I’m sorry - Mark. Y/N shakes her head and rolls her lips into her mouth, staring at the bouquet again. That’s it, just sorry? She thinks, but then remembers that he had texted her too. Maybe there’s something more there but Y/N finds herself doubting it.

“Who’s it from?” Sammy questions. Y/N ignores him and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. She unlocks it and taps on her messages app, having to back out of her conversation with Harry in order to open up Mark’s text from earlier.

Did you get the flowers? The company sent me a notification saying someone signed for them. Y/N rolls her eyes at his careless text message; not an ounce of emotion behind any of his words, through text or on the note. She doesn’t find herself smiling at the flowers, thinking how it’s a nice gesture, but instead finding it ridiculous that her boyfriend missed the whole point of the fight and just thinks some random bouquet of flowers will fix everything that she’s feeling. Is he even bothered by the fact they fought and haven’t spoken in five days? She wonders as she shuts off her phone screen without responding.

“Mark sent them,” Y/N finally tells Sammy, turning around to hand him the card. After he grabs it, and Y/N turns back around and places a hand on either side of the vase. She turns on her heels and walks around her desk to the left, moving Sammy’s chair out of the way and placing them on his desk instead. “You can have them, they look better on your desk,” she stays in a flat tone of voice, feeling indifferent about if she should just throw them out or not.

“Are you going to break up with him?” Sammy asks, his voice is quiet and soft - sounding like a caring friend instead of a gossiping coworker.

Y/N bites down on her bottom lip and nods, “yeah, I think I am going to. I just don’t know how, breaking up with someone on the phone feels so shallow and I would hate to be broken up with over the phone.” She explains, turning back around to look at Sammy again. He’s frowning, a look of pity in his eyes.

“But it’s unfair to you both to keep this relationship going on like this, Y/N,” Sammy says, letting out a deep sigh and tosses the card in the garbage bin by Y/N’s desk. “You’ll know what to do, you always do,” Sammy adds on with a smile.

Y/N tries to mirror her friends smile but feels it fall flat on her lips. She’s doubting herself, doubting her choices with Mark these past four months, and she keeps doubting herself all day till she’s walking into her apartment. She closes her door and slips out of her coat. Y/N sighs and pulls out her phone while walking to her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed before pulling up Mark’s contact.

Her fingers hover over the call icon, her heart beating a million miles an hour as she imagines how this phone call is going to go. Should she really break up with him over the phone? She thinks, yet again doubting herself. This was really the only way to do it, seeing as he won’t be in the city for who knows how long. Y/N didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, especially since it started to feel less like a relationship as the days went on this past month. Y/N inhales deeply just as her phone begins to ring, Mark’s contact picture of him kissing her cheek fills the screen in her hand. Y/N exhales before tapping the green icon on the phone and bringing it to her ear.

“Hi,” Y/N says softly into the phone.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my text earlier,” Mark starts off the conversation with a hard tone of voice as if he’s annoyed. Y/N licks her lips and nods, even though Mark can’t see her.

“Yeah, um, sorry, work got busy,” she lies. She had the time to text him back, she just didn’t know what to say as her thoughts were clouded with how to break up with him.

“Did you get them?” Mark asks.

“The flowers? Yeah, I did,” Y/N sighs. She’s racking her brain on how to do this. How do you break up with someone over a phone call? She shakes her head and brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Mark, we need to talk,” she says, feeling that’s the best she can do - the good ol’ classic line.

“Yeah, we do,” Mark agrees with a sigh from him now. Y/N listens as it’s like something shuffles on the other end of the phone, as if Mark switches his phone from one ear to the other. “Look, Y/N, you’re a wonderful girl, truly, you are. But we’re not really benefiting from this, are we?” Mark says, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as her brows pinch together.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N questions.

“Uh, yeah-”

“No, no, I’m breaking up with you. I have thought long and hard about this for days now, and I don’t think we should be together anymore, Mark,” Y/N blurts out quickly, feeling as though her moment that she’s been talking herself up to all day was being taken away from her. She releases the grip she had on her hair and stares straight ahead at the painting on her wall, waiting for Mark to say something.

He lets out a long breath, “then I guess this is a lot easier for the both of us then, huh?” He says. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief.

“I guess so,” she mumbles.

“I’ll uh, I’ll send my assistant over soon for any of my things I’ve left at your apartment. She’ll bring the few things of yours that are at my place too. Are you available tomorrow?” Mark explains, asking the question so casually too. In fact, he sounds like he’s distracted with something on his end of the call too.

“Have you had this planned for a while now or something?” She asks, her eyebrows only pull together tighter in confusion. How can he act so unbothered only seconds after breaking up with her? She thinks. Sure, it’s a mutual break up, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t bothered by it still.

“Uh, no,” Mark mutters, not sounding convincing at all. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at herself - how did she even date this guy?

“You know what, whatever,” Y/N breathes out as her eyes close and she runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll be home from work around five in the evening tomorrow for your assistant to come by. Tell her to be on time, please,” she tells Mark.

“Alright,” he says. There’s a couple beats of silence between them, and she doesn’t feel upset over it at all. In fact she feels at peace with this breakup. She supposes that they didn’t date for long, and they never said I love you to each other and really didn’t spend too much time with one another the past two months. Maybe that’s why she’s not bothered by this break up at all.

“Well, it was fun, Mark,” Y/N says, “I wish you the best,” she adds.

“You too, Y/N,” he replies. And with that, Y/N brings the phone from her ear and ends the call. Staring at the screen that was on Mark’s contact info for a few minutes as she lets herself fall into her thoughts.

That was a lot easier than she imagined it to be earlier today. Y/N falls back on her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she holds her phone to her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. Did he have this planned though? She finds herself thinking. She imagines that he sent those flowers earlier to butter her up, maybe, before he called to break her heart only hours later. And having already made plans for his assistant to go through his apartment and bring her things to her. Maybe he already had gathered her things beforehand, meaning over a week ago he would have packed it up - only to come over to her house and fight with her for days on end before making her drive him to the airport. Y/N just shakes her head as her thoughts run wild.

Y/N knows exactly what she needs to do to get out of this overthinking stage that she’s got herself into. She gets up from her bed and opens her closet, her figure skates sitting on the bottom of the closet leaning nicely against each other. She finds an empty tote bag and tosses them inside, then quickly gets dressed into a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a plain white turtleneck long sleeve, and then layering by putting on a dark grey crew neck that has ‘LA’ in white writing across the front.

After making sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, she puts on a black puffer jacket and heads out her front door. Harry’s walking out of the elevator just as Y/N is locking up, he’s got a Starbucks hot drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Harry says, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes the time, “where are you off to?” He wonders. Y/N brushes her hair from her face and lets out a small sigh.

“It’s, like, two weeks till Christmas and I haven’t gone skating yet, so I just got up and grabbed my skates to go out,” she explains, lifting her shoulder that her tote bag was hanging off. Her skates are poking out the top slightly, Harry notices the white figure skates with a pair of matching light pink guards on the bottom.  

“Oh, fun,” Harry nods, meeting her eyes again.

Y/N doesn’t even think twice before she’s asking, “did you want to come with me?”

Harry smiles, causing Y/N to mirror him, before he takes a few moments to nod in response. “I would love to, yeah,” Harry clears his throat, noticing how overly excited he may have sounded. “I should dress a bit warmer, though, it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he tells her, motioning to his apartment door down the hall.

“Good call,” Y/N says, following him to his doorway. Harry holds open his door for her after unlocking it, then letting it close softly behind them as he takes off the lighter jacket he had on. Y/N smiles at the decorations around his apartment, loving how the glow from the lights of his tree filled up the space around them before he can turn on any lights.

“I don’t have my own skates, suppose I’m not a real New Yorker like that,” Harry states as he opens the closet beside his front door and starts ruffling around in order to find where his scarfs were hiding.

“That’s fine,” Y/N says with a soft chuckle, turning around to watch as he sticks his head into the closet and pushes things around. “They have rentals at Bryant Park,” she tells him.

“I’ve never been,” Harry admits. He finally gets a hold of the long burgundy scarf with a brown leaf pattern on it, his mum had gifted it to him a few years back. Harry pushes the doors of his closet closed and puts the scarf down for a moment, hanging it on the door handle before he grabs his long black coat to slip it on. Once he’s got that on, he wraps the scarf around his neck, fixing the collar of his coat and the scarf so it’s comfortable.

“You’ve really never been to Bryant Park?” Y/N asks surprisingly. It wasn’t Central Park by any means, but anyone who lived in the Manhattan area typically had walked through Bryant Park.

“Nope,” Harry says, grabbing for his forgotten Starbucks drink, bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. He looks up at Y/N to find her smiling at him. “What?” Harry questions.

“Nothing, I’m just excited for you to see Bryant Park. It’s beautiful during the Winter,” she states.

“Well then, let’s not waste any time, come on,” Harry nods his head to the door and gives her a smile while holding it open for her. She thanks him, waits for him to lock the doors before they fall into step with one another to the elevator. Harry beats her to hitting the button, literally leaning in front of her in order to push the down button before she can. Y/N shakes her head at him, smiling.

“So how was your time at the cafe earlier?” Y/N asks Harry, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“It was good,” Harry says, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Y/N, “wrote another song about love,” he adds with a smile. Y/N chuckles and raises her eyebrows.

“Never would have guessed,” she teases him.

The whole walk to Bryant Park, all Harry can think about is when the hell was the last time he skated? That and how good Y/N looked, which is a thought that’s always going through his head, to be honest. But he’s stressing himself out, hoping and praying that some sort of muscle memory clicks in and he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Y/N. God, maybe he should have just saved himself the embarrassing situation and declined her invitation. Harry knew the moment he looked into her eyes there was something a bit off with her; how her smile didn’t quite reach its full potential - so the moment she asked if he wanted to come along with her, he didn’t even think twice before saying yes. The girl has her own figure skates, Harry wouldn’t doubt it if she’s about to skate circles around him.

“All black outfit,” Y/N comments as she watches Harry pick out a pair of black skates in his size, “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear all black before,” she adds with a smile.

“I used to only wear all black,” he admits, “back in uni, I really didn’t venture out in fashion and only wore black jeans and black t-shirts basically all year,” he explains to Y/N, letting her lead the way to the area for skaters to sit on the many benches and do up their skates.

“I truthfully can’t even imagine that,” Y/N replies, taking a seat on the bench right by the open door to the ice rink. She looks out at the about forty people on the ice, lit up by the many Christmas lights hanging over it and a few light posts in each corner too, as the sun has fully set now. The city around them is still hustling and bustling as it always is, which makes her smile.

“It was a tragedy, but I got older and realized that fashion can be fun, especially after moving to New York, seeing what people wear out for some innocent ice skating,” he mentions, taking in Y/N’s fashion forward outfit. The style was very trendy these days, he had noticed - online and in the streets.

“I would be an abomination of a former FIT student if I just walked around New York City in leggings and a hoodie,” Y/N states, “if I’m going somewhere, with someone, I always feel the need to look good.”

“And you do, by the way, look good,” Harry says, his words coming out quick and in a bit of a stumble. Y/N can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She says a quiet ‘thank you’ before she begins to lace up her skates.

