#this is my first year of having more than just family commitments at Christmas time to do so I’ve been very anxious | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bratbarzal · 6 months ago

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On Your Side (NH13) / Prologue

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst, miscommunication, ghosting? maybe, some cursing, mentions of OC having nephews (gross), being broken up with over a text, allusions to anxiety, my oc being argumentative and avoidant (she's me), and nico also being avoidant and a poor communicator (he's a man) (he's also a capricorn) (sorry capricorns)

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

A/N: is a 13k prologue excessive? probably. is the mixture of tenses in this part going to grind your gears? most definitely. am I going to do anything about it? no.

I've never actually published any writing before so go easy on the girl. if I need to tag any warnings just let me know. if you like the fic let me know. if you don't like the fic I beg you I'm having a bad month spare meeeeee.

TW for british english spellings because shock horror I am unfortunately british, get used to u's and s's where you least expect them, I will change my spell check settings for no one!! nico's facebook aunt shenanigans have lit a fire within me today and I was writing a later chapter for this fic and thinking if I don't actually put this out into the world I never will so here we are hi my name is maggie I hope you enjoy

Poppy

New Years has always been Poppy Jensen’s favourite holiday. The dwindling aftermath of Christmas - lights and decorations still hung throughout the city, everyone decked in the hats, scarves and ugly sweaters gifted by distant relatives over the Christmas period, and the six days of limbo usually spent drinking and eating copious amounts of leftovers before the new year, new me resolutions kick in - and experiencing it all in her hometown surrounded by the people she loves the most, there is no other time like it.

This year, she feels like the festive period has been one, long, strung-out horror show.

Self-inflicted, of course, like all the other tragedies of her life, she does know she only has herself to blame for how pathetic it has turned out.

She had prepared herself for Christmas to be a dud. The one time of the year that she and her family put aside their differences, and this year she had opted out - or, so her mother had dramatically concluded; she actually just had work commitments. But, this would be her first spent alone due to the fact her parents had decided to go and visit her older brother, Oliver, and his family in San Francisco.

They didn’t have to fly across the country - Oliver has more than enough money to book his clan on a flight back to his home state, but obviously as the golden child, the Jensen’s must bend to his every whim. Of course, Poppy had been invited. Her relationship with her brother wasn’t mutually acrimonious, but the aforementioned work commitments got her out of that bore-fest.

She does love her brother. Sometimes. Christmas, especially - he’s a great and expensive gift-giver. And she loves his wife, Kimberley, and their two sons - her nephews, James and Lucas - but spending the holidays with them would have been a lot. Her family is hard work on the best of days, and the only reason Christmas is ever bearable is because her mother hires help, and it’s impossible for the stress train to leave the station if Priscilla Jensen is given enough wine early enough in the day to dull her usual wicked demeanour.

Kimberley, God bless her soul, maintains a sober house, and Poppy, as much as she respects this, would not go anywhere near that train wreck if you paid her a million dollars.

There’s also the fact that the holidays were invented to unwind, and Poppy somehow always gets lumped on nephew duty. She had long grown out of her boys are gross phase, but lord, do those two try everything in their power to bring it back. She has lost count of the amount of their bodily fluids she has had wiped all over her best clothes over the years. If she had agreed to fly out, she no doubt would have ended up being the one to watch the kids while everyone else had their version of a good time, and so she’d successfully managed to avoid all that with a half-assed promise of visiting at Easter, instead.

Her brother hadn’t been too upset - one less place setting at the table for him to worry about - but her mother had been livid, and there was no chance Poppy would live it down without owing her.

God forbid she, as an adult, actually got to choose how to spend her time.

She hadn’t actually been completely alone on Christmas, not all day, at least. Her best friend Nia had invited her to eat with her and her dad, but they were hardly putting her in the festive spirit with their constant snipes at each other, and so she’d given herself stomach ache stuffing herself full of corn bread and roasted carrots and dipped out to make it home for the Giants game - because there’s no better tradition than watching your team lose on Christmas Day. At least she wasn’t there to watch her dad and brother yell at the TV and get all grumpy for hours after the fact.

She’d watched Love Actually with mulled wine in hand and fallen asleep on the couch - waking up in the middle of the night to the muffled sound of her neighbours screaming at each other through the walls.

Poppy had the 26th off, and spent the day preparing her apartment for New Years, knowing she wouldn’t have any other opportunity to get her big clean done. She’d cleared out half her wardrobe - done several loads of laundry so that she could donate clean clothes to the women’s shelter a few blocks over - rid her kitchen of all the outdated tinned foods in the backs of her cupboards, dusted every surface, vacuumed every floor, colour-coded her bookshelf to look more aesthetically pleasing and then within an hour put it back in alphabetical order - all in a day’s work.

By the time the 27th rolled around, and she had to return to work, she had tired herself out completely. She had been drained, and the worst part of it all, she didn’t even actually need to be there.

Sure, December was a crazy time to work in the NHL, their schedule unrelenting when the season got into full-swing, and the holiday events that Poppy’s team had to organise seemed never ending, but she had technically been given limbo-week off. Not that her mother had to know.

The Youth Foundation team had all wrapped up work for the year on the 23rd, and if Poppy was a truly good daughter/sibling/aunt, she would have booked herself on a red-eye after the home win that evening, but the second the opportunity to accept an actual real excuse not to change her plans arose, she took it with open arms. Her guilt of lying to her family diminished, along with her will to live at the fact she had - self-inflicted, as always - put herself down to work her favourite time of the year.

Her career with the New Jersey Devils had started with an internship in her final year of college. She had worked with the digital content department for her first year, quickly being sniped by the Foundation in the middle of her second year and working her way past content creation to helping co-ordinate and run some of the community events.

When her friend Jessica had approached Poppy and begged for her to cover her spot in the department they had started out together in for limbo-week, spending it with the team at their games, she had jumped at the bit. She knew no one else would agree to work last minute after having their time off approved, and was pleased to relay to her mom that she had to prove herself as a team player if she wanted more responsibility at work. It was all in the name of bumping up her performance and getting her name out there, and definitely not avoiding her family and that whole shit-show.

Poppy loves her job, and is more than happy with her career, but she could sing about it until the cows come home and her parents could not care less. They rarely ever acknowledged her successes because her life didn’t fit the mould they had set out for her - another reason she hadn’t wanted to spend this Christmas hounded with questions of why don’t you come work for your dad? Or why didn’t you accept the interview Ollie so kindly got for you? She doesn’t want a non-sensical, nothing job made up to keep her under her family’s influence. She has forged her own path, one that many dream of in one of the biggest industries in the country, and no matter how much she disappointed her parents in comparison to her lackey brother, she is content with where she is.

She had completely forgotten, however, that the devils played away on the 29th and 30th, and if she was going to be tagging along with the bare-bones limbo week media crew, there was no way in hell she was getting out of joining the team’s New Years celebrations.

She had done her fair share of dodging team events already this year, and despite the fact she could appease most of her friends within the organisation, there was one person who would not let her off so easy.

This year is Jack Hughes’ first year hosting the big Devils New Years party - he’d, in her opinion, stupidly volunteered pretty much last minute after the venue the team had booked flooded in November and cancelled their reservation - and he would not let Poppy get out of coming, even if that meant scuppering her own annual tradition of getting shit-faced with her girls in their perfectly planned New Jersey bar crawl.

She’d done her best work to convince him - had almost sold him on the dream - she and her best friend, Nia, always start at the bar below Nia’s apartment in Hoboken, and then dot to the bars closest to their other friends apartments until they end up by Poppy’s, which has the perfect little rooftop set up where they get to watch all the fireworks across the Hudson. It’s how she’s spent the holiday every year since she and all her girls turned 21, and it was her favourite day, her favourite way to ring in a new year with her best friends in her favourite place in the world.

Jack’s argument was that he also had a great view across the Hudson from his Jersey City apartment, and that she was less likely to catch hypothermia this year because his view came through floor to ceiling windows and the luxury of central heating.

She’d tried to argue that she had all intentions of meeting her future husband on her adventures through New Jersey, and he gave the quick rebuttal that he had plenty of single friends she was yet to meet.

There was no excuse she could give that he couldn’t counteract, and so she’d eventually given up with the resolution that when he is 3 drinks deep, Jack Hughes can barely remember his own name, let alone keep tabs on where Poppy is, or if she ever showed up in the first place. She can always just say she’s running late until he stops asking.

And then she’d somehow gotten roped into helping him set up.

Jack had cornered her on their flight home from Boston, where they had just lost to the Bruins and, all of a sudden, no one was in any kind of mood to party.

“I swear,” he had said, throwing himself down into the vacant seat beside her as she attempted to clear her inbox on the short journey, swiping away messages and storing others to review when work started back up in the next week, “If I mess up this party, and my name goes down in Devils history tied to the biggest depression session this team have ever seen, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“How the hell would that be my fault?” She had scoffed, kicking at his feet when he had tried to man-spread next to her and they had quite abruptly knocked knees. The staff seats toward the front of the plane weren’t quite as spacious as the player seats further back.

“You brought some serious negative energy with you on this trip,” he shrugged, reaching for the bag of skittles she had stashed in the pocket on the seat in front of her and stealing a handful, “And I can’t blame you for us losing, so I’m gonna blame you for constantly trying to abandon my event and making me feel so insecure about it that it turned into a complete bore-fest because I didn’t have my literal professional event planner friend to help me set it all up.”

Jack Hughes had joined the New Jersey Devils at the same time Poppy had started her internship. There had been some corny ice breaker session for everyone new to the organisation that season, and they’d bonded over their shared love for country music. He’d become dependent on her as a local to the area for recommendations for everything - food, sports bars, coffee, grocery shopping, running routes - and they’d quickly developed a friendship that had lasted them thus far. No fallouts, no drama, no issues. Being friends with Jack is easy.

Poppy is older by near enough 18 months, and considers him as close to a little brother as she will ever find - annoying, teasing, loud and somewhat of a know-it-all, but he cares deeply, and he’s loyal, honest and open with her, and she loves him for it.

“I’ve done my part even helping you plan the thing,” she had to snatch the bag back from him before he finished the skittles off, needing the sugar to keep her awake for the quick drive home when they landed. Jack had been on her back about this party since he had first put his name in the hat to host, and she had been gracious, helping him arrange food, drinks, decorations and DJ equipment in the hopes it would lessen the blow that she didn’t want to attend. “I didn’t bring negative energy.”

“Do I have to kidnap you when we deplane or are you gonna come around tomorrow morning and help me?”

“Kidnap me?” she couldn’t help but laugh, casting a quick measured glance over his figure. “Real cute, Jack, you’re nothing without your stick.”

“I could take you.” He attempted to throw a skittle up into the air and catch it in his mouth, not accounting for the fact they were on a moving, somewhat turbulent plane, and he barely had enough finesse to pull that off on the ground. The candy landed and bounced off his cheekbone, and he watched it fall to the floor with a child-like pout.

“It’s fighting talk like that that would lose you another tooth, Hughesy,” she had threatened in jest.

“I’m a middle child, I don’t start fights I can’t finish, Popcorn.” He also has a track record of giving Poppy the worst nicknames she has ever heard in her entire 24 years on this Earth. “Luke’s already said he’ll help me on the kidnapping front, we have a plan.”

“Your plan is nothing without incentive, Jack. You come at me with weak threats when you could just offer me something in return.”

“Like what?” His eyes narrowed toward her, shuffling in the seat until he was facing her fully.

“I want to bring Nia.” If she was going to be subjected to this, she was bringing back up - and she had thought this would be a good trade, knowing how protective the boys were of their private events, especially those thrown in their own homes.

Poppy hadn’t liked the way his lips curved up immediately, like she had fallen straight into his trap. “Done.” She should have known better. He stood up, edging back into the aisle and sending her a wink. “I’ll text you details on when and where I need you. Your hot friend is more than welcome to offer a hand, too.”

And that is how Poppy has ended up spending the day of New Years Eve, her favourite day of the year, rushing to set up Jack Hughes’ apartment.

Her first task had been to go round to Jack’s and accept the deliveries that came while he and Luke were out picking up the decks for the DJ. Drinks arrived by the crateful, the boxes of paper plates, cups and other table wears took her several trips up and down from Jack’s apartment to the building lobby until she broke out in a sweat, and she had done her best to hang all the decorations, her last call being to pick up the bigger decoration delivery from downstairs.

Poppy, with the help of Lionel, the building’s concierge, loads the elevator full of decor, ranging from golden helium balloons that spell out ‘Happy New Year’ and ‘2024’, a large roll that should hopefully unravel to reveal a backdrop for a makeshift photo-booth, as well as a deconstructed balloon arch that gave her PTSD from the amount of events at the Rock she’d had to put them together.

Lionel offers to come up with her to help unload everything upstairs, but the thought of cramming another person in there with all the stuff makes her feel claustrophobic, so she politely declines - though, when the elevator doors open and she bumps face first into a firm chest, her nose smushing against a khaki t-shirt she wishes she had someone else with her to buffer the tension that stiffens her spine.

A large, calloused hand wraps around her upper arm to steady her, and another reaches out to keep the doors of the elevator from closing in on where she stands. She looks up into eyes swirled with the colour of warm, melted chocolate, and her throat feels just the slightest bit drier than it had 5 seconds ago.

“Hey,” Nico Hischier’s voice is deep, scratchy like he’s just woken up - he probably has given how late the team got in last night - and trickles down in static currents from her ears to the base of Poppy’s back.

She takes a short, startled step back, and gulps down the dryness in her throat before she gives a quick, “Hey,” in response. “Sorry, I’ll just take a second to unload all of this then the elevator is yours.”

“I’ll help,” Nico doesn’t phrase it as a question, as if knowing she would immediately decline. Not, let me help, or do you need help? He’ll just do it. “You get everything out and I’ll take it inside?”

She nods, despite the voice in the back of her head telling her that he’s only helping to get the job done quicker, and be able to get downstairs. She makes a conscious mental effort to drown it out while the two of them work in a silent tandem, her lifting the decorations into the hallway and him towing them down and into Jack’s apartment.

She makes another conscious effort not to watch when he lifts things, the flex of his arms, the rippling muscles of his shoulders.

“Is that the last of it?” He asks, gesturing to the rolled up backdrop leaning on the side of the elevator and propping it open.

“Yeah, but I got it,” Poppy gives a tight smile, lifting the roll but staying in place so the doors don’t close behind her and she doesn’t get stuck any longer in Nico’s presence on her own. “Thanks for helping.”

There used to be a time she couldn’t get enough of being around Nico, but those days are long gone.There is a permanent frigidity between them now - it’s been there since the summer just gone - and she’s overstimulated enough having spent her morning being Jack’s lackey while he no doubt slacks off with his brother grabbing brunch out. Her patience is beyond wearing thin, and so the last thing she needs is prolonged contact with the Devils captain where she will no doubt end up blowing up and making everything worse.

No one wants to ring in the new year with an almighty fallout.

She can’t help the frown that befalls her features when he makes no effort to occupy the elevator. He makes no effort to do anything, only looking at Poppy with a pensive pout. “Jack said I should come help you out.”

Of course he did, she thinks.

For the past four months, Jack Hughes has been acting like it’s his greater purpose in life to bring Nico and Poppy back together - like the demise of their friendship was the greatest personal inconvenience he has ever faced in his life.

He has orchestrated one too many ‘accidental’ run-ins just like this one, and Poppy isn’t going to entertain his childish games any longer.

Nico doesn’t want to be her friend - she knows this for a fact - so Jack’s schemes are becoming a waste of everyone’s time.

“I’m alright, Nia’s on her way, you don’t have to hang around.”

Nia was due at Jack’s apartment two hours ago, but is no doubt still asleep after she was out last night for her pre-New Years celebrations. She’ll come over soon enough, though, and so Poppy doesn’t feel entirely deflated to turn down help she actually might currently need.

“I don’t mind waiting until she gets here.” Nico shrugs, again not giving her a natural opportunity to say no. He nods towards the apartment, gesturing for Poppy to start making her way over. “We both know she won’t take the stairs.”

Something about the way he so casually recalls information about her best friend plucks at her nerves, just a little, reflective of the part of their lives they had once shared with each other like it was nothing, but she shrugs it off, beginning to head towards the apartment with the roll tucked under her arm.

“I thought New Years was your favourite holiday?” He asks once they’re both inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him and somewhat trapping her in his presence echoing throughout the room. He doesn’t allow for any kind of prolonged silence between the two of them. If Nico Hischier is good at anything, it’s getting people to talk to him.

It’s not entirely that she doesn’t want to talk to him.

She does.

She’s wanted to talk to him every day for the past 4 months that they hadn’t talked - has been craving even mundane, casual conversation about the weather or traffic on the way into work, but now, as he yet again indifferently recollects such personal details about her as if they have remained close, she begins to feel uneasy.

“It is,” she gives a half-hearted, dismissive response.

“Then why are you all grumpy?”

“I’m not.” She frowns, eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing as she turns to face him, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.

She’s not trying to be difficult. Or maybe she is. She is in a particularly bad mood, but she had thought she’d done a good job at masking it. He’d been around her all of 2 minutes and saw right through her.

“Jack said you’ve been off all morning.”

Like he cares, she thinks, her mood souring further at the fact he doesn’t see through her or even care at all, he’s here at the request of someone else. Following up on his duties as a captain and fulfilling a favour for one of his actual friends.

Embarrassment floods the pit of her stomach, and rears its ugly head in the form of her biting tone when she replies, “Jack’s been out all morning, how would he know?”

“He left you to do all this on your own?” Nico frowns, gesturing around to the half-way set up apartment. All that’s left to do aside from put up the decorations she’s just lugged up is set up the food and drinks, and Poppy figured she could leave that task to Jack so that it all remained fresher for longer.

“I do this kind of thing for a living, remember?”

She cringes inwardly at the venom in her voice, turning away from him with a huff and missing the way his posture deflates.

“You run events, Poppy, you’re not an assistant.” She can hear his heavy footsteps follow as she moves to set up the photo-booth area. “If I’d known he had you running after him all morning, I’d have-,”

“Called someone else to come help me so you could carry on avoiding me?”

She really is wound up now. Jack bailing on her to do God-knows what while she sets up his party had been one thing - there was a rational part of her brain that would tell her there would no doubt be hiccups in trying to source a bunch of DJ equipment in New Jersey on New Years Eve and he hadn’t actually bailed - and she could write off Nia’s disappearance due to the fact Poppy had sprung the plans on her last minute when she got home and called her last night, and she was bound to show up at some point. But Nico implying she is letting Jack walk all over her and needs anyone’s help to get through setting up a basic party is downright offensive. At least, in her stressed out state, it is - and so she can’t find it within herself to bite her tongue about their situation any longer.

If it drives him away and brings back her solitude to finish setting up without him occupying any precious mind space, so be it.

She almost forgets a key fact about the man before her. He doesn’t give up so easily.

“I’m not avoiding you.” He bites back, stepping into her space and helping her lift the backdrop roll to fit into the brackets she had set up earlier when the structure for the booth had arrived. “I would have come to help you, myself, Poppy.”

She wishes he would stop saying her name.

4 months of radio silence and he’s thrown it at her like a dagger twice in the span of 30 seconds, the way his it rolls of his tongue in a low, smooth rasp scratching an itch she didn’t know she had, and now she can’t shake it.

“I’m fine,” she huffs, reaching as far as she can and pressing until she hears the brackets click into place. At the brief noise, Nico catches on to what he needs to do at his side and manages to click it into place, barely lifting his arms. She moves into the middle of the structure, pulling at the velcro tab holding the roll together until it cascades to the floor and unveils the backdrop in its entirety.

“What else needs doing?” He asks, his tone gentler this time.

“Nothing,” she mutters, winding the velcro in between her fingers to occupy them, before moving to pass him and make her way to the next task on her list. It’s only small things now. Arranging the balloons, setting up the arch, clearing table space for the equipment when Jack finally arrives home. “You can go, I’ve got it.”

“Mohn,” Nico sighs lowly, warm hand clasping around her forearm as she attempts to pass, holding her in place beside him.

She really wishes he wouldn’t call her that.

If Jack is the prince of childish monikers that make her insides curl, Nico is the king of making her melt.

The nickname takes her straight back to the days before the waves of the summer break washed their friendship away. The times where he’d give her a ride home from the Prudential Center after work, whispering a, “Goodnight, Mohn,” in her ear as they hugged goodbye over the centre console in the front of his car. The times she’d meet up with the team to celebrate a win at their favourite bar, and he’d throw a never-casual, “Looking good, Mohn,” her way with an appreciative once-over.

