#the dog in my neighbor’s back yard keeps getting out and it’s tiny so it’s bark like shatters glass and it keeps going after dogs that are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finsterhund · 1 year

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Almost my birthday. And then almost the day I lost Cazza. Struggling unbelievably badly. I'm trying anything to hold it together. I have a healthy potato plant and I got a tiny little oak sapling and I have several little sprouts from apple seeds and I have my childhood willow tree cuttings starting to root. They are the only things keeping me alive at this point.

I keep thinking about how when my trees are bigger I can get nice big pots for them and I can top dress with those black and neon colored aquarium gravel I saw at the pet store. That's basically my only "able to think into the future" thing I've got.

I've been regressing. Really bad. In multiple different ways.

My body is also not doing too well. My jaw is so painfully tight and locking up from grinding/clenching/whatever and I have bites all over the inside of my mouth, immune system is practically useless and I'm both unable to sleep and unable to stop sleeping. No clue how to explain that but hopefully it comes across okay.

Somehow didn't shower for over a week. I finally did last night and I stayed in there for over five hours because I didn't want it to stop. My roommate forced me to have pizza. Not as in I didn't like pizza. I like pizza a lot. But as in I didn't feel able to eat it he had to manually steer my brain into getting pizza. I don't think I've had a proper meal other than the pizza in several days.

Otherwise I've been inside. Only inside. Except to walk Scott when nobody else is around. I'm trying to avoid interactions as much as possible because some of my more violent tendencies can get past my meds when I get this bad. I don't want to make somebody feel bad or upset or unsafe or some shit. It's harder to mask and hide how not okay I am and hide my developmental disorders and mental disabilities now. I realize I mask a whole fucking lot even though it's never enough.

Just been fucking crying and I suspect disassociating. The days are going by but I'm not conscious of things happening.

Sorry for no updates. Just want you to know I'm still here. In some capacity at least.

My first bean plant I think is dying. There's some sort of kink in the stem and even though I've given it a brace I don't know if it's going to pull through. At least in terms of growth beyond the spot. I'm really hoping it doesn't die around the same day Cazza did. I think I will actually fucking go postal.

I got a new to me daylight simulating reptile heat lamp for my plants and they seem to like it. More than the shitty pink grow light bulbs I had before from the dollar store. It's what my potato and apples exploded out under.

I want American chestnut saplings. I want my childhood cherry tree back. I managed to "unlock" an old memory of when people killed the tree I liked when I was very small. The one in the front yard with the scarf(?) tied to a lower branch. I have the image of the entire root they dug out being lifted out of the ground and the curling shape of that big ass taproot as they stole it from me.

I keep trying to Google to see if it's possible that if there's some level of roots of my cherry tree still left in the ground that they could potentially send up sprouts that I could maybe someday ask the new owner about. You know, like American chestnut stump sprouts? But all the internet has to say is how to kill those potential spouts. It's not helping me feel better that's for sure.

Fruit trees I know for a fact were killed from the front yard of the Spot house since I lived there too I remember also. I think there are still some there though.

My neighbor was bothered by me somehow a couple weeks ago but I have no clue what the fuck I did and they won't tell me. I try my fucking hardest to be palatable for people in real life and not be difficult or annoying and shit still fucking happens. I fucking ask and I'm not given an answer and it's just brushed off. It's probably my neurodivergentness being unsightly or some shit. They have irresponsibly soft views on dog husbandry and joke about me being no fun for not letting Scott run around off leash or not eating random shit off the ground on so maybe it's that??? But they did literally mention that they knew "something was wrong" with me when we first met. This isn't a new thing and I haven't seen them since I've gotten this bad right now but I still keep fucking thinking about it.

I don't belong anywhere. I don't have a home. I don't have a family. As real as things online are to me they aren't physically tangible and monkey brain want to feel and hold.

I'm aware right now at how I try to take up as little space as possible and it's still never enough. My roommate has stuff filling practically every area of our shared living space, stuff lining every wall, and he gets mad at me for having my computer chair in the living room or fixing something out on the floor. When he was having his mental health emergency I comforted him and let him lie on my bed and held him while he cried but as he got better the "getting short with me because I'm not immediately putting my tools and shit away" started up again. So now I'm keeping things I need to clean in a garbage bag in my room so it doesn't get grime on my stupid ass carpet I've been repeatedly vacuuming because if I put cups and pots and other shit I need to wash and soak on the kitchen counter by the sink he'll get after me and make me feel more upset.

There's a mold problem so I have to clean things more frequently. He says it might be in the plumbing. Knowing things I think this may be correct. I have no clue where the fuck that shit is coming from otherwise.

I like watching him play Zelda tears of the kingdom but I wish I could play. I've been unable to play games for idk how long. Same with reading, drawing, everything else. It looks like a good game at least. I like it. Reminds me of going over to my friend's house and play Ocarina of Time. Tulin feels a lot like Orion. Makes me wish I could actually accomplish something with my books. He's like if someone who wasn't a complete fuck up managed to make the character and put him in something that actually fucking got released.

I think once I've exhausted all the old vegetable seeds my neighbor gave me I'll stick to just my runner beans and trees from now on. A lot of them don't seem to be viable anymore so it's not gonna take too long but I feel bad. I hate having dirt I hate having dirt spill on the stupid fucking carpet. I want to just say fuck it and rip that shit out of my bedroom so fucking bad. I think at this point the only thing stopping me from doing that is how I'd have to take my furniture out to do it and my roommate getting mad at me. Theoretically due to how the landlords are a stupid corporation of brainless degenerate cunts if I kept the shit ass carpet all in one piece if I removed it when it was time to move out I could just nailgun the bitch back in and they'd be none the wiser. I'd probably do a better job than the stupid incompetent nepo baby they get to to maintenance in these cubicles regardless. Apparently they're under new management and fired that guy? Who fucking knows. I still don't trust whatever chud they send in to replace the shit plumbing job or rewire the faulty electrical. My roommate's light switch shocks him by the way. I'm sure that's totally normal. The hallway outlet started smoking years ago so we simply just don't use that. Probably just the wind.

I had to unclog the kitchen sink. It's gross. It's built in such a way that particles won't actually fully go down. As in they used the wrong shape pipe pieces. Simply stellar. I can't be assed to replace it yet though. The bathroom sink is slow draining too and roommate keeps reminding me to fix that as well but I don't fucking want to right now. Maybe I should because fixing things helps me feel better but I hate the yucky gross gross. I wish I could actually wear gloves but it is so damn hard to use my hands with gloves. My stupid fucking mental brain stupid and my stupid fucking impaired fine motor skills. Hands are basically just imprecise lumps of meat that twitch and shudder.

Somehow it's 4AM. Wow. Idk. How did this happen again.

I wish my seedlings would stop dampening off or whatever the fuck. It's probably the goddamn mold or some shit. I wish I understood how plants get nutrients with hydroponics because I'd do that but I'd be so fucking upset if they died.

Wish I had a parent who cared about me the way I care about my plants lol. Wish I had some level of security.

Also you know. Wish Cazza was back. It's gotten to the point where she feels like a theoretical supernatural entity now rather than my flesh and blood real life best friend who I used to be able to hold and touch and pet and smell and feel and hear and talk to and have close by always there for me.

Value village has been inexplicably closed for no reason for a month now and that was the one thing I could go and do and see new things. If it shuts down for good that will just be one more nail in the coffin.

Roommate says we can go to Home Depot for my birthday to get stuff for my plants but I'm scared I'm not going to want to or that I'm going to regret spending money. (Also very real possibility that he's going to get mad at me for spending money)

Maybe I should just buy an established tree. One that can with proper care thrive in a pot under grow lights. I wanted there to be a bond. Some sort of cosmic significance. Like the tree being related to one from my childhood or hand grown from seed by myself but I think I'd benefit from having someone that's already established enough that I don't have to worry too badly about pests and seedling conditions and shit. Something that doesn't feel too delicate for my stupid hands. I have to think how the hell I managed as a toddler but my tremors were probably much better. I don't remember having them until 12+ so it's probably the case. Maybe I'm also just not remembering my failures too. I don't know. I wish I wouldn't have planted my apple tree because mom would have kept it in its pot and someday I might have taken it back from her. But I have new baby apples and hopefully at least one will make it.

The Anakin quote about sand is so bitterly relatable to me now about just regular ass dirt. God fucking hate dirt. I need an adult who's respectable and wise and trustworthy to teach me about successfully growing healthy plants in soil-leas mediums. If there's horticulture or whatever the fuck school would I even be able to afford such a thing? Would it be accessible to my mental and physical shit?