Y/N has her skates done up before Harry, so she has an extra minute to take out her phone and open her Instagram app. She checks out her newest comments, liking a few, before she finds herself aimlessly scrolling through her feed and liking some posts there. Checking up on Harry, she notices he’s almost done doing up his skates, so she stands up and grabs her tote bag that now holds her skate guards and chunky black boots.

“Did you want to lock anything up?” Y/N asks Harry, motioning to the small lockers to their left.

He shakes his head, “no thank you,” he says before his attention is back on tying his skates. Y/N smiles at how his tongue pokes out just slightly passed his lips before she turns around and walks over to lock up her tote bag, making sure everything but her phone is inside.

Once the small locker door is closed, she walks over to the wall of the ice rink and opens her Instagram again, putting on a quick filter that makes it look like it’s being filmed with an old film camera before she pans her camera around while holding down the button on the screen. As she turns to face where Harry is, she cuts off the video and double checks he’s not in it. With having so many followers, she always makes sure that her friends and family are comfortable with being posted before doing so. Y/N adds a quick caption of ‘first skate this season’ with a white heart emoji before she posts it to her story, then she slips the phone into her back pocket and walks over to where Harry sat waiting for her.

“Ready?” Harry asks, smiling up at her.

“Yup,” she nods, smiling back at him. Harry nods, muttering ‘alright’ under his breath, and then stands up on wobbling legs. Y/N chuckles and reaches for his elbow, helping him stand up straight. “You’ve skated before, right?” She asks, realizing now that she only assumed that he had.

“Uh, it’s been a few years,” Harry admits, flashing another nervous smile her way. All he can think about is her hand on his arm, and how she hasn’t let go of him yet. Harry hadn’t even thought about the potential arm holding, or hand holding maybe, they could get into here. She has a boyfriend, he reminds himself over and over again as he watches her lips tug up as she smiles back at him again.

“Alright, we’ll take it slow then,” she assures him, pulling at his arm gently to get them moving forward on their skates.

Y/N takes the first step onto the shining ice, letting her blades slide over the top slowly before she takes a sharp turn and is in front of Harry in an instant. His eyebrows fly up his forehead as his eyes fall down to her skates again, noticing how worn out they look now, her left foot lifting up as she sticks the toe of her skate blade into the ice - her whole stance made her look like some sort of professional. Harry’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze, lips now smirking at his stunned expression.

“You’ve been skating a lot before then, hm?” Harry gulps, looking back down at his feet as he inches slowly to the ice.

“Since I was a kid,” Y/N reveals. He’ll touch more on it later, but first he wants to get himself onto the ice and get this embarrassment over with. Harry sighs and starts to place his right foot into the ice, letting out a deep breath as he does but just as quickly as he makes the move he’s slipping. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, ready to fall before he even has both feet on the ice. But both of Y/N’s arms fly out and grab a hold of his forearms, causing him to wrap each of his hands around her much smaller forearms.

Harry shakes his head and just decides to get it over with, pushing both skates onto the ice in a quick motion. Y/N is fully prepared for his sudden movement and skates backwards, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way. She keeps a tight grip on Harry’s arms and smiles as she looks up at him and sees the stressed out look on his face.

“You’re doing great,” Y/N assures him, her voice causing Harry to look down and meet her soft eyes. “We can move a bit closer to the wall so you can hang onto it for the first bit?” She suggests, motioning to the wall beside them.

“Probably for the best,” Harry agrees, nodding his head and finally taking his eyes off Y/N’s in order to make his way to the wall. The few movements on his part aren’t as hard as he thought they’d be to get over to the wall. He thinks his muscle memory for skating will click in soon, hopefully.

Y/N takes it slow beside Harry, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to only need one hand on the wall before she lets go of his arm. She already misses the warmth from his touch. Not even one day into her and Mark’s break up and she’s already feeling touch deprived. To be fair, her and Mark hadn’t so much as given each other a few quick pecks and barely snuggling on the couch the last couple days they were together. Y/N shakes her head slightly at her thoughts of Mark.

“So how did you get into skating?” Harry asks after a few moments of them finding a slow pace.

“Um,” Y/N pauses as she thinks of how to explain how her parents didn’t want to spend much time with her, so they stuck her into many different hobbies to fill the void. “I was into a lot of the typical little girl hobbies, dancing, gymnastics, art, but figure skating was something that just really stuck with me as I grew up. Probably in connection with my obsession with the holidays, and the winter season,” Y/N explains, noticing already how Harry’s pace on his skates is picking up.

“Are you, like, really good?” Harry questions. Y/N chuckles and looks away from the ice below them to meet his gaze before he’s glancing down at his skates again in order to keep upright.

“Yup,” Y/N nods, rolling her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.

“So humble,” Harry jokes with a chuckle. “You could probably skate circles around me, huh? Do those little twirly things too?”

“I could do a few spins, yes,” Y/N says and nods her head. “I’ll let you get used to the ice first before I throw out any big moves,” she adds, looking down at how Harry’s feet were moving on the ice. Every minute he is getting better, soon enough he’ll let go of that wall and be able to skate in slow laps around the rink with her.

“How very considerate of you,” Harry notes, causing the both of them to chuckle again.

They do another two laps with Harry’s hand just inches away from the wall, hovering over it just in case he made the wrong move. But then soon enough, they’re mixed in with the other skaters and making strong, smooth strides across the ice. Y/N is laughing at something Harry says about how he must look like Bambi on ice, head thrown back and eyes crinkled up, when Harry just about falls. She catches him gasping and opens her eyes quickly before catching his hand in hers.

“You okay?” She asks, clear concern in her voice as she moves in order to meet his eyes. Harry knows this isn’t the first time they’ve sort of held hands, but it still feels like her skin is too warm for his cold touch and butterflies erupt in his stomach as she cards their fingers together so effortlessly. Damn Styles grow some balls and don’t let her make all the first moves, he thinks to himself.

“‘M alright,” Harry mumbles and nods, completely losing focus on the world around them as they float across the ice looking into each other's eyes and holding hands.

Y/N licks her lips, blinking up at Harry in what feels like an innocent way but realizes the moment his gaze drops to her lips that maybe it isn’t. Clearing her throat, she squeezes Harry’s hand and then slowly lets go. Harry can’t help but feel disappointed by how short they’d held hands for, he was hoping it would at least last a whole lap around the rink. Y/N shivers and sticks both of her hands into her coat pockets, playing off letting go of his hand with being cold, but in reality touching Harry’s skin made her feel like she was on fire.

“Tell me what your favourite colour is,” Harry blabs out loud suddenly.

Y/N furrows her brows and looks up at Harry. He’s no longer watching the ice with each stride of his skates, instead his posture is completely at ease almost as he seems much more confident on the ice now. Something tells Y/N that Harry is stupidly good at pretty much anything and if he doesn’t get it right the first time it would only take a few more before he masters it.

“It changes almost every other day,” Y/N admits, biting down on her bottom lip - which causes Harry’s eyes to flicker down to her lips yet again. “Lately it’s been green,” she exclaims, as she speaks Harry’s gaze falls back to her eyes.

“Like my eyes?” Harry teases, batting his eyelashes.

There’s suddenly a group of teenagers in their way, causing their conversation to pause as they have to maneuver around the few bodies. Harry finds that he doesn’t struggle at all with the quick movements he has to make with his skates in order to get around them. He smiles to himself, proud of how fast he’s picked up skating again. Maybe he’ll try the little twirly spin around Y/N to impress her. Too bad she’s much more talented on skates and is picking up speed before making a quick turn and is now skating backwards in front of Harry with her eyes narrowed and a tight smile on her lips.

“Firstly, that was a poor set up to try and get a compliment out of me, I’ll just tell you that your eyes are very pretty,” Y/N states. Harry smiles at her words, those pesky butterflies back in his stomach once again. “And second, my favourite green is more like a dark, rich, forest green,” she explains, quickly looking over her shoulder as they turn the corner of the rink. Harry notices how effortlessly she picks up her skates and crosses them over each other to smoothly take the turn.

“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry wonders.

Y/N smiles and nods, “exactly, like a Christmas tree,” she says, a beat of silence between them before she asks, “what’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink,” Harry answers without missing a beat. It’s been his favourite for years now, since he was just a young lad.

“Like my lips?” Y/N teases, her voice dropping down into a low and soft tone that causes a fire to spark in the pit of Harry’s stomach. His eyes drop to her lips at the mention of them, which Y/N notices and smirks at him before she’s turning on her skates and facing forward again. They both don’t say anything as they skate around the other turn of the rink, avoiding an older couple that has slowed down in front of them. Y/N still has a smug look on her face when Harry glances to his left where she skates beside him. Obviously, yes, exactly like the shade of your lips, Harry thinks and wishes he had the guts to say aloud.

“More like,” Harry pauses and then smiles, “like the Pink Panther,” Harry jokes.

“You know what, fair enough,” Y/N chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.

The two of them continue to ask each other more random favourites, getting the basics down with favourite foods, favourite alcoholic drinks, and favourite word too, of course. In fact, they are just skating at a leisurely pace for quite some time. Y/N notices that the number of people on the rink dwindles down to a mere twenty and she lifts her Apple watch up, so it lights up and shows her the time. Bryant Park should be closing within an hour or two, depending if they’re on holiday hours yet, meaning that Harry and her have spent nearly two hours out on the ice together.

“I think it’s time you bust out some of those fancy figure skating moves,” Harry suddenly says unprovoked. Y/N furrows her brows and shakes her head, watching a young couple, just a few people ahead of them, holding hands, like how she wishes her and Harry could have been this entire time. But it’s too soon, she thinks.

“I don’t know,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her eyes still on the couple as they’re laughing together - much like how her and Harry have been. Did these strangers around them think they were a couple?

“Fine,” Harry huffs and starts to skate a bit faster to be a few strides ahead of Y/N before he comes to a wobbly stop a bit more into the middle of the rink out of everyone's way. Y/N comes to a much smoother stop in front of him. “I’ll give it a shot then, how hard can it be to spin around a few times.”

Famous last words, Y/N thinks as Harry tries to whip his body around to try and attempt to do a spin. She can already see how he’s lifting the toe of his left skate, the small ridges getting caught on the ice while his body is still trying to spin around. Y/N’s eyes widen as she suddenly tries to stop him, her hands just barely getting a hold of his arms before he can fall. But his weight is too much and her skates slip out from under her. A small screech escapes her mouth as the two of them begin their fall to the ice - for surprisingly the first time tonight. Harry turns them both so he gets the worst of the fall, moving Y/N so she falls more on top of him rather than on the ice. Y/N notices and quickly moves her hand to the back of his head to ensure he doesn’t smack it against the hard surface. Her fingers card through his hair, while her other hand is clenching into a fist around the fabric of his coat.

“Shit,” Harry groans as the bodies fall to the ice. Thankfully, he tries to sit up a bit during the fall, so he doesn’t hit his head but instead he feels immediately pain shot up his elbow and backside.

“Oh my god,” Y/N gasps, blinking several times as she takes in what had happened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks Harry in a rush of words.

“I’m okay,” he nods, which causes Y/N to realize her hand is still brushing through his hair. She rubs his scalp a few times with her thumb before removing her hand and quickly lifting her body off of Harry’s. “I’ll probably have a bruised ass, but I guess that’s karma,” he tries to joke.

Y/N frowns and smacks his arm gently, “don’t pull that shit again, oh my god, I thought we were going to end our night in the ER.”