And it takes her even further back to when they had met, and she’d first offered her name.

“I’ll be interning with the content team, my name is Poppy,” she had offered a bright smile, reaching her hand out for him to shake, and making sure to keep a firm grip, just like her father had taught her, when he places his hand in hers. As she had done since she was a child, it was instinctual to follow up with, “Like the flower.”

“Mohnblume,” he had uttered, a smile so deep his cheeks dimpled into deep valleys.

“Huh?” She had been only a little bit caught out by the way his eyes shone, forgetting her manners as her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Poppy flower, that’s what it is in my language.”

“Oh,” she had exclaimed, furrowed brows raising, a soft flush warming her cheeks, “Pretty!”

“Very.”

She had convinced herself for a long time that it was just his way of remembering - an aid in blurring the lines between the two languages that, especially back then, he often found himself mixed up in. And then, after a while, using it seemed to bring a protected familiarity between them - like an inside joke - and he’d use it less in front of others and more in the times it was just the two of them.

Years down the line from hearing it for the first time, and months down the line from hearing it for the last, her heart still thumps the same erratic beat at the sound.

Nico’s eyes still shine the same way when he looks down at her, and she fights every fibre of her being not to think too much about it. Or not to think about the touch of his hand on her arm, still holding her in place, the two of them closer than they have been in a long time, now.

It’s painfully easy to forget the months of distance after only seconds in his immediate company - to wipe from her memory the reason for her reticence and to push down the stubborn desire to push him away.

Her lips part to speak, and she doesn’t know if she’s about to turn him down or take him in, because another voice fills the apartment before any words get the chance to spill out.

“I come bearing gifts!” A sing-song lull breaks the silence as her best friend makes her presence known, entering the apartment with a drinks carrier in one hand, and a to-go back over the other wrist.

Poppy steps away, shaking Nico’s grip from her arm, and turns to give Nia her full attention, hoping that she is either too hungover or too focused on herself to see or care about the obvious tension between her and the captain. She manages to bite her tongue from letting a Thank God slip out, and makes her way over to retrieve a much needed drink.

“They were out of chai so I got you an iced tea,” Nia holds out the drink to Poppy, and then the to go bag, “And half a cinnamon roll.”

“Half?”

“What? I was hungry too.” Nia scoffs, turning her attention to the brooding presence on the other side of the room. “Sorry, Nico, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Would you have only eaten a third if you did?” He trials a joke, and when Poppy sneaks a peak back toward him, he looks apprehensive - scratching at the nape of his neck as if anticipating a bad reaction to his attempt at lighthearted humour.

“I’m sure Poppy doesn’t mind sharing if you’re starving,” Nia makes her way to the bar set up by the kitchen, placing her own cup down and shrugging off her purse beside it.

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving her of half a cinnamon roll.” While his words are directed to her best friend, Nico looks at Poppy with a wistful smile, and she can practically see the memory of an old shared routine wash over his eyes.

A weekly ritual of meeting by the PATH station close to both of their apartments on a free morning for a run, and then catching breakfast to go and grab a juice or a smoothie for the walk home - abandoned just like all the other little traditions they once had together.

Nico and Poppy had been close, before. Closer than she is to Jack, now - closer than she’s been to anyone else on the team, ever. So close that Nico knows her best friend enough to joke around with a familiar ease; so close that they’d even hung out as a three before, back when the girls shared an apartment in Poppy’s first year with the Devils, and he had been the only person that Nia had ever been happy to share her childhood friend with.

And now, Poppy stands between them in a silence so uncomfortable she feels like the room is shaking.

She hasn’t talked to Nico in months, and hasn’t talked about him in just as long, but she knows Nia can read her like a book.

The girls had grown up together - been through everything side by side, pinky fingers intertwined with an eternal promise of friendship and understanding. The demise of relationships, friendship group implosions, familial hardships, Nia’s goth phase, the time Poppy wrecked her hair dying it a vibrant cherry-red because her high school crush said Ariana Grande was hot - she still shudders thinking of how her hair glowed red in any direct light for years in the aftermath. Through middle school, high school, college, and all the way up until now, the pair know each other inside out.

So Poppy knows that Nia knows something happened.

Nia knows that Poppy hadn’t been able to go a day without bringing up the Swiss Captain before the summer, and then all of a sudden, she didn’t mention him at all. But she also knows her friend well enough and loves her too much not to have pressed on an open wound.

“It looks insane in here, Pop,” Nia gawks at the set up around her, every corner of the open plan layout of Jack’s large apartment decked out with decor and party amenities. “Do you guys go this hard every year?”

“Depends who’s hosting,” Nico shrugs, knowing when it had been his turn the year before, his event had been much more lowkey. Poppy had seen the pictures, had been sent an abundance of wish you were here snapchats around midnight from the Captain himself. Jack has a thing about his reputation that won’t let him even consider doing anything lowkey. “I forgot this would be your first year coming.”

“Oh, we’re not coming.” Poppy covers her mouth as she speaks around a bite of her food, unable to wait until she’d finished her mouthful due to the immediate urge to shut him down once again.

“You’re not?” He almost sounds disappointed. She doesn’t dare check for the furrow of his thick eyebrows or the pout of his lips. “Jack said he’d convinced you.”

A flash of anxiety shoots across her chest at the thought of him considering her attendance. Had he asked Jack? Had he mentioned her specifically - pushed him to convince her? Or had Jack just brought it up in an offhanded comment?

“I just agreed to get him off my back about it.” Her choice of words is only slightly intended to hurt. She and Nico were no longer friends - she hadn’t been the one to make that decision. Despite that fact, she tries to suppress the guilt clawing at the base of her throat at the wash of understanding that passes over his features. A solemn nod, gaze bouncing to the floor, lips pressed together. “We have plans with our friends.”

“Actually,” Nia’s voice captures both their attention swiftly - Poppy’s head whipping around in subtle alarm and Nico’s in anticipation. “Blake’s flight back from Arizona got cancelled, and Kelsey bailed on me last night because she got Covid of all things over Christmas.”

“What about Emma?” Poppy asks, hoping and praying their hermit friend has all of a sudden grown some stellar social skills and agreed to carry on their tradition for the sake of Poppy’s sanity.

“She double booked with her boyfriend, and he’s a huge drip I don’t really wanna hang out with those two all night.” God damn Emma and her tool of a boyfriend, Poppy thinks. “At least if we come here, we’re still close enough to your place we can make it back for fireworks on the roof.”

“We get a great view of them from this building,” Nico makes his presence known again, attempting to offer a solution. “If you didn’t want to walk back home so late.”

“See, Pop,” Nia claps her hands together with a grin, “We get to come to a cool party, don’t have to worry about creeps following us around all night, and still get to hold on to tradition. Win, win, win if you ask me!”

“Right,” Poppy sighs, knowing now that Nia has her heart set on the plan, there’s nothing she can do about it. Any persistence on her part would be too obvious. “Fine.”

“Awesome! What’s left to do?”

Poppy eyes Nico, knowing she’d told him only a few minutes ago that there was nothing left. “Just need to clear a table for the equipment Jack’s getting,”

“Which one?” Nia asks, making her way over with her iced tea in hand once Poppy points toward the table in the corner by the wall-to-wall window. “Are you helping or just standing around looking pretty?”

Nico’s cheeks flush, a subtle warmth arising to his skin, and he gives a bashful chuckle.

Poppy feels a little nauseous, and it’s not from the sickly sweet half of a pastry she’s just forced down.

Nia’s eyes flicker between the two of them like she’s at a grand slam, and her lips twist to hide a smile.

“I actually need to head out,” he says, gaze darting quickly to Poppy before turning to her best friend, “I have some things I need to do before tonight. It was good to see you, though, Nia.”

Nia hums around the straw of her drink, giving a dismissive wave. “You too, see you later!”

Nico begins towards the door to the apartment, and just before he passes Poppy, he stops. He doesn’t reach for her this time, doesn’t step too close, but she can feel his presence regardless. And every hair on her body stands to attention like she’s been shocked by static when he says, lowly, “I’ll see you tonight, Mohn.”

She can only nod in response, not trusting her voice to speak, not trusting her eyes to look into his and be able to look away.

After he departs, there are a few minutes of an ear-piercing silence. Poppy can hear every movement Nia makes, from the slurp of her drink, to the manner in which she throws things around with little care for where they end up. And louder than anything, she hears the violent thud of her heartbeat in her own ears.

“So,” Nia drags out when Poppy joins her at the almost empty table. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” Poppy and Nia have known each other fifteen years, she doesn’t know why she hopelessly thought that would work.

“Don’t play dumb,” Nia scoffs, “You and Captain Sexy,”

“There is no me and Nico,”

“But you know who I’m asking about,” she scoffs like she’s caught her best friend out, and then adds, with a suggestive wiggle of her brows, “So you do think he’s sexy?”

“What are you, twelve?” Poppy rolls her eyes, “He’s the only captain we’ve been in a room with, pretty obvious who you were referring to.”

“Admit it, Poppy, I saw the two of you when I came in, you totally wanna jump his bones, you have for as long as you’ve known him.”

“We’re not having this conversation, Ni.”

“The hell we aren’t!” Nia grabs her best friend by the shoulders, “I’ve bitten my tongue for months, Pop, watching you mope around and get all glum whenever work is brought up. I couldn’t get you to shut up about the guy before, what the hell happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened!”

“It totally did!” Nia can spy the aversion Poppy is attempting from miles off. “Don’t tell me you two finally hooked up and you didn’t fill me in,”

“He has a girlfriend, Nia.”

The way Poppy says it is like a period to a sentence. End of conversation. End of speculation. It doesn’t matter what they had been before, or what they are now. It doesn’t matter what she feels. There is no her and Nico because he is someone else’s. That’s the crux of it.

“Since when?” Nia frowns.

“Since the summer just gone.”

And there it is. Understanding washes over the face of her best friend, and Poppy has to force herself to look away.

He’d maybe been with her before that, too, but Poppy doesn’t actually know the entire timeline of it.

All she does know is that he’d come back from Switzerland with a drop dead gorgeous model hanging off of his arm, and he no longer had a use for Poppy in his life.

She knows other little bits, that she’d sourced from parts of conversations with others, or potential social media sleuthing that she will never admit to even with a gun to her head.

Talia, a model from somewhere close to home back in Europe, and Nico had hit it off at some festival when he’d gone back to Switzerland for his break. He’d very quickly and very clearly become smitten with her. Poppy had seen as much with her plastered all over his private stories and even posted on his private instagram feed.

By the time he came back to New Jersey for pre-season training camp, she was tagging along to team gatherings, he’d take her on his morning runs, grabbing breakfast together, he’d pick her up every day after work so he could no longer drive Poppy home, not that he’d ever attempted to explain any of that to her. She was at every home game, was his plus one to every event, and Poppy and Nico’s friendship had fizzled out so much that she sometimes feels like the whole thing had been a fantasy, or a figment of her imagination. Something she’d misunderstood, miscalculating every interaction they had ever shared and assuming they meant the same to him as they did to her.

They didn’t.

She doesn’t think any of it would have hurt her so much if he’d have let her down easy. A sorry for bailing on you the first time she’d text him if he wanted to meet up for their weekly run and he’d left her on read would have lessened the blow. He could have been straight up with an I just want to focus on my relationship right now. That would have been the decent thing to do, but he’d just dropped her, instead. Didn’t come around her office for lunch, didn’t text her after training when one of the guys said something stupid and he thought it might make her laugh. He’d cut her off from the intimate parts of his life - ghosted her, even - and all she could find it in herself to do anymore was miss him.

She’d made attempts to bring him around, at first. Tried speaking to him at work, tried texting, but after a few weeks of staring at the delivered sign at the bottom of their message thread, she had given up. It still taunts her every time she opens it up to delete the entire thing and move on like he clearly has - erasing all the inside jokes and times they had confided in one another like they meant ever meant anything in the first place.

She can count on her hand the amount of times they had spoken since the summer. Work related, entirely. A good game here and a have you seen whoever? there. Today is the first indication in months that they had ever been anything more than two people who worked in the same organisation. Friends of friends, co-workers, barely acquaintances.

Not people who know each other’s favourite holidays and are chummy with each other’s friends.

“I’m sorry, Poppy,” Nia frowns, “I didn’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, attempting nonchalance despite the stinging in the back of her throat. “Let’s finish here so we can go get ready.”

Nico

Nico Hischier isn’t the biggest fan of New Years Eve. He isn’t really a fan of the festive period, at all. He isn’t a scrooge by any means. He can appreciate the coming together of people and the celebration of the year just gone, and the one starting fresh - but ever since he moved from Switzerland and started his career in the NHL, the holiday period has felt unnecessarily long.

His schedule is jam packed - games up until the 23rd, starting again after Christmas on the 27th, and again after New Years on the 3rd - and there aren’t enough consecutive days together to celebrate in the way others get to do this time of year.

He knows he has to make do with the fact - a small price to pay for living his dream - and his teammates help, all sharing in their sacrifices and trying to make the best out of a bad deal. But he can’t help but feel a lack. A lack of tradition, a lack of family being around, a lack of normalcy.

He remembers the holidays as a child, spending time at home with his parents and his siblings, having two weeks at home for his winter break and getting to spend his days doing whatever he pleased. As someone who moved overseas at such a young age, he looks back on those times fondly.

But now, living at least 8 hours away from the rest of his family, this time of year only serves to remind him of the isolation that creeps up on him like a bad cold.

It starts at the beginning of the month, the sniffly nose period of the bug, when chatter starts around who’s doing what for Christmas. Decorations go up, parties are planned, names are passed around in a hat for Secret Santa, and discussions begin around who is managing to go where.

Next comes the tickle in his throat - the last game before Christmas, where the team all depart and separate with temporary goodbyes as those who have family nearby all get to go home - their parents arranging home cooked extravaganza meals, reuniting with their siblings, exchanging gifts - and Nico, for the 5th year running, feels like a bit part in someone else’s festivities as he and a few of the other European guys all bustle into the dining room of whoever is willing to accommodate them for the day.

Then comes the rest, the sneezing, the coughing, the lethargy, in the period between Christmas and New Years, when everyone is reeling off the back of their celebrations and looking forward to ringing in the next year with a big party.

Nico had thought this year might have been better. He had been in a relationship, there were parts of the holidays he could tweak and adopt into his circumstances - exchanging gifts with a loved one, bringing her along to Christmas dinner at Jesper and Nicole’s place, and not having to feel like a third wheel or like he had to shrink to fit at the kiddie’s table.

He’d even tried to start his own holiday traditions with Talia, his girlfriend. He’d booked an overnight stay at a fancy hotel on the Upper East Side in the middle in the month on one of the rare occasions he’d had two consecutive days with no game or other commitments - despite how hectic his schedule had been. He’d taken her Christmas shopping down Fifth Avenue like she’d talked so much about how she’d wanted to do ever since she came out to New Jersey with him after the summer. He’d taken her ice skating, away from the Rock so that it didn’t feel like work, they had bought and decorated the tree in his apartment together, he’d brought her along to every team holiday event.

And on the day of their home game against Anaheim on the 17th, just a few days after their trip into Manhattan, in the middle of the third period, she had unceremoniously dumped him with an I’m just not feeling this anymore. Over text. As she was already at the airport preparing to fly back to Munich to spend the holidays with her family. He had slumped into his locker after their brutal 5-1 defeat and couldn’t believe what he was reading.

Nico wanted to be angry. As he read the text, he could picture any other person throwing and smashing things. Calling her up and demanding an explanation - because it was clear she hadn’t been feeling it for longer than she let on, considering she was about to board a no doubt fully booked flight across the Atlantic in the eleventh hour.

But there was too large of a part of him that just felt relieved.

Talia was great.

He had met her properly in the summer when he had gone home to Switzerland, but they’d had mutual friends long before. He’d liked a couple of her instagram pictures here, she had responded to a few of his stories there, and then they had been formally introduced at a friend’s party.

Things with her were easy, at first. Nico wasn’t looking for anything serious, and she had ticked all of the right boxes. She was good company, always down to do whatever he was doing with whoever he wanted to do it with. She recognised that summer was the only time of the year he truly had to himself, and she let him take the reins on how he wanted to spend it.

She would go on hikes with him, would lounge around in the sun if wanted, go to parties, go to festivals, join him on little weekend trips to Ibiza or Mallorca. And she was a great release when his training had picked up. She would work around his schedule. He’d invite her round to his apartment and he had enjoyed spending time doing nothing with her after a long day at the gym or at the rink.

She had slotted so perfectly into that version of his life that he gave very little thought into inviting her into the rest of it.

She was beautiful, sociable, charismatic - and then she became hard work.

When summer was over, and he invited her to spend some time back in New Jersey, she didn’t quite grasp how much things would need to change. She constantly wanted to have plans. Wanted to go to parties, wanted to go out, be around other people, take little trips - and he had tried to accommodate her the best he could, but he didn’t have the time for himself, let alone for another person, to be doing things all the time. He had tried to tell her as much, and she said she was okay with it, said as long as he was present with her, she could settle for not doing the things they had in the summer, but she expected too much from him.

She wanted Nico’s attention at all hours of the day, weaving herself into every aspect of his routine. He wanted to run? She would go with him, could really use the fresh air. He wanted to do some solo training at the gym? She had been meaning to work on her lifting. He couldn’t go to the grocery store - could barely even go to work without her wanting to be there. His phone would blow up whenever they were apart, and if he didn’t text her back straight away, she’d become cold - making him feel guilty and grovel for her forgiveness.

Talia was fun, until she wasn’t. Until she was exhausting, and Nico couldn’t keep up with her any longer.

She didn’t give him the grace to have an off day. He was tired, he was struggling, and when the season kicked into full swing, and the team’s schedule was packed, he became unable to juggle it all.

His work was suffering, his star was dimming, his body ached and his performance dipped - both in his professional and personal life.

And so, after the detonation of their relationship, a break up text felt a little like a wake up call.

Talia had contributed so much to the deterioration of normalcy in his life, that Nico was still trying to piece back together his routine 2 weeks later.

His holiday period this year had been spent in a haze - and it wasn’t for the reason everyone thought. He had caught the pitiful glances sent his way over the dinner table at Christmas, had seen the way the couples in the room tried to spare him of their PDA whenever he was around, and he could have told them it was okay. He was okay. But there was a large part of him that was trying to figure that out, still.

He had known he wasn’t heartbroken. He wasn’t shooting off texts to Talia and begging for her to come back. He’d already boxed up what little belongings she had left behind and was going to ship them internationally after the New Year had passed. He had deleted, not archived, all their photos on his private socials, and had even deleted most of them from his phone. He wasn’t in pieces over the fact she had ended things.

But he knew something still wasn’t right.

At first, he had thought it was work related. Their worst week of the season had happened just before Christmas - 3 losses at home in the span of 5 days - and he thought that could be the reason for his slump. Then, they won against Detroit and he still felt off.

Then, he thought he had been anxious about Christmas - about showing up on his own, having to explain his breakup to everyone not quite caught up on the news yet, and he would have to wallow in that same old feeling of watching everyone else enjoy the holidays. But Jesper and Nicole had thrown together a pretty nice day for the guys. The food was great, the company was great, and he’d gone back to his apartment that night with a feeling of relief - like he’d been dreading something for so long only for him to have genuinely enjoyed himself.

And finally, as if being thrust into a freezing cold ice bath, realisation had washed over him on the morning of the team’s final home game of the year against Columbus.

He had been walking through the back offices of the Prudential Centre when he had stumbled upon a conversation, and had heard Poppy Jensen’s voice for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I’m just kinda beat, to be honest, J,” she had said in response to a question Nico hadn’t caught. He had thought no one would be around, most of the Foundation staff having the week off, and hadn’t expected to come across anyone on his venture to the best vending machine in the building. The Foundation offices were often frequented by kids, and had an assortment of candies throughout their machines instead of the protein bars or rice cakes elsewhere in the staff areas. At the sound of her voice, he had come to an immediate halt, peaking around the corner where he could see into her office. She was moving some things into a box on her desk and Jack Hughes was reclining in the chair in front of it that once had been claimed by Nico as his own. “I’m all social interaction-ed out, the holidays have kinda beat me to a pulp, I don’t think I could keep up with you guys, I’m sorry.”