Some pride though is that my mom told me I wouldn't be able to germinate store bought poppy seeds and I did. I fucking did. Take that. No clue if they'll grow past seedling stage with whatever the fuck is going on but I still fucking did it. No luck with pomegranates and mango seeds seem to be moldy before you even fucking eat the fruit but I specifically germinated the seeds I was told I couldn't.

Also fuck whoever told me that cuttings you're trying to root need darkness. You shitheels on the internet I swear to christ because I saw a guy on YouTube do an experiment and guess what!? Cuttings sprouted much better in a clear uncovered glass jar. Also despite algae they did better without water changing too.

I'm currently using hydrogen peroxide to fight the mold problems. It seems to be going away but I had to repot my green onions and cut them back significantly to hopefully save them.

One day I hope I have a house and some land. I want a solarium. I want a big glass room with lots of sunlight that's far away from other buildings or people or smoke or dust or other crap. There's a small orchard outside of the solarium that's surrounded by a windbreak of evergreens. So that it's only visible from the inside. When there's storms I can watch rain hit the glass and make a big waterfall across the roof and down the walls. You know, like the things in dairy queen dining rooms.

That's what's keeping me going. Eventually all the old super rich people will die and then disabled people (hell even a perfectly employable healthy guy in my generation at this point) will finally be able to own a house again.

Still hoping it'll be my grandparents farm though. I won't give up on that house even though everybody else has.

Nothing more to say that isn't repeating things or depraved rambling off into nothing so idk update over I guess.

#text post #negative #long post

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motherofkrypton · 2 years

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Hurricane with three little people

The hurricane struck not long-ago leaving devastation and destruction in its wake. Many places were completely destroyed, and some were barely touched...it's emotional walking further back in my area. While many mobile homes still stand, many more were annihilated, I saw one where the only thing left was the rear bedroom and a few appliances. The storm was worse than what I believed it was going to be and we were out of power for a while. There are still a lot of areas that have yet to get power today.

The upcoming days to the hurricane, I was checking up on it and trying to get anything that could take flight put away. I made as many eggs as my kids wanted because I knew that once the power went...everything would start going bad. I didn't think to get more candles and we couldn't really afford to get prepared. The day before the hurricane fiancé still went to work all the way in Naples because sadly not working isn't an option for our family. While he was gone, I let the kids have full control over anything that they wanted to do while they still could. My oldest played a few of his video games, while the other two battled over whose movie was going to go in the dvd player.

When the storm finally came it seemed like it lasted forever. The safest room in my house is the little, tiny hall between the bedrooms and the bathroom, so I made a pallet of blankets with a few toys and of course snacks. Expecting my foodie to not want something to snack on would be ridiculous...he loves food. We kept playing movies for them in the living room for as long as the power was on. Having them tell us what to play in order to keep them away from the window. They sat on the bed and had a nice meal, while dad and I kept watch on the sky through the door. Trees danced in the wind some falling as the wind picked up. Branches began to fly through the air, my neighbors trashcans...blew down the road like a boat through a puddle, and trash blew through yards.

The storms power increased more and more as the time wore on. I kept contact with my friend who lives in a camper for as long as we could. He texted me that he was going to open a bottle and try to relax himself through the store. Then he sadly called and told me that he wished that he had taken me up on my offer but he couldn't just leave his dog to be scared alone (his dog is an older big dog and sometimes he nips and he didn't want to risk him biting one of my kids from being scared)...he told me that he was drunk and scared. I told him to just keep contact with me until our phones were both dying. Once the power went I knew it was time to get the kids into the hall because there are windows everywhere. It took me a bit to be able to get them to go in there, my daughter wanted to watch outside like us adults were. We tried closing the door for a bit but it quickly became hot making us need to reopen the door. The wind howled so loudly it sounded like a hundred jet engines flying by.

Somewhere my watch kept announcing the time loudly...it was quieter in my home with no electricity. I began to worry about losing all of our food...especially with everything my daughter eats has to be refrigerated and not knowing how we would be able to get by or if we would be able to get her to eat. When the watch announced it was bedtime, the wind seemed to have died down a bit, we all laid together on the futon. Once my little people and my husband fell asleep, I got up and as I did I looked back at them sleeping peacefully whispering "it is my turn to keep watch" as I pulled a chair to the door and opened it. My Superman usually runs warm, as does my daughter and my husband and they had all begun to sweat. It was bad enough for the kids that they couldn't watch anything to keep calm...I wasn't going to let them suffer from it being hot in the house.

I made a small lamp using some glow sticks and a glass jar to provide a little light so if they woke it would be a little less scary for them. I watched as the storm took shingles off of houses...tore apart porches leaving nothing but a gnarled frame on the ground...a little tree across the street kept hugging the truck next to it...my daughters princess wagon flipped against the tree...Michael Angelo (TMNT) took flight smacking into the trunk of my car and lost both of his arms (thankfully my car is a 1983 Crown Vic and it just got a power wash from the storm)...the wind picked up again as I hear a loud crash from the porch waking my husband. Thankfully the children remained asleep. A loud crashing and screeching began from behind the house as we both scattered trying to figure out what it was praying that it wasn't our porch about to go (we live in a two bedroom so majority of our belongings are out there in order to ensure the littles have their own rooms and it isn't too cluttered inside). I peeked out my daughters window as saw the devastation happening in the backyard. I looked over at my neighbors porch as yelled "Oh my GOD get in here the neighbors porch is going! Should we wake them and get them back to the hall...?" We watched them sleeping peacefully for a moment, my older two snuggled against each other while the youngest cuddled a pillow.....they were so at peace we waited.

Once the storm was over, we slept for a bit before the chaos would begin. With no power and destruction all over...nobody was going to be in a good mood and everyone would be struggling to get anything. From being homeless our first thought was 'how do we get a fire going to get food in their bellies?' My husband went to the back and grabbed a metal tube that had been sitting there for a long time. We began finding things that would burn and made all of the eggs that was in the refrigerator (it was a sand bucket full...I always get the big box). The kids woke one by one and the first thing that my youngest did was wake up and tried to put on his movie as he does every morning. He cried not understanding why it wouldn't let him...so we did what we could made a sand box, filled a tiny pool, and put a little play house in the front yard. It made them happy. We walked to different places and saw all that had happened. It was heart breaking seeing how bad it was in some areas.

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everytimeiseeadragonirealize · 3 years

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#day to day life #tma #the magnus archives #that one was a pretty twisty turny one #maybe they could instead of letting the fears go into the other worlds they could go and like lock it up #sure everybody else would be stuck in that hell for like eternity (or until the end gets ´em) but it’ll be fiiiine #the dog in my neighbor’s back yard keeps getting out and it’s tiny so it’s bark like shatters glass and it keeps going after dogs that are #like 10 times it’s size and that dog(the big boy doggy) is a good boy and has rentrant bc he could actually like really hurt that dog but #he’s a good boy and would never #me and my family don’t know the dogies’ names so we call the big one big boy and the little one ‘the neighbor’s dog’ and we name a lot of #the street cats that our neighbors feed #if you read all of that... i’m sorry? have a cookie 🍪 ? have a nice day/evening/night/in space so there is no day or night so just time but #there wouldn’t be time so idk #later skaters 🛹

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends, but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

i wish you would write them househunting 😏 🍅 🐕

"Don't see why we gotta move anyway, man," Mickey complains again as they hop off the L near their destination. He shoulders past a woman staring at her phone who doesn't move fast enough, flipping her off when she shouts after him. It's hard enough keeping up with Ian's long damn legs without people getting in his way.

"You're the one that doesn't like our place, Mick," Ian reminds him, and Mickey scowls. There's no way Ian can see it, still being a step ahead, but somehow he knows.

"And don't scowl about it, you big baby, you know it's true," Ian adds. They're separated again before Mickey can respond, a gaggle of teenagers wandering obliviously between them.

When the space clears again, Ian is there waiting for him, hand outstretched with an expectant look in his eyes. Mickey sighs.

"I'm not a fuckin' toddler, man," he grumbles, but he takes his husband's hand all the same. "And I like our place just fine."

Ian snorts as he starts walking again, pulling Mickey along at a pace more friendly to his shorter stride.

"Sure," he agrees, "You love it. And I definitely didn't catch you throwing pebbles off the balcony at our neighbors the other day."

"Ey, that was one time!" Mickey protests. "And that douche moved out, so we're cool now."