Harry chuckles and sits up, taking in how Y/N has sat up on her knees with both her hands resting on her thighs. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her eyes wide and wild with emotion - but otherwise she looks alright. Thankfully, Harry did good and kept her safe in their fall.

“Just need a few ice packs and maybe a joint before bed to ease the pain,” Harry says, only half joking.

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together, “do you smoke weed?” She asks. To be honest, she couldn’t imagine Harry as some pothead. Not that there was a true look to a ‘pothead’ these days. Hell, she’s had her fair share of joints and edibles while in college. Even afterwards too, Sammy loved to roll a joint or two towards the end of their wine nights.

Harry shrugs and begins to get up from the ice slowly. “Not really. It makes me a bit sleepy, truthfully,” he tells her.

“I get that,” Y/N nods, “I don’t smoke often, but when I do, I typically fall asleep within the hour after smoking. It annoys the crap out of Sammy.” She tells Harry truthfully. Harry nods as well, only a little bit surprised to learn that Y/N didn’t say no to drugs in her youth. Not that he was judging, far from it really cause he had no room to judge, but he just simply didn’t imagine her consuming anything more than a bottle or two of wine.

The two of them get up off the ice now, finally getting back on their feet. A sigh leaves Y/N lips as she brushes her hands on her jeans. “I think you falling is our cue to get out of here,” she suggests, skating slowly backwards towards the doorway where the benches were.

“You’re probably right,” Harry agrees and begins to follow her, trying not to whine with his movements as a sharp pain stings his bottom with each stride of his skates.

Y/N leaves Harry to sit on the bench they had used before and goes over to unlock her locker and get her tote bag. Harry’s lucky no one stole his shoes he had just left under the bench with no care in the world, she thinks as she walks back over and sits beside him. She unties her skates and is slipping on her boots before Harry can even untie one of his skates. Y/N puts the guards on her skates and places them into her tote bag before turning to look at Harry, noticing the pained look in his face as he bends forward to work on the laces of his other skate.

“Did you need help?” She asks him.

“No,” Harry pauses to hiss in pain, “I’m fine,” he adds, but Y/N just rolls her eyes and scoots over on the bench till she’s nearly pressing right up against Harry’s side, leaning down in order to work on his laces.

Harry watches her nimble fingers untie and loosen the laces, noticing how her hair falls as she bends down further. A faint smell of roses hits him with the movement of her hair as she pushes it back away from her line of sight. Harry looks away, glancing around them to see if anyone’s watching them because from any other view it may look like Y/N is giving him-

“There you go,” Y/N says with a smile and sits up again. Harry looks at his skates to see them completely loosened and ready for him to slip off easily.

“Thanks,” Harry says quietly with a smile.

After Harry has his trusty not-so-white vans on, they walk over to return his rentals and make their way out of the ice rink area of Bryant Park. Harry notices the shops around the park, the painted white frames and clean windows were rather pleasing to look at while the inside glows with soft yellow lights. He wonders what they sell, but notices Y/N hiding a yawn behind her hand and decides it’s probably best they just head home. Also, his ass really did hurt with each step he took.

“Would you like to get a hot cocoa before we walk home?” Harry suggests, pointing to the small shack that was open and looks like it serves hot drinks and a few treats maybe.

“I would love that,” Y/N answers with a bright smile.

Her heart can’t help but burst at the thought that Harry knows her so well already. Not even a month of knowing one another and he already is so much better than Mark ever was. He would never go skating with her or buy her a nice warm drink afterwards either. It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend anymore, Y/N finds herself reminding herself, which causes her heart to pitter patter in her chest again. This time thinking about how maybe Harry could maybe be her boyfriend, one day.

“Hi,” Y/N gives the small brunette at her front door a tight smile.

She’s almost thirty minutes later than Mark said she would be. But to be fair, the subway was later than usual on her way home so Y/N had only just gotten home ten minutes ago. She had texted Mark to let him know and relay the message to his assistant, but he didn’t answer, no surprise there. So, in hindsight it wasn’t the biggest deal that his pretty little assistant was late.

What the big deal was the way she just strolled into Y/N’s apartment and set the box of her things on the couch. Y/N is standing by her door still in disbelief, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the girls behaviour. When she turns around and gives Y/N a funny look while pointing around at her Christmas decor.

“It looks like Mrs Claus threw up in here,” she says.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters and walks over to where she stood by the couch. Mark’s assistant steps back, pulling out her phone and tapping away at the screen as she seems bored to be here. “I’ll go get Mark’s things,” Y/N says, but then just as she’s about to walk away her eyes catch something red near the top of the box of her things that Mark had packed up.

She pushes her favourite Eagles shirt out of the way and hooks one finger around the lacy red fabric. The Victoria’s Secret label sticks out of the barely there red thong that’s hanging off her index finger. Y/N doesn’t recognize the underwear, she thinks as her head begins to spin. How the fuck did a pair of woman's underwear get into this box of things Mark packed up? Why would he have a red thong at his apartment that wasn’t Y/N’s? What the actual fuck? Another round of questions are about to spew in Y/N’s head as her heart beats out of her chest but then suddenly Mark’s assistant is reaching for the lacy fabric and taking it out of Y/N’s grasp.

“Oh, those are mine. Must’ve slipped in by accident,” she stammers out the words. Y/N’s head is spinning, her heart is beating out of her chest, as she puts the pieces together.

“Really? A thong just slipped into the box?” Y/N urges, narrowing her eyes at the young brunette standing in her living room. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?” Y/N asks and raises her voice, the anger filling her whole body now.

“Ex boyfriend,” the brunette has the guts to utter out.

“Answer the damn question,” Y/N snaps back at her.

Her face is turning red, to match the stupid thong in her hands, “uh, it’s none of your business-”

“Just tell me!” Y/N shouts, feeling like she deserves some truth in this moment. Mark’s assistant visibly gulps, avoiding Y/N’s eyes and looks all around the room.

“Like, a few months,” she mutters under her breath, still not meeting Y/N’s burning gaze.

Her whole body is shaking with the anger coursing through her. She should have known. How could she be such an idiot? She thinks while shaking her head. Of course, Mark was cheating on her during the entirety of their relationship. They were only dating for four months, meaning that for at least half of it, he was busy screwing his fucking assistant - how unbelievably cliche of him, but also how unbelievably naive of her to not guess. Y/N brings a hand to her forehand and rubs at her temple as a headache begins.

“Can I just get Mark’s stuff and go-”

“Get. Out.” Y/N spits out the words, glaring at the brunette who has the audacity to be so nonchalant about being the other woman.

“What about his things?” Mark’s assistant all but winces out the words, her dark eyebrows pulling together.

“Tell Mark to eat a dick,” Y/N sneers, taking a step towards the girl which causes her to step back. She can’t deny the bit of joy she feels at the sight of fear in the girls eyes. “And get out of my apartment, now!” Y/N shouts at the woman.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, turning around and walking to the front door.

Y/N is hot on her heels, making sure to slam to door shut behind her. The moment she’s left to herself, her apartment falling silent around her, she feels the pain settle in. Mark cheated on her with his assistant that he then had the nerve to let come over to her apartment. The realization of how embarrassing this whole situation is hits her, along with the hurt too. Regardless if it was a mutual break up, being cheated on does not feel good. Y/N sniffles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she suddenly is holding back sobs. Tears fall down her cheeks while her brain runs wild thinking of how many times Mark could have fucked his assistant and then just waltzed into her apartment and then they-

Her thoughts are cut short as she’s bolting to her bathroom, throwing the door open and bending down in front of the toilet. She lifts the seat and empties her stomach into the bowl. After a moment she’s coughing, lifting her head out of the toilet and reaching for the lever to flush away any contents that were in her stomach. Y/N grabs the hand towel to her right and brings it to her mouth, wiping away the bit of drool at her lips.

Y/N can feel the vibration from her cell phone after a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor, zoned out on the shower and thinking about how stupid she could have been to trust Mark. She lets out a short sigh and reaches into her back pocket to find her buzzing phone. Her eyes roll on instinct of seeing Mark’s contact photo taking up her screen. A part of her wants to answer, to yell and to scream at him. But a bigger part of her feels sick to her stomach again and just tired, honestly. So, she ignores the call and opens her phone to her contacts and deletes Mark all together. She goes into her photos and does a quick sweep of any photos of them together. It was something she was going to do eventually anyways, but after the news of him being a cheating piece of shit she couldn’t waste another second before getting rid of anything involving Mark.

Mark is a fucking asshole. His precious little assistant came by to drop off my few things and one of her thongs was in the box, so she spilled the beans that she had been sleeping with Mark for months. Meaning that piece of absolute trash was cheating on me like the entire time we were together. Y/N types out the message to Sammy, making sure that he knows the drama first - but also just simply because he’s her best friend.

Sammy is typing back a response as Y/N stands up from her spot by the toilet, flushing it again due to her spitting a few times into the bowl, and then she quickly washes her hands and looks up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, her hairs a bit frizzy and out of place from the perfect curls she had earlier today, and her makeup is ruined. She decides to wash her face, drying it with a clean towel as her phone vibrates on the counter.

Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m going to kill him. Please tell me we have a murder plan, I know where we can hide the body. Did you want to talk about it? I can come over and bring a big bottle of tequila? Sammy sends each sentence as a separate text, adding a few choice emojis too. The knife is used many times. His enthusiasm makes Y/N chuckle but then she’s frowning again while walking out of the bathroom and to her bedroom.

Honestly, I just want to curl up in bed and cry it out some more while listening to some sad music. But I’ll keep you updated on any murder plans I think up. Y/N sends back her texts before throwing her phone down on her bed.

Letting out another sigh, Y/N strips out of her tight fitting pants and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants. Next, she takes off the collared button up shirt she had worn tucked into her pants today, hanging it back up in her closet to prevent it from getting wrinkled. Her eyes wander around her bedroom, a certain article of clothing was on her mind to put on and snuggle into bed with. Y/N smiles as she sees Harry’s black hoodie on the top of her laundry hamper. To be honest, it needed to be washed, but she needed the comfort of his oversized clothing more. So, she tugs it on, puts her hair into a messy topknot bun, and tugs down the hood before lifting the blanket and getting into bed.

Not even three songs into her ‘depressed? yeah, me too’ playlist of sad songs, there was a knock on Y/N’s front door. At first she thinks of ignoring whoever it is, but then her music is cut off as a phone call comes through. It’s Mark’s number, regardless that she just deleted his contact, she still knew his phone number. Y/N groans and gets out of bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she imagines Mark or that little assistant of his having the balls to come to her apartment again and demand for his few things he had left around here. Y/N narrows her eyes and unlocks her door, ready to glare at her sad excuse for an ex boyfriend - but her face instantly softens at the sight of Harry standing there.

“Nice jumper,” Harry comments. A smile on his lips as he takes in how Y/N looks in his clothing, days after he had lent it to her. But that smile vanishes when he notices the redness in her eyes and her pouting lips. “What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his voice full of worry as he fights back reaching for her and bringing her in for a hug.

Y/N sniffles, “um, I thought you were Mark, sorry,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Oh, sorry, is he coming over?” Harry questions. Suppose it made more sense for her boyfriend to comfort her during a bad day, he thinks although it tears him up inside that it can’t be him.