Nico watches as she swats at his feet when he tries to kick them up onto her desk, and can’t quite see the crease between her brows as she frowns at their mutual friend, but can remember how it used to form all the same. “You’re such a bullshitter,” Jack had scoffed, clearly pre-empting the stapler Poppy would throw at him, managing to catch it with ease.

“You can’t call me a bullshitter in my own office,” she gawked, “You don’t see me marching out onto the ice and calling you an attention whore.”

Jack had thrown the stapler straight back. She caught it all the same, and dropped it into the box.

“You haven’t hung out with us in forever!”

“We hung out at the Toy Drive like 2 weeks ago!” There had been two toy drive events organised by the Foundation in different parts of town, and, as he had long become accustomed to, Nico had been put on the one separate to the event Poppy was working. It had been fun, but when he’d checked the social posts the next day and seen the pictures posted of the other team - all smiles between them, a slightly blurry Poppy in the near background of all of Jack’s pictures to indicate how close they had been throughout the event - he had felt like he’d missed out on something.

“That was work, it doesn’t count, Popsicle.” Nico could hear the roll of Jack’s eyes.

“Yeah, well some of us don’t consider helping underprivileged children and spreading Christmas spirit ‘work’, Jack.” Poppy had used air quotes to emphasise her sarcasm, and a fond warmth had spread throughout Nico’s chest at hearing her hold her own against someone as brazenly wise as Jack Hughes. “I thought we were hanging out, having fun, improving our community together. You should really check your ego!”

“I sh-,” Jack had managed to cut himself off, no doubt realising how loud he had gotten. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding the whole team all year, ‘cause you’re hung up on-,”

The door to Poppy’s office had slammed closed before Nico had a chance to hear the end of his teammate’s sentence. Their voices had been muffled after that, and shame had started to creep up on Nico at the fact he’d been eavesdropping on a private conversation.

He’d foregone the snacks he originally snuck off in search of, and returned back to the locker room to get ready for his practice skate.

For the first time in a long time, when Jack arrived and threw himself down on the bench beside him, Nico had wanted him to bring her up.

In the months prior, he would freeze up at the mention of Poppy Jensen, not wanting to face the reality of his dwindling connection to someone who had once been such a huge part of his life. He had other focuses - namely, Talia - and reflecting on what had once been between the two of them did not serve any kind of good purpose. It opened him up to uncomfortable conversations that he wasn’t willing to have, uncomfortable realisations he couldn’t quite come to terms with, and he had been too comfortable avoiding any kind of confrontation around it.

But in the short time between witnessing the conversation between Jack and Poppy, and getting ready for the team’s morning practice, too many questions had been swirling around his mind, and he needed answers.

Why was Poppy packing up her desk?

Why was she avoiding hanging out with the team?

What was she so hung up on? Had something happened?

He’d spent so long avoiding even thinking about her, that he all of a sudden felt like he’d missed everything.

Luckily for him, Jack Hughes needed little to no prompting for his blabbermouth nature to prevail.

“You know, for someone who’s literal job it is to lead us as a Captain, you’ve done terribly at warning me just how stressful this whole New Years thing is,” Jack had huffed as he began changing into his practice gear.

“I did nothing but warn you,” Nico responded, “You called me Mr Grumpy Pants and told me I was just afraid your party was gonna be better than mine.”

“Yeah, well, you should have insisted, it’s stressing me out.”

“You’ll be fine,” Nico scoffed, running a hand through the mess of his hair and leaning back into his locker. He watched Jack’s jittery movements as he shrugged on his pads, and felt the need to reassure his friend. “Everyone’s looking forward to it. As long as there’s plenty to drink and decent music, people will have a good time.”

“Not everyone,” Jack grumbled, “I can’t even get Poppy to come and she loves parties.”

So that’s what they had been talking about.

Poppy did love parties, but Nico couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her at one.

“Poppy has a New Years ritual, she didn’t come to mine, either, I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it.” Nico shrugged, despite the wave of a memory that washed over him of him doing exactly that when she hadn’t showed up last year. He’d had to restrain himself from leaving his own party - spent the night texting her updates on what everyone had been doing, snap-chatting her pictures in the hopes it would entice her the few blocks over from her apartment building. He’d only been consoled by the text he’d received just after the clock had struck midnight, settling for the pride in knowing he had been one of the first to get a Happy New Years message from her - knowing it wasn’t just a mass text she would have copy-and-pasted to everyone else, and had been personalised to him with a bunch of perfectly curated emojis and exclamation marks after his name.

Nico didn’t see Jack’s stiffened posture at the way he had so nonchalantly mentioned her for the first time in forever. Didn’t see the side eye, or the pensive twist of his mouth as he carefully considered his next words like he was about to step through a minefield.

“I’m gonna keep trying,” he had sat back down on the bench beside Nico to put on his skates, “I’m definitely her favourite, she’s been helping me organise the whole thing, I don’t think it will take much to convince her.”

Nico tried not to show any kind of reaction to Jack being Poppy’s favourite, or at the thought of how much time they must be spending together to organise such an event. A part of him knew he was only saying it to rattle him. “Cutting it a little fine, aren’t you? New Years is in a couple days, and the guys from the Foundation aren’t even around this week, are they?”

“She’s covering someone on content until January, I said I’d drive her home after the game and me and Lukey can double down on it. And if we can’t get it done tonight, she’s coming on the road with us at the end of the week. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Oh,” Nico was thankful for how Jack had leaned over to tie his skates up, because he wasn’t entirely sure he’d been able to mask whatever had flooded over him at the revelation that his teammate would be driving Poppy home.

That was his thing. He was pretty sure his passenger seat was still positioned to her liking despite how long it had been since she’d sat in it. He was still working his way through the stash of smiley face air fresheners she had stashed in his glove compartment. He still felt like he was forgetting something every time he left the parking lot and she wasn’t sat beside him, chatting his ear off about some of the kids she had worked with in the day.

“Maybe you should ask her?”

Nico’s eyes shot over to meet Jack’s in alarm. “Me?”

“Yeah, the more people that ask, the more she might feel like she’s missing out. Flash her those cute dimples, how could she possibly say no?”

“I think I’m the last person that’s gonna convince Poppy to come, Jack.” Nico had tried to be nonchalant about it, but he had come across so painfully uncomfortable that he could feel the hair on his arms stand, not liking the ache that spread through his chest at the statement.

There was once upon a time that cheering Poppy Jensen up had been a large part of his routine. Even small acts, like bringing her a coffee on a busy day, where he knew she wouldn’t take a break to go get one herself, and knew how much she disliked the stuff from the pot in her office. Sending her texts from across the room when there were big organisation meetings and he could see her chewing at her fingernails at the vast amounts of information being spewed about. Tagging her in cute animal videos he’d come across on TikTok when he was across the country on a roadie and on a different timezone - she’d wake up to them sometimes, and he’d wake up to her response.

“Right, I forgot you two aren’t friends anymore.”

“Is that what she said?” Nico had swallowed down the hurt at the thought of her coming to that conclusion - vocalising it to someone and finalising the decision before he had any chance to do anything about it.

He couldn’t really blame her, though - he’d had plenty of chances.

Nico could feel himself beginning to spiral, words swirling around his head like a tornado of realisation and guilt.

Aren’t friends anymore.

Avoiding the whole team all year.

Jack is driving her home.

He’s her favourite.

Aren’t friends anymore.

Shit.

He didn’t even take in Jack’s response to his question. As much as he wanted to know the answer, he couldn’t bear to hear it.

Nico couldn’t face up to what he had truly lost.

It wasn’t his girlfriend of five months, who had dumped him over text during the most wonderful time of the year. It wasn’t a few games, that, sure, it had sucked that they had been beat, but in retrospect, the team had had a pretty decent start to the season, and shouldn’t have had his back up that much.

Nico had lost someone who had, at one point, been the most important person in his life.

The person he would usually have gone to to help him through the other stuff - the breakups, the losses, the stress, the anxiety - the crushing weight that had been pressing down on his chest since he had left for Switzerland at the beginning of summer.

Nico and Poppy used to work around each other like a beautifully choreographed, well-rehearsed dance. She always knew when he was overwhelmed or exhausted, he always knew when she was stressed or upset, and they both knew how to pick the other back up.

They hadn’t even fallen out of sync when they’d stopped talking to each other, only this time, they were moving around each other. If Nico entered a room, Poppy would leave. If she knew he was going to be at a team party, she’d make up an excuse not to go. If someone mentioned Poppy in casual conversation, Nico would quickly change the subject. All of it had been subconscious, on his part, at least.

It had been so easy after such a prolonged distance between the two of them to move when she pushed, to watch when she ran, like he had grown into his part in their relationship akin to repelling magnets, always moving away from one another.

It had been so easy that he hadn’t even really realised what was happening - lost and handicapped by a thick fog clouding his thoughts and his judgement. He’d let their once blooming friendship wither and die, and for what?

As he had watched Jack waddle out of the locker room for their practice session, muttering a dismissive, “Whatever, I’ll figure it out,” to his Captain, it was like he had been awakened into full consciousness.

Nico had thought that his turmoil had started with the holiday period. Had thought the ache of homesickness had swirled in with the grief that came with the loss of his relationship, and the shame his poor performances on the ice had thrown upon him. But it had started long before that. He hadn’t been himself since he’d returned from his summer break. Before that, even.

Without realising that he had lost her, Nico had spent the last few months subconsciously mourning his friendship with Poppy - the crushing weight of that grief consuming him to a point that he felt lost with no way out, and had expressed it in a bunch of misguided ways.

He reached into his bag to retrieve where he had stashed his cellphone, scrolling through his Messages app until he stumbled across Poppy’s name. The last text had been sent in September, by her, and he had never responded - had never even opened it, the blue dot to the left of their message thread taunting him with chirps of how awful he had been to ignore it.

Poppy: Hey, can we talk? I miss you.

How late is too late to reply to a text like that? He could only hope she still felt the same way.

Turns out, 4 months might be too late.

Nico has drafted an embarrassing amount of messages to Poppy over the days since that conversation in the locker room.

His notes app has a whole folder dedicated to her. Bullet pointed lists, random memories that made him think of her, structured essays that laid out a timeline of their friendship, and all the mistakes he would need to beg for her forgiveness for.

He’d tried sending a message when he had got back to his apartment after the game against Columbus, feeling a rush of confidence from the adrenaline of their OT win, his high had soon dwindled when he was alone. He sat staring at all the different iterations of an apology he could offer, and had even chickened out of the final draft of a very simple but hopefully effective, ‘Hey.’

He knew he was overthinking it. A conversation starter would at the very least open the door for the apology, and all he needed to do was talk to her in some way - but that turned out to be easier said than done.

She wasn’t in her office when he’d gone to seek her out at work the next day, and when he realised she was probably in the content and media offices, he felt like he would be cornering her if he sought her out in front of anyone else. When the weight of how far removed they now were from each other’s lives dawned on him, a text felt too informal, and so the paragraphs sat untouched in his notes. The weather hadn’t been too great, so he couldn’t try and intercept her on the running route he knew all too well, and even attempting to orchestrate a seemingly random encounter outside of work seemed too creepy so stopping by the cafe around the corner from her apartment in the hopes she’d be there grabbing a latte was off the cards.

He’d seen her on the plane to Ottawa, having to pass her seat to get to the team section at the back, but he had a few people boarding behind him, and she had her eyes cast toward her cell, headphones on and typing intently to somebody, he couldn’t even offer her a friendly smile to try and warm her up to the possibility of a conversation.

Between their win against the Senators, and their loss against the Bruins the next day, there wasn’t much time, or energy, really, to seek her out, and so he’d had to press the breaks, but as they flew back to New Jersey from Boston, a panic had started to swirl within his chest.

Nico knew he couldn’t enter a new year without clearing the air, and so time was well and truly running out. He again had seen her on the plane, and when he had plucked up the courage to get up and go sit with her, Jack had beaten him to it. When the plane had landed, and the team bus had driven them all back to the Rock, the Hughes brothers had both walked her to her car to see her off for the evening.

For someone who had been not-so-subtly trying to initiate a reunion between Nico and Poppy for so long, Jack Hughes sure knew how to get in the way. But, he was easy to forgive - especially when Nico had woken up to his texts late this morning.

Jack: need ur help

Jack: urgently

Jack: wake up dude

Nico: I’m not driving anywhere for you

Jack: not asking u to

Jack: u will like this I promise 😌

Nico: what do you want?

Jack: need u to keep Poppy company

Jack: she’s in my apartment and she seemed off when she got here

Jack: been on her own for a few hours

Jack: so she’s grumpy 👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻 👹👹

Nico: doubt I can change the grumpy part

Nico: especially if you’ve left her alone for hours

Jack: don’t need to

Jack: ur a grump too

Jack: will cancel each other out 👍🏻👍🏻😇😇

Jack: u going down or no?

Nico: fine

Jack: I’ll be back in 1 hr :)

Jack: love u cap 😚

Nico: 🙄

And that was how Nico had found himself trudging down to Jack’s apartment, hopeful at the dream of a bridged gap between him and Poppy, and quickly disappointed by the reality.

She had been cold, rightfully so, and had made it clear as day she didn’t want anything to do with him. She had shrunk into herself, backing away from him any time he got too close, defecting to a state of avoidance - gaze dropping to the floor, declining his offers to help her, making assumptions she was in his way, as if the thought of him seeking her out had become an entirely alien concept.

He couldn’t blame her for how she was being with him. It had been his fault things had collapsed between them - he’d come to that conclusion with the vast amounts of evidence piled up in his phone storage the past couple of days, but it didn’t make it hurt any less to see her like this - or to feel an actual, tangible resistance when he had tried to insist on being around. She didn’t want him around, that much was obvious, and it was starting to feel like it was to late to fix what he had so royally screwed up between the two of them.

The once well-oiled machine that was their friendship was now clunky, clattering, dying a slow death with parts that were now obsolete.

But that didn’t change how much he wanted it to work. His parents had once told him when he was growing up that nothing was beyond repair, and if he wanted something fixed enough, he would figure out a way.

They had been talking about a model train he, his father and his brother had made when he was very young. The company that made the sets had gone bust, and they no longer sold the individual parts anymore - so when his sister had stumbled over something in the garage back home, knocked a box, and the once pristine collectable train had tumbled out and ended up cracked and chipped, he had been heartbroken. He and Nina had filled in the chips with wood filler, and touched it up with her nail polish, and it wasn’t the same but in a way it was better - a new sentiment attached with a memory of bonding with his sibling.

The same thing could apply to his friendship with Poppy. Maybe they couldn’t go back to what they were - maybe they could be better.

And, when Poppy had made one too many attempts to push him away - when he had taken a hold of her after she had tried to move past him, dismissing him and his desire to help her, once again - a fire reignited within him. A spark of hope flickered at the familiarity that had flashed across her face as he referred to her in an endearment he hadn’t let himself use in so long.

In that moment - hand wrapped around her arm, just above her elbow, the skin soft and warm, close enough to smell the all too familiar cloud of vanilla-coconut scent that followed her, and her eyes locked on his - he had seen a crack in her armour.

He had seen an element of want - wanting to reconcile, wanting to fix things, wanting him in her life in the way he had been those months ago - and in a mirror of his own emotions, he had seen trepidation.

They wanted the same things, had the same fears, had the same end goal.

And when the unforeseen interruption of her best friend arriving startled her back into her withdrawn persona, he had realised something else.

Nia’s contrasting attitude toward Nico - open, friendly, familiar - had opened his eyes to the fact that Poppy hadn’t told her best friend about the demise of her friendship with Nico.

And that, as much as it needed unpacking entirely, was Nico’s backdoor entry into the high security vault of Poppy’s good graces.

Thankfully for him, Nia’s obliviousness to their tension had worked entirely in his favour. He tried not to look too much into Poppy’s attempted avoidance of spending the evening in his presence, despite her other plans falling apart. Tried to shoulder the blows of her sly digs at them not being friends anymore. Tried to ignore the pang in his heart at Poppy’s best friend being the one to throw flirty jibes his way, and not her.

A determination had begun to brew within him - swirling, bubbling, steaming - and it was going to push him to finally bridge the gap he had forced between them.

His first success was her agreeing to come to the party, and he could easily build on that momentum.

Nico and Poppy were going to be friends again by midnight, he would figure out a way.

> Chapter One

#nico hischier #Nico Hischier x reader #Nico Hischier fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #Nico Hischier imagine #anyways #if you do by happenstance read all these tags #we need to have a conversation about people as colours #I would have ranted about this in my an but honestly I think I went on enough #nico is green I won't budge on this because I am also green and he is mine #like if your fav colour is green you know what I mean it becomes your entire existence #but also every time I write him in an outfit its like khaki olive vibes #he's just an earthy toned fella #no one can change my mind #I call this phenomenon hot guy synesthesia I'm writing a thesis on it you've just read it #anyways I'm gonna publish this and run for the hills #*writing #*oys

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year ago

Text

With Discretion - Holiday Special**

Here it is! I hope you guys like it. I really like how I ended this series and I hope you guys do too. Thanks for reading!

Read the rest of the “With Discretion” series

WARNINGS: miscommunication/avoidance of issues, fear of commitment and doubt in relationships/partners, 69, face fucking and sitting, fingering, forced and multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, size kink, marking.

WC: 15.2k

Harry had been on a high for the near year you two had been together. Business was excellent, his firm was doing great and he had been able to unfold that deal with the schools in the area and the pilot of the internship program was doing really well. Of course, things with you had been a fucking dream. You were both thriving in your individual endeavors and of course, as a couple. The more time you spent together the more he thought about marriage. He’d always wanted to get married but of course, he was cautious with his love life and its future, but now the future he wanted felt far more tangible. You were everything he had wanted in a life partner. He was anxious to bring it up to you because inevitably, the question would be asked by both of your families about where you two saw this relationship going. Especially as the holidays approached.

He was thinking on this even more since your parents were coming to visit from California and it would be the first time he officially met them in the flesh. It goes without saying that Harry was absolutely nervous about it but he was looking forward to meeting them and spending time with them. He knew that they weren’t all that supportive of your marriage to Caleb, so he wanted to make the best impression possible so that they didn’t have a shred of doubt about what a future with him could mean for you. He had been there for a few conversations with your mom about how disappointed she was at the outcome of your marriage, she wasn’t condescending about it, but like any parent who felt they knew best from the start, she couldn’t help but hit you with that dreaded “I told you so” a couple times. The next time she said something like that to you, he wanted it to be under good circumstances, like your wedding day perhaps when he inevitably cried at the altar because of how breathtaking you’d look. His little daydream was interrupted by his office phone ringing.

“Mr. Styles, reception called, Y/n just arrived.” His new assistant, Corey, informed him over the line.

“Great! Thanks mate. Can you inform reception that I’ll be just a few minutes?” He assured and Corey confirmed before hanging up. He shot you a quick text to let you know that he’d be out soon. You were going to a late lunch and then doing some Christmas shopping, so his Friday would be ending early and he couldn’t be more thrilled to kick off his weekend plans with you.

*********

You were sitting in the reception area just looking through your phone while you waited for Harry to come down. You were quite enraptured with an email on your phone that you didn’t notice that Caleb was approaching you until he called your name.

“Y/N!” He greeted cheerfully and you glanced up from your phone to see him smiling down at you.

“Oh my god! Hi Cal, how are you?” You asked as you shot up from your seat and hugged him tight as he hugged you back.

“I’ve been doing well.” He smiled.

“I can see that! You look great.” You complimented him. He looked a lot more fit and well kept than the last time you had seen him, he had been struggling quite a bit then.

“Thanks, you too.” He smiled, “So things are still going well with Harry.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, actually.”

“What’re you going on a year now?” He asked.

“Yeah, in the new year. It’s crazy how time flies.” You said with a smile and he nodded. “What about you? Did ummm, did anything ever pan out with you and Dani?” You asked and Cal sighed.

“Well, kind of. I ummm, I had a trip to London for the firm several months ago. Obviously, I saw her there…we spent the night together. I think she was just feeling a bit homesick and was seeking some familiarity, you know?” He said and you nodded in understanding, “But ummm, obviously she lives there now and we talked a few times after that but it was mostly just good for closure. I ummm, I did start dating again though. I feel good about it, I’ve had a few successful connections, so ummm, yeah it’s been going well.” He shared.

“That’s great, Cal. I’m really happy for you. I’m glad you were able to move on. I know it can be hard.”

“Was it hard for you?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure?” He grinned and you chuckled.

“Yeah! But see I started moving on when I realized that you were seeing someone else. So by the time we were over-over it was a bit easier for me to get with someone new.” You explained.