"Uh huh," Ian says knowingly. "Totally cool, Mick. But hey, I think you'll like this place a little more."

"Why's that?" Mickey asks suspiciously. He looks around, notes some familiar houses. He hadn't been paying attention to where they were going, too preoccupied with trying to convince Ian that they didn't need to move; really, he was just getting used to the Westside, he didn't want to end up somewhere he didn't know the streets again already.

But it didn't look like that was going to be much of a problem.

"Whoa, wait," he voices, coming to a halt. Ian stops just ahead of him, still connected by their clasped hands, and watches him realize what's happening.

"You're bringin' us back Southside?" Mickey asks. He knows he sounds a bit awed, but he can't help it. "Thought you wanted out, man. Wasn't that the whole point?"

But when he looks at Ian, all he sees is his smile.

"The point was us being happy, dipshit," Ian says, and okay. Mickey can give him that one.

The first place they see isn't quite what either of them expected. It's a new development on an old plot, and apparently the pictures Ian had seen online weren't quite so...trendy?...as it came off in person.

"The yard is nice," Ian offers as they stand in the middle of the wide open space that serves as kitchen, living room, office, and guest space. Strangers milled around them, other couples and even a few students that showed up for the free food advertised in the open house flyers, all raving about the 'open concept' style.

"You mean that tiny patch of astroturf out there?" Mickey replies to Ian's attempt at optimism. He laughs. "Yeah, good luck transplanting your fucking tomatoes in that, moron."

"Wait, that's not grass?" Ian asks, peering harder out the floor-to-ceiling windows that were letting in way too much heat.

"You ever seen grass that green around here?" Mickey asks back, and Ian grimaces.

"Come on, man," Mickey prompts him, walking back toward the front door. He grabs a doughnut from the kitchen counter on the way, taking a bite and calling back to Ian with his mouth full.

"Not enough walls in here anyway, nothin' for you to hold me against while we fuck."

He ignores the shocked gasp of the realtor and a few muffled snickers from the younger members of the crowd, but Ian turns bright red and rushes over to usher him out.

The second place they see has the opposite problem. It's in decent shape for as old as it is, probably one of the last original houses in the area, but it's...a lot.

"How many fucking rooms are there in this place?" Mickey wonders as they wander through. They're the only ones there this time, having let themselves in with the key from the lock box on the front door, and Mickey can see why. The house is like a labyrinth, doors everywhere, and none of it makes any fucking sense.

"Thought you wanted lots of rooms to fuck in, remember?" Ian says from behind him. A second later, Mickey finds himself shoved up against the wall of the tiny third bedroom, Ian's hands on his sides and mouth nipping just behind his ear.

He groans and tries to push back into it, but then Ian is cursing and pulling back. Mickey turns to see him rubbing his elbow where he obviously hit it on the edge of the door, which sticks way too far into the room.

"Lots of room, yeah," Mickey snickers as Ian glares at him for the lack of sympathy. "This place just feels like lots of closets, and I've had enough of those."

The third place is better. It's something in between, a spruced up two-story with decent yard space and, if not grass, at least some real dirt to work with.

"Hey Mickey, come up here!" Ian calls from the second floor, and Mickey stops poking through the kitchen cabinets to search him out.

He finds him in what must be the master bedroom, laying on a huge pillowtop bed.

"Hey, check this out," Ian says when he sees him enter, and Mickey rolls his eyes.

"The bed doesn't come with the place, Ian," he points out. "Or did you forget what we learned last time?"

Ian laughs. "Nah, not the bed Mick. Just come here."

Mickey gives in to his beckoning and sits next to him on the high mattress, and Ian abruptly pulled him down to lay beside him.

"Up there," Ian says softly, pointing to the ceiling with one pale hand.

Mickey looks. Then he looks harder, because painted on the ceiling above the bed is a mural of silver stars against the dark blue of a night sky, weaving between faint white clouds and a bright crescent moon.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Ian remarks, rolling over to watch Mickey's reaction. He strokes Mickey's arm where it lies on the silky duvet.

"Yeah," Mickey manages. "Real pretty. A little gay though."

Ian laughs. "Think we're that gay yet?" he questions. It sounds like a joke, but Mickey is pretty sure there's nothing joking about it.

That assumption is confirmed when Ian continues.

"I like this place, Mickey," he whispers. "It's got good bones, a nice yard for Basil--"

"We can't pick a fucking house for the dog, Ian," Mickey interjects, but Ian ignores him.

"And I think it would be a big step, for us." He sounds so earnest, and something in Mickey's heart twinges.

"Yeah? You sign the lease already?" Mickey asks, just to be a little shit.

"Fuck off," Ian answers immediately, but without heat.

"I'm serious, Mickey," he says after a moment. "I think we'd be good here." He reaches over to place a hand on Mickey's face, turning it toward himself. "But I want you to agree with me this time. No more doing things on my own. If we're gonna do this, we decide together."

Mickey isn't sure what's brighter--the stars on the ceiling or the love in Ian's eyes.

"Yeah, okay, you soft fucker," he murmurs, relishing the grin that lifts Ian's lips and stretches across his whole face. "Let's do this."

"Yeah?" Ian breathes, leaning in closer.

"Yeah," Mickey confirms. Ian goes in for a kiss, and Mickey let him get in a soft peck before pulling back and swinging his legs off the bed.

"But you get to mow our new yard and pick up all the dog shit, Gallagher, nobody's gonna do it for ya here!"

Mickey grins as he takes off to finish exploring the rest of the house, Ian shouting "Hey, not fair!" from behind him.

#fic request #daily speedwrite #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #fluff #thank you for prompting me!#this got away from me as usual

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hullomoon · 3 years

Text

hullomoon’s 2021 works (part one)

it’s the end of the year, which means it’s time for a work round-up! this year i really started getting into podficcing so this year there’s a fun mix of fic and podfic. if you haven’t yet, check out my 2019 roundup and 2020 roundup. all fics are ordered in chronological posting order.

through thick and thin | ~1.7k | Patrick & Alexis

A glimpse at Patrick and Alexis's friendship through the years

a recipe for disaster and love | ~1.7k | Patrick/David

David loves the Annual Bake Sale, unfortunately, this year the cookie he just ate was the worse thing ever, and now he has to talk to the baker and tell him so.

gonna kiss me real hard, make me want it | explicit | ~1.3k | Stevie/Ruth

Ruth and Stevie enjoy themselves after a long day

ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes | 1.5k | Jocelyn & Mutt

After the baby sprinkle, Jocelyn thinks back to when Mutt was growing up

let the rain fall, i don’t care | 167 | Patrick/David

A few quiet moments between David and Patrick

i’d take my puppy everywhere | ~1.8k | Patrick/David

David's new neighbor has a dog, which would be fine except it keeps ending up in his yard

[podfic] A House Becomes a Home | 0:37:31 | Patrick/David

A series of six events wherein David and Patrick's cottage becomes a home.

podfic of A House Becomes a Home

i’m so grateful and proud | ~1.8k | Clint & Patrick; Marcy & David

During a visit home, Patrick realizes he might be a tad jealous of the time David spends with Marcy

a sense of expectation hanging in the air | mature | ~6.5k | Stevie/Ruth

Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

money, money, money (it’s a rich man’s world) | ~2.5k | Stevie & Johnny; David & Johnny

When Stevie mentions hiring someone for the financials during a meeting, Johnny worries it'll be another Eli situation

#hullomoon writes #hullomoon podfics #stevie budd/ruth clancy #david rose x patrick brewer #schitts creek

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gayaristocrat · 3 years

Text

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

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alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 4 years

Text

Neighbor little helper

Summary: single dad Chris gets a new neighbor he finds extremely beautiful. When his 5 year old figures out his daddy loves the neighbor, he tries to set you both up.

Warning: Fluff

Title: neighbor little helper

Word count: 2.4k

Pairing: single dad! Chris, Chris Evans x reader

Masterlist | request closed momentarily

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comments and reblogs welcome!

The moving van outside of Chris's home office caught his attention. No one has lived in the house next to him for a year and a half now and it surprised him that someone was moving in. Chris got up and walked to the window, he peered out and saw you getting out of the car.

God you were beautiful. Your smile made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked amazing in your red graphic tee and denim Shorts. You were definitely prepared for the summer heat.

You looked so happy as the movers pulled out your boxes. Chris was Going to keep watching, but he felt like that would be weird, so he stopped. He walked out of his office and into the living room where Nolan was.

"Daddy, someone is moving in next to us." He said, getting up off of the couch and tottered over to Chris.