“No, no, he’s in Arizona, or somewhere. I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs, her voice sounding brittle, like it’s about to crack at any second, as she tries to keep herself composed in front of Harry. “I don’t really care actually, we broke up,” she reveals, her gaze down at the floor. Harry’s wearing those dirty white vans again, she wonders if he wears anything else.

They broke up, holy shit don’t freak out Styles, keep it together, Harry’s thoughts are all jumbled up at the news of Y/N and her boyfriends break up, which she is clearly very upset over, judging by her appearance and how she’s sniffling every second - bringing the sleeve of his Columbia jumper to her face to wipe her nose. Harry frowns and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” Harry says softly, “break ups can really suck,” he adds - knowing from experience just how terrible break ups can leave a person feeling.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathes out and looks up at Harry now, “but he’s kind of a trash human so it’s for the best, honestly,” she tells him, letting out a breathy chuckle while shaking her head. She shouldn’t be crying so damn much over the guy, she thinks.

“Oh, well then, fuck that guy,” Harry agrees with a nod of his head.

Y/N lets out a genuine chuckle at his words. She brings a hand, that is covered by the cuff of Harry’s hoodie, to her forehead to swipe back any crazy wispy hairs that are in her face. “So, what brought you to knock on my door?” She asks, smiling as Harry realizes he had gotten distracted by her state and forgot why he knocked at all.

“Right,” Harry chuckles, “um, a few friends of mine are in this band, it’s nothing crazy they just play at the pub a few blocks away. And I was wondering if you weren’t busy if you wanted to come with, thought it could be fun. But if you’re not in the mood to leave your home I understand,” Harry explains to her.

“No, I would love to come with,” Y/N insists. She lets out another chuckle and motions to her current appearance. “Just not looking like this, and as long as you promise there will be liquor involved in this Saturday night out.”

“I’ll buy you as many drinks as you need,” Harry promises with a smile.

“Then count me in,” Y/N says, mirroring his big dimpled smile. “Just give me some time to get ready?”

“You’ve got plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for another hour and a half,” he tells her. “I’ll let you get to it,” he adds, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he takes a step away from her doorway.

“Oh, I’ll wash the sweater and give it to you soon, by the way,” Y/N says, lifting both her arms before letting them fall to her sides. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“Keep it as long as you need, it’s no problem, honestly,” Harry tells her while flashing a grin her way, hoping that it makes her feel even a little bit better. And it does, his casual response to her wearing his hoodie and then those dimples - it had her stomach fluttering. She gives Harry a small timid smile, tucking her chin down slightly into the collar of the hoodie as she watches his walk backwards down the hall to his door. “I’ll come knocking again in a bit,” Harry adds before he’s out of her sight and she’s closing her front door shut once again.

Y/N absentmindedly brings her hand to her mouth, biting on her nails as she stares off at her Christmas tree - though the lights are blurry due to her zoning out. You can do this, Y/N thinks and begins to give herself a pep talk of getting out of the sad break up phase and going out with Harry and his friends. Oh my god, Y/N’s eyes widen at her thoughts, what am I going to wear?

Y/N felt overdressed.

After twenty minutes of ripping apart her closet and tearing items out of her dresser drawers, she was truly tempted to just keep on Harry’s hoodie, pair it with some good jeans and some red heeled boots and call it a day. But that would be weird, showing up to hang out and meet Harry’s friends while dressed in his clothing. She was sure they were already going to assume things with him just bringing her along. Y/N didn’t need them thinking they had sex before too.

The thought had made Y/N blush like crazy as she tore off the stupidly comfortable hoodie and grabbed a silky white top that plunged low in the neckline, tying off just at her belly button, and then had long flowy sleeves. Pairing this with her trusted pair of light blue jeans, and for accessories: some chunky gold hoop earrings and layered gold necklaces to fill up the amount of skin she was showing at her chest. To top it all off, she slipped into her go-to black Balenciaga boots and long brown jacket to keep warm. After heading into the bathroom quickly, she brushed her hair through again and restyled the curls, put on a touch of light makeup, and then made sure to stick her lip gloss in her small black purse just as Harry was knocking on her door again.

Harry was dressed in a grey t-shirt with a large yellow smiley face, brown trousers and a blue and cream plaid jacket that quite literally made chills wash over Y/N’s body when she saw the whole fit - but that jacket, it made her head spin with some rather inappropriate thoughts. She’s a fashion major, can’t blame her for thinking clothing can make someone even more attractive. But even then she should have gotten the vibe of this evening and changed into something more casual.

But she didn’t, so now as she’s walking into a dive bar a few blocks away from the apartment building, she feels very out of place. Everyone’s wearing t-shirts and jeans, it smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes, and was definitely not the place to wear a silky white top that cost about five-hundred-dollars.

“You alright?” Harry's voice is soft and closer, as he steps directly behind Y/N after walking into the bar.

He notices how she crossed her arms at her chest and seemed to tense up almost immediately after walking in. Y/N shivers at the feeling of Harry’s breath falling over her exposed neck, having pushed her hair to lay on her left shoulder while he stood over her right. Y/N is still looking around the bar, trying to put together who may be Harry’s group of friends in this crowded bar.

“Y/N?” Harry tries again, this time placing a delicate hand on the small of her back - barely touching her, that he’s not even sure she’s noticed through her thick jacket. But she does, and she feels dizzy at the sweet gesture.

“Yeah,” she sighs, blinking a few times before looking to her right shoulder at Harry. He’s lips are so close, she thinks while trying her best to keep her eyes on his eyes. “Just feeling a little overdressed,” Y/N admits with a tight smile.

Harry shakes his head, “you look fine, better than fine actually. You look amazing,” Harry watches as Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips for just a split second. He smiles but clears his throat, finding that they’re both blushing at his comment now. “As any FIT student in New York City should, of course,” he adds on to try and make his compliment a little less obvious.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/N smiles.

When Harry saw Y/N for the second time that evening, it was like day and night from the hour before when she answered her door in his hoodie. She looked incredible, and was so out of his league. Dressed like she was going to a photoshoot, hair flowing down her back perfectly, and accessories that made him visibly gulp - he was a sucker for some gold jewelry on a girl, it was a weird weakness of his. And now, standing in the dim lighting of this dingy dive bar, she did look a little out of place, but in the best way possible, like she shined too bright to be in just a dark and depressing place.

“This way,” Harry says, leading the way to where he notices his friends are sitting at a table. They thankfully got his texts about him bringing Y/N with him and had two seats open for the both of them.

“Should we stop at the bar and get a drink?” Y/N asks. She’s honestly unsure how the service works at a place like this. To be honest, she hadn’t been in too many dive bars in her years.

Harry stops, looks behind him at her, and shakes his head. “We have a waitress that works basically every night my friends play, so she’ll come by and get our drinks for us,” he explains to Y/N. She nods, giving him a tight smile, and Harry can’t help but notice how she’s still got her arms crossed at her chest. Is she uncomfortable here? Maybe he can make some shit excuse after the first few songs and get her home.

Harry notices as he’s turned towards Y/N just how much attention is on her. He’s not surprised, seeing how he already realized how much she sticks out in a place like this, but he doesn’t quite enjoy seeing every male’s - and a few girls too - eyes in this place on the girl he’s brought with him. So, he makes the quick decision of holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She looks at Harry’s outstretched hand and feels her breath get caught in her throat. Playing it off, she smiles and reaches forward, watching as his much larger hand envelopes hers and tugs gently to get them moving again. Y/N’s stomach is already full of butterflies and her head is spinning at them holding hands for all of ninety seconds it takes to get to his table full of friends - she needs a drink, stat.

Harry lets go of Y/N’s hand as he approaches his friend's usual table and has to bring his arms up in order to hug Adam, who’s throwing himself into Harry at the sight of him. Harry huffs out a laugh, making a comment about how drunk Adam must be already, to which he responds by smacking Harry’s back a few times and laughing with him. Y/N can’t help it as the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of Harry engulfed in a hug by a man bigger than him. As she’s watching their interaction, she notices how everyone else is watching her. Y/N’s smile falls right away and she finds herself crossing her arms at her chest again.

“Everyone,” Harry speaks a bit louder in order to get everyone's attention as he turns around and holds his arm out to Y/N, which she takes as her singal to step forward for an introduction and smiles timidly at the group of four others at the table. “This is Y/N, Y/N, this is everyone,” Harry announces, smiling at his friends - catching Mitch’s smug look in return.

“Hi,” Y/N says, her voice that soft and gentle tone that he had grown to like, quite a lot, actually.

“I’m Tom,” he’s the first to speak up, offering a hand to Y/N to shake, which she turns just a bit to her left in order to properly greet Harry’s friend. Tom’s got bleached hair that’s not styled and laying flat on his forehead, his roots are a dark brown that match the mustache and bit of bread he’s got. Y/N notices the few different necklaces around his neck while he’s wearing a simple outfit of a black long sleeve and black jeans.

“Jenny,” the woman sitting to Tom's left reaches over the table in order to shake Y/N’s hand. She’s also got bleached hair, and a dazzling smile too. Y/N notices the equally dazzling ring on her finger and she glances down at Tom’s hands to see a wedding band, assuming they are married due to them sitting so closely.

“Mitch,” a long haired young man speaks up just as Y/N and Jenny drop their hands. Y/N meets his gaze and blinks a few times, feeling slightly intimidated by him. Regardless of how he seems like the scrawniest at the table, his eyes just sort of bring Y/N to a stop, but she recovers swiftly and gives him a smile, returning the wave he gives her as it’s too far of a reach to shake hands. Mitch raises a brow at Harry, to which Harry is quick to return. Catching the interaction, Y/N imagines they are the closest of the group. Suppose he’s just a bit protective of his friend bringing a random girl around, Y/N thinks to herself before her attention is grasped by the last person sitting at the table.

“And I’m Adam, the only name you need to remember, obviously,” says the man who had hugged Harry upon their arrival. He’s smiling so widely there’s crinkles near his eyes, which make Y/N feel all warm inside as she stares into his big brown eyes. He’s got a full bread, like Mitch, and matching brown hair that looks like it may need a bit of a trim but he styles it well. Y/N likes his button up shirt that’s a dark navy with little white stars all around it, paired with some plain black jeans.

“It’s really lovely to meet you all,” Y/N says after shaking Adam’s hand, “thank you for letting me come crash your night,” she adds with another timid smile.

“Nonsense, it’s nothing special,” Jenny assures her, waving her hand too before wrapping it around her half full glass of what Y/N assumed was alcohol - or hoped, because she really didn’t want to be the only one drinking tonight.

“Ouch,” Adam scoffs jokingly, “guess your husbands best mates playing is nothing special then, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m hurt, Jenny,” Mitch nods, bringing his glass up to his lips to take a sip of the dark yellow foaming liquid in his tall glass - beer, okay, sweet, so we’re all drinking, good, Y/N thinks. She also notices that Mitch is the only one with an American accent. She wonders how this group all became friends, being from different parts of the world, where did they all connect?

Harry chuckles and shakes his head at his friends, looking to Y/N to find her smiling at his mates too. He places a hand on her elbow, causing her to look at him. He nods his head to the open seats on the other side of the table for them. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and begins to walk around the table, stepping behind Tom and Jenny’s chairs before stopping at the first one on Jenny’s right. Y/N catches Mitch’s stare, now ignoring the conversation at the table to instead watch Harry and her, but she’s quick to look away from his intense gaze and focus on taking her jacket off. Just as she tosses her jacket over the back of her chair, fixing her top in a discreet manner too, a red headed woman steps up in between her and Harry who is also slipping out of his jacket.