“Ah…the slow fade.” He hummed.

“Exactly.” You chuckled.

“So what brings you in?”

“Just having a late lunch with Harry and then we’re doing some Christmas shopping. My parents are coming into town for the holidays so just trying to find something nice for them.”

“Great, that’s really great.” He hummed and you nodded. “And business is going well?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s excellent with that. I had to hire a helper actually, just to give you an idea of how things are going.”

“Wow, congrats!”

“Thank you so much. It’s been tricky at times to meet the demand but I’m getting there.” You smiled.

Just then the elevator dinged and you both glanced over to see Harry stepping out with a cheerful smile upon seeing you standing there. Harry and Cal were on good terms, it did take a few weeks for Cal to get used to Harry dating his ex-wife, but when the weirdness faded they were back to their cool and professional relationship without a hitch. Harry had always been a bit of the jealous type, but he knew that Cal wasn’t a threat to him, so his presence did not deter his excitement to see you in any way.

“Hey, baby!” He greeted you happily and Cal moved aside as Harry hugged you and kissed your cheek quickly.

“Hi.” You responded with a big smile.

“Just catching up?” He asked looking between you and Cal and you both nodded.

“Yep, she’s telling me how she’s basically becoming this event planning tycoon.” Cal said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, the business is growing fast.”

“Maybe we can even hire her for some of the office events or shindigs for clients.” He suggested and Harry’s eyebrows arched up.

“That’s actually quite a brilliant idea, Cal. We just might have to…” Harry hummed with a smile at you and you shook your head.

“You guys are crazy.” You chuckled and they smiled at each other.

“Well, I uh, I need to be getting back up there.” Cal said, “But it was nice running into you. I’m happy things are going well, Y/N.” Cal said and you nodded.

“Yeah, it was great to see you. And I’m also glad to hear you’re doing well, Cal. See you around.” You smiled.

“Later, Cal.” Harry said with a smile and Caleb waved once more before he hurried into the elevator before the doors closed. “Was that alright? Seeing him?” Harry asked as soon as he was gone and you nodded.

“Yeah, we were just catching up. Are you good? That wasn’t weird for you?”

“Not at all. We’re on good terms here as well.” Harry assured and you smiled.

“Good. Now, where are we eating?”

“I managed to get a last minute reservation at Carbone, know you’ve been dying to get more of that mushroom fettuccine.” He said with a smile.

“Ooh, yes! Yummm!” You said with excitement and headed off.

Your lunch had been delicious, as you expected, and your shopping was also going really well. It had been very productive thus far since you had managed to secure the gift you wanted for your mom with ease. You’d also found something for Cece and Harry had managed to find something for Corey, his assistant. Corey had been recommended by Tamika when she put in her 2 weeks. She had been accepted to USC and from what you and Harry had heard last, she was kicking ass over there. But Corey had some big shoes to fill and he was doing an exceptional job, so Harry wanted to get him something to say thank you, even if it was as simple as a keyboard for his iPad. He could use it for school, it would come in handy for his note taking in his classes. Now you just needed to get your dad his gift. He had been wanting some cufflinks that matched with this tie clip that he had been gifted for his birthday a few years prior and after your mom had sent a picture, you were eager to find something that paired well with the help of some experts.

“Let’s go in here, this is the jeweler my client recommended.” You said to Harry who nodded and opened up the door for you to get inside and out of the cold New York air. You were greeted warmly and asked if you needed help with anything the second you got inside the store. “I actually do need help, need to see about some cufflinks.” You said to the man and he nodded and guided you both over to one of the cases across the store.

“Felicity will be able to help you with that. She’ll be with you in a moment.” The man assured and then excused himself.

“You alright here, baby?” He asked you and you nodded, “OK, gonna wander around, see if I can get my mum anything while we’re here.” Harry said.

“OK.” You smiled and let him go off. Moments later you were joined by the saleswoman and consultant, Felicity. You were able to show her the picture your mom had sent and she lit up assuring you that she had several options to show you for your dad.

“Some of the pieces are actually part of the new inventory which we haven’t quite finished unpacking for display.” She explained, “I’m gonna go locate them back there OK? In the meantime feel free to just look around, I’ll come find you when I have the selection ready for you to look over.”

“Thank you so much, Felicity.” You smiled at the older woman and she gave you a friendly smile before disappearing to the back of the store. You turned around and darted your eyes around until you found Harry at a display case at the end of the store furthest from you. You made your way over quietly, but he seemed to notice your presence nearing him as he turned when you were just a few feet from him. “What you looking at there?” You asked as you came up to the case.

“Rings.” He said softly and you peered down at the glimmering accessories displayed beautifully beneath the spotless glass panel. You couldn’t help but notice that these were specifically engagement rings as the regular accessory rings were in the next case over from what you could see as you glanced to your right briefly. “That one’s nice, no?” He asked you as he nodded towards the case.

“Which one?”

“Second row, fifth one in.” He said and you searched and nodded.

“It looks vintage-y, that’s what I like about it. Don’t love that cut though.” You said.

“The princess cut?” He asked and you nodded.

“S’too boxy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He hummed.

“The one two rows beneath it is gorgeous.” You mused and he smiled.

“The oval one in gold?” He asked and you nodded and hummed in confirmation, “Yeah, quite like that one actually. It’s very nice.” He mused as he looked it over.

“Would you like to inspect any of the rings more closely or try anything on?” Suddenly one of the salespersons appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“Oh n-”

“Yes, please.” Harry’s voice slightly overpowered yours before he turned and smiled at you briefly before turning back to the clerk and pointing at the one you had said you liked. The man was careful as he removed it from the back velvet setting it was in and reached for the magnifying glass that was peeking out of the front pocket of his suit jacket.

“This is a fine choice. The main stone is 3 carats, ethically sourced, and it has wonderful clarity.” He said as he positioned the magnifying glass over the ring’s main stone, “Have a look.” He insisted and you both peered over. It looked like you were staring into a hall of a million mirrors, it was absolutely beautiful. “You don’t see too many engagement rings set in gold now a days, but it is making a come back. It gives them a generational kind of feel, I think. Like a priceless family heirloom.” He smiled at the two of you.

“Yeah.” You hummed in agreement with a smile before glancing up to the man.

“Would you like to try it on?” He asked and you glanced to Harry who smiled at you and shrugged, indicating that it was up to you. It was just so pretty that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try it on. Cal insisted that you keep your rings from your engagement and marriage, but you didn’t wear them anymore, they were in a safe in your apartment. But you had been wearing two rings for seven years and you did feel naked without them for the first few months after you agreed to divorce, but now it was fine. But a part of you missed having them on so you agreed.

“Sure.” You accepted happily. Cal hadn’t consulted with you on which ring he’d get you when he proposed. You still liked it, it just wasn’t something you would’ve chosen for yourself, unlike this ring, this ring was right in your wheelhouse.

“It helps a lot to see the different cuts on yourself. That way you know which ones flatter you most when the time comes to choose “the one”, you know?” He said as he extended his hand towards yours and you handed over your right hand without much thought.

“There’s only one “the one” ring. One ring to rule them all…” you said lowly as you glanced back at Harry knowingly as you quoted “Lord of the Rings” with a grin and Harry sputtered on a laugh and the salesman did as well.

“You’re a complete dork.” Harry murmured before kissing the side of your head, “S’one of the reasons I love you, though.”

“Pardon, but wrong hand, miss.” the salesman said and your eyebrows arched up before you and Harry chuckled.

“Right! Don’t know why I’m so nervous.” You chuckled in a bit of embarrassment as you handed over your left hand and Harry’s warm hand rubbed over your lower back a few times reassuringly.

“It can be nerve-wracking, it’s a big step getting engaged.” The man said and you hummed. Obviously, you and Harry were not getting engaged any time soon. You hadn’t even properly talked about marriage like that yet, this was just for fun…right? Suddenly the man gasped and you turned to him, “Would you look at that?” he mused in wonder, his bright eyes met with yours, “It’s like it was made for you. It even fits perfectly.” He pointed out with glee, “And the cut is very flattering on your hand. It looks very beautiful on you. You have good instincts for this.” He smiled up at you and you just chuckled bashfully. “What do you think, sir?” He asked Harry and you glanced back to him as well.

“I agree, I love it on you.” He smiled solely at you and you smiled back at him as your stomach did an unsettling flip that you couldn’t really focus on when the man spoke up again.

“Are you interested in seeing any other options similar to this one? We can find similar ones with different budgetary limits as well if you have a price point in mind? Or have you got any ideas for other styles or cuts you’d like to see? Maybe even see what wedding bands can match with the engagement ring?”

“Sorry, we’re actually just here to buy some cufflinks for my girlfriend’s father.” Harry explained, “We got a bit sidetracked over here. The rings are just so shiny and beautiful, it’s impossible not to come have a look at them more closely.” He said with a smile and the man hummed with a smile.

“Oh, I understand, could stand around here all day marveling. I’m sorry to have assumed. You are a lovely couple though. Maybe sometime in the future.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Harry smiled, “Thank you though.”

“Let me give this back to you.” You said as you extended your hand out again and he chuckled.

“Of course, miss.” He said and carefully slipped the ring off of your finger, “Well in the future if you are taking things to the next level feel free to make an appointment with me, my name’s Dan. I’m the senior consultant specializing in engagement rings and wedding bands.” He explained as he set the ring back in it’s spot under the glass. “We do very thorough consultations for engagement rings if you so choose to buy with us.” He said as he extended his card to you, again he seemingly pulled it out of thin air.

“Thank you.” Harry hummed with a smile as he took it and slipped it into his pant pocket.

“My pleasure. I hope you find everything to your satisfaction.” Dan smiled before hurrying off to help another customer a few cases down.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking now?” Harry asked with a smile as you turned to him. The excitement and expectation in his eyes made your stomach start to flip for your heart rate to skyrocket.

“Ummm that Dan’s a magician? I mean he literally just conjured himself!” You said and Harry was silent for a few seconds before he knocked his head back in laughter.

“OK, right!?” He gasped and you giggled and nodded, “Like where the fuck did the business card come from? I was looking at him the entire time he was taking the ring off of you! Didn’t see him reach down into his pockets or anything once!” Harry told you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Maybe he was a magician before he became an engagement ring consultant?”

“Like a serious one in Vegas or like for kid’s parties?” Harry asked and your eyebrows furrowed.

“All magicians are serious magicians, Harry.” You said to him in mock offense and he chuckled.

“Oh, alright well thanks for that tidbit.” He grinned.

“You’re welcome. Can’t go insulting magical careers based on the population they cater to, you muggle.” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, excuse me…” he said sarcastically.

“I’m serious! A pediatric doctor is no less serious because they cater to children specifically, are they?” You questioned him and he smiled.

“You’re very right actually…” he pondered and you giggled, “And you’re also a very serious nuisance.” He said softly and you laughed and hugged him tight before leaning your head against his chest. You could hear his heart pounding intensely in it’s confines and it made you draw back from him as that nervous feeling started to swirl in your tummy again and caused you to feel a bit sick. It scared you that it was mostly a bad feeling, it wasn’t just nerves like you hoped when it first happened. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked you when he saw your smile fade away.

“Oh, just my stomach suddenly hurt.” You explained and he sighed.

“Did you forget your Lactaid pill? That fettuccine you had is drowned in cream sauce.” He said quietly and you sniggered.

“No, I didn’t forget it.” You assured through a giggle. “It’s gone now, I’m alright.” You said and he looked at you skeptically.

“You sure? We can just head home once you get the cufflinks if you’re not feeling well.” He suggested. You did have the rest of the day planned out. Harry had a few rental properties around town and you would be spending the night at one of the empty ones after dinner and visiting a comedy club with a few of his friends later tonight.

“I’m sure.” You smiled and he nodded. Just then Felicity called your name from behind the counter and you turned to her to see she had brought out a velvet cushion with at least a dozen cufflinks for you to look at, “Oh, look at these! Help me pick something, H.” You said to him and he nodded as he came closer to you and rested his hands at your hips as he peered over you, half-listening to what Felicity was saying to you.

He couldn’t help it as he glanced past the cushion of cufflinks and right down at that ring you’d tried on. Dan hadn’t just been buttering you up for a potential sale when he said it was practically made for you, it really did look amazing on you. But then you got a little weird…when he’d asked you if you were thinking what he was thinking about and you deflected and started mucking about over Dan. So he quickly rejected any feelings of disappointment at your lack of seriousness over what he was trying to bring up to you and just bounced back with another playful comment about fucking Dan and his sleight of hand. It was odd to him because you two were obviously in love and your relationship was going incredibly well. But your reaction made him wonder if perhaps he was taking your future together more seriously than you were. It put an annoying and anxious weight over his chest that he had never felt with you before and it made him upset and a bit scared. He wanted to address it immediately but given your reaction to the implied situation and topic at hand he didn’t expect that you’d want to discuss it any time soon. So Harry did the one thing he knew wasn’t correct and ignored that nagging ache in his heart and just warded off all of the thoughts and things that were currently bothering him about this and focused on the task at hand, the cufflinks.

*************

“God, Cece it was absolutely mortifying!” You groaned with a frown before you just rolled over and buried your face in your pillow. Cece laughed from beside you and you pouted as you took a peek at her. “Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s just really funny actually.” She giggled and you groaned.

It had been a couple days since the ring incident at the jeweler and things had gotten a bit weird between you and Harry. Or maybe you just felt they had been weird after? You guys stuck to your plans with his friends and all but something just felt off to you. You had planned to spend the weekend together in the city, but the following day Harry said he had a work emergency come up and cancelled the rest of your plans at the last moment leaving you to have breakfast alone before you headed back to the suburbs on your own. He hadn’t been cold per se, but you knew Harry well and something had been a bit off after Friday. He barely got in touch with you for the rest of the day on Saturday, he only checked in to ensure you’d made it home safe. And now it was Sunday and all you’d gotten from him today so far was a “Have a good day” text. You had asked him how his work thing had gone and if he would be back in the area for dinner but he left you on read and that’s when you called Cece and she immediately came over.

“It’s not! Like I just…I freaked out, you know? Like I thought we were just messing around not…like…ughhh.” You groaned again in frustration and Cece sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Do you really think he’s upset at you over that?” She asked you and you shrugged.

“I don’t know, but that’s the only thing that like…that stands out from our normal interactions and conversations so I’m pretty sure.”

“Just ask him!” Cece advised with some irritation at your obstinance. “It’s that fucking simple.”

“No! What if it’s just a work or family thing and I’m just jumping to conclusions?” You asked her.

“Well you never know until you ask…” Cece said again and you sighed and glanced up to the ceiling. “And even if he’s not upset at that, clearly something about that is weighing on you. So what is that about for you? Like are you not sure of a future with Harry? Like maybe you’re concerned that he’s at a different level than you are in the relationship?” She fed a few ideas hoping you’d resonate with something and bite.

“It’s just that…like I’ve only been divorced a year, you know?” You said and Cece nodded, “I love Harry, so much! I need him like the air I breathe but I just…” you paused, “Things are just really great now, you know? What if…” you trailed off as your eyes welled up with tears, “What if marriage changes things between us, you know?” You asked in a small voice, “Like obviously I jumped into things with Cal so quickly…I didn’t take my time to make such a big decision, we were also together about a year before he proposed and look how that ended! I don’t want to do the same thing with Harry and have it all go to shit!” You were crying now and Cece frowned and just tutted and pulled you into her chest as you cried, “I can’t lose him, Cece. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I can’t.” You sobbed.

“Oh babe…” she hummed quietly as she gently scratched at your head. “I know that the future can be scary, but what you have with Harry is not what you had with Cal. He’s a different person, it’s a different relationship. And you’re a different person too, babe. You were fucking 23 when you started dating Cal, you were half kid, half grown up! You had just moved out of your parents’ house, you hardly had any life experience…” she reminded you, “Things are very different for you now. You’re more mature now so you’re going to have the right amount of doubt and ask the right questions. And I know you won’t be victim to the rose colored glasses of your relationship with Harry this time around.” She pointed out and you sighed as you pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“One would fucking hope…” you sighed and she smiled at you with sympathy, “I know that maybe I didn’t love Cal anymore by the time we divorced but it still took a toll, you know?” You explained and she nodded.

“Of course, babe. It’s a lot to go through.” She said and you nodded, “D-do you feel like maybe you rushed into this relationship with Harry?” Cece asked you and you sighed.

“I don’t even know anymore! Like at the time it didn’t feel that way…we just have so much chemistry and it was so easy, you know? Like was I on an oxytocin high from being with him that I just said yes to him?” You asked and Cece frowned.

“Did you feel any hesitation when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Cece asked and you shook your head. “So the doubt is new then.” She said and you frowned.

“It’s not doubt…I mean I know he’s the one for me! It’s just…I’m scared.” You admitted with a small voice, “I’m scared that…that I’m repeating history.”

“Would you want to marry him if he asked?”

“Of course! I’d just need to have a talk with him about it to ensure that what happened with Cal doesn’t happen again. Like we haven’t even talked about that yet and next thing I know I’m trying on an engagement ring! It was just a lot…”

“Well maybe that’s what he was trying to do after? Not necessarily talk about when you’d get engaged or even a timeline. Maybe he just wanted to see if you were thinking similarly about what you saw for your future together?” She suggested, “Then you went and made a joke of it and well…I can see how that might possibly hurt his feelings or just make him pull back a bit to gain some perspective about where you two truly stand, you know?” Cece said and you sighed as those pieces started fitting together into a picture. A picture where you were the unserious asshole and he was just the lovely man that he’s always been.

“God, I am the worst…” you groaned.

“No you’re not, Y/N. You’re still healing from before. Now, that doesn’t mean that you jumped the gun with Harry. It just means that your last marriage was shit and obviously you’re going to be a bit more apprehensive when the topic comes up this time around.” She comforted you with a soft and caring smile.

“Thanks.” You sniffled and she nodded.

“Now, if I were you I’d try to talk to Harry about this as soon as possible just to clear the air. Just ask and if it’s not anything to do with that or with you then at least you’ve done some of the soul searching so that if it ever comes up again you don’t deflect by calling him a muggle.” She said playfully and you shrieked and covered your face with your hands.

“So embarrassing!” You wailed as Cece just laughed.

**********

You had texted Harry and told him that you needed to talk to him when he was next available. You waited about an hour before he responded and said that he also needed to talk to you about something and that he could come to yours in the evening and you agreed. After that response your afternoon with Cece was just riddled with anxiety; she tried to talk you down, but you were a wreck and convinced yourself that Harry was just coming over to dump you in person. She had left you about fifteen minutes before he was due at yours. You had taken a CBD gummy to calm your nerves and even had a quick, warm body shower to help expel some tension, but the erratic beating of your heart was just too much for you to control. When your doorbell rang, signaling Harry’s arrival, you took slow deep breaths as you made your way across your apartment and finally unlocked the door.

“Hey, come in.” You said with a small and nervous smile and he thanked you quietly as he stepped inside.

He immediately got to toeing off his shoes and you just hurried over to the living room area while he finished up. When Harry finally made his way over he saw you staring at him anxiously and it put an awful feeling in his stomach. Maybe you were going to break up with him for the way he had been acting the last couple days. He hadn’t meant to shut down and pull away like that after the incident at the jeweler, but he was suddenly faced with the harsh reality that maybe you both were on completely different pages about your relationship and where you wanted it to go eventually. He knew that the mere act of withdrawing from someone who loves and trusts you instead of communicating openly and honestly can just drive an irreparable wedge between two people and he hoped to the high heavens that he hadn’t done that.

“Ummm, can I sit?” He asked as he pointed to the spot beside you and you nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You assured him and he sat down but angled his body towards yours and then you moved around to do the same. You were criss-crossed and looking down at the heart-patterned fuzzy socks on your feet for a moment before he decided to break the silence.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” He asked nervously and you bit your lip.

“I’m ummm, still gathering my thoughts a bit. You can go first if you know what you want to say.” You offered and he nodded. He was nervous too, but at least if he got to go first and was just super genuine and apologetic you wouldn’t dump him if that was your plan for this conversation.