"I know, should we go say hi Nolan?" Nolan nodded, his Blue eyes just like his dad's, lighting up at the idea. Chris put out his hand, "come on little guy." Nolan took his hand and they walked out of the house.

You were organizing your boxes on the porch when you heard footsteps. You looked up from your boxes, seeing Chris and Nolan walking towards you. You almost forgot how to breathe when you noticed Chris, but you stayed calm. "Hi." You stood up.

Chris stood in front of you, smiling. "Hi,um I'm Chris and this is my son Nolan." Nolan happily waved to you. "We live next door." He said. You smiled. "Hi, I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you both." You smiled down at Nolan.

Out of nowhere your Newfoundland dog, Max, came. Nolan gasped, “Daddy, a friend for Dodger.” Max stopped running once he noticed nolan. He walked his fluffy self up to the little boy and started licking his face. Nolan laughed trying to push him away. You chuckled, grabbing Max's collar, “okay, let him breathe buddy.”

Chris chuckled. Looking at you. You seriously had not one flaw about you.

“Sorry, he’s just friendly.” Chris shook his head, “it’s fine, i think he likes it, don’t you nolan?” Nolan looked up at his dad. “Yes. Daddy, can i play with him, can I please?” he begged. Chris pointed to you, “You gotta ask her.”

Nolan looked at you. “Can I play with him please?” you nodded, “sure, oh but if he attacks you just call me okay?” Nolan nodded. You let go of max’s collar. Nolan started walking with max further into the yard where his ball was. “Maybe later you can meet dodger, our doggy.”

You chuckled, turning back to Chris. he was scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry I don’t have a pie. I heard it was tradition to do that when people move in next to you.” he chuckled nervously. You swatted your hand, “it’s fine.” Chris and you stood in silence. You both were feeling something towards each other and you both definitely could tell.

“Would you like me to help you bring your boxes in?” Chris broke the silence by asking that question.

“Oh, yes. I’ll love your help.” you picked up the book near your feet and chris picked up the other one. You walked into the empty house, sitting the boxes on the ground near the door. "So how long have you been living in this neighborhood?" you turned to Chris.

He sucked in his breath, "um for about 4 years. Ever since Nolan Mom left him when he was two weeks old, I have been living next door." Chris got an upset look on his face as he finished. You felt a little guilty for asking that question after he talked about Nolan Mom being a complete asshole. How could she let that precious boy go?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up anything you didn't want to talk about." Chris shook his head, "it's alright, you didn't do anything. Here let's go bring the rest of the boxes."

You beamed at him. "Yes let's do that."

Chris helped you bring in all of your boxes in less than 15 minutes. He hasn't known you for long, but he could tell you were different from other women. You lit up every time you talked about something you were passionate about. Even when he talked about Nolan you smiled. He was definitely starting to like you more and more.

-♥-

Alright all of the boxes are inside. Thank you for your help." You smiled at Chris. He smiled back, "it was nothing." You walked up to your boxes. "Well I'm going to get unpacking now." Chris nodded making his way to the door. He was about to leave, but he's mind was telling him to stay so he listened.

"Hey um, y/n would like to come over for dinner tonight?" You stopped fidgeting with the boxes. "Uh, yeah sure. I would like that." Chris nodded his head. "Okay you can come by around 7. I'll bring Max back." You thanked him once again and he left.

A few seconds later Max's was at your door with his ball in his mouth. You chuckled opening the screen door from him. "Come in big boy." He walked in and ran straight to his water bowl you sat up for him. He gulped it down and you continued to inbox a few things.

Around 6:30, you decided it would be best if you got ready. You took a warm shower. The warm water on your body was an amazing feeling, you loved to stay in all day but you had to get out unfortunately. You slipped on a pair of pants and a blouse. After you got ready, you waited and watched TV until 7 arrived.

Chris on the other hand was scrambling to get ready. He was nervous to have you over. You were a beautiful woman and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for when you came over.

"Daddy, why are you in a hurry?" Nolan appeared beside Chris as he chopped up a few things. "Um, were having y/n over for dinner tonight." Nolan smiled. "Yay." Chris laughed as Nolan cheered.

"How about you clean your toys up so when she comes over it's not too messy." Nolan nodded and walked off to clean up, at least that's what he thought.

The doorbell rang and Chris went to answer it, but stopped when he saw Nolan playing with his toys instead of Cleaning them up.

"Nolan I said clean up your toys, bub." Nolan stood up, shame was on his face. "Sorry Daddy." Chris scooped him up before he could get anymore upset. "It's okay let's just let y/n in."

Chris walked up to the door and opened it. You stood on the other side, smiling. "Hi." Chris moved to the side letting you in. You walked in taking in the picture on the walls. It was his family and a few pictures of dodger and Nolan. It made you smile wider looking at them.

"Sorry it's a little messy here." You turned to Chris, he was putting down Nolan. "Oh no it's fine, your�� dad, things will be all over the place, nothing to worry about." Chris chuckled softly. "Thank you."

He put down Nolan and he walked up to you. "Do you want to play with me y/n?" You nodded, "I would love to." You turned to Chris, seeing if that was okay. He nodded. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Youfollowed Nolan to his playroom. "What are we going to play with?" Nolan looked at you. "We can play with my trucks." You nodded, alright let's do it." He handed you a red truck and he kept the blue one. You both played for a while and also laughed. You both didn't even notice Chris in the doorway watching you play.

He loved how his son is getting attached to you. He hasn't had that connection with any other women except his sisters and mom, it's good to see him getting along with someone other than those 3.

"Hey." You and Nolan turned around. "Dinners ready." You got up and so did Nolan. You all walked to the dinning room where Chris had already set up dinner. Chris happily pulled out your seat for you. You thanked him for his kind gesture and sat down. Chris walked to his chair and took a seat. Nolan was already deep in his food, you did everything you could to not laugh at him as you eat yours.

"So y/n what do you do for a living?" You looked at Chris, clearing your throat. "Well I'm a writer and sometimes a substitute teacher for middle school."

A little oh fell from Nolan's lips. "I going to middle school." You nodded, eyebrows raised. "Are you now?" He nodded happily, "yeah, but not yet. I'm still in kindergarten." He turned to Chris. "Right daddy?" Chris laughed. "Yes bub, your right."

You all continued to eat and make small conversation. You noticed every now and then, Chris would look at you smiling when you talked to Nolan. You could feel your stomach churning.

When you all finished, Chris took your plate to the sink and you got up. "Miss. Y/n." You turned to Nolan, "yes?"

"Can you stay and read a book with me? I'm just learning how to read." He said proudly." You nodded. "Yes, I'll love to." Chris watched as you left and followed him to the living room. He pulled out his favorite book and began to read it to you. He needed help with a few words, but other than that he aced it.

He finished, and turned to you. "Did I do good?" You nodded, "yes, you did amazing." Chris walked around the couch, "it's time to get ready for bed, can you say goodnight to y/n." Nolan turned to you. "Bye, y/n," he opened his arms and hugged you. You wrapped your arms around his tiny frame hugging him. "Goodnight Nolan, it was nice talking to you." He giggled softly in your chest.

You said goodbye and walked home. Chris put Nolan to bed. He was happy and Nolan noticed. "Daddy, you're very happy." Chris smiled as he tucked Nolan in. "Yes, daddy is quite happy today." He kissed Nolan's forehead before he said goodnight and walked out of the room.

His phone rang and Chris answered it when he noticed who it was. "Ma."

"Hi Chris." Chris smiled and lisa could hear it in his voice. "Why are you so happy?" Chris chuckled, "well, someone just moved in next to me and um she's beautiful. I really like her and she's so good with Nolan." Lisa gasped on the other end of the phone. "Oh my, are you going to ask her on a date?"

Chris sucked in his breath, "um I don't know. I don't know if she likes me back, but we'll see."

Nolan was listening to Chris from the top of the stairs. He knew his daddy liked you, and he was smart enough to know you liked him back. Now all Nolan wanted to do was set you and his Daddy up.

-♥-

The next day Nolan woke up to the smell of breakfast. He got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen. "Good morning daddy." Chris turned to him. "Hi, good morning buddy." Chris placed a plate of waffles in front of Nolan and he began to eat. "So today Daddy's going to do some work." Nolan nodded. "And I'll just play."

After getting Nolan ready for the day Chris went to work and so did Nolan. He knew he might get in trouble, but he really wanted you and Chris together. While Chris was taking a call Nolan took Dodger who was laying in bed and walked out the back door with him. He could see you in the backyard working on the garden. "Y/n!"