“Hey, Harry,” the woman greets him in a sultry tone. If Harry notices the obvious show she puts into her voice, he doesn’t act like it.

“Hey, Amy,” he says quickly, looking at his chair as he pulls it out and takes a seat.

“Running a bit behind your friends tonight, huh? What took you so long?” She asks. Seems she's rather observant of Harry’s presence, Y/N thinks, while she takes her seat and looks anywhere but to her right where the red head - fake red dye too, it was so obvious - back was mere inches away from her.

“I love your top, it’s so stylish,” Jenny comments, causing Y/N to look to her left at Jenny’s dazzling smile again.

“Thank you,” Y/N says, “this may not be the place to wear it, seems more like a casual band tee kind of place,” she notes, narrowing her eyes while looking around at the bar around them. Noticing now just how many neon signs there were in the dark space. The biggest was on the wall behind the small stage, which every table was facing. The bar was at the back of the bar and there were booths lining the wall closest to the door, then a couple of pool tables and gambling machines in the far right of the bar. Y/N had spent too much time in high maintenance bougie bars to find any of this remotely normal - but she didn’t hate it.

“Rubbish, you look hot, definitely got people in here questioning their wardrobe,” Jenny states, gaining Y/N’s attention again, “hell, next time I’m stepping it up to match this energy,” she adds, waving her hands at Y/N’s outfit. 

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “well thanks, but you look incredible already! There’s no need.”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupts the girls suddenly.

Y/N lets out a small breath before turning to face what she’s been ignoring. The flirtatious red head and Mitch’s strong stare. Y/N raises her eyebrows at Harry. She completely ignores how the waitress now stood facing both their chairs, but she did notice how her hand was resting on the back of Harry’s.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Harry asks her, lips turning up into a smile. He can’t help himself, he finds himself smiling so much around her he’s sure he has wrinkles already.

“Oh,” Y/N says, finally looking at the waitress now. Her dark makeup made her blue eyes pop, it was a bit smudged but Y/N assumes she’s too busy working to notice. The waitress, Amy - Y/N reads her name tag, pinned on her tight black v neck shirt that has the bar's name on it - is staring at her, clearly forcing a smile while waiting for Y/N’s answer. “I’ll have tequila and soda water, bring a few lime slices on the side too,” Y/N orders, knowing exactly how Upper East Side she sounds, “please,” she adds with a forced smile that she mirrors from Amy.

“Coming right up,” Amy nods before turning away, not without a lingering gaze on Harry though.

Her obvious fake customer voice was rather annoying, Y/N thinks as her eyes follow her walking back to the bar. She takes note of the crowd around the bar, many waving at the one bartender stationed behind the bar. He looks older and is struggling to keep up with the rush of people. When Y/N turns back around, to face the table again, she catches Harry eyes on her. She scrunches up her nose at him and he chuckles before their attention is taken away by Adam’s deep voice.

“So, Y/N, you're this bloke’s neighbour, huh?” He questions, nodding his head to Harry. Y/N smiles and nods, sitting back in her chair while folding her hands between her thighs.

“Yeah, we just met in passing and ended up becoming friends,” she states, catching Harry nodding in the corner of her eye while he rests an arm on the table and faces towards her as he leans slightly into Mitch. To which Mitch responds by pushing his shoulder gently, making Harry’s smile widen at how he manages to bother his friend so easily.

“Give us the tea. How shit of a neighbour is he?” Adam asks, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

“Hey,” Harry playfully whines at his friends.

“He’s fine, great even,” Y/N tells them, earning another smile from Harry as he watches her.

“Surprising considering he’s a shit roommate,” Mitch comments after taking another long sip of his beer. Harry turns in his chair and glares at Mitch, earning a smirk from him in return.

“I am not,” Harry grumbles.

“When were you two roommates?” Y/N asks, finding herself bringing a hand up to adjust her necklaces. Anything to keep her nervous hands busy. Suppose making new friends wasn’t her biggest strength, it was a rather nerve wracking experience to be honest.

“We just room together when we travel for any work stuff,” Harry answers, meeting her eyes for only a brief second before he’s looking back at Mitch. “Mitch here just likes his beauty sleep, while I have a pretty set morning routine I like to stick to,” Harry explains, looking back at Y/N as he finishes talking.

“Yeah, that starts at like six in the morning like a crazy person,” Mitch huffs jokingly.

“Six is way too early,” Y/N agrees, nodding along with Mitch. “At least give the man till nine,” she adds.

“He’s just being dramatic,” Harry states. Mitch mumbles something under his breath before taking another sip of his beer. Sounded a bit like “say’s the drama queen himself” but Y/N isn’t sure. Regardless, the interaction makes her smile. Just as she’s about to make another comment, Amy returns with hers and Harry’s drinks. Setting his down first with a smile before turning to Y/N and placing the glass of tequila and a small dish of limes too.

“Thank you,” Y/N says. Doesn’t matter if she thought Amy had an attitude problem, Y/N had manners.

“Anything else for the table? Another refill for you boys before you head up on stage?” Amy asks, ignoring Y/N completely and instead turning her back on her and looking at Mitch and Adam. Y/N notices how she leans her body into Harry a bit, her arm resting on the back of his chair again. If Harry notices, he’s oblivious to her motives. It almost makes Y/N laugh at how Harry’s ignoring her. 

“Please,” Mitch nods, lifting his glass to finish off the rest of his beer. Y/N tries to hide her facial expression as she is impressed with how Mitch manages to gulp down the beer so fast, instead bringing her focus to her own drink - which she was looking forward to downing herself honestly.

She picks up a lime wedge and squeezes it over her glass, watching the juices squirt out and into her glass. After she stirs it with her straw, she brings it to her lips and gulps back nearly half of it. Y/N suddenly feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. She sits up slightly in order to slide it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s Mark’s number again. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she declines the call and sets her phone screen down on the table before grabbing ahold of her drink again and having another sip. He sure has some nerve to continue to call numerous times, Y/N thinks as she zones out from whatever Harry and his friends were talking about.

“Y/N grew up in the city, actually,” Harry states. Y/N raises her eyebrows and looks around the table to see everyone’s looking at her now. She’s missed what they were talking about prior so she just spit balls it here and smiles.

“Um, yeah, born and raised,” she nods, “I noticed you all have quite a jumble of accents, where are you all from?” Y/N asks, looking towards Tom and Jenny as they begin to explain where they were separately from before meeting in London.

Harry watches Y/N while his friends speak, mostly because he already knows everything there is about their lives, but also because he likes watching Y/N. Taking in her small mannerisms like how she talks with her hands quite a lot, and how she rubs her ankles together under the table as she listens to Adam talk about his wife and kids back home. They all chat amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing too, for nearly thirty minute before Mitch and Adam are whisked away to the stage. Harry feels his chest bursting as he sits back and watches Y/N interact with his friends as if they are her own. He smiles when she looks his way, her cheeks howling as she sucks on the straw of her second drink - nearly finishing it while staring at him. Harry has to break the gaze as his thoughts run a different less innocent route, causing him to readjust how he’s sitting and clearing his throat just as the lead singer of the band introduces them.

“So, why aren’t you in the band?” Y/N asks as the beginning chords of their opening song play out. She’s leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand while turning her head to Harry - shutting out Jenny and Tom completely but they’re too busy watching the band to care.

“Bold of you to assume I have enough talent to be in a band,” Harry says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass, bringing the straw between her lips and finishing off the tequila and soda water with three squeezed lime slices in it - Harry watched her prepare her drink both times, finding himself intrigued by her drink of choice.

“You are definitely talented enough,” Y/N says, “from the bit I’ve heard through the walls, you’re great with a guitar and I’m assuming I’m right considering that your job revolves around music.”

“Well, they already have a guitar player,” Harry notes, nodding his head towards Mitch who’s strumming away on his guitar. “And he’s one of the best in the business so if I did have any talent, he wipes me out without a question,” Harry insists.

Y/N is about to respond but then the band is starting to really get into the song. She turns her head, sitting up straight again, and watches the band perform. They’re really good, she thinks and starts to bob her head along to the song. Harry tries to not be obvious, but he stares at her for a few moments before facing the stage to watch his mates as well. He smiles as he watches her get into the music, nodding along with the bass line and tapping her foot to the drums. They’re performing one of Harry’s songs. He had written it a couple years back when he had finally settled into New York, hence the title ‘Ever Since New York’. He didn’t sell the song to any big artist, instead he kept it within his personal folder and when Mitch asked if his and Adam’s band could borrow it Harry said yes. It was one of the few personal songs he would let his friends borrow, others were too much of him to let someone else sing.

Y/N is seriously enjoying herself. The tequila has hit her, settling into her body with a constant buzz, and this band was so good. She’s shamelessly swaying her body in her chair and nodding her head back and forth with the beat. To be fair, so was everyone else at the table. Jenny matched her energy perfectly, even throwing an arm around her shoulders as the course of their third song picked up - Jenny knew the lyrics and sang along, causing the two of them to erupt into laughter afterwards. After Jenny turns her attention back to her husband, Y/N looks at Harry and notices him lightly singing along while bobbing his head too. She smiles and ends up watching him instead of the band for maybe a little too long. He turns his head and catches her stare, raising a brow but she just shakes her head and leans closer to him to ensure he can hear her before speaking.

“They’re really good,” she compliments, “like a lot better than some of the mainstream artists I’ve seen recently,” she adds on just as the band finishes up another song.

“Yeah, they are,” Harry nods in agreement, “but the bands really just a hobby for all of them since they are all involved within the industry already.”

“Oh, that’s sick though,” Y/N says, “not everyone’s hobby includes filling up a dive bar in New York City every weekend with people singing along to your songs,” she exclaims. She had looked around the room earlier during the last song to see it wasn’t just the bandmates' friends that knew the words to their songs. Majority of the people in the bar were singing too, clearly being regulars to their sets.

Amy arrives at their table again, setting down everyone's refills in a rush, thankfully being too busy to stop and flirt with Harry. Is that jealousy, Y/N? She questions herself in her head. She ignores her thoughts and brings her new drink to her lips, not even bothering with the lime slices this time as she’s feeling a bit drunk now and honestly could care less. As the band opens their next song with some strong drums and an incredible electric guitar melody, the crowd goes a bit crazy. Y/N furrows her brows and looks at the people at her table, Tom and Jenny are also hollering at the band while Harry is chuckling. He meets her eyes before echoing the crowd and cheering on his friends. Y/N’s eyes widen and she huffs out a laugh before she grabs her phone quickly and opens her Instagram.

Just in time, she opens her Instagram stories as the song picks up and the small crowd that had formed overtime at the front of the stage starts to dance around. Everyone is cheering and singing along, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop in pure amazement. She holds down the button to record and gets a quick ten second video of the band rocking out while the bar sings and goes nuts as the bass line played by Adam kicks in and their drummer flings his body around to play one of the most addicting beats they’ve played so far. Y/N shakes her head and swipes a filter on before tapping on the screen, turning to face Harry - who’s already watching her, of course.

“Does the band have an Instagram?” She asks. To which Harry just shrugs in response, because he really isn’t too sure - he’s not hugely into social media himself.