“OK sure.” He agreed and exhaled before looking into your eyes, “I’m really sorry for the way I’ve been acting the last couple of days. I lied about that work emergency I said I had on Saturday because I ummm….” He sighed, “I just got a bit…well, not a bit, I was -er I am upset at you for ummm…for what happened at the jeweler on Friday.” He said and you frowned, “I was…I was hoping that after having such an intimate and well, serious moment like that w-with the engagement ring? I hoped that we could maybe have a serious conversation about our future together, like see what our goals were and all that. But then you just went and deflected it by making a total joke of it and it…hurt my feelings and made me feel like maybe you were not as serious about me as I am about you. I should’ve said something when we got a moment to ourselves but I just thought you would deflect again or make light of what happened and I got nervous and just…shut down instead.” He explained with a frown and you immediately reached your hand out to his and he took it immediately.

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I also wanted to talk to you about that same thing.” You said and he nodded, urging you to go on. “I know what I did and I’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. I just…got really uncomfortable and freaked out a bit when I realized the conversation you were wanting to have with me.” You explained and he looked even more disappointed and you spoke up again quickly, “Not because the idea of having a future with you makes me uncomfortable! But because in my experience marriage doesn’t really guarantee anything…” you explained and his eyes softened as yours welled up again, “I mean, my entire marriage was a total lie! We had been so great before we took that step and it scares me to think that maybe marriage is the problem and that it’ll just ruin what we have together. And like…when Cal proposed to me we had also been together for about a year and I suddenly felt like I was in a re-run! And the last thing I want is to repeat history with you. I mean, I’ve only been divorced a year, so I suddenly felt like once again I was just jumping the gun because I was high on love or something and I started to doubt myself and my choices. Not you, never you though. J-just me and my judgement.” You explained with tearful eyes upon admitting that to him. You hated feeling like you couldn’t be objective and up until that point you were so confident that you had been objectively doing what was best for you by allowing yourself to fall for Harry.

“Fuck…I wasn’t even thinking about that, baby. I completely forgot that you were even married before! Jesus… I’m sorry. I wasn’t even considering that or how you might feel about it.” He shook his head incredulously and clearly disappointed in himself for putting you in that position. You smiled despite your glossy eyes, because his reaction alone assured you that you were with the right person. Despite all of the love and feelings tangled up in this, Harry was the best thing for you, even objectively speaking. “Call me crazy, but to me it sometimes feels like we’ve been together forever.” He confessed with a timid smile and you squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Yeah, it does to me too.” You agreed earnestly, “I’m so sorry for making light of such a special moment, Harry. It truly was so special, it felt so…real and possible and promising, then I went and…ruined it by mentioning fucking magic…”

“It’s impressive how mentioning the magic truly sucked it out of the moment.” He mused with a grin and you chuckled and shook your head with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry…” you sighed again and he chuckled.

“S’alright, baby. I’m glad we’ve cleared the air.” He said looking more relaxed all around.

“Me too. Can you forgive me though, for making light of such a serious moment and of dismissing what you were so clearly feeling then? I promise I’ll be more communicative next time I feel any type of apprehension about anything.” You said and he smiled and leaned forward, grabbing your face gently and kissing your lips quickly.

“Of course I forgive you.” He assured you and you smiled, “Though, the thing you truly owe me an apology for, which you have even failed to mention during this very serious conversation, is the fact that you called me a bloody muggle.” He said with a grin and you giggled, “I’ve never been called a muggle before. That was your true crime.” He joked, lightening the mood between you two. You laughed lightly at this fact.

“Well I’m sorry for calling you a muggle. Out of anyone in the world, I am more than aware that you truly do have the magic in all the right places.” You said with a slightly suggestive grin and he chuckled and kissed you again.

“That I do.” He mumbled against your lips with a smirk and you kissed him back before you pulled back from it with smiles.

“Now, if you want a do over of that conversation I’m more than prepared to talk about it.” You said and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded bashfully, “Well, obviously I want to marry you.” He said and your smile widened. “I just ummm…I wanted to know if you wanted the same thing down the line?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do.” You agreed.

“Great! Umm…so obviously this is uncharted territory to me, but you’ve had experience in this, which I completely failed to consider before…” he sighed, “But ummm…what would you want out of a marriage with me when we get to that stage? Or in your eyes what would a marriage look like?” He asked you earnestly. You had never been asked that before. Is that what people did when they talked about their future? If so, Cal had skipped all of this…he had told you once after a weekend shag-a-thon that he would marry you one day and that was about all of the discussion you’d had about it.

“Ummm…obviously, don’t cheat on me.” You said with a smile and he nodded.

“Never.” He assured you.

“I think we’ve struck a really good time balance in the last few months with our work and our time together and with our friends. I would like to continue having open and honest communication…” you said and he hummed in agreement, “I would expect to maybe have a bit more discussion and input about our own professional endeavors. Like if my little company gets bigger and in more demand I would certainly talk to you about it before just jumping into all this extra work that would take away from our time together, you know? I think that’s more from my experience with Cal…like I honestly just believed that his work was just taking all of his time. I didn’t have the slightest clue about anything going on at the firm. He kept me in the dark and so it was just so much easier for him to lie to me and I would be none the wiser.”

“Yeah.” Harry said with a frown as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently.

“What else…” you hummed, “Oh, the finances bit!” You said and he nodded, “I like what Cal and I had arranged. We both contributed pretty equitably. We did have a joint account for that, but we also had our individual money and savings. I mean, we were a bit closer in earnings though, so that might look very different for us when we get to that point. But having some financial independence is a must for me.” You explained.

“I completely agree with you there.” Harry said and you smiled.

“Also kids. I mean, at least one…maybe two?” You said and his smile widened and he nodded, “I would expect that you be just as present and available for our kids as I would be when you’re at home. I mean, the home is a shared space, so I wouldn’t want to be like a wife, maid, cook, nanny, and business woman. I would expect that we share the load and that each of us took the same ownership over our home and our children.” You said and he nodded. “Also, I’d expect that we don’t let the romance die.” You said and he smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of that, my love.” He assured you.

“I guess the overarching theme here is that I would want a marriage to look more like a partnership this time around. I don’t want to feel like I’m the only one stoking it to life all the time. I want to feel loved, seen, and supported by my partner. What about you? Any expectations of me?” You asked him.

“I agree with everything you’ve said. I want to marry you because I want to have a life with you. I want to be present for you and for our family. I want to share our time together as much as possible. I know that sometimes things can happen and we can sort of veer, so I would expect you to let me know when I’m not doing my part. I also expect that you allow me to do the same for you. If we do have kids I want to be very hands on, so I want to be able to choose how to parent with you. I want our goals for our family to align as much as possible, you know?” He asked and you nodded. “Obviously, the nitty gritty of each of these will not be figured out until we start to cross those bridges, but overall I would want our marriage to basically be like our safe haven from everything else. I want it to just be us and our family after a long day. It’s the place where I want to feel safe and comforted and loved as well. And I would want our kids to feel that too, to feel like being with their family is a breath of fresh air.” He smiled and you did as well.

“I love you so much, you know that?” You hummed happily.

“I love you too.” He whispered before bringing up your hand and kissing the top of it. “And ummm, I realize that you’re still healing from the disappointment of your last marriage, so I don’t want to push you or rush you through that. I mean, I would marry you next month if you wanted!” He chuckled, “But I want you to feel ready for that step with me. So whenever you are, just let me know and we can…call Dan, the magic man and see about some engagement rings.” He said with a bashful, but hopeful little smile and you just surged forward and hugged him, tackling him down into the couch and he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“I’m gonna keep working through it for us, OK? I promise.” You said to him quietly.

“I know, baby.” He hummed as he rubbed over your back, “God, I thought you were going to dump me…”

“Oh my god, I thought the same thing about you!” You sniggered and then pressed yourself up to look at him and he hugged around your waist lightly, “Was prepared to fight for you tooth and nail.”

“Oh same, baby. Can’t let you go that easily.” He hummed and you grinned.

“I’m going to kiss you now, OK?” You said and he nodded before you dipped down to attach your lips to his eagerly.

It was easy for your kisses to start to get more and more obscene the longer your lips moved together. Your hips were moving over his, grinding your centers together heatedly, longing for some much needed friction. Feeling his erection growing and stiffening up in his joggers was driving you crazy. You wanted to rip his clothes off and go to town on him. You moaned into the kiss as his hands cupped your ass and guided your pace. He slightly shifted and then hummed in delight as you were now perfectly resting over his cock with each grind of your hips. You bit down on his bottom lip, sucking gently, teasing with your tongue but not slipping it into his mouth. He was growing impatient, his fingers digging into your plush bottom indicated his need for you to do more.

“Need something?” You asked with a playful grin and he nodded. You knelt up so that you were straddling his lap now and peering down at him. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” You asked him softly. Suddenly his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pushing you down into a kiss. It was sloppy and urgent and you giggled into it.

“Suck me off.” he mumbled against your mouth. “Please.” He tagged on after a few moments of your eyes just staring into his playfully.

“Alright, only because you asked so nicely…” you said with a smile and he immediately bit down on his bottom lip when he felt your fingers dancing along the elastic band of his joggers.

“Mmm…on second thought turn around. Wanna taste you too.” He said with a smirk that just about melted you from the inside out.

“Definitely not gonna argue with that…” you mused and quickly got off of him and of the couch to get all the clothes off of your lower half. Harry also took advantage and did the same before tugging you back over to him and kissing you deeply before instructing you to get back over him again. You were cautious and allowed him to guide your movements until your wet center was being tickled by his puffs of air. It was making you shiver as a chill traveled down your spine until your skin was covered in goosebumps.

“So fucking pretty and so fucking wet for me.” He hummed, his lips continued tickling your labia as he spoke against you. He hadn’t applied enough pressure for you to feel him against any of the more sensitive spots, but it was keeping you on edge as he kissed over where your entrance was very lightly.

“Baby…” you sighed with impatience.

“Don’t whine at me, use your mouth like I want you to.” He said and you moaned before just taking a hold of his cock and dipping the head between your lips. You gave him a nice, hard suck and he moaned lowly against you. You swore that you felt the vibration of his moan tickle your clit, “Fuck take more, baby…shit just like that. So fucking good with that mouth.” He sighed in pleasure as you sunk down half way and stroked the rest of him with your hand.

You moaned when you felt his fingers slightly spread your folds apart before he started laving from your entrance to your clit, his pace was set to that of your sucking on his cock. He was so good at this, he knew all of your weak spots well. You ground against him when he pushed his thick, hot tongue into your entrance. He plunged it in and out, in and out, over and over…you were so sensitive right at your entrance, it was making your head spin and you started to sink lower on his cock. He started to thrust up into your mouth, making you drool down his cock. When his fingers found your clit you moaned around him which caused him to groan against you.

“Fuck…” he grunted as he kissed at your cheek and let his tongue wander up to your bum. You shivered as he ran his tongue over your ribbed little hole as he sunk his thick digits into your sopping entrance. He twisted his fingers a bit until he felt yours walls clamp down around his fingers hard, “Right there, baby?” You moaned in response and he chuckled and then hissed when you sunk all the way down his cock, “Oh fuck…fuck yeah…” he hissed as his abs tensed up when his tip collided with the soft back of your mouth. His fingers kept prodding into that spot that had your arousal dripping from you and it built your orgasm quickly. He always found your g-spot and it did wonders for your orgasms.

You were nearly gagging on his cock as he thrust up into your throat, seeking out his own pleasure as you started to lose your rhythm with how good his fingers were working you. You were trying your best to breathe properly through your nose but it was hard to and the lack of proper airflow was making you feel a little woozy, but you were thriving off it because you were feeling the pleasure far more than normal.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…need you to come for me first, baby. Please…” he panted and you moaned around him and pulled up to focus on his tip as your hand stroked him expertly. It brought you joy to see his thighs trembling as he tried to hold his orgasm back, “Baby…baby, please…” he chuckled and you let your tongue rub into his slit, tasting his slightly salty pre-come starting to pool at it, “Oh fuck…” he groaned and he had to pull his fingers from you and just grabbed your thighs as his head rolled back and he chuckled, the sound melting into a grunt until you felt his sperm starting to shoot into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, but could feel some spilling out of the side of your mouth. You then slowly pulled off but kept stroking very slowly, “C-can’t believe you made me come first…” he chuckled breathily, “You’re gonna get it.” He panted and you grinned mischievously.

“It was apology head.” You hummed, “Think I owe you a bit more apologizing though…” you suggested mischievously and he was about to respond but you dipped down and sucked around his sensitive tip before he could even stop you. He started to laugh a bit at the sensitivity and breathily begged you to ease up as the tingles and overstimulation seemed to run an electric current down to his toes. He was trying to mind you as he writhed a bit beneath you.

“Baby!” He groaned through gritted teeth and just as you were about to let him go and cut him a break he moaned, “Fuck, I’mgonnacomeagain…” he slurred his words as he squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs were completely tense, his legs buckled as he groaned, “Shit baby, don’t stop…Don’t stop, don’t stop!” He begged and seconds later you felt his second orgasm pooling into your mouth. Once again, he was flooding it up with his generous creamy load and when you could tell he was done you pulled off of him with a satisfied smile as you swallowed it all down. Before you could even move he landed a sharp slap to your ass that made you straighten up and he chuckled as you glanced back and shot him glare, he was smirking at you in the same manner you were smirking at him. Then you knelt up and carefully got off the couch, you were going to offer him some water when he shot up and grabbed your hand and you glanced over at him.

“What, baby?” You asked with a smile.

“You’re not getting off that easy.” He smirked, “Come on, take a seat.” He said with an inviting smile.

“A seat?” You asked him with a smirk.

“Yeah love, on my face.” He grinned and well, he didn’t have to entice you any further. He was quick to get one of your decorative pillows under his head before you were lowering yourself down against his mouth. He kissed at you and tongued at your clit a few times and you watched as he got lost in you. You were letting him do his thing, but then his eyes blinked open and met your entranced gaze, “Use me to get off.” he mumbled against your sticky pussy, “Come on.” He encouraged.

You could see the lust in his eyes, he was hungry for it as much as you were. So without apprehension you slowly let more of your weight down over him. Your teeth were pinching down on your bottom lip as you slightly ran your folds over his mouth and he immediately got to work and you let out a sigh of relief as he sloppily lapped at you.The best thing about this was that he was really into it and it made the experience that much more pleasurable. He had his arms wrapped around your thighs as his neck craned up a bit to get even closer if possible. The wet and slurping sounds of him feasting on you were riling you up and you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to grind down against him. You let your head tilt back as your clit bumped into his nose over and over again until you were seeing stars. You were sure you were suffocating him beneath you, but he was holding you down so tightly you wouldn’t be able to really pull away if you wanted. You looked down at him with pleasure drunk eyes to see that he was looking at you just the same way and you groaned through a smile as you guided yourself a bit lower so that your clit was over his mouth.

“Suck it please, I’m getting close.” You requested and he groaned and opened up before latching his mouth over the top half of your pussy. You immediately moaned when the pressure of his sucks started to make your clit throb incessantly.

“Mmmm, just like that, baby…You’re doing so good. Fuck it feels so good.” You praised him as your fingers raked into his hair. Your eyebrows creased in when you felt the tip of his tongue slowly start to flick against your sensitive little bud every time he sucked it in. You were gripping his hair harder and harder the closer you got to your orgasm and he moaned at the sting of your pull on his thick curls. “Oh…you-you’re gonna make me come!” You alerted him and he started going a bit faster. Your breath was hitching as that unmistakeable warmth swimming in your belly started to spread all throughout your body. It was making you feel hot all over, “Yeah H, keep going like that…shit, just like that! Yes, baby!” You panted out your urgency.

Your body broke out in goosebumps as you teetered on the edge of it all, your tummy was fluttering and your thighs were quaking around his head as you clung to the feeling of that little spark that was about to ignite and make your entire body burst with the most sensational pleasure. It was until he very gently grazed his teeth over your unsuspecting little bundle that you started to come undone. You felt as if you had no control of your body as your writhed over him hard. You were completely selfish about it as you rode his face to get off.

Harry’s hands slid up and under your top and pinched at your nipples hard as you came undone over his mouth. You were moaning, praising, and cursing him relentlessly as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. You knew you were being louder than you were when you guys were at yours, but you couldn’t help it. And even still, you could hardly hear yourself over the intense ringing of your ears as your body fought it’s best to keep you coherent. You were drowning in the beautiful, warm waves of pleasure with each gentle suck he gave to your oversensitive clit. Even when you were shivering and gasping from the overstimulation you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t pull away from him. It all felt so good, you were lost and floating in pure bliss. Slowly, your orgasm started to dwindle down and you started to snigger just as he had when it was getting to be too much. When you began twitching and jerking over him from the sensitivity, he was far kinder than you were though and opted to just kiss at your messy folds delicately and lovingly until you were good and ready to get off of him.

His big, warm hands kneaded at your breasts before tickling down your abdomen and thighs. Once again you were covered in goosebumps at the lovely, little tickles of his gentle fingers over your heated skin. You could let him do this all day if you could, but you needed to let him breathe properly, so you gathered your strength and knelt up a bit. He huffed and craned his neck up to give your swollen and slicked up pussy one final kiss before he let go of your thighs and allowed you to sink down and kiss him deeply.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his mouth and he smiled.

“No, no, no. Thank you.” He insisted with a grin and you giggled and kissed his chin.

“Have you had dinner?” You asked.

“Ummm…I just ate.” He said with a smug expression and you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “You should’ve seen that coming, baby.” He chuckled.

“I really should have…” you laughed breathily, “Seriously though. I didn’t because I was nervous for our talk.” You explained.

“I did, but we can order something in or go pick something up. M’feeling a little peckish.” He said.

“What about phở? S’quite cold. I could use something warm.”

“OK, maybe I can eat again.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“The place I like doesn’t deliver, we’ll have to order and carry out. Might be like 20-30 minutes?”

“Yeah, that’s alright.” He assured.

Soon he was getting dressed and hurrying to rinse of his face while you placed your order. Then you did the same as him and just decided to remove your makeup since it was getting late. When you emerged from your bathroom you saw Harry sprawled out on your bed scrolling through his phone and you just went over and straddled his lap again. He immediately dropped his phone and hugged you as you rested over him.

“You really want to marry me?” You asked quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah, baby. I really fucking do.” He responded, “Been waiting my whole life for you.” He hummed as he caressed your back lightly.

“I think I have been waiting for you too.” You said softly and he kissed the top of your head a few times which made you smile.

You had no idea what kind of good karma you had accumulated throughout your life to deserve someone like Harry, but you were so glad that you had him in your life. He truly was your other half. You’d loved others before, but this was so different than all the other times. Finally, everything you gave was being reciprocated how you needed it to be. He made you feel important, safe, and cared for in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was comforting to be around someone who made you feel that way. He often told you that he felt the same with you and nothing could make you happier than knowing that he felt your love as well. Harry was definitely more of a physical touch type of person, which you were a quality time person, but those two seemed to go hand in hand. You could lay in silence with him like this for hours, just being close to him, being in his presence for whatever amount of time always made you feel better.

…. DECEMBER ….

You were currently getting ready for Harry’s firm’s Holiday party. A thing you had always wondered about but had never been invited to when you were with Cal. You were very excited because Harry told you it was quite lavish this year, especially after the very successful year he’d had. It was going to be formal/black tie optional because he really wanted to treat his employees after all of their hard work and effort.

Typically he gave a budget to each department and they would choose how to celebrate or if they just wanted to give out bonuses to their people. But he wanted to celebrate every single person who put in effort for him and his family’s company and give everyone bonuses, or at least that what you suggested and he took that suggestion. From the top executives to the interns who did the boring paperwork and coffee runs. Every person counted and he wanted them to feel that. He had asked you to work with Corey to vet a few caterers.

He had hired a planner already for the organization and decor because he didn’t want you fretting over all of this, he wanted you to enjoy as a guest. Nevertheless, knowing this was your niche, he still ran all of the design elements and ideas by you which he knew would make you so excited. When he looked through the selection of caterers the planner offered he wasn’t really impressed. Since he didn’t find what he was looking for he of course he asked you and well now, everything was absolutely perfect. The party was later in the afternoon in the same building the firm was in, but on the top floor. It had been converted into an event hall the year prior and it was the perfect location as the mostly all glass walls gave breathtaking views of the city. In preparation for this most lavish event, you and Harry had been lazing around and leaving everything in the hands of the planner.

You had decided to make a whole weekend of it and stayed over at one of his for rent apartments in the city with him. It was lovely and you were just laying in the big, comfy bed as you looked through some emails from potential clients wanting to hire you for their special events. It was around noon when Harry finally got out of bed and he’d only done so because he still wasn’t sure what he would be wearing that night. He had brought along two options and he wanted to get your opinion on what would be the best look for the party.