You looked through the fence. "Oh hi Nolan, where's your daddy?" He looked at you. "He's inside. I got Dodger, do you and Max want to meet him?" You nodded, "sure." You walked to the gate and let him in your yard. As soon as Max noticed Dodger he ran up to him, sniffing his butt. "Can I help you with your garden?" You nodded, handing him gloves. He helped you plant a few things, you loved having his help.

Chris was just finishing up a call and was going to check on Nolan. "Nolan buddy." He got no answer. Chris frowned and walked further into the house. "Nolan?" He noticed the backdoor open. He walked out of the house. "Nolan?"

Nolan beside you heard Chris calling him. "Over here daddy." Chris sighed jogging over to your house. "Nolan, what are you doing over here?" You turned around looking at him, he was frowning with his hands on his hips. "Daddy I'm sorry, I just wanted to come over to tell y/n you like her."

Chris felt his face warm up. "Nolan, I… " Chris' eyes flicked to you. You were looking at him with wide eyes. "Um, Nolan, can you give me and y/n sometime talk." He nodded and ran after the dogs who were rolling around in the grass.

"So," you walked up to him. "You uh, like me?" Chris' eyes fell to the ground."Yes, I like you. I know you just moved in but seeing you with Nolan it just makes me so happy. You don't have to like me back but yes I like you."

You exhaled, "Chris I like you too actually. I mean these past two days have been nice with you and Nolan and I wouldn't mind spending more time with you both." Chris beamed when he heard that you liked him back. "So how about a date on Wednesday?"

You smiled, "sure, that sounds nice." Chris bite his lip looking at the ground. "I'm sure Nolan wanted us together."

You turned to look at Nolan, Dodger and Max's, laughing at them all rolling around in the grass. "Yeah, he definitely did that on purpose." Chris chuckled, walking up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I'm not even mad either." You turned to look at him smiling.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

@badbo1-evans @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @bval-1 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @raveviolet @rynabarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captainamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @jillanaholland @rororo06 @briannab1234 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @kianifan @adriannajackson @boojack73 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #chris evans smut #single dad! Chris #dad! Chris Evans

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janeykath318 · 3 years

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The Gardener Next Door

Darcy felt like she’d finally made it: finished her PhD and found a great job that allowed her to upgrade from her tiny apartment to her very own house in the suburbs. It needed a little work, but it had charm and personality and Darcy took several months making it her own. The neighborhood she lives in was mostly elderly people or young newlywed couples and the people were generally very friendly. Sweet Mrs. Messer brought her over baked goods regularly and shared the local gossip while Old Mrs. Richards brought her puppy over for regular visits. Before she’d lived there six months, she knew almost everyone on the block except for her next door neighbor on the left, who didn’t appear to be the sociable type.

Even Mrs. Messer hadn’t been able to find out much information, other than his name was something Grant and he liked to garden and preferred to be left alone.

“He must be one of those grumpy old hermit types,” Mrs. Messer sighed. “Never answered the door when I went to bring him a welcome to the neighborhood pie. I wonder what happened to the poor man to make him so wary of people.”

“I don’t know, but maybe you could try leaving some on his front porch with a friendly note. Once he’s discovered the glory of your chocolate chip cookies, he might just loosen up a little.” Darcy suggested.

This cheered up Mrs. Messer and she scurried off to start baking.

Mysterious Neighbor Dude clearly preferred a motorcycle as his form of transportation, but he always pulled right into the garage, so she was never able to get a glimpse of him without his helmet.

As spring went on, Darcy started spending more time outside in her cozy lounge chair, from which she started noticing her neighbor working outdoors. Even from the distance she could see by the way he moved, he was still in the prime of life and he appeared to be a workout fiend, judging by the size of his shoulders and arms.

He wore a big floppy straw hat that kept the sun off, which was probably a good thing because he was working in his garden almost nonstop on sunny days. It was kind of fascinating watching the progression from bare dirt to tiny plants. So far, their only interaction was a friendly wave when he caught her staring and Darcy was dying for more, but he’d never approached her and she didn’t want to invade his privacy.

But then she came home one day to find a big basket of lettuce and radishes on her front porch.

There was a note with them:

“Sharing some lettuce with you. It makes delicious salads. Have a nice day!”

The note was not signed and Darcy squinted at it for quite awhile like it would suddenly start talking and reveal its author, but alas, no such luck.

The lettuce did make excellent salads and she thought about her hunky neighbor with every bite.

Mrs. Messer came over very excitedly to report that the cookies had been taken and she too had been given a basket of lettuce.

“Looks like you were right, Darcy. The man just needed a little kindness. I wonder if he likes lemon bars…..”

As the weeks went by, the gifts of veggies continued, varying as different things came into season. Peppers, carrots, tomatoes, and green beans all arrived steadily and were either quickly eaten or given to Darcy’s vegetarian co-worker.

Darcy started replying to his notes on the fifth basket and soon they had a funny banter going back and forth, filled with vegetable puns.

“Lettuce be friends?” She wrote on the note left in the empty basket which had previously held plump red tomatoes and would be supplying her with BLTs for a long time.

“Yes, peas!” he’d replied on the next basket, which did contain the mentioned vegetable.

“Why are you so cute and unreachable?” Darcy murmured to herself, stashing the note away with a smile.

She laid out sunbathing in her favorite bathing suit the next day and since there was no fence between their backyards, the hot neighbor dude got a nice view. This time it was Darcy who caught him staring and waved happily, pretty sure he was blushing. Ugh. He was just too adorable. She wanted to March over there and plant one on him, pun slightly intended. He briefly took off his hat to wipe sweat off of his face and she caught a glimpse of dark hair and beard. Dang it, that was a GOOD look!!

The notes and vegetable puns continued, but now they were accompanied by cute sketches of cartoon vegetables representing the various neighbors. Darcy absolutely loved it and it proved her suspicions that the so-called hermit was much more observant than he seemed.

“So you’re an artist as well as a champion gardener? Is there anything you can’t do?” She wrote on the next note.

“Plenty,” he replied back. “I sure can’t bake and I can’t seem to be able to remember how to speak when my pretty neighbor is around.”

Darcy was floored, but thrilled, and wrote and rewrote seven replies before she finally figured out how to word her response.

“Here I was thinking you didn’t want to talk to me. Guess we’re both disasters at communicating.”

The response to this rang Darcy’s doorbell the very next evening and she opened it to see her neighbor, up close and personal, looking all kinds of shy and adorable and holding out a bouquet of gorgeous flowers that she knew came from his yard.

“Aww, how sweet!” She exclaimed, accepting the flowers eagerly. “They’re beautiful. Nice to finally meet you……….”

Her voice trailed off as she recognized the gorgeous and famous face in front of her.

“Steve,” he finished quietly, almost apologetically. “I’m sorry for the secrecy. I’ve been hiding out living the retired life and trying my hand at new hobbies.”

He looked even more nervous now, probably thinking she was going to either throw him out or go yelling to the neighbors.

“Please, come in,” she told him, heart pounding. “I’m Darcy Lewis, astrophysicist and former Avengers wrangler. I did NOT recognize you from across the yard with the dye job. It’s a good look, though. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” Steve sighed, relaxing a touch. “I think I remember seeing you yelling at Tony a few times. It was pretty neat, the way you made him cower.”

“I learned early on, Tony needed a firm hand or he would never eat or sleep and bad things happened,” Darcy recalled, with a pang of sadness. “You guys saved the world,” she added. “I think you’ve more than earned your privacy and a peaceful retirement.”

Steve cracked a crooked smile. “That’s very gracious of you. Some days, it’s a pretty big struggle for me to believe that, thinking about everyone we lost. Gardening’s been keeping me sane.”

“And you’re doing a fabulous job with it. I’ve never had such perfect tomatoes,” Darcy told him with a smile.

“I was pretty proud of them,” Steve admitted, then he grew serious again and looked at her very earnestly with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Darcy, do you still want to…”

“Yes,” Darcy interrupted. “Heck yes. I like you, Steve. I didn’t really know you apart from Captain America before and I’m finding regular Steve to be more irresistible than Mrs. Messer’s lemon bars.”

Steve chuckled and started to turn pink, which was even cuter seen close up.

“Given how amazing those are, that’s high praise,” he remarked, with a twinkle in his eye. “Looks like I’ve got a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.”

They shared another long look and Steve moved into her personal space with intent-to-kiss written all over his face.