“They do!” Jenny says with excitement, Y/N turns in her seat and grins at Jenny as she spells out the bands Instagram handle. “I keep trying to get them to stay active on it but they barely do,” she states.

Y/N slips her drink that she holds in one hand and taps ‘post to story’ on her phone that in her other hand. “Well, they might get, like, a few notifications flood in since I tagged them in my story,” Y/N tells her.

“Oh yeah?” Jenny questions. “Are you big on Insta?”

“It’s kind of grown over the years, I just hit half a million last week actually,” Y/N states. Her words cause both Jenny and Tom’s jaws to drop. Suppose it’s quite a big number, Y/N thinks.

“That’s insane, oh my god,” Jenny says, “is social media like your job then?” She asks. Y/N notices how both Tom and Harry are more interested in hearing about her Instagram than the band’s next song, to be fair it is a slower tune, but still it shocks her a bit.

“Um, not really,” Y/N licks her lips, “I have a career at a fashion studio in the city, we style the city’s elite and some celebrities, do their personal shopping and all that. But the social media thing is really just a little add on, I guess,” Y/N explains, pausing a few times as she feels a bit nervous telling them about her following. Some people saw it as a clout thing, asking for shoutouts and tags so her followers would get their follower count up. While others thought it was childish and weird that she was kind of like an influencer in a way.

“Wow,” Harry says, his voice gets Y/N’s attention as she looks towards him now, “how didn’t I know this?” He questions with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “it’s really just like a hobby, barely even that.”

“Like how the band is for Mitch and Adam,” Harry nods.

Y/N smiles and nods with him, “exactly.”

“You’re definitely the coolest girl Harry knows, by the way,” Jenny states, bringing Y/N’s attention back to her left where she sat. Y/N laughs and brushes her hair back over her shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N disagrees and shakes her head, reaching for her drink again to take a few sips.

“No, you definitely are,” Harry corrects her, having a sip of his own drink as well. Y/N puts down her glass and smiles, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.

“I mean, if you say so,” she says in a joking tone. Jenny, Tom and Harry all chuckle, which makes Y/N laugh along with them. The band is talking to the crowd now, mentioning that their weekly gig will not be happening next week due to the holidays. Then they’re explaining something about their next and final song, thanking the crowd before the song starts up.

“This was their first song as a band,” Tom tells Y/N. She smiles and nods, appreciating the insight from him.

The song is catchy, still fitting the bands vibe but definitely isn’t as good as some of the other songs they had played already. Y/N decides to take a final snap of the band on stage on her Instagram story. Mitch’s head is down, his hair falling forward that she can barely tell that it’s him, while Adam is grinning at the crowd which makes Y/N smile as she swipes on a filter to lighten the picture some and types out ‘new fave band alert’ as her caption, finding a red siren gif quickly before posting it to her story. As the song comes to an end the bar erupts into a roar of cheers. Y/N brings her hands to her mouth and hollers along with the bar, grinning as she watches the four boys of the band come together and bow. As they bend down Harry whistles, having both his hands at his mouth, to show his support to his friends.

Y/N widens her eyes and turns quickly to look at Harry, surprised by the loud whistle that came from him. He matches her look, widening his eyes and playing dumb as he slowly lowers his hands from his face. Y/N laughs, slapping a hand on his arm and leaning back, immensely entertained by his actions. Harry laughs along with Y/N till they both calm down and shake their heads. Just as Y/N is about to say something her phone starts to buzz on the table from an incoming call. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s Mark - again.

“Ugh,” Y/N groans and hits decline, unlocking her phone to go to her phone app. “How the hell do you block a phone number?” She asks aloud to no one in particular.

“Is it Mark?” Harry questions in a low voice, leaning towards Y/N to keep his words between them. Y/N frowns but nods her head once. The tequila in her system starts to mess with her, her screen becoming fuzzy as she thinks about all the crap she learnt about Mark earlier today. And now he was ruining her fun out with Harry and his friends.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Y/N asks, turning to Jenny since she would know the location of the women's bathroom over Harry.

“Down the hall in the back corner over there,” she points in that direction and before anyone else can say something Y/N is on her feet with her phone in hand and heading to the bathroom.

Harry looks over his shoulder as he monitors Y/N’s move across the bar. He’s worried about her, obviously, but he’s also watching to make sure no douche bag makes a grab for her. Although he is sure that she could handle it herself. As he turns back to the table he sees both Tom and Jenny staring at him. Harry furrows his brows and brings his drink to his lips, having the final sip of his third drink tonight. Jenny just shakes her head and looks down at her phone, he’s pretty sure she’s looking up Y/N’s Instagram. Tom’s still staring at Harry though.

“What?” Harry finally asks, setting his glass down with the few other empty ones at the centre of the table.

“So,” Tom pauses, “what’s going on here?” He questions, being annoyingly vague.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.

“Well you just show up with this bombshell of a woman, who is beyond anything you could’ve described her as by the way, and we’re all just supposed to forget she’s in a relationship?” Tom questions, tilting his head just slightly to the side as he stares down Harry.

“Firstly, I’m insulted you don’t think we could just be friends,” Harry says, he’s about to continue but Mitch and Adam join the table again. They get a round of ‘good job’ from everyone before Mitch is turning to Harry and furrowing his brows.

“What were you saying before?” He asks.

“That it is just possible for Y/N and I to be friends, but also not that it’s any of your guys business cause it’s not even mine, but her and her boyfriend broke up, like, recently,” Harry informs his friends, dragging his fingertip along the condensation of his empty glass in front of him. He feels silly, having to explain himself for simply bringing along a friend to hangout tonight. But he can’t deny it feels good to know that she is single now. Only to feel bad a second later as he knows that Y/N must be hurting, judging by her drowning herself in tequila drinks and getting upset over Mark calling her.

“Well, shit,” Mitch breathes out. Harry lifts his gaze to find his best mate with his usual smug look on his face. “What are you waiting for then, loverboy, make a move,” Mitch coaxes him.

“Did you not hear me when I said they broke up recently? As in maybe I should just let that settle for a while before I try and make any sort of move,” Harry says.

“Well if you don’t eventually and you let this one go, then you’re a bloody idiot,” Adam resorts, “Y/N is a prize, one evening knowing her and I understand your little crush, H,” he adds with a smile.

“Trust me,” Harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head a bit, “I’m well aware. But seriously guys, I’m just going to let it play out and not force anything. I’m happy to just be her friend, honestly,” he explains. Everyone nods, seeming to understand where Harry is at now with Y/N. Perfect timing, Amy shows up with refills for everyone to get the attention of the group off Harry.

“So, Harry,” Amy says after setting down everyone glasses, turning her body away from Jenny and the empty chair for Y/N to completely face him - her boobs practically in his face. He gives her a polite smile, leaning back in his chair in order to get some distance from her. “Who’s this new girl you brought with you? A cousin or something?” She asks, her body seeming to lean even further towards him as she speaks.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to let Amy know her ridiculous assumptions were wrong. When he hears Y/N’s voice from behind where Amy stood. “Classy,” she mutters under her breath.

Amy rolls her eyes rather dramatically before she turns away from Harry and looks at Y/N as she’s pulling out her chair and returning to her seat. “What did you say?” Amy asks, her voice rather snarky in Y/N’s opinion.

“I said, wow you’re hair colour, it’s like, so classy, I love it,” Y/N resorts, putting on a smile just as fake as her words.

Amy’s lips part, her eyes narrowing at Y/N’s bored stare. Whatever bitchy response she has lined up for Y/N is cut short as Amy’s name is being yelled by the bartender. Her gaze falls behind Y/N, looking at who had called for her, before she meets Y/N’s eyes again. She glares again, huffs out a short breath, and then is nearly stomping away from the table like a child who didn’t get the Barbie doll she wanted to play with - or rather the Ken doll. Y/N’s lips turn up slightly into a smug smile as a feeling of pride flushes over her.

“Yup, it’s official,” Jenny says, bringing Y/N back to reality as she looks away to her left. Jenny is grinning as she brings an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into her side. “You’re one hundred percent the coolest girl Harry knows,” she states, earning a round of laughter from the group.

“You handled Amy like a pro,” Adam notes, then jutting his chin towards Harry, “H is always too nice to let her know how annoying she’s being.”

Y/N smiles and looks at Harry in the corner of her eye, noticing the slight tint of pink upon his cheeks. She flips her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, “I grew up dealing with the snobby Upper East Side kids, Amy is harmless, believe me,” Y/N ensures the group before grabbing for her drink and sucking back a few good gulps.

The group around the table begins to talk about the performance, compliments and praises to Mitch and Adam all around of course. Even a few strangers come up to give them a pat on the back and ask for a picture. They’re like royalty in this dingy little bar.

Y/N is enjoying sitting back and simply being around people, letting herself push away any thoughts of Mark. She had blocked his number while she waited in line for the washroom, then responded to Sammy’s million texts asking where she was and with who - when she told him she was with Harry he just replied with ‘#TeamHarry for the win’, which she rolled her eyes at but ended up smiling down at her phone and texting him a thumbs up back.

When Y/N finished with her business in the rather dirty washroom - the sink barely even worked, it was not ideal - and she saw Amy at the table beside Harry again, Y/N let her jealousy fly. Then when Amy started leaning so far into Harry that her boobs nearly touched his chest, Y/N just couldn’t help it. It was like her vision turned red suddenly, her chest swelling up as she tried to bite down on her tongue. But she couldn’t, she was too annoyed by Amy’s less than classy actions towards her customer.

“Hey,” Harry’s low voice snaps Y/N out of her own world. She blinks and focuses on him, feeling herself melt at the sight of his smile. “Are you okay?” He asks, more than likely referring to her quick departure to the bathroom after Mark called.

“Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and a nod. “I blocked his number, I don’t want to hear his excuses. I could really care less,” she explains to Harry. He nods in response and is about to say something else, about how Mark is a real idiot for whatever he did to hurt her. But Y/N sits up, places a hand on his arm that was resting on the table between then, and gives him another smile. “But enough about him, seriously, I’m feeling a little drunk and having way too much fun here with you to be bothered anymore,” Y/N tells him.

“Alright,” Harry smiles, peering at Y/N as his heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s pretty sure his skin’s tingling from where her hand rests. But it doesn’t last long before she moves, reaching for her glass - that she then raises into the air.

“I would like to make a toast,” Y/N announces to the table, gaining everyone’s attention and smiles, “to Mitch and Adam’s absolutely amazing performance, new friends, and to having a lovely holiday season,” Y/N beams as Harry and his friends cheer in agreement and everyone lifts their glasses into the air.

The group ends up buying shots after, then another round of drinks, and then more shots. Y/N is laughing so much her stomach hurts. She hasn’t been this happy while enjoying others' company in far too long, outside of work of course. Harry makes another joke, teasing Adam, but Adam dishes it back right away. Y/N finds herself letting her hand slip to Harry’s thigh as she throws her head back with laughter at Adam’s absurd comment. Everyone else is too focused on the banter to notice, but Harry does of course. He’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels her delicate fingers spread over his thigh. He gulps, unsure if he wants to break whatever drunken trance that Y/N may be in. Does she realize that she’s put her hand on his thigh? He wonders. But his thoughts are quickly answered as she caresses her thumb along his pants before lifting her hand slowly off of him altogether.