“Baby, what do you think?” Harry asked you as he emerged in a classic black tuxedo and you glanced up from your laptop and then your eyes widened a bit before you smirked.

“Okay, James Bond! I see you…” You hummed at him and he chuckled and glanced down bashfully, shaking his head at your nonsense, “Christ, look at you.” You whispered in awe as you got out of bed and hurried over to him.

“Like it?” He asked.

“Oh man, do I…” you said as you straightened out the bowtie just a bit.

“I also brought a gray one that-”

“No, no. Wear the black one.” You said decisively with a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. It’s so classic and ummm, we’ll also match.” You said with a big smile, your excitement was shimmering in your eyes.

“Like a proper couple.” He said and you nodded giddily. “What dress did you end up getting?” He asked you.

“The Sau Lee one? Remember s’black with a big bow in the front?”

“Mmmm…faintly.” He said and you smiled.

“Should I try it on for you?” You asked coyly. And he gave you an expression that screamed ‘obviously’. “OK, let me do that. Go wait on the bed.” You instructed and hurried into the closet.

The surprise you had for him was that you’d gotten some lingerie specifically for when you got back home. You hadn’t picked a dress with a bow as the top for nothing! You wanted him to feel like you were the present he got to unwrap on Christmas morning. Moments later you were buck naked and just slipping into the dress to show him. You had every intention of getting back into your PJ’s until you had to shower and get ready for the evening. You jumped around a bit, grunting as you tried to get the zip up.

“Need help?” He called out.

“I’ve got it!” You assured him and after a few moments you were smiling at your reflection with complete satisfaction before heading out of the large walk-in closet and into the bedroom.

“Oh, baby…” Harry exhaled and shook his head as his smile widened.

“What?” You giggled.

“How am I supposed to see you walking around like that all night and do nothing about it?” He chuckled and you smile widened.

“You’ll just have to be patient.” You said to him and he chuckled.

“I will try my best. My god, you’re perfect.” He hummed and you were literally buzzing with excitement.

“I’m gonna wear these long diamond drop earrings I picked up at a Francesca’s a few years back. Been trying to find a thing to wear them for and I finally can! Oh, I also got these black satin gloves that I think would make it look that much more fancy and that would look cute with a diamond bracelet I borrowed from Cece-”

“Cece has a diamond bracelet?” He asked you and you nodded.

“She has sugar daddies in powerful places!” You said matter-of-factly.

“The more I learn about her the more fascinating she becomes…like there’s gonna be a film about her life at some point.”

“Oh, for sure…” You chuckled and he smiled.

“Well I say yes, go for the whole look! Gotta commit to it, love.”

“Mmmm, you’re right. We’re gonna look so cute. We’ll have to have the photographers take nice pictures of us.”

“Definitely. Also, I know it would push us over budget a bit, but Corey talked me into the slow-mo 360 photo op thing so we’ll have that too.” He said.

“Nice, Corey…that’s gonna be great!” You grinned and he nodded.

“Yeah, it was pretty sick. OK, now go change before we have to get you a new dress for tonight on account of me tearing it off of you.” He said and you cackled as you hurried back to the closet to get changed.

Though you knew he was being a little theatrical, there was a very real possibility that he would do just as he said; when he was in the mood he could be ravenous. You could be too, especially when it came to him. But he had proven this to you over and over again, even on that first time you hooked up with him. He had gone completely overboard, not that you didn’t benefit from it, but based on how things had been with you before it was a lot. And now you had built your stamina to better match his own.

It was around 2pm when you got in the shower. You and Harry were supposed to arrive at 4:30 so you had to hurry it up a bit. Even though you had begged him not to, he followed you into the shower and you had to pry him off of you to be able to get out. But when you were free you got to drying up, moisturizing, and getting your lingerie on. You wouldn’t be wearing a bra with your dress so you had on a deep red mesh thong, imprinted with black little hearts and the edges outlining the mesh were frilled. They were so cute and hyperfeminine. Best part was that you had a shade of red lipstick that matched the lingerie you were wearing as well. It wasn’t crazy lingerie but you loved the idea of having a horny little secret all night long. Maybe you’d tell him when you were riding up on the elevator. Tell him that you had a little treat for him at the end of the night… It would undoubtedly rile him up and keep him on edge.

*************

And rile him up you did. You actually had very punctual guests and so you actually got straight to greeting just minutes after you arrived. Of course, you were sat beside each other at dinner, but he was talking mostly to his colleague on his left and you to his colleague on your right. When dinner was cleared, everyone was asked to huddle around the screen at the Dj booth for a little slide show of the year in review all the while the event staff cleared the tables of the china quickly. Harry gave a small little speech about how grateful he was for everyone before letting them know that their night was their own from that point on.

There were the photo ops, a couple games, a few dessert tables, and of course dancing to a live big band ensemble. As you made your rounds you eventually ran into Cal and his date, Melissa, which seemingly was a bit older than you were, which was good for him. She was a very sweet woman from the short conversation you’d had and Cal seemed to be in a great mood with her around.

For a while, you and Harry kept getting swept away from each other, but that didn’t mean that your eyes weren’t constantly meeting, your gazes simmering with longing. Your eyes were hazy with lust, it was making your blood thump harder and faster through your veins. You were smoldering with desire for him, you’d been lusting after him all day and you were reaching a boiling point. You caught him raking his eyes down your plump-as-a-peach ass while his top row of teeth sunk into his plush bottom lip. You grinned and when your gazes met he signaled you to look right with his eyebrows and you saw that it was the exit of the salon. You bit your lip and nodded. You excused yourself from your conversation and hurried off to meet Harry by the door.

When you finally caught up with him you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and he glanced back and smiled and his hand found found yours and pulled you out to the corridor. The bathrooms were out there, so there were plenty of people hanging around out there, but he just beelined it to the elevators. He pulled you ahead of him and then hugged you to his body from behind. He slid one if his hands down to your lower tummy and pushed against it, inevitably pressing your body back against his until your bottom was flush with his front and you smirked when you felt the outline of his boner rubbing up against your butt.

“Gonna fuck you till you leave a huge creamy mess all over my cock.” He whispered before nipping at the shell of your ear.

“Fuck me…” you exhaled as your walls fluttered beautifully, making a tingle zap through your body.

“Alright hurry, push the ‘door close’ button.” He mumbled as he rushed you inside as the doors opened.

In moments you were shooting down floors at a time until you came to a slow and smooth stop on his floor. As soon as he got to the floor he hurried around the reception desk there and dug in his front pocket to grab his key card and give you access past the heavy glass door behind the main reception desk. You guys rushed through other communal areas surrounding a few clusters of cubicles and other offices on your way back to his office, he was all the way at the back of the space so after you got through the lounge and the back offices, you finally made it to the administrative offices. And at the far end of that area was his office. He pushed the door open and held it for you as you hurried in, then he came up behind you grabbing you by the hips and guiding you behind his desk, kicking the chair away from it. You could just barely see anything so you bumped into the frame and he winced for you.

“You alright, baby?” He asked as he tapped against the base of his desk lamp and a very dim, warm glow lit up his office.

“Yeah, H.” You whispered and he hummed and looked you over once more before he kissed at your neck sloppily.

“Can I ride this up past your hips?” He asked of your dress.

“Nuh-uh, gotta take it all off.” you said and he hummed.

“S’that alright? Can I?”

“Yeah, baby…there’s not a bow over my boobs for no reason…” you smirked and he chuckled.

“Oh okay, I see…” he mused with a smile, “You really are a gift, baby. So exquisite.” He hummed and found your zipper before tugging it slowly down your back. When he saw the edge of your thong he smiled. “And look at this…Can I take a picture?” He asked.

“A picture? For what?” You chuckled.

“To have a wank over you when needed, of course! What else for, baby?” He asked rhetorically and you chuckled again.

“Yeah, get my dress off first.” You said and he even crouched down to help you step out of it. When Harry noticed your point toed black heels, he decided that they were staying on for this. He neatly draped your dress over the chair that had rolled a few feet away from you and then reached for his phone in his pocket.

“S’gonna be a .5 alright? Bend over and look back. Alright, hold it.” He said and then the flash went off. He then brought the phone down and opened the app and grinned. “Fuck, look at you…” he said showing you and you smiled. “These are too cute to come off.” he complimented as his finger tucked itself under the elastic band edge that narrowed and got lost between your plump, round cheeks. His finger traced down until he was down by your pussy. You were scorching between your legs and he brought four fingers together and petted at your pussy. The mesh there felt sticky and he moaned, “Fuck you’re sopping wet.” He chuckled as he set his phone down on the top of his desk and you nodded.

“Please get inside me. I need to feel you, baby.” You requested and he groaned.

“Alright baby, let me…let me get these off.” he said and just threw off his jacket and untucked his shirt before working the button and fly of his slacks. He rolled his briefs down with his pants before he grabbed his cock. He gave it a firm squeeze at the base and then at the head, groaning in relief at all that alleviated pressure.

You wiggled your ass at him, absolutely gagging to feel his girth spreading your tight, cushy walls apart in one go. He painted down your bum with his tip and then pushed you down onto the desk and you gasped as your breasts smushed into the cold surface. But you held your position and smiled as he spread your legs further with his own. His thick fingers gathered the center strap of your thong and moved it to the side, tugging hard enough that it exposed your pussy enough so that he could smear his cock against your folds and slick it up with your sticky arousal.

“Fuck baby, please…” you begged.

“How do you want it.”

“However you feel like, just get in me.” You said and he wasted no time to nudge at your weepy little hole with the bulbous head of his cock. You were basically vibrating with anticipation to feel him sinking inside of you. You needed to feel it like you needed air to breathe. The last thing you expected was for him to just ram his cock into you, you gasped at the sudden and harsh intrusion and even let out a small whimper as he held himself deep inside you. Your walls spasmed around him, adjusting to his sudden and most welcomed intrusion.

“So fucking tight, fuck…” he grunted as he gently started to grind against you. His tip would brush against your cervix occasionally like this. You were slightly on your tiptoes and your legs were starting to tremble, but when you lowered your feet from that position to relieve the burning in your calf muscles his cock completely pushed against it and you shrieked and Harry chuckled. “Y’alright, baby?” He asked as he ground into you and you groaned softly, “It hurts?” He asked.

“J-just a little bit.” You got out as you sought out the pleasure despite the small discomfort.

“Yeah? Is my cock too big for you, baby…” he hummed as he stayed there, letting you get used to it, “Can’t handle it?” He asked and you whimpered at this feeling, he had never intentionally gone that deep it was so new for you. You loved it but it was a feeling to get used to for sure, especially with his size.

“I-I don’t know…” you confessed as you stayed perfectly still, letting him grind against you, prodding up against the deepest part of you rhythmically. You were breathing shallowly as you tried to get used to it because by no means were you about to ask him to stop, you needed it so bad.

“You sure you can’t? From what I’m seeing you’re handling it pretty well, baby. Fuck…just feel so good around me.” he groaned as he started going a bit faster and suddenly the sounds of your arousal intensified into loud squelching sounds every time his front collided with you. The filthy sounds had Harry’s ears ringing and he grinned, “S’starting to feel better?”

“Yes…yes fuck. Harder, baby. Please, fuck me harder.” You moaned and he did as you asked. He went at it with greater force and it had your eyes squeezing shut, you were dripping around his cock and he was absolutely obsessed with it. His fingers slithered down the front of your thong and started to toy with your clit. “Mmmm, that’s it.” You egged him on happily as his fingers swirled around your sensitive little bud. It was sending additional little shocks of pleasure down your legs. You started to moan when he picked up the pace and fucked into you harder and faster than before, his desk was shaking beneath you and you swore your legs were about to give.

“Shit…” he grunted as he stilled deep inside of you once again. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw clenched. He was so fucking close and he didn’t want it to be over yet…but you should be getting back down to the party… “Can I turn you around, baby? Wanna see you when I come.” He said softly and you nodded and when he pulled out of you the emptiness made you feel so cold. Nevertheless, you pressed yourself up and he twirled you around and bent down a bit to lift you up onto the surface of the desk. He smiled as he got a look at you in the dim lighting. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the slightly smudged mascara and eyeliner at the outer corner of your eyes and when he reached up to wipe it away you turned your head.

“No, don’t.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Not gonna make it worse, just wanna clean it up a bit so that-”

“I know, don’t want you to clean it up.” You responded quietly and he smiled.

“Want to go back up there looking all messy and fucked out, is that it?” He asked you and you smiled bashfully and nodded.

“Yeah, just a bit.” You hummed back and he smiled.

“Well in that case…” he grinned and grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. You were wearing a red lipstick so you had been very cautious all night to not stain yourself or anything around you, but suddenly Harry was sucking on your bottom lip, surely smearing you and himself with it and when he pulled back he grinned and just swiped his thumb carefully around your lips and the corners of your mouth. Harry’s mouth was stained all over as well and you giggled as you reached up and did the same, but seeing as his skin was bare, the color had stained his skin directly and it left behind a slight deep pink stain. “Get me again.” He said softly and you looked into his eyes.

“You sure?” You asked and he nodded.

“But my neck. Leave a mark yeah?” He said lowly and you bit your lip pensively, “M’all yours my love, please.” He requested.

“OK, but while you finish fucking me.” You said and his smile widened and he nodded in agreement and ran his hands up your thighs to reach your thong.

“Lift up a bit.” He said quietly and you did so to allow him to slip it to the side and guide his erection back towards your entrance. You rocked your hips forward to help get him inside and you moaned in relief when he was lodged deep inside of you once again. He smiled down at you and brought one of his hands to your breast and squeezed it before brushing his thumb over your nipple as he started to rock into you. “Deep like before?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he grinned, “Liked that?” He asked quietly and you smiled timidly.

“Yeah, baby.” You agreed, “Want to be able to feel it for days.” You said and he moaned and delivered one sharp thrust into you. He watched your eyebrows crease together at the dull ache from his cock ramming into your cervix again.

“S’that good for you, baby?”

“Yeah, more please.” You hummed and he kept going like that. He wasn’t going fast, just hard and deep. It was making your tummy swarm with butterflies and your hands pulled him down so that you could latch your lips to his neck. You kissed and sucked at his skin, leaving behind a love bite as he plunged deep into you.

“Fuck baby, m’getting close. Get your clit for me, please. Want you to come with me.” He panted and you did as he asked and quickly got your fingers into your bottoms and started to rub in time with his thrusts. You started to squirm a bit as the pleasure started to extend beyond the pit of your stomach. Your legs were tightening around him as you whimpered his name. “Oh god…oh fuck, baby y-you’re gonna make me come!” He grunted as he started to lose his rhythm, “Look at me, Y/N. Right at me, baby.” He mumbled and you pulled away from his neck to lock eyes with his and his brows furrowed as he shook his head, “So fucking perfect.” He complimented you, “Gonna stuff you full.”

You swallowed thickly and your jaw went slack as your body started to tremble with your impending orgasm. You gasped for air and fought to keep your eyes on his as your toes started to curl and the fire started to spread from your belly all throughout your body.

“I’m coming!” You gasped as you started to whither around his cock. The last thing you saw was Harry smiling before your eyes squeezed shut. And then he started to thrust into you so fast, chasing his own release. He kept colliding with your g-spot and it was making your withering orgasm turn into another one. You could hear him groaning and feel his warmth filling you up as he came inside you, but you started to rub your clit faster until your walls were pulsing around his cock again in another orgasm that had you moaning loudly without any regard for where you were or who could be around. You were just seeing white behind your closed eyelids as this one hit you even harder than the first.

“Shit…shit, baby! Oh fuck, baby!” He gasped in sensitivity but you locked your legs around him and held him in you as you relished in your second orgasm. Your ears were ringing and your entire body was shivering in ecstasy. You could hear him laughing a bit, fighting through the intense sensitivity of still being buried to the hilt inside of your hot and throbbing walls. You were both panting, trying to catch your breaths and come down from that. You just held each other in silence for a bit and you gently rubbed at his back as he hugged you close. “You really are the best gift I could’ve ever asked for, baby.” He said quietly and you smiled and craned your neck up to kiss his jaw. He let you go and you pulled back from each other and then reached for his jaw, ready to wipe off the faint kiss mark you’d left on him there and he pulled his neck back out of your reach and you grinned, “Gonna show it off too.” He said and you smiled.’

“OK, baby.” You said, clearly giddy with his decision to have him wearing your lipstick print on his skin.

“Are you having a nice time?”

“Oh yeah! Everyone is so nice. I’m having a really good time. We should get back down there actually, maybe do some of the games?”

“Yeah.” He hummed but made no effort to pull out of you just yet, “I love you so much. Too much.” He said softly as he ran his thumb over your cheek bone and you leaned into his touch.

“Too much?” You questioned through a giggle and he chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, like sometimes s’too much for my body. Like, it feels like I can’t breathe.” He explained with a smile and you grabbed his face and pecked his lips quickly.

“So I take your breath away?” You whispered and his smile widened as he huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you do, baby.” He hummed. “Do I take your breath away?” He asked and you grinned and shook your head. This made Harry pout and you smiled at him.

“It’s worse than that!” You said through your smile.

“Is it? Tell me then.” He hummed before quickly pecking the tip of your nose.

“You know how when the vampires can over hypnotize someone in What We Do In The Shadows?” You asked and he nodded, “And the person gets the “brain scramblies”?” You said and he chuckled, “That’s what you do to me. Makes my brain feel all fuzzy and staticky. Can only think about you and nothing else.” You finished and he was smiling wide.

“That’s cute, baby. But I think not breathing is worse. Therefore, I love you more.” He said and you smiled.

“Actually, you’re wrong. Your brain is what technically gives you life. It holds the information that makes you breathe on instinct. It’s your command center. Without it you wouldn’t be able to function at all! And somehow, you’re so entangled in mine that I know your mood just by the greeting you use when-” he interrupted you with his lips attaching themselves to yours in a deep and sensual kiss. Your heart fluttered and it felt like time stopped for a few seconds. After a few perfect and tense moments you pulled back and your eyes blinked open and your gazes locked, “-come home at night.” You finished and he smiled.

“I definitely love you more.” He said.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, baby?” He asked with a smile.

“Ummm, I’m ready.” You said and he looked at you with confusion for a second, “To take the next step with you.” You said and his brows furrowed as he took in what you said. “You’re the love of my life. I don’t want to live a single day without you by my side.” You said sincerely.

Harry couldn’t contain his joy and he just pulled you into his arms once again and you exhaled against him, so happy and relieved to have finally told Harry something that had been on your heart since a few days after your conversion about your future. You were so proud of yourself for just listening to your intuition when it came to this decision. After a few moments of just holding each other he pulled back and gently grabbed your face in his hands. His eyes bore into yours, looking into them so sincerely you could feel his emotions radiating off of him in waves and he smiled wide and kissed you deeply until you both couldn’t breathe.

In this moment it felt like you were the only two people in the world; even with the gorgeous cityscape bustling with life behind you, it felt like the world was all yours. You hadn’t experienced happiness with another person like you did with him. You guys made each other better and that was the point, wasn’t it? To be with someone who helped you be your best. So when your parents inevitably asked over the holidays what your goals were with each other you two could tell them with certainty that you were going to start a life together soon. Every part of you felt alight and you couldn’t wait to get started in planning your future together. Your kiss ended and he sighed and gazed deeply into your eyes.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna do everything I can to make you so, so happy.” Harry said softly but with a conviction you felt transferring into you as well. You smiled at this and squeezed him just a bit tighter.

“You already do, baby.” You assured him happily.

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suhnflowerstay · 9 months ago

Text

game night

mark lee x afab!reader

a/n: this is based on a real life situation so it might not be super relatable (no description of what reader looks like besides the fact that they’re afraid of sitting on his lap)

and it is not representative of any characteristics the idols have or anything lol it does require the knowledge of Jackbox Games. quiplash is a game where you get a prompt and you anonymously write down what you think is the funniest answer and everyone votes for the funniest one. i'm posting this twice because i originally wrote it for mark but my sister thought it was well suited for chan as well soooo yeah!

wc: 2.9k

tags: toxic situationship vibes (like really toxic), smoking (barely mentioned, high emotions, angst, smut, sad ending

----------------

You and Mark had known each other for a few years. You had initially met on vacation and got each other's contact information to keep in touch. You were talking all the time and FaceTiming nearly every day. You were friends, such close friends that you decided to go to the same university. Once you moved to his area for college, you were spending all your time with each other. Eventually, the sexual tension between you began to build and before you knew it, your situationship began.