Darcy was very much down for that and nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around him. The pent up feelings resulted in a pretty intense kiss, which left her weak in the knees and practically hanging onto Steve for dear life.

“Well that was worth it,” she whispered, when she’d caught her breath. “I’m so glad you didn’t actually go to the moon. There’s been rumors.”

Steve full on laughed at that, a joyous sight which she’d never witnessed before, but was very glad to finally see. His eyes crinkled, his face lit up and he looked so adorably cute, her heart turned into a puddle of goo.

“Don’t know where they came up with that one,” he remarked, shaking his head in amusement. “But I have no intentions of going to the moon. I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Good, because I need some more of those green beans, ASAP,” Darcy replied mischievously, barely refraining from making an eggplant joke. She didn’t want to be TOO forward.

“How about you come over and I can give you the grand tour?” Steve suggested.

“Yes, peas.” She responded, making him laugh again.

Before long, the neighbors were gossiping again, this time over the shocking sight of “Mr. Grant” making out with Dr. Lewis right in his backyard.

“I knew it!” Old Mrs. Richards chuckled, petting her dog gleefully.

“I’ll volunteer to make their wedding cake!” Exclaimed Mrs. Messer.

#shieldshock #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #retired! Steve #fluff

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onlysarah235678 · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

Request: Can you write about the reader working in healthcare/retail (during or not during COVID-your choice) and she meets Billie and they hit it off?

A/N: So I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would…don’t expect that to happen again. I hope this is okay. I decided to write about the members of healthcare we don’t always hear about. Also, my friend’s a vet so… enjoy?

Warnings: None? Brief mention of bugs?

It had been wandering around her neighborhood for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that Billie Dean paid it much attention. She’d assumed that the cat was one of her neighbor’s and they just let it roam around. She’d seen its lithe black form darting across the streets on days when she returned from filming late into the night, but besides briefly wondering about where it was going, she never spared it much thought.

However, as she peered under her deck at the sound of quiet meows, she realized she had a problem. She had been out working in her garden on one of her rare days off when she heard it. The medium had turned and seen a pair of eyes from across the yard, and despite her better judgement she went to investigate.

Now, as she stared at the black cat surrounded by her litter of 6, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting back to her garden anytime soon.

“Dr. Y/L/N, Lindsey just added another one to your morning.”

You tried not to groan in annoyance when you heard one of the vet assistants say this to you. The day had barely started, but things had been ridiculously busy. The practice you worked at had up to 5 other doctors working at a time on a regular weekday, but since today was Saturday, there were only two working.

Dr. Hahn and you.

The schedule had already been booked by the time you arrived to work, and it was just luck that you had a cancellation for your 11:30 slot. You had already planned on taking an early lunch when news of another appointment being scheduled came. You tried not to be annoyed because this was your job and you did love it. You were just exhausted. It had been a long week.

A long month really.

Since moving to L.A after finishing school, you hadn’t spent much time doing anything other than work. Let alone getting to know the city. You had jumped into your work and spent almost every waking minute thinking about it. As a new vet, you were trying your best to prove yourself and make a good impression at your job. You thought you were doing a fairly good job, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to have much time to yourself.

Other than walking your dog, Milo, who had made the cross-country trip with you, most of your free time was spent making sure you had the most up-to-date information out there to offer your clients. You didn’t want to be caught off guard, not again.

You eventually smiled at the assistant and thanked her despite wanting to glare instead.

“Thank you, Erin.”

It wasn’t her fault you weren’t getting your early lunch.

After corralling the cat and her kittens into the most suitable container she could find, Billie Dean was on her way to the vet. She had called a couple and unfortunately hadn’t been able to get an appointment so last minute. She had almost given up, when the last one she’d called had luckily had a cancellation for only about an hour away.

It was perfect timing until it took her almost 20 minutes to get the cats out from under the deck. The mom hadn’t trusted her immediately and it had taken some coaxing before she’d risked reaching out to pet the mother. While speaking more reassurances that she was sure the cats didn’t understand, Billie Dean collected all 6 kittens and the mother and loaded them into the front seat.

It wasn’t until she started driving that she realized she might be late. This clinic was almost 30 minutes away with normal weekend traffic. Billie Dean sighed before she made sure that all of the cats were still settled in the box before beginning to drive a little bit faster.

Hopefully she wouldn’t be too late.

“They’re late.”

You hadn’t realized it immediately because your last appointment ran over, but once 11:40 rolled around you realized that your 11:30 had never shown up.

You had looked over the details of the appointment quickly realizing that hopefully it would be routine kitten stuff. You hadn’t recognized the name of the owner because well, you didn’t watch much television. It wasn’t until the assistant you were working with for the morning, commented on it, that you realized that Billie Dean Howard was anything special.

“Oh no! She didn’t show up?? Ugh, I was dying to meet her.”

You turned to your disappointed assistant, Erin with a confused frown. You continued to type up your medical note from the last appointment before asking off-handedly.

“Who did you say she was again?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have noticed Erin shoot you an incredulous look. Instead you were writing about the last patient’s bloodwork when the brunette finally answered you.

“Look, Dr. Y/L/N. I know you’re new to town, but how do you not know who Billie Dean Howard is?”

You just shrugged while shooting the younger woman a sheepish look. You were very good about being the last to know things. It wasn’t your fault you were so out of touch from school. There had hardly been any time for television when you were always studying.

“Sorry, you know I don’t watch much tv.”

Erin shook her head with a sigh before she decided to take pity on you. You finished typing your note and turned to face the other brunette as she explained to you who your missed appointment had been.

“She’s a famous medium who goes to various places around the world that are haunted for her television show. It’s so good, I watched an entire season yesterday.”

Before you had a chance to ask how that was possible, Lindsey appeared with a piece of paper and a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Your 11:30 is here.”

You looked at the clock, it was a quarter to noon, before you just nodded with a small smile. Lindsey handed the check in sheet to Erin who grabbed it with an excited squeal that made you nearly roll your eyes.

At least one of you were excited for this.

Billie Dean was beyond stressed. She had been making good time for her appointment, when the mom cat, she’d taken to calling her Bit, had decided to jump out of the box and explore her car. She’d been so distracted and worried that she’d slowed to the point that people were honking her off the road. She’d stopped in a parking lot to try and get Bit back into the box, but as soon as the door opened, she’d jumped out.

Billie had questioned her decision to not just ignore the cat this morning as she spent the next 15 minutes trying to catch Bit and return her to the car.

Now, she was really late and she knew that she had probably missed her appointment. She hurried inside with the box, making sure to hold onto Bit so she didn’t jump out again before opening the front door. She hurried toward the counter with an apologetic smile and a hopeful look.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a bit of a time getting here. I have an appointment for 11:30.”

Billie figured she didn’t need to give her name because the look on the receptionist’s face when she saw her was telling enough. She was used to having fans so she just smiled politely as the other blonde, Lindsey, her nametag said, nodded frantically and ran to the printer.

“Of course, Ms. Howard. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Billie watched as the younger blonde nearly ran toward the back before she sat down with a sigh. She looked at the box of cats with a small smile. She scratched Bit’s chin before she checked on each of the kittens. They all looked so tiny and weak. They all were huddled up in the middle of the box sleeping on top of each other. It was truly adorable.

“Ms. Howard?”

The medium had been too busy contemplating how many of the kittens she could keep to realize that someone else had entered the waiting room. She looked up to see a brunette smiling at her and holding a door to the back open. She jumped up, clutching onto the box carefully before making her way over to the woman in scrubs.

“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Erin just smiled and shook her head as she led Billie Dean to a nearby exam room. She’d already screamed silently before coming to get the blonde so she wouldn’t geek out, but she couldn’t help but be a little starstruck by the medium’s presence.

“It’s not a problem, we’re just glad to see kittens on our schedule.”

You waited while your assistant got the history from Billie Dean. From where you were seated in the pharmacy, you could hear some of what was being said. It sounded like a standard visit. No issues except for apparently a random cat decided to have kittens underneath Billie’s porch. You tried not to overthink this visit as you listened to the blonde talk to her assistant. You hadn’t been nervous before because you hadn’t really needed to be.

Except that was when you hadn’t known that you were going to be seeing someone who was famous. Someone whose name you didn’t even recognize, but that was beside the point. The point was that now that the idea was in your head, you were freaking out a little bit.

You could hear a slight accent in her voice and you couldn’t help but smile at it. It sounded cute.

You sat up slightly, startled at the sudden thought. You shook your head scolding yourself for being so unprofessional and attempted to push that thought to the back of your mind. You turned at the sound of the exam door opening and watched as Erin shut it behind her quietly with a huge smile on her face.