Y/N’s leaning on her elbow again, her chin propped up in the palm of her hand as she looks at Harry. He’s so hot, her drunk self thinks as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down for a second time since she had placed her hand on his thigh. It happened by accident to be honest, but she wasn’t sorry about it. God, she was just itching to touch Harry. His thigh, his arm, maybe rub gentle circles on the back of his neck as he talked amongst his friends, but she wanted to touch his lips more than anything. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty pink lips as he replies to whatever whoever said to him.

Harry catches Y/N’s glossy eyes staring at him in the corner of his eye. He rolls his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. He likes how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off of him, because he does the same thing maybe a little too often. Harry turns his head and meets her gaze, giving her a smirk as she playfully narrows her eyes at him. Her cheeks are rosy from the amount of liquor she’s consumed, while her eyes truly are a bit glossed over from her being more than tipsy. She’s so hot, he thinks, as his eyes shamelessly roam over her appearance. Even hours later at this shitty bar and she still looks breathtaking. Harry’s gaze lingers a little too long on her chest, admiring the way the top fit her breasts; was she wearing a bra? Oh how he wishes he could find out.

Y/N adjusts her position in her chair, letting her left arm fall into her lap while she lays her right arm beside Harry’s. She is liking this game they seem to be playing with their eyes. She sits up straight, knowingly sticking out her chest just a bit as she watches Harry’s eyes fall to her breasts. But she keeps it classy, of course, unlike some people. Y/N lets out a breathy sigh as she looks at Harry’s hand mere inches away from her right hand. Those rings, she thinks, they could do some real damage. Her thighs clench involuntarily, her mind falling into a fog as she imagines them leaving red marks on her bare bottom or how cool they would feel against her throat.

“I really like your rings, have I told you that before?” Y/N’s voice is hoarse, but she doesn’t care as her pinky reaches over to touch the large gold ‘S’ that rests on his pinky. The metal is cool to her touch, just as she imagines. Feeling brave - thanks to her good friend, tequila - she lifts her hand slightly in order to comfortably drag her fingertip over the ‘S’ shape a couple times.

“No, you-” Harry clears his throat, feeling it become dry at the sight of her doe eyes staring at his fingers. His mind goes somewhere dirty, thinking of somewhere else his fingers could go. Tangled in her hair, wrapped around her throat, inside of her. Harry licks his lips before he speaks again, “you haven’t, but thank you.”

“Which is your favourite?” Y/N questions, her finger still lazily tracing the ring on his pinky finger.

“Quite like the inicals,” Harry answers, smirking as she glances up to peer at him through her lashes. She mirrors his smug look easily.

“A very narcissistic answer,” Y/N hums, teasing him. Harry playfully narrows his eyes at her, which she returns but ends up giggling after a moment as he sticks out his tongue at her. These inappropriate thoughts have got to just slide away for a moment, Y/N thinks with a deep breath.

“We’re going to head out,” Tom announces to the table suddenly, helping Jenny out of her chair. Jenny’s beautiful dazzling smile is on her husband as he helps her into her coat. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink too and Harry notes how Jenny latches onto Tom’s side after they’re in their coats.

“I’m still shocked you two both came out tonight,” Harry says.

“We paid big bucks for this babysitter, so they better keep it together for at least another four hours,” Tom exclaims with a wink. Jenny gasps and smacks her husband on the chest as she realizes what Tom is insinuating.

“Don’t go acting like you last longer than ten minutes, bud,” Mitch taunts jokingly to his friend. Everyone laughs as Tom glares at Mitch across the table. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, finally bringing her finger away from where it laid on Harry’s ‘S’ ring, in order to cover her chuckles.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Y/N,” Jenny gushes, letting go of Tom in order to put her arms around Y/N and hugging her tightly.

Y/N smiles into her bleached hair, squeezing her back just as tightly, “you too, Jenny,” she says.

“Don’t let H keep hiding you away now,” she says, pointing a stern finger at the two of them. Harry laughs and shakes his head at his friend.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny,” he tells her.

Then they’re all saying goodbye to the couple as they walk out of the half empty bar. Y/N glances around the place, noticing how it feels less scary now. Maybe it was the tequila that helped, or how comfortable she felt around Harry and his friends. A yawn suddenly makes it’s way past Y/N’s lips, she brings the back of her hand to cover it but ends up squinting her eyes closed as her whole body feels drained. She meets Harry eyes after the yawning stops, he shows her a small soft smile that makes her return it right back.

“Ready to go home?” He asks. She contemplates it for a moment, because she truthfully doesn’t want the night to end. But she decides to not fight it and nods to Harry.

Harry does practically the same thing as Tom just had. He announces his and Y/N’s departure, helps her into her coat, and lets her say her goodbyes as Adam opens his arms up for a big warm hug. Mitch only nods, waving to them both before Harry leads the way out of the bar. The cold night air blasts Y/N’s hair back, the sharp wind taking her by surprise as she blinks back tears from the cold. She puts both her hands into her coat pockets and zips it up all the way, snuggling into the warmth it will provide her on their walk home.

“I feel like Mitch doesn’t like me much,” Y/N admits after a few minutes of comfortable silence between her and Harry.

“What?” Harry shakes his head, eyebrows pinched together. “No, that’s just how he is. He’s quiet and looks all moody. Give him some time, he’ll warm up, promise.”

“I think he’s just protective of you,” Y/N says, looking up at Harry after they cross the road, “thinks I’m a threat or something.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head again,“well, it’s definitely not like that with Mitch and I, plus he’s seeing someone. Her name’s Sarah, she plays drums on a lot of tracks we write.”

“If you say so,” Y/N sighs. She looks around at the sights before them. A few other mildly drunk people wander the streets, and she notices a few homeless people too, that tore Y/N’s heart apart, as they were bunkering down in the alleyways. Harry keeps pace with Y/N the whole walk home, letting her control the speed they walked and what they talked about. She would jump from subject to subject the entire time, but Harry thought it was kinda cute that she was so drunk she didn’t even realize how quickly she changed the topic.

And all too soon, they’re in the elevator in their apartment building. Harry presses the number six button and joins Y/N on the back wall. They both lean into the railing, comfortable silence falling between them once again. But it was obviously their thoughts were anything but silent. The elevator doors open on their floor, and Harry lets her walk out first as always.

“Well this is me,” Y/N says dramatically as she approaches her apartment door. Harry chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly and letting his eyes fall to the floor for a second before meeting Y/N’s stare again. “I really did have a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells him.

“I’m glad, I did too,” he agrees.

Y/N wants to kiss him. She really really really does. But they’re both a little drunk, and she literally just broke up with Mark yesterday - or maybe technically two days ago now since it’s past midnight. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be that girl. Plus she wanted to really get to know Harry and take this slow and see where it went. That didn’t stop her gaze from falling to his pretty pink lips though. Harry’s thoughts are running laps too. He wants to kiss her. But he knows she’s more than likely still hasn’t recovered fully emotionally from her break up Mark, hell not even ten hours ago she was crying because of her shitty ex boyfriend. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her though, especially when her gaze falls to his lips.

Just as quickly as they seemed to fall into some dream like state as thoughts of kissing each other float around them, they snap back to reality. Y/N blinks a few times and takes a step back, bumping into her front door. Harry clears his throat and steps back as well, towards his own front door.

“Polar Express,” Y/N says suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “We’re watching the Polar Express tomorrow, and you’re going to play me something on that guitar of yours.”

Harry lets out a chuckle and gives Y/N a smirk, “yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“You will,” she singsongs as she focuses on unlocking her door. It takes a few extra tries to get the key in but once she does she unlocks it and opens the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry smiles.

“Goodnight, H,” Y/N says softly, smiling as well, as she leans against her door to look back at him. Harry’s smile deepens at her using his nickname. She must’ve picked it up from his friends using it earlier during their time at the bar.

She gives him one last look over, knowing very well that she’s going to dream about him in that cream and blue plaid jacket - and maybe only wearing that jacket - before she shuts her door and presses her back against it as it closes. Today was a lot. But she’s beyond grateful that Harry invited her out, introducing her to his wildly unique group of wonderful friends, and letting her get a little bit drunk too. Her chest flares up as she remembers their close moment at the bar, her touching his rings, placing her hand on his thigh-

“Oh god,” Y/N all but moans out as her thoughts go right back to the place they were at before.

She shakes her head and heads to her bedroom. Harry wouldn’t be able to hear a vibration from the other side of the wall, would he? Y/N shrugs and opens her bedside table drawer to grab her vibrator, knowing just how much she needed it tonight as she imagined Harry’s hand between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so screwed, she thinks, biting her lip as she realizes, she really really really likes Harry.

>> part four <<

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

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

[vivilove-jonsa]

Road Trip Romance (Part II)

Part one here

For the day 8 prompt 'sharing a bed' for 31 Days of Jonsa hosted by @fyeahjonandsansa

Read on ao3 or below the cut...

“This is really…Sansa, I can’t even begin to thank you for-”

“Only seems fitting. You helped us.”

“With a flat. This is a lot more.”

You held the door for me, too. Ooh, she’s in trouble.

Then, he smiles at her. It’s such an adorable grin with his eyes crinkled up at the corners behind his glasses. She could lose herself in that grin.

“Where’s your other friend?” she forces herself to ask, needing the reminder that her Road Trip Crush probably has a girlfriend and she’s being ridiculous crushing like this.

“Val? She was just hitching a ride with us to her sister’s. They live near Sea Dragon Point so it was mostly on the way. We dropped her off a couple of hours ago.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you.”

So, you weren’t taking your girlfriend on a term break ski trip with your friends! You were just giving a friend a lift.

That doesn’t mean she’s not his girlfriend, Sansa. Couples don’t have to spend every second of their free time together to be a couple.

Well…shit.

What is she doing? What was she thinking?

They need a place to stay!

Jon had tried calling other places while Sansa was sorting the cabin details with the clerk but struck out with all but one. The place nearer the highway though which had plenty of vacancies had been shot down by Jon’s friend Pyp, the one with large ears, at once.

“That place is a roach motel. We’d never see the slopes and we’d probably go home with some fungus. I’d rather sleep on the floor here than that.”

After Sansa confirms that her reservation hasn’t been ‘lost in the shuffle’ and they share her spur-of-the-moment offer with the others, Margaery’s eyes dart between Jon and her. Then, Mya’s do the same. Two smirks appear and Sansa knows her altruistic gesture is under suspicion. Soon, all four of her friends seem to be on to her as if the idea has transferred ‘round the group via osmosis or something.

But the amazing part, the part that reminds her why she loves her friends so much, is how readily they adapt to the idea of letting three strangers stay with them for the next three days. The more the merrier might even be their motto.

I mean, we were willing to tolerate Joffrey for Myrcella’s sake.

“Booze run!” Wylla announces as they’re heading towards the parking lot.

“But we’ve not even seen the cabin yet.”

“So? It’s too late for skiing today.” This is true. It’s already edging towards six and getting dark out.

“We’ll need food, too,” Mya chimes in. She gives Grenn an appraising look and amends that. “We’re going to need lots of food, I think.”

“If you’re going into town, can Grenn and I hitch a ride to the camping supply store with you?” Pyp asks. “We could get a couple of air mattresses and some sleeping bags. You want us to get you anything, Snowman?”

Sansa watches Jon’s ears turn a little pinkish, possibly over the nickname, when he says, “Uh, sure. Grab me a sleeping bag, Pyp, and I’ll pay you back. Thanks.”