A few months before your friends with benefits relationship with Mark began, he had been sharing with you how messy his previous arrangement went. You had seen other girls come and go because they could never handle him sticking by his word and refusing to commit to them. You were also not interested in commitment, so you felt comfortable going into it. You knew exactly who you were friends with, so you assumed you would be fine. You were just friends who had a sexual attraction to each other. There was no reason that having sex would have to complicate things, right? Wrong.

Yes, there are people who can have a healthy friends with benefits style relationship. Sex is easy to detach from for some more than others. Your relationship with Mark was anything but detached. You were best friends who had sex, and the gray area was extremely gray. You were practically dating without the label, and that brought a lot of negative feelings bubbling up. But you both didn't want commitment. You were terrified of being vulnerable in that way and he, well… he just loved the attention.

Mark's cousin Haechan was hosting a game night with some friends, and Mark wanted you to come along and meet everyone. When you two arrived at Haechan’s house, you introduced yourself, and the first words out of Haechan's mouth were:

“Are you the one that called on Christmas?”

Immediately, Mark jumped into action to try to shut Haechan up. He stood in front of you and blocked Haechan from view, mumbling, “No, that was someone else.” You knew he had a previous situationship leading up to your situationship with him; this was no secret. You knew this because you were the one to talk him through the end of that relationship. You just hadn't realized how intense it must've been if Mark was bringing that "friend with benefits" to meet the family.

You had small talk with Haechan, asking him what his major was, and he asked yours. He offered you drinks and snacks, and you took a seat on the sectional with Mark taking the seat right next to you. You two were in your own little world, giggling about god knows what while he had his arm around you, when all of a sudden the door behind you swings open.

“MARK PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE DONE THE ENGINEERING HOMEWORK!” the disheveled boy yelled. You giggled because of how insane this random man appeared with his backpack barely slung over his shoulder, hair a mess, running up to take a seat on the couch diagonal to you two.

“Y/N, this is Jaemin. Jaemin, this is Y/N.”

Jaemin’s brain is going a million miles an hour, and the first thing he thinks to ask is:

“Are you two dating?”

You and Mark look at each other, and he says, “No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh," Jaemin says, "Well, it looks like you two are dating.”

Jaemin proceeds to talk to Mark about whatever homework they had, and his whole demeanor has you nearly falling off the couch with how hard he has you laughing. He has major himbo energy and says everything with so much passion. At one point, he ends a story he's telling with, “WHATEVER FUCKOOO!”

Soon, more of Haechan and (kind of) Mark's friends start showing up. A tall guy who catches your eye greets you. He says his name is Johnny and makes light conversation with you, asking how you know Mark and Haechan and asking how long you've lived in the city. Two guys walk in who are semi-shy and kind of just talking to each other. Mark tells you they're younger and more on the shy side, especially with people they don't know. They are, however, ready to play games and are super impatient, not willing to wait for the rest of the group. There are also three guys in the corner smoking, waiting for more people to show up. One of them catches your eye as his dimples are on display while giggling with his friends. Eventually, the rest of the group shows up, and the party can begin.

Haechan loads up Jackbox Games, and your group plays Trivia Murder Party for a few rounds, and then, a guy named Yuta says he thinks the group should play Quiplash. There are a few rounds where you make some pretty good jokes, and all of the guys hype you up, telling Mark he brought someone super funny to game night. You even make a quip at Mark's expense, and Jaemin high-fives you. At this point, you've had a few drinks, and you aren't drunk, just tipsy. But you absolutely need to pee. You ask Mark where the bathroom is, since this is his cousin's house, and Mark leads you to the bathroom, waiting for you outside the door. Once you’re done, he drags you to the empty bedroom across from the bathroom and lays back on the bed, pulling you down you on top of him.

“Are you having fun?” he looks up at you.

“Mhm," you hum, "are you?”

“Yeah."

"Your friends are nice. Jaemin's super funny. I can't believe he's real,” you giggle.

"Yeah, he is... ok, c'mon. Let’s go back before they think we’re having sex or something," he says abruptly. You thought his response was weird, but you didn't think too much about it.

Upon returning to the living room, you see your seat on the couch was stolen by a few of the guys, and you are now forced to sit on a recliner in the corner to watch the game from there. There’s only one seat though, so you just stand while Mark takes the seat.

“What are you doing?" he questions, "Come on. Sit down.”

You pause. “I-I'm okay. I don’t want to like hurt your legs or anyth-”

Mark pulls you down on his lap, so you’re forced to sit down on him. He asks if you want to smoke, and you take a singular hit, not really interested in doing that, and watch the game from afar. Jaemin has his eyes trained on you two, and you feel his stare. You turn to look at him, and he yells from across the room, “Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

You giggle saying, "Yes, we’re sure we aren’t dating."

He tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy and proceeds to ask “So, are you guys cousins?” and you cannot stop yourself from keeling over because what does he MEAN?? What kind of line of questioning is that? Why would his brain jump from dating to cousins? You look at Mark incredulously as you both laugh and confirm once again that you are just friends.

You two keep watching the game, rather than participate, and go back to your own little world until Mark decides he’s ready to go home. You follow him out, saying a single goodbye to everyone in the room. Everyone bids you goodbye in their own way with many of the guys saying how nice it was to meet you and how you should definitely come to game night again. You two walk out and Mark unlocks the car before remembering he has to go back in to get something from Haechan. You sit and wait in the car, smiling to yourself, and text your best friend about game night. You make sure to mention the beautiful man you met and how funny it was that he asked if you and Mark were cousins.

Once he enters the car, he slides his hand onto your thigh.

“Did you have fun?” he asks, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Yes, actually. I really didn't think I would, but that was so nice and all of your friends seem so cool! Jaemin is such a himbo it’s so funny... I can’t believe you guys are taking the same classes.” you add.

You don't notice, but Mark's hand clenches the steering wheel. He doesn’t say anything and begins the drive home. You stop by the grocery store on your way home to pick up some snacks, and everything between you and Mark seems pretty light hearted.

You get back to Mark’s place, shower, and change into pajamas. You two sit on the couch for a bit longer watching shows and just snacking, cuddled up together. You get up to go to the restroom, leaving your phone behind on the coffee table, and when you come back, Mark is in a noticeably different mood. His body language is tense, and he’s moved away from your original spot.

“Markie… what’s wrong?” you ask, still standing.

“Nothing. What are you talking about?”

“It just seems like... like there’s something bothering you,” you insisted.

“Why would anything be bothering me? You’re literally making something out of nothing!” he snapped.

Now, you're officially in a bad mood.

“Fine then! Forget I even asked,” you huffed, collapsing onto the opposite side of the couch to go through your phone.

Half an hour later, your anger has subsided, and you're back to being invested in the show you’re watching. Then, the leading man betrays his love interest.

“Ughhhhhh," you drone, "Why does every man suck? Like even him? You have to be joking.”

“I bet Jaemin would never do that…” Mark mumbled mockingly from his side of the couch.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” you snarled.

“Nothing.”

“Please do not fucking tell me that you’re upset over Jaemin, a man I only just met a few hours ago,” you scoffed.

“Oh, so you’re counting the hours,” Mark said, not even looking at you.

“Mark, shut the fuck up! What are you saying right now? What is your deal? I don’t even know or care about Jaemin!”

“You sure seemed to care when you texted your friend about how hot and funny you thought he was,” he said, finally looking up at you to see your reaction.

“Motherfucker, you went through my phone? Again? Are you fucking joking? Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t! I saw you texting it,” he tried to say, but you knew that was a lie because you had texted your friend right when you got into the car. He absolutely went through your phone, but this was not the first time.

“You’re a fucking liar, Mark. I know you didn’t see me texting it. And either way, what does it matter to you? Newsflash! In case you weren't aware, I’m not your girlfriend! You made sure of it, and you also made sure everyone knew that tonight!”

Mark scoffed, “What did you want me to say to them? 'Oh yeah we’re fucking’?”

“it doesn’t matter what you say to them because we aren’t anything. And that means you don’t get to be upset over me texting my friend that i thought your friend was attractive," you emphasize, "You’ve done far worse or would you like me to remind you about your sexting with Winter or sending good morning and goodnight texts to Arin when you couldn’t even find two seconds to text me back even if it was just to let me know you were busy?"

Mark sits there knowing he can't say anything to that.

"You have even less of a right to be upset because of all the shit you pull all of the time, so I’m not going to apologize for sending my friend one text about a cute boy I will probably never see again." you finish.

“So you would want to see him again?” he tries to say steadily, but his voice cracks.

You look up and see that Mark is looking at the ground now and has tears in his eyes.

“Mark…” you put your arm around him and embrace him.

“I get it, though, like he’s so much more than I could ever be," he sniffles, "He’s so funny without even trying, and he’s just so cute and attractive and everything about him screams 'y/n's type.' I don’t blame you for being interested.”

He pushes himself up to lock eyes with you. “It’s only you, you know? I know you saw the texts or whatever with other girls, but I only care about you. No one else could ever be you. I promise that at the end of the day, no matter what, I only want you.”

He looks down at your lips and hesitates before he kisses you. The kiss starts off slow and slowly progresses into a more passionate, needy one. Mark is grabbing at your hips, your stomach, your arms, whatever he can get a grip on. He starts whining and pulls away, “Please take off your clothes, sweetheart. I need you.”

You both strip down in his living room. Mark carefully lays you down on the couch and lines himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing himself in all the way without any issue. You guess high intensity and emotional situations just make you wet now after all the arguments you've had with this man.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight," he praises, "You always make me feel so big. it always feels like the first time.”

You moan and beg Mark to move, and slowly, he does. While there’s still a desperate neediness in the air, Mark is moving slowly and intentionally. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours while caressing your body. He praises every inch of you that he touches, littering you with compliments. He traces a finger along every curve and focuses on tracing circles on your tits, teasing your nipple ever so slightly before finally taking the buds between his fingers. He squeezes them, eliciting moans from your "pretty little mouth" as he calls it. He keeps one hand focused on your breast while he uses the other arm to hold himself up as he leans down to kiss you, maintaining the slow but steady rhythm. You wrap your legs and arms around him, pinning him to your chest. This position makes it so much more intimate, and you swear that he's hitting even deeper. The combination is pushing you right up to the edge. By the way Mark starts moaning, you can tell he feels the same.

“Fuck baby, I'm so close,” he groans

“Please cum inside me, Mark. I need it so bad.”

“Ugh, f-fuck, beautiful, I can’t until you do. Please cum with me baby and- fuck- and I’ll fill you up as much as you want.”

His words send you over the edge, catapulting you into a strong radiating orgasm. Your hands are grasping at his arms and back, leaving scratches in their wake, you're sure. It’s very different from what you’ve previously experienced, muted but long lasting, and you can feel it all over. Your orgasm triggers his, and he continues to fuck you through it until the overstimulation becomes too much. He pulls out of you and grabs some wipes to wipe you and himself down. He lays you down in bed and makes his way to lay down right alongside you. He sits up and places his hand on your cheek, turning your head to make you look at him.

“I-" he hesitated, "I’m sorry I went through your phone again,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your cheekbone.

“It’s okay, Mark,” you reassure him.

“I just- I knew you’d like him. I could tell from the way you were looking at him and how he was looking at you. That kid is never interested in other people’s relationships. I knew he was asking if we were dating, so he could ask you out, and it made me freak out," he sighs.

“You have no way of knowing that, Markie,” you reason.

“Regardless, I meant what I said. I know we aren’t official, but I'm only loyal to you.”

He lays back down, and you say nothing.

You say nothing because this is a conversation you have often.

You say nothing because as much as you want to commit to Mark, you probably also aren’t ready.

You say nothing because the previous statement is probably a lie you tell yourself to make yourself feel better in this relationship you have with him.

You say nothing because you know there will be more instances of you finding text messages with other girls in which he gives them more compliments/attention/time than he gives you.

You say nothing because you know he isn’t loyal to you at all, and you’d rather not start another fight tonight.

You say nothing because there is nothing here to fight for.

You say nothing as he falls asleep in your arms, and you see his phone light up with a text.

jaemin: yo so is your friend single

163 notes · View notes

rhey-007 · 1 year ago

Text

The Family Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x reader x Pierre Gasly

Summary: Agreeing to do Charles a favor turns into hell when you meet his family for the first time and proceed to spend Christmas with them as his fake girlfriend.

(Based on "The Family Stone")

A/N: It's a LONG one just so y'know. I recently saw "The Family Stone" for the first time (LOVED IT, you have to watch it, I think I cried like 5 times lol) and an idea for this fic just randomly popped up in my brain shortly after. I've been writing this for past 2 weeks and finished it just yesterday. I hope you'll like it :)) I also wish everyone happy Christmas or whatever you're celebrating! 🎄🎉

Warnings/Tags: female reader, vegetarian reader, Atheist reader, toxic family, orphan reader - basically reader is op 😅, family fluff, toxic Pascale, mentions of sex

Wordcount: 9465

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You never thought you’d ever find yourself pretending to be Charles' girlfriend. Yet there you were, getting out of his car seeing his whole family curiously looking at you through the window. You’ve known the Monegasque for a few years already and befriended him almost immediately but never met his family. That’s why you were the first person who came to his mind when his mother mentioned bringing a girl over for Christmas. His family was tormenting him about a partner for too long, so to make them calm down he asked you for this favor, even offering you money which you didn’t accept.

The house Charles rented in Austria was quite big, big enough to accommodate the 9 of you. It was made out of wood, with a forest near by and a great view at the mountains. It literally took your breath away. Although you felt a little uneasy feeling six pairs of eyes as the two of you made your way to the door.

“Don’t let them walk over you... They might be a little... Possessive and overprotective of me...”

The man explained ringing the doorbell and soothing your back with a smile. You had to admit you felt a little nervous. Heck REALLY nervous. You've heard so many things about them on your way there, some positive and some negative. Well... Mostly negative, but just because Charles wanted you to get ready for the chaos.

“Charlie!”

His mother appeared in the door a few seconds after, hugging her precious baby tightly and shooting you a glare.

“Hi mom, this is Y/N. I told you she’ll join us”

Charles disclosed before you greeted his mother with a firm handshake. You walked inside, the man instantly helping you with your coat, then introduced you to the rest.

“Y/N those are my brothers Lorenzo and Arthur. This beauty is Carla, Arthur’s one and only. And last but not least - Carlos and his girlfriend Rebecca, family close friends. Guys this is Y/N”

You smiled cutely at the 5 and hugged them gently before Charles and Arthur left to get your suitcases and Carla showed you the room you would stay in.

“Is everything alright?”

The girl asked soon, noticing you playing with your fingers uneasily. You shook your head with a soft smile. You couldn’t tell her you expected to sleep in a different room than Charles, could you? You both would feel uncomfortable as you were just friends in reality, but maybe in this skit you had to commit to the role a little bit more.

In meanwhile Arthur initiated a conversation with his older brother about you, who didn’t really like it.

“Really? This is her?”

The younger one asked taking out your bag from the trunk.

“What do you mean?”

Charles huffed slowly getting angry. From his whole family Arthur always seemed the most tolerant, but what he was about to hear changed Charles’ opinion completely.

“Come on man! Can’t you see it?! She’s just a bimbo falling for you money!”

“What did you just say?”

The older growled gripping Arthur’s collar and pulling close to himself. The vain on his forehead was about to pop and his face was all red as his gaze pierced through his brother. No one could say such gross things about you, especially not in his presence.

“Don’t you dare disrespect her like that”

He hissed letting his brother go and walking back inside with your bag. After they brought them upstairs, Charles dismissed Carla and Arthur before closing the door and sighing heavily.

“Charles?...”

You said quietly, sitting on his bed and playing with the hem of your beige golf sweater. He turned around to you and sat down beside. His hand rested on your thigh soothing it gently while he looked at you with an asking expression.

“So uh... I-I was hoping for a room for my own... I-I don’t know like a guest room or something... If that’s not a problem of course...”

Bitting your lip softly you looked down and felt the man’s hand stop. Was he disappointed? Yes. Did he expect that? Also yes. He exhaled gripping your limb.

“I can sleep on the floor, it’s not a pro-”

“What! No! It’s your room. I should be the one sleeping on the floor if there’s no free one! ”

You cut him off and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I can ask mom. I’m sure we’ll find something free. Now come on, let’s go eat something”

You followed the man downstairs to the dining room where Pascale and Rebecca set the table. When you eagerly offered your help the older woman completely ignored you, she didn’t even know you well enough to draw conclusions but apparently she already drew them on the porch. You wondered why though. Were you dressed improperly? If you could even call a beige sweater and black jeans an improper outfit... Maybe it was your makeup that alienated her from you. But you only wore mascara, some soft blush and lip oil...

Maybe it was Charles. Too perfect to have and don’t have a second half. Or maybe it was just Pascale hoping he would bring home someone she knew, someone she hooked him up with. You had no idea but had to know to improve your image in the older woman’s eyes and play the role of her child’s girlfriend better.

Once the table was ready, everyone sat down and said a brief pray – even though you weren’t Chistian you respected their beliefs and joined in the little act. By the time everyone started to eat you noticed your portion was just the same as everyone else’s – meatballs in tomato sauce with delicious puree and caesar salad - although you made sure Charles informed his mother you were vegetarian. You decided not to inform her by the dinner table, instead wanting to talk about it later in the kitchen alone but the blonde initiated the conversation herself when she noticed you pushing the meat aside.

“Is something wrong?”

She asked to which you didn’t respond at first, too occupied by staring at the plate. Charles’ poke got you out of trance and made look at his mother.

“Oh! Uh... N-No, everything’s alright. Why?”

“You didn’t touch the meatballs...”

The woman furrowed her eyebrows while you shrunk in your seat.

“Well uh... I-I don’t eat meat-”

Pascale burst out laughing not letting you finish your sentence, her kids following with faint chuckles, except of Charles.

“Mom, I told you million times...”

“But I didn’t thought you were serious! That’s just ridiculous! How can you live without eating meat? No wonder you look so weak”

You looked back down at your plate, not wanting to argue with her. Her words and laugh hurt you a tad, but Charles warned you she might be critical.

“Look at me when I talk to you-”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you miss but that’s who I am and you’re not gonna change that. I’m sure the meat is tasty, just as the rest, but I won’t eat it nonetheless”

You snaped not being able to hold yourself back anymore. No woman should disrespect another woman. Your words brought a smile to Charles’ lips, he was proud of you for stepping up for yourself as you never really did that, always being a shy mouse.

“I'm also not Christian but respect your beliefs and joined in your pray. So it would only be fair if you respected my eating habits- Or what I should rather call eating disorder because I am in fact deathly allergic to meat”

Pascale scoffed as if she was offended by your statement.

“That's an absurd-“

“Mom can we talk? “

Charles cut in, pointing his head towards the kitchen as he stood up. The woman rolled her eyes and followed after her son.

“Who the hell did you brought!? A vegetarian. Not a Christian. Tell me she's also a man! Or maybe she is a widow, huh? Oh Charlie, Charlie... You could do way better... “

Pascale grabbed Charles’ arms and was about to shook him when he shrugged her hands off and took a step back.

“Don't. Don't touch me. I told you she's a vegetarian. I told you so many times but of course you didn't listen. Why do you have such a problem!? You don't even know her yet! You always told me you'll respect whoever I bring home, even a man, yet you deny your words now!”

“I just want the best for my little boy... “

“I'm not your little boy anymore! I'm a grown ass man and I'll date whoever I want. Either you like them or not. So deal with it! “

Charles hissed before leaving the kitchen and joining you back in the dining room. He huffed angrily, flopping down beside you and continuing to eat without a word. An uncomfortable silence fell since he left that lasted until the end of the meal.

You felt responsible for ruining the moods of Leclerc's, especially their mother, but what else were you supposed to do? You couldn’t let anyone disrespect you like that and laugh into your face for your beliefs. After the dinner you locked yourself up in Charles' room.

“Well... That went great... “

You sighed flopping down onto his bed and whining loudly.

“Yeah... Amazing... “

The Monegasque nodded sitting down beside you.

“I'm sorry... I should have said I'm just not hungry. Maybe she would’ve let it go earlier then”

You said turning to your side and looking up at him. Smiling down at you, he brushed your hair away from your face and gazed a little too long before responding.

“It's okay... She would have to find out sooner or later... I'm sorry too. Didn’t expect she would be so possessive already... “

Charles layed down and turned his head to you, his hand grabbing yours and squeezing it gently. If he knew his mother would be THAT critical he wouldn’t have taken you with him. He cared for you too much to want to see you hurt, but his mom was too impossible to foresee even for him to predict that. He just wished that after that week you would still like to be friends with him... Maybe even more if the situation settles down and everyone calms down.