“She’s so cool. Oh my god that was so cool!”

She whisper screamed at you and you couldn’t help but laugh in amusement. Someone was clearly starstruck. Hopefully she could get through this without embarrassing them. Or at least her. Anyone. Hopefully no one would be embarrassed.

“Hi, Ms. Howard. I’m Y/F/N, Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

You were surprised by what greeted you inside the exam room. The cat that was bouncing around the room was less of a surprise than the woman who sat in one of the chairs against the wall. You had to stop herself from showing your surprise as you took in the blonde who you’d never heard of until about an hour ago.

Billie Dean Howard wasn’t what you’d been expecting. She was middle-aged with honey blonde hair that fell in neat curls. She was wearing a silk blouse and a skirt with heels. She was definitely the most dressed up of all of your clients today. God, she was beautiful and you had to remind yourself to not stare at her legs as you held out your hand.

The medium smiled as she reached out her own hand and shook yours. Her hand was so soft, but you counted to two before releasing it with a shake of your head.

“Nice to meet you Dr. Y/L/N. I apologize for being so late.” You smiled at the thought of what Erin had told you. It sounded like she had a hell of a time getting here. You couldn’t blame her after what she’d gone through to simply get these cats looked at.

“No need. It sounds like this one was quite the troublemaker.” You pet Bit as she wandered over to you to check you out, and you smiled as she rubbed her face on your hand.

You noticed Billie roll her eyes with a sigh and you couldn’t help but smile at what she said.

“She definitely was. That’s where her name came from after all.”

You frowned in confusion but didn’t get a chance to ask before Billie was explaining herself. She eyed you curiously as she shrugged indifferently.

“I may have called her, her name with an added ‘ch’ a couple times on the way here. Specifically, while I was chasing her around a Denny’s parking lot.”

You tried not to laugh at the ridiculous image that conjured in your brain, but it was useless. You were laughing before you could help it because honestly who wouldn’t find this elegant woman running after a cat in a parking lot hilarious.

You stifled your laughter before you cleared your throat and shot Billie a smile. “Well, it sounds like the name suits her.”

You examine each of the kittens carefully, and confirm that they are less than a week old since their eyes are still closed. They are all a little buggy from living under the deck so you deworm them and Bit so she won’t spread any parasites to them. As you explain this to Billie while applying the medication, you notice that she is shooting you an odd look. You don’t really worry too much about it because it’s probably just confusion from a too-sciency word you used.

When the kittens are all checked out and the mom is back in the box resting with them, you decide that you should figure out what happens next.

“They’ll need their mom for milk for the next month, but have you decided if you want to keep them?”

Erin leaves at this point because now that the exams are done, you’re mostly just talking. You pretend not to notice how she is reluctant to leave, and instead focus on Billie’s wide eyes as she shakes her head with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think I can keep them all. Maybe one or two. I don’t want to be known as the crazy old cat lady.”

You laugh again before moving your stethoscope off the exam table so it’s not sitting in all of the baby food you fed to Bit. “You’re definitely not old, Ms. Howard.”

You nearly slap your hand to your mouth as your eyes widen in mortification. God you did not just say that did you? You look to the blonde about to apologize, but you see her smiling at you instead. You hear her teasing tone and blush despite your best efforts at what she says in response.

“Thank you dear, but please. Call me Billie.”

You nod dumbly before you start picking off some of the black hair on your coat, only to give up after a few seconds. You’re covered and you miss the amused look Billie shoots you as you try to get back on track.

“Okay, Billie. Well once they’re old enough, you can take them to a shelter, or you can bring them here. We adopt out kittens. Our last ones actually just went home with some clients.”

It’s nearly 12:30 when you’re finished answering some of Billie’s general questions. You had an assistant find a carrier for Billie to take so she wouldn’t have to worry about Bit escaping again. You load the cats into it while Billie gets checked out at the front desk. By the time she gets back, you have only Bit left to put in.

Of course she decides she’d rather run around the room though. You ignore your growling stomach which conveniently covers up the sound of the door opening behind you as you hurry to catch the cat.

“Come here you little, Bit. You need to get in here so your mom doesn’t lose you at Denny’s again.”

Once you finally get her inside the carrier and close it with a sigh, you realize that you are being watched. You look up from where you’re kneeling on the ground to see Billie watching you from the doorway with a smile. You fight a blush as you pick up the carrier carefully before taking a step toward the door.

“Here, let me help you to your car.”

Billie shook her head. She’d already taken up a lot of your time. It was nearly 1 and most everyone else was on lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, sweetheart. I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

Billie looked like she was going to argue, but you just stood with the carrier held in your hand with a smile. Ready to go. She sighed and your smile widened as you followed the blonde out of the building.

You nearly stop short at the pet name, the second pet name she’s used, but you recover just in time to shake your head with a smile.

“Don’t be silly. It’s not a problem.”

You arrive to her car without incident and she opens the backdoor for you. You smile before placing them in the back seat, trying not to be too nosy as you duck into her car before standing up straight again.

“You’re all set, Ms—Billie.”

Billie smiles at your save as she shuts the door behind you. You stand by awkwardly as she takes a moment to study you. She opens her mouth to say something but stops short before simply nodding.

“Thank you again. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You blush before waving her off as you look away to hopefully save face before responding. “Y/F/N, please and you too.”

As you’re about to turn away and head back inside for some much-needed lunch when something occurs to you. You smile slightly as you dig into your pocket and grab a card to hand to her. The medium takes your business card with a smile, and her fingers brush against yours briefly. Your cheeks redden and you curse yourself when you see Billie’s smile turn into a smirk. You manage to speak up before she can and drop your hand away and into your pocket.

“My card. In case you have any questions. You can call us or email anytime.”

Billie looked over the card, realizing that it had the clinic’s number and a shared email address on it. She decided not to be deterred and shot the blushing doctor a curious look.

“So in the event of an emergency, and the clinic’s closed…what number would I call?”

You laughed nervously as you thought about your options. You could tell that Billie was flirting. You were dense, but not that dense, and you decided to take a risk. You shrugged before you dug around in your pocket once again for a pen before reaching out for the card you’d just given away.

“Well you could call the emergency clinic up the road, or you can call me. Whichever.”

Billie looks at the number that you scrawled down with a grin. “This is your personal number?”

You smirked before taking a step back toward the building hoping to retreat before you say something too dumb. “It is. To use for emergencies or whatever else.”

You smile a little wider as Billie’s face lights up and she shoots you a suggestive look. You merely laugh before turning around and heading back inside. You know she’s watching you, but you don’t turn around until you reach the door. You’re not surprised to see her still standing there watching, and you shoot her one last smile and wave before ducking back inside.

Part 2

#billie dean howard #murder house #fic request #billie dean howard x reader #ahs #eeek #american horror story #ahs fanfic #hope you like it anon #:)#a little bit #my fic #ahs imagine

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adaodinson · 3 years

Text

I´ve known since I met you

Yes, writing fics during my online classes is my passion.

English is not my first language.

Summary: You move to a new apartment and one of your new neighbors quickly gains your affection.

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny bit of angst.

Relationship: Bucky x Mexican!reader (it´s for the story, there are no lines in Spanish).

Shared kitchen?! Seriously?! That was ridiculous, who would approve a shared kitchen? You sighed after reading the details of the amazing apartment you had found. It was perfect: pet-friendly, quite reasonable price, pretty close to your work and only four neighbors. It was a small compound with five apartments. It wasn´t a building, the apartments were not on top of each other and it had a huge garden, which was perfect for your dog and two cats. But a shared kitchen.

-Do this people not have that feeling of hatred towards any person that walks into the kitchen when they´re using it?!- You almost yelled to yourself. You chuckled at your situation. It was too good to be true, but it´s still good. You had been looking for a place for almost three months, you had actually slept in your car for a couple of nights because of the fear of settling in a hotel and spending too much money. Luckily your boss was the nicest woman you had ever met, she sympathized with your situation and let you take a few days off (not the three months, of course) even though you hadn´t even started working yet, because you had recently arrived from Mexico. You had moved because of the job, it had been an offer, your dream job, you weren´t gonna waste it.

You decided to visit the place and liked it a lot. If you set aside the kitchen issue, it was perfect. Oh, what the hell? A day later you called the owner of the apartments and finally gave him your answer. Yes. You couldn´t be too picky, and it wasn´t that bad. All the apartments were connected, they were in the middle of the huge garden, next to each other. They had privacy and thick walls, but the kitchen was the “common room” in the middle of the five places.