With that, Mya, Wylla and Marg are leading the guys to the minivan, saying they’ll have to ante up on the booze and food since they’re getting free board.

“You coming into town with us, Baratheon?” Mya asks Joffrey once Sansa, Jon and Myrcella have been grabbing luggage out of the van to haul towards their cabin. “You can try and track down your friends while we’re there.”

Joffrey’s been unusually quiet in the midst of their changes in the plan, following the group a few paces behind and this is the first time Sansa’s bothered to look at him since they arrived. She doesn’t like the look on his face now.

“No, I think I’ll stay right here,” Joffrey says, pulling his baggage out of the van. “Mother wouldn’t want me to leave my sister alone with some guy who might be a serial killer for all we know.”

Myrcella rolls her eyes and tells Joffrey not to be a prat. Jon looks caught between an uncomfortable chuckle and a scowl over being the butt of Joffrey’s very lame joke. Sansa expels a slow breath to combat her rising panic over whatever nonsense Joffrey might start if he wants to get pissy and leads them towards the cabin.

**

The cabin is nice but, what would be a little cramped for five girls, is going to be very tight quarters indeed for eight…or nine.

“Joffrey,” Myrcella says sweetly, “Why don’t you call your friend again and see if-”

“He’s not here. None of them are, Cella,” Sansa hears Joffrey huff. “Our wires must’ve gotten crossed, they said. They went to the Bay of Pentos for term break.”

“The Bay of Pentos? But that’s nothing like the Bay of Seals. It’s across the Narrow Sea and you told them you’d get a ride with us when obviously you couldn’t have driven there or-”

Myrcella grows quiet then, likely drawing the same conclusion that Sansa has. Joffrey’s so-called friends not only dumped him from their term break plans, they sent him off on a wild goose chase.

“They’re a bunch of losers anyway. I don’t care,” Joffrey says in a hurt tone that makes it plain he does care.

No! Now, I feel sorry for that ass!

“It’s alright, Joffrey. You can just stay here with us.”

Nooooooo!

Still, Sansa can’t blame Myrcella. He’s her brother. If Sansa can offer three strangers a place to stay, Myrcella can certainly do the same for her own flesh and blood. What wouldn’t Sansa do to help one of her siblings, especially after a blow like that, if she was in a position to help?

Yeah, but my siblings aren’t Joffrey!

To give the brother and sister an allusion of some privacy as they speak, Sansa leads Jon into the bedroom she’s claiming as hers…or was. She’s only one person. Is it right to have this whole room for herself when four guys will be sleeping on the floor of the little common room? One might get the sofa, she supposes…not that it looks all the comfortable for sleeping.

“You can keep your things in here if you want. There’s a closet and dresser. I won’t need all of it for my stuff.”

“Thanks, Sansa.”

They bustle around the little bedroom together, bumping shoulders or elbows a time or two as they put away their things. Does she get way too much of a thrill out of that? Yes. Definitely.

While doing so, they share a little bit about themselves. Jon loves skiing. Sansa’s gone a few times but isn’t the greatest. Both have been to the town before but never at this resort.

“I mostly pictured sitting in front of a fire with my friends and hot cocoa while wearing my cutest sweaters.”

“I’m sure you’d look adorable doing that.”

Was that flirty? Or just him being sweet?

Jon says he and his friends had gone to Castle Black for undergrad but he’s at Rosby now as a grad student. (Which isn’t all that far from KLU!)

He’d picked up Pyp and Grenn in Cerwyn for this skiing trek. Where Val falls into all of this, he doesn’t say and Sansa doesn’t work up the nerve to ask. Is she his girlfriend? Are they just friends? Why was she smirking when she interrupted them at the pancake place this morning? And the way she’d put her hand on his forearm and asked if he’d share pancakes with her…

The voices outside the bedroom have risen a little. Joffrey is back to being his usual prickish self again. He’s back to making surmises about Jon and his friends, too, and not really bothering to lower his voice.

“For all you know, Cella, they never had a reservation to begin with. They were probably just hanging around in that lobby waiting for someone gullible like Sansa… (Ouch. And excuse you? My last gullible move was thinking you were worth the time of day.) “…to come along and fall for their sob story so they can join in your little pajama party while you girls all get drunk tonight. If I’m not here to keep an eye on things, I’ll bet they’ll be-”

“Joffrey, if you don’t knock it off, you can camp out on the balcony for all I care.”

“You can’t do that! I’ll call Mother and-”

“Gods, shut up. I’m taking a nice, long nap!”

A slamming door has Sansa covering her snickers. Sofa City for you, pal.

She realizes she’s been caught eavesdropping when Jon sits down on the bed and sighs. On top of being suspected of nefarious motives and schemes, it’s been a long day for him after driving all of last night. Sansa wants a shower and then maybe a nap more than anything right now. She wonders if Jon feels the same.

“I know we’ve only met today but I can assure you I’m not a serial killer, Sansa.”

She snorts. “I don’t think a serial killer would be helpful in the way you’ve been.”

“Thanks. I try.” He takes off his glasses and scrubs at his face while stifling a yawn. “So, forgive me for asking but is Joffrey…”

He lets the question trail off there. “He’s Myrcella’s brother.”

“Yeah, I caught that.” Duh, of course he did, Sansa. “I was just asking if you’re…”

He trails off again so Sansa’s back to filling in the sentence. “Myrcella’s my roommate on campus.”

“Right but, uh…Joffrey isn’t…or is he your, um…”

Sansa’s eyes widen and she promptly covers her face. “Ew! Gods, no.”

Jon starts chuckling, a very relieved sounding chuckle. “Sorry. Just trying to figure out the dynamics here. He kept staring at you earlier.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, when you were explaining to your friends what you’d done for us, he would look at you and then give us a nasty look and then back again. It seemed like jealousy or something to me.”

“I can’t imagine him being jealous of me. Okay, admittedly, we did go out on a few dates last year before I got to know what a jerk he is but, this trip aside, we quietly loathe each other from a distance in general now.”

“I see.”

(Damn, his voice dropped very nicely there. All husky, Northern appeal. Gods, she’s tired and not thinking straight.)

“I don’t think they’ll be back from town for a while so I’m going to grab a shower. If you want to crash here for a bit, be my guest.”

“I couldn’t sleep in your bed when-”

“It’s a bed. Not technically even mine yet. It’s up to you but rest if you like. Bound to be more comfortable than a sleeping bag later.”

He nods in acknowledgement of that truth. “Alright. Thanks. You enjoy your shower. I may have to do that next.”

**

She’d needed a shower; a hot one to wash away the road trip grime and a cold one to calm down.

It is not Jon’s fault that he looks that good in a turtleneck. It is not Jon’s fault that he looks that good in a turtleneck. It is not Jon’s fault that…

When she exits the bathroom in the fresh t-shirt and sweats she’d brought with her to change (saving my cute sweaters for later), she sees Joffrey sullenly channel surfing in the common room. Myrcella’s door is still closed she she’s probably still sleeping…or just avoiding spending time with Joffrey.

“Anything good on?” Sansa asks, just to be polite because it feels awkward to pass through a room where they’re the only two people and not say something.

He looks back over his shoulder at her and scowls. She should’ve just passed through the room without saying anything.  “There’s only four channels. It’s like the fucking stone ages when your people still worshiped trees or something here.”

Not the first dig she’s heard over her Northern heritage since going South and Joffrey can’t faze her tonight. Her friends didn’t dump her. “Well, most people come here for things besides television, I guess.”

“Yeah, like picking up strangers on the side of the road to fuck.”

“Excuse you?”

“Excuse me what, Sansa? I saw you looking at him during breakfast and then you were awfully quick to offer up our cabin for them.”

“Since when is it ‘our’ cabin?”

“I saw the way he was looking at you, too.” Jon was looking at her? What way? And when? “He’s in your bed right now, isn’t he?”

“To sleep. He drove all night and day, Joffrey. He’s tired.”

“Yeah, right. Wish you’d been this easy when we were dating.”

“You’re pathetic, Joffrey. A sad, pathetic, little prick. I suggest you sit there quietly and enjoy your television or maybe you’ll be looking for another place to lay your head tonight.”

He huffs and turns back around and she stomps into her bedroom where Jon is asleep on top of the bed.

“Sansa?” he murmurs sleepily when she walks in and closes the door. It’s kind of, really adorable.

“Yeah, it’s me. Want me to turn the lamp off?”

“Nah, I…fuck, what time is it?” He gropes around him for his phone but it’s slipped off the bed onto the floor.

“Nearly seven. No booze or food has arrived yet. Stay in bed if you want.” She stifles a yawn of her own and puts her soiled clothes in the drawer she’s designated for those.

“You tired, too?” he asks, grinning up at here from where he lays. Him and those grins of his with his messy bed head are not going to help her think straight.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get up.”

“No, you don’t have to get up. You’re not even under the covers for that matter. Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah, I’m fine.” The next instant, his body decides to contradict him as he gives an involuntary shiver. She laughs quietly as he admits, “Maybe a little.”

“We could both lie here…if you’d want. Just until they get back with food and such.”

“Yeah, that’d…if you don’t mind me staying here with you, I’d like that.”

“It’s just a bed. Big enough for two or even three. We’d just be resting. Help me pull back the covers. My hair’s still damp and I want to be warm.”

“Okay.”

Quietly, shyly, a little reticently, they pull back the covers, plump the pillows and exchange a few words about preferred sides.

When they climb in and get under the covers together, they lay unnaturally still for several minutes, counting the beats of their hearts or timing their breaths perhaps.

“Sansa…thanks again.”

“No problem,” she says, remembering when he’d said the same at the convenience store last night.

Who would’ve thought the handsome courteous stranger with his bag of M&Ms and coffee last night would be sharing a bed with her this evening? Life can be very funny sometimes.

She smiles up at the ceiling and can feel herself relaxing. The shower probably helped that. She hears his breathing grow a little steadier. It’s calming.

Why does the bed feel so full with him in it? In a good way.  Why does she want to cross the bit of empty sheets between them and absorb his warmth? Wrap herself around him and never let go?

(Is Val his girlfriend? Was he really looking at her in a particular way earlier like Joffrey suggested?)

She doesn’t know the answers to those questions but her worries are losing the battle against her exhaustion. She only knows that she’s oddly comfortable lying next to Jon, no matter how short a time they’ve known one another.

The muffled sound of the television from the next room seems soothing along with the smell of Jon on her sheets.

“Are you still cold?” she asks quietly, recalling his shiver and wanting to be warmer.

“A little. Scooch closer if you want.”

She does and they both sigh as their shoulders touch.

She already drifting when she hears him say (or thinks she does), “Your hair smells so good,” in that wonderfully deep, Northern voice of his.

Down, down, down in a sweet sleep free of true dreams, Sansa floats. Images, flashes, memories of his smile and then just peace and rest.

**

When the sound of the rest of their party returning wakes them, they both jolt upright. Dazed and disoriented, Sansa feels her cheeks getting hot. She just shared her bed with a guy she barely knows. That’s going to be obvious to more than just Joffrey very soon.

But her stomach rumbles, she’s hungry and they didn’t do anything. They’re adults regardless and there’s nothing for her to feel embarrassed about. So why does her heart flutter so?

“Sorry, I’ll, uh…” Jon rises from the bed without finishing his words.

It’s then, in its absence, that she realizes he’s been holding her hand all this while as they slept.