You settled down in no time since you didn´t have all that much stuff. You took your cats to what would be their “room” and settled their litter box, food, water and bed. They got along just fine with each other and with your dog, so the small space wasn´t a problem. Your dog would sleep in your room (so would your cats even though their beds were on the other room), and her food and water was settled at the small fenced yard that was behind your apartment.

It was really nice, but if you had to be honest with yourself, it had been your metaled-armed neighbor that had convinced you this had been a good idea. You first saw him the day you moved in. You were carrying your huge books box while your dog was playing in between your feet. You tripped and swore you would lose your teeth because of the impact (since your hands were securing the box), but It never came, you only felt a really strong arm holding your stomach and saw the other hand catching the box you were carrying. You were already stunned by his action and strength, so when you saw the man your brain died and then resurrected. He was tall, had broad shoulders, short dark hair, and his face gave the image of a freaking lion and a lost puppy at the same time. You were caught in those deep blue eyes when your dog Cleo literally climbed him and started licking his face. He let go of you and started producing the most beautiful laughter you had ever heard. You reacted (finally) and called your dog to get away from him.

-I´m really sorry, she knows no boundaries. And thank you, thank you for catching me and my books- You said as you pet Cleo to keep her still.

-It´s not a problem, I like her too- He answered happily- And you don´t need to thank me, you seemed more worried about protecting your book rather than your face-.

-Well they´re really good books, and expensive ones- You said with a giggle.

-I´m Y/N- You said as you lifted your hand towards his left one, the one that wasn´t carrying your books.

-I´m Bucky- He made an awkward, almost worried face and shifted the box from his right arm to his left one and shook your hand weirdly (since you were using opposite hands for the shake). It wasn´t too awkward though, you were too lost in his features and touch to care about which hand you were shaking. He was also taking in everything about you. Almost scanning you, your features, your body language, your smile. God, your smile.

You two finally regained focus and he helped you carry in the rest of your boxes.

The second time you encountered him wasn´t as nice as the first one. You had been making your famous chocolate, oatmeal and banana pancakes, ones that you enjoyed a lot, when a lady (another one of your neighbors) came into the kitchen and looked at you with a disapproving grin. You couldn´t care less about what she thought of you, but what she said really triggered you.

-Mmmh, honey, are you sure you want to use chocolate? It has too much sugar, and bananas are really heavy fruits, you should eat a banana alone for breakfast if you want to have good habits- Who does she think she is?! A nutritionist? She didn´t even say good morning and she was already criticizing you. You were about to tell her a few of her truths when you felt a familiar strong hand grabbing your shoulder.

-Good morning Y/N, Ms. Cavanaugh- He listened to what happened and saw the look of anger in your face. You did seem like the type of person to not pull with anyone´s shit, at least to him. But that woman was the owner´s aunt and had a great relationship with him, he had learnt from experience she was a “tough” person, to say the least, but it wasn´t worth it getting on her black list. He was usually shy and reserved, but it was easy to be more “sociable” when he knew the amount of people in the apartment block wouldn´t increase, and that those people would always be the same.

-Morning James- The woman´s face literally shifted from the disgusted look she gave to you the second Bucky walked in. He just smiled and nodded while taking your arm and leading you back to your pancakes.

-That smells great, what are you making?- He asked curiously.

-Chocolate, oatmeal and banana pancakes- You said emphasizing in the “chocolate” and “and” while gazing at the woman.

-Woah that sounds great, I hope there´s enough batter for me to get some of those- You were more relaxed now, but you still didn´t understand why he hadn´t let you defend yourself.

You nodded with a smile and showed him the remaining batter. Ms. Cavanaugh finally left and you turned to him immediately.

-What was that for? That woman needs someone to tell her some of her truths- You said intensely, but not angrily. He softly explained the relation between the woman and the owner, and you quickly understood as you flipped his pancakes.

-Ohhhh, in that case, thank you. You know, it´s the second time you saved me this week, you gotta stop, I don’t like owing people things- He laughed while shaking his head at you.

-If you want me to stop saving you, stop giving me reasons to do so- You tried making an angry face but laughter took the best of you. You two had breakfast together and talked easily through it. He was insanely nice and smart, he seemed reserved and an introvert just like you. Sure, you didn´t let people step on you, but you were shy as hell. He seemed to have an interesting past, but didn´t talk much about it. You didn´t push it, you happily answered all the questions he asked about your family. You were currently telling him a story about your mom and dad from when they were dating.

-So it was really late, and we still don´t know if my dad said “move to the right” or “turn to the right”, because both of my parents say differently, but anyways, my mom offered to park the car and, remember they were not even married, she got in, moved forward and turned to the right. She suddenly felt the car drop a bit, turned to my yelling dad and got out of the car before it sank more INTO THE POOL! She freaking drove my dad´s car into the pool at my grandad´s house and they had to call a hoist at 3am to get it out! I don´t think my grandparents found out but JESUS!

Bucky was holding his stomach as it ached from his laughter.

-NO WAY- he said not being able to form a full sentence.

You were both laughing whole heartedly when your phone´s alarm rang, announcing you had to go to a gathering with your best friend. You apologized to Bucky and explained you had to leave, but before you did that, you basically jumped into his arms for a hug. His immediate reaction was to hold you as close as he could, as strong as he could, but he then remembered his left arm and doubts started filling his mind as you walked away towards the parking place you had outside the apartment’s block. He was afraid of your reaction if he told you, he knew you from a week and was already considering telling you everything about himself. Telling you the truth, but he was too afraid of your reaction. He knew you had recently moved from Mexico, and he also knew you weren´t fully aware of who he was.

But now, he was sure you had felt his metal arm when he held you, he was sure and he was dying. He wandered around the door while “watching” a movie waiting for you to arrive to your apartment. He was sure you knew, so he wanted to explain, at least that he had a metal arm, but he didn´t feel ready to tell you everything yet, or that´s what he tried convincing himself of.

You arrived three hours later. It was 5pm. He heard you walking and saying hi to Cleo (that was now allowed to be at the garden of the whole place, not just your small part). He walked to the kitchen, knowing he would bump into you there.

-Hey- you said with a wide smile as he opened the main door for you.

-Hi, I was just grabbing a snack when I heard you-

-Well, thank you-

-Listen, about my arm, I´m sorry if it made you uncomfortable when you hugged me before you left, I- You cut him off before he continued.

-Hey, your arm has never made me uncomfortable, you’ve been worried about this since I left?-

-Never? For how long have you known?-

-That you have a metal arm? Since I met you haha, it wasn´t hard to tell-

-But, it doesn´t make you uncomfortable? Why didn´t you as-

-Ask about it? It doesn´t make me uncomfortable, at all. And I didn´t ask because you didn´t tell me. If you want me to know, you´ll tell me, it you don´t I won´t invade your privacy-.

He seemed shocked at your words. It hurt you to think he had gone through anything that made him think his arm was unworthy of showing. He smiled, almost hurt. So you did what you had to. You hugged his waist with one arm, and with the other you held his left hand. You gazed at him, asking with your eyes for permission to remove his leather glove. When he nodded, you slowly lifted the material and intertwined you fingers with his metal ones. You then pressed your palm against his, reveling how small your hand was in comparison to his. He felt tears threatening to leave his eyes, but when he felt your head resting against his chest his mind wandered with thoughts. You trusted him enough to let him hold you, even though you knew about his metal arm, you had known about it since you met and it was never a problem for you.

You felt his other arm around your waist and turned to face him. He had a tender look in his eyes, like he was looking at the whole world. You smiled softly, released your fingers from his metal hand and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into your lips. He slowly surrounded you with both of his arms, and you tangled yours around his neck. You could feel him relax into your touch, and your stomach was meeting more butterflies than you had ever felt. Your breaths mixed perfectly, and you felt him smile widely into the kiss. You finally parted, reaching for air. You smiled again and he tenderly caressed your face with his left hand.

-I was about to go and watch a The Hobbit marathon, wanna watch it with me?-

-The Hobbit marathon? There are movies?! And more that one?!-

-There are three, you have NEVER watched them?!- Oh this was gonna be fun.

-I just read the book- He said with a smirk.

-Well, I read the book AND watched the movies, and now I´m curious to see if you´re a crazy fan that´ll hate the movies, or a crazy fan that´ll love them like me-.

-There´s only one way to find out-.

#james barnes #bucky #bucky fic #james buchanan bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel

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