“Go take a shower and relax a little... I'll go find some mattress and set everything up... It'll be better for you to stay here. We don’t want another fight do we? “

You chuckled a little shaking your head and got up. Although you still preffered to sleep in another room, you didn’t want another quarrel with Pascale.

“This is gonna be an interesting week... “

You said before disappearing into the bathroom, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts. How was he going to convince his family and friends to like you, when the head of his family already hated you? He had no idea but had to come up with something soon, or else the Christmas would be ruined.

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Next day an excited and loud array of voices woke you up. You grumbled turning your back to the door and looking down at the floor where Charles previously slept. The mattress he layed on now cold with sheets neatly displayed on top, which meant he must have left quite a long time ago. You got up hearing the man in question call you and rubbed your eyes softly while leaving the room. Stumbling down the stairs your eyes felt heavy and with one too long blink you found yourself falling down, someone catching you quickly before you hit the floor.

“Are you okay?”

A male voice said, hot breath fanning your face and a smell of fresh mint, cedarwood and cinnamon hit your nostrils. When you opened your eyes you noticed it wasn’t Charles who caught you, the Monegasque standing beside you and the stranger holding your arm firmly.

“I-I’m okay... I just woke up and uh... I-I'm sorry...”

You mumbled pulling away from the handsome man that held you, now able to take a better look at him. He was almost as tall as Charles, had blue hipnotizing eyes, full pink lips and a gorgeous smile.

“Y/N this is Pierre, another friend of the family”

Charles introduced you to one another as you shook your hands. You had to admit the man was really handsome, even more than your ‘boyfriend’, making your eyes unable to tear away from him. Pierre smirked noticing you stare at which you blushed softly and looked away sheepishly. If he had to be honest, if not Charles he would’ve try to pick you up right there and then. You were a really beautiful gal, your ginger hair looked so smooth the only thing he wanted was to play with them the whole day, your green eyes shined like if you had stars in them and the soft freckles across your face complimented them so well.

“Look who woke up... Our sleeping beauty...”

Pascale scoffed seeing the three of you walk into the kitchen.

“Welcome Pierre”

She cooed giving the man a tight hug and a kiss to his cheek. You figured he was like a son to her, actually her favourite child as you later found out.

“Long time no see ma. How have you been? You happy with Charlie’s new girlfriend?”

He teased looking at you at which you just rolled your eyes pouring yourself a cup of warm coffee and ignoring the older woman’s response.

“Oh her? Please... He could’ve done waaay better!”

“What, why? Y/N’s a really beautiful girl and I bet she’s smart too”

The French tried to defend you but it was useless.

“She’s vegetarian. Says she’s deathly allergic to meat but I feel like that’s just a lie... And she’s not Christian. Sooner or later she’ll make my little boy convert!”

She whispered to Pierre, loud enough for you to hear.

“That’s it? Oh good thing she’s not a man!”

He joked with a loud laugh before stepping away and joining everyone by the table. You enjoyed your dark liquid sitting by Charles, his arm wrapped around your waist squeezing it from time to time as he conversed with his siblings, Carlos and Pierre. You observed the group carefully, sometimes looking at Pascale.

From what you’ve caught Carlos and Rebecca seemed the most unproblematic, which didn’t mean they didn’t talk about you behind your back, Lorenzo was the quiet one, not really joining in the conversation prefering to read his book and eat in peace, while Pierre, Charles and Arthur were the triplets of chaos with Carla and Pascale being their tamers.

You didn’t fit in with that family at all, always feeling their judging stares on yourself especially with Charles glued to your side. But there was one gaze except of his that felt different. Pierre didn’t judge your every step, his eyes were full of either admiration or sympathy whenever you looked at him, always ready to help if you needed it.

Leclerc also noticed his best friend’s weird interest in you but as much as you didn’t care he did. He felt jealous seeing him watch you with heartful eyes, touch you whenever he had a chance, constantly talk to you, and you only knew each other for a day! Charles’ gut wrenched at those moments, wanting to tear the man apart.

But why did he care so much? You were just friends after all. But he didn’t consider you just a friend. You were more, his whole world, a person he couldn’t live without. He knew that since you’ve met, trying to find a perfect moment to confess his feelings, wanting to do this on Christmas Eve.

That was also another reason why he asked you to pretend his girlfriend in front of his family. But with Pierre on his way... It would be hard. Especially if you felt too comfortable with the French man and told him the truth, then he wouldn’t hold back anymore and wrap you around his finger immediately and Charles couldn’t let that happen.

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After yet another unpleasant dinner you left to pick a Christmas tree and finish up buying presents. It was a little tradition of Leclerc’s to pick the tree all together and you felt glad they wanted you to join them, at least Charles and Pierre did. You strode through the main square holding Charles’ hand and admiring the Christmas market.

Pierre walked by your other side, getting envious every time the Monegasque pressed a kiss to either part of your body or pulled you slightly away from him. He wished he could be the one to bring you to that beautiful place on a date, to have you all for himself, for you to be his... But you weren’t and instead Pierre had to pretend he was happy for you and his best friend and it was really hard at times.

“Come on kids! Faster! The queue is already forming!”

Pascale shouted from a few meters away as she turned around and saw your group getting distracted by the various stalls.

“Queue for what?”

You’ve asked the boys, confusion clearly painted on your face.

“Santa”

They responded in unison rushing you over to the rest.

“Santa? Aren’t you too old?”

“Naaah. We’re gonna get a family picture with him. It’s another of our traditions”

Pierre cleared out with a huge smile. As you waited the two men told you about and showed you every picture from previous years, making fun of little Arthur always crying sitting on Santa’s lap.

Tears slowly started to fill your eyes at the cute stories, but you’ve managed to blink them away quickly so neither men noticed them. You wished you could’ve had such a childhood, full of fun, family and love but you guessed it wasn’t meant to be. At least now you could have some fun, even though the majority of the family hated you.

When your turn came you positioned yourself freely, you stood on the right in front of the boys almost right next to Santa, but Pascale felt like something was wrong and started to rearrange everyone. Eventually Carlos, Rebecca and Lorenzo landed on the left, Arthur and Carla sat on the old man’s laps – just as always, she took your place in front of her two favourites and you stood next to Charles almost getting cut out of the picture.

Nonetheless the photo came out great and you were happy you received one of the copies. After meeting Santa you went to pick the tree and then everyone scattered to buy presents. Charles left with Pierre, the Spaniard with his girlfriend, Pascale with the youngest and you were left with Lorenzo.

“So uh... I-I guess we’re the only ones left...”

You muttered and the man nodded. You stood in the middle of the square in complete silence until he spoke up.

“Listen uh... I asked Charlie to leave us cause I wanted to talk with you. I hope you’re not mad...”

Lorenzo looked down and started to play with his finger nervously. You started to think of all the things he could want to talk with you about but what you were about to hear shocked you.

“Oh um... As long as you won’t offend me like the rest of your family does I won’t”

“I won’t. I promise. But- Can we go to a café?”

You agreed with a quiet sigh then followed the man. He brough you to a simple but full of Christmas atmosphere café and after you ordered some mulled wine and cookies he started.

“I wanted to talk about Charles...”

“What about him?”

The man hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling it.

“I’ve talked with him about you... I wanted to know what plans he has for the future and if he sees you there with him. He said he loves you so much that he would try his best to persuade mom to give him our grandma’s engagement ring after the holidays... I shouldn’t tell you this but I just need to know... Do you want to have a future with Charles or are you, what Arthur calls you, just a bimbo falling for his money?...”

Your face went pale at the information. You hoped Charles said it just for your skit to be more convincing but the way Lorenzo said it, all serious and without any emotions on his face, started to worry you. Trying to gather your thoughts your eyes closed and palms turned into tight fists, something you always did when thinking hard.

“Hey relax... I-It's just a question... I didn’t mean to stress you out...”

The oldest Leclerc grabbed your hands and rubbed his thumbs along them. It actually helped you relax and think of a suitable answer.

“I don’t get me wrong... I love your brother with my whole hear. I really do. But I can’t tell you if I’d say yes to his proposal. I usually don’t think about the future, just living in the moment y’know?”

Lorenzo nodded understandingly. It seemed like you’ve managed to convince him it was true, but started to feel bad for constantly lying to them, especially since Lori seemed like a really nice guy. You’ve chatted for some time when eventually he apologized for his actions.

“I also wanted to apologise for my behavior... I usually don’t act like that but as you might have noticed out mother's influence is too heavy. Nonetheless I know I did wrong offending you like the others and I'm sorry once again. Seeing my brother so happy while with you made me understand that he actually loves you and that you aren’t as bad as mom is painting you... I hope you'll be able to forgive me one day... “

You smiled softly at the man and his genuine apology. You were really glad that at least one of them apologized to you and couldn’t be mad at him.

“It's okay I forgive you”

While you conversed, Pierre and Charles run around the square looking for a perfect gift for you.

“Oh man... Couldn’t you buy something in Monaco?!”

The Frenchman sighed as they entered yet another store. This time it was a jeweler full of gorgeous sets and classy watches.

“You know well I had no time. Besides, I don’t even know what she likes. I specifically insisted on entering the market from this alley so I could see if her eyes would shine after she notices something-”

“But they didn’t. How can you not know what she likes!? She’s your girlfriend!”

“I’m not sure, okay? I want it to be something unique”

Pierre nodded and soon they started to look for something that would match your vibe. Finally the Frenchman chose a gentle, soft pink butterfly set he noticed you look at as you passed the store, later surprised Charles didn’t notice it too, while the Monegasque opted for something more bold – a silver necklace with an emerald and matching earrings. Now they just had to choose which one Charles was going to buy.

“The green matches her eyes and hair”

“But it’s too heavy for her. The butterflies perfectly match her gentle aura”

“But they’re so small and light you wouldn’t see them on her fair skin...”

Eventually Charles bought what he choose himself. Little did he know that the next day Pierre came back to buy you the set he picked. He was a 100% sure you would like his present way more than Charles’.

Was it weird he bought such an expensive gift for his best friend’s girlfriend? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less. It was the only way for him to please you. He also bought a bottle of vanilla latte perfumes as the smell reminded him of you.

If he could, he would’ve showered you in presents, luxurious gowns from the most expensive boutiques of the world, crown jewels, multiple cars... But you weren’t his, not yet.

The man felt the weird dynamic between you and Charles, it seemed like he was the only one who noticed it. Maybe you two were acting like the sweetest couple ever, madly in love with each other, but you weren’t going to fool him.

He noticed how awkward you could be whenever Charles kissed you and you never kissed on the lips, he was also the only one giving kisses, your lips never touched any part of his skin. Neither did you remember some of the most important things about the Monegasque even though he had no problem remembering yours. Pierre knew there was something going on and he was about to find out soon.

When the boys found you and Lorenzo the four of you met up with the rest in one of the main square's restaurant. You expected something expensive and exclusive as Charles usually insisted on eating out in such restaurants but walking into the premise, a warm, family atmosphere hit you.

You actually enjoyed this little change and the comfortable place itself. You took a place by a long table, Pascale and Charles on either end like the heads of the family, even though it was Lorenzo who was the oldest brother. Through time you've noticed that the quietest Leclerc was often ignored or left out, so you weren’t surprised when Charles took what should’ve been Lori's place.

While you awaited your meals, a little boy around 4 years old run up to your table with a basket of cutlery and a piece of paper with a pen on top. He handed the basket to Charles then pointed at the paper and pen. The man chuckled and signed the paper then gave it to the boy after ruffling his hair. You smiled brightly at their little encounter. When the boy was about to run away a waitress, probably his mother, stopped him and turned him around.

“Honey what do we say? “

They made their way back to your table and the little boy quickly thanked Charles before running off.

“I'm sorry, he's a little shy”

The woman explained bringing your group the food you ordered. She was tall and beautiful, had long blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, seemed around your age and clearly caught Charles' eye. It wasn’t like he immediately fell in lover with her, but he did find her attractive. She was a perfect match for him in Pascale’s eyes and she couldn’t care less that she had a kid already.

Throughout the whole dinner Pascale talked the young woman and her son up, inviting them to eat with you which the blonde had to deny due to her being at work but let her little boy join you. Soon Leo opened up and turned out to be a bubble of joy. He sat on Charles' lap eventually moving to yours when Leclerc had to use the bathroom. That’s when Pascale asked.

“So Y/N. Are you thinking of having kids with Charles? “

You choked on your drink hearing the question. Putting the glass away you coughed a little before responding.

“Well uh... I-I don't want to have kids... I'm not really a fan of them... And I'm sure pregnancy is a beautiful thing but it just scares me too much... “

The blonde laughed. She always laughed into your face when you talked about your beliefs and you slowly couldn’t stand it.

“Oh you're funny. Charles wants to have a lot of kids so it's not like you have a choice. You'll change your mind when he gets you pregnant “

“I'm sure you would love that”

You mumbled under your nose sarcastically knowing well she'd rather die than let her son have kids with you.

“It's her body and her choice mom. If she doesn’t want to have kids I'm not gonna maker her”

Charles said as he overheard a bit of your conversation. His hand squeezed your arm reassuringly. He would never make you do something you didn’t want to.

“Then you should change her for a new model! I want to have grandkids! Leo's mom is a really nice woman. Perfect for you and already has a kid so it wouldn’t be a problem for her to have more “

“Mom”

Charles sighed heavily rubbing his forehead, his hand moving to your lap and soothing it. He felt how tense and angry you were even though you didn’t show it.

“What? I'm just saying the truth-“

“You're just ruining the atmosphere. Y/N is a perfect girl for our Charlie and you should not care if she's a vegetarian, an atheist, a red head, doesn’t want to have kids, etc. etc. What matters is that she loves him and he feels happy with her”

Lorenzo stepped in getting annoyed by his mother. He had enough of her critical opinions about you as you really weren’t that bad.

“And you, Brutus, against me? “

Pascale gasped at her oldest talking back for the first time.

“Yes. I have enough of you talking bad about Y/N. We all have, as it is the only topic you seem to care about. It’s Christmas we should act like a normal, happy family we are and be glad that Charles joined us at all and not criticize his girlfriend”

“Lori's right... You went too far... “

Pierre added quietly. The rest of the dinner Pascale was quiet. She felt sad after her kids words but didn’t feel bad after hers.

Back at home the boys apologized for being so harsh and made up with their mother, but it wasn’t like she was going to be nicer to you.

“I'm sorry for today... “

Charles mumbled handing you a cup of hot cocoa with some vodka and joining you on the couch. You snuggled next to him and thanked for the liquid, then said after taking a sip.

“It's okay I understand it... She would never like me... Good think it's going to end soon... “

You whispered the last sentence loud enough for only Charles to hear, even though you were the only ones awake. Or so you thought. Leclerc wasn’t the only one that heard you. A few seconds earlier Pierre made his way down stairs to have some water and he overheard your short conversation. At first his heart ached as he noticed you two on the couch, getting jealous it wasn’t him instead of Charles, but then the knot loosened after what you've said.

“It's going to end soon”

He started to slowly connect the dots which were a good omen for him. On the other hand, Charles felt sad. He didn’t want this to end, never. The man hoped that he'd manage to make you fall in love with him in those 2 days, although you didn’t seem to change your thoughts about him yet. He had to try harder. That night you fell asleep in his arms, he took you to your shared room and layed with you on the bed. He was shocked but at the same time glad that you didn’t wake up and make him sleep on the floor.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Waking up to finding yourself on top of Charles wasn’t the best experience. You didn’t remember much from the previous night and started to worry that something happened between you two.

For the rest of the day you tried to ignore him as best as you could, which made Pascale happy. She hoped that after your previous day's conversation, you had a talk or maybe even a quarrel with her son that slowly led to your breakup. It was difficult though. It was the Christmas Eve after all and everyone had some chores to do, sometimes landing you with him to do something or just constantly passing him by.

You didn’t intend on blowing up by the Christmas table but this time Pascale started to offend your family. A family that died in a car accident when you were little, the view of firefighters putting out the burning crashed car as you sat int the ambulance and watched everything engraved in your brain, hunting you almost each night. That was another reason why you agreed to Charles’ request. You wanted to finally spend Christmas with a family in a pleasant atmosphere. But it wasn’t given to you...

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! “

You shot up from your place and shouted on top of your lungs at the blonde.

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE SUCH AN ALIEN! “

“I'M AN ALIEN?! LOOK AT YOURSELF! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING TO YOU BUT YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE A BITCH! ALL OF YOU DO! I REGRET AGREEING TO EVEN COME HERE! NOT MENTIONING SPENDING ALMOST THE WHOLE WEEK WITH YOU! FUCK IT I'M GOING HOME TOMORROW. I PREFER TO SPEND THE CHRISTMAS ALONE THAN WITH YOU! “

“GREAT! LEAVE AND NEVER EVER COME BACK YOU SLUT! “

You left the dining room in tears, quickly put on your coat and run out of the house. Pierre rushed after you while Charles and Lorenzo started to fight with their mother.

Pierre hopped into his car and quickly drove up to you. He softly honked at you a few times while calling your name.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

You shouted after stopping, mascara mixed with tears falling down your cheeks, hair disheveled and body trembling as you wore only your thigh length, red, sequin dress under the coat.

“Come in, please... You're freezing... “

After a few minutes of convincing, you got into the car and Pierre drove away.

“Where are you taking me?... “

You asked quietly, from time to time sniffling.

“Somewhere we can chill out in”

He explained squeezing your covered thigh. After you entered the vehicle he immediately took off his jacket and put it on your legs then planted his palm on your limb to assure you everything was going to be alright. Pierre parked his car in front of a bar then helped you out and inside. You ordered some drinks and filled one of the booths before chugging one after another. That's what you needed, to get drunk and forget about everything.

“Your family is hell... How do you even stand them!? “

You mumbled out with a hiccup. Your head was propped on your hand with the elbow on the table, you looked terrible, a wreck of a woman, but to Pierre you've looked more beautiful than ever. He was more than happy to have this little moment with you, even if it was supposed to end soon with you passing out. A thing he didn’t knew was that you had a really strong head and you were just a little tipsy after 3 drinks and 2 beers.

“I don’t know either... They're usually not that bad... I don’t know what happened this time”

“I happened. You can’t deny it... They just hate me for nothing and I can’t stand it anymore! “

Your free hand hit the table almost spilling your 3rd beer.

“Yeah I've noticed”

The man chuckled while you huffed unamused, your brows furrowing.

“It's funny to you? “

You hissed at which he shook his head.

“Maybe a little... “

Pierre admitted making you hit his head with a beer cap. He laughed once again this time getting one out of you too. Soon you got really comfortable with him and did what Charles feared the most.

“You know... There's something I want to tell you... “

“I'm listening”

“I'm... I'm not actually Charles’ girlfriend... We're just best friends and he asked me to come with him so you would stop asking him about a second half... Guess that didn’t turn out as he wished it would... “

You sighed melting into the couch. The man was silent for a while before he stood up and sat next to you.

“Then... You won’t be mad if I do this?... “

Looking up at him confused you felt his palm capture your chin and his finger brush along your bottom lip while gazing lovingly and deeply into your eyes. Before you could say something he connected your lips in a soft kiss, giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead straddling his lap and deepening the kiss. It might have been because of the alcohol, or just because of your mutual attraction that you soon found yourself naked in the back of his car, getting marked and taken great care of. It felt bad but oh so good... By midnight you came back home and continued your sinful ministrations in his bedroom.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Waking up on the first day of Christmas by his side you finally felt like you belonged there, belonged to the family, belonged to him. You weren’t scared, weirded out nor uncomfortable, not like with Charles. You felt as if Pierre was the one thing that was missing in your life.

“Morning... “

Soon you could hear him mumble. You looked up with a soft smile and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Will you drive me back home?... I'm not sure I'll be able to look Charles in the eyes after yesterday... “

You sighed resting your chin on top of his chest and played with it's hair. Pierre raised his eyebrow at you, a slightly sad expression forming on his face.

“You didn’t... Enjoy it?”

He whispered at which you shook your head.

“No, no. I enjoyed it, I really did but... I don’t know... It felt a bit wrong... “

You looked away with a sigh thinking of Charles’ reaction if he found out what you two were up to the previous night. He would've been furious with both of you most probably starting a fight and setting the house on fire and neither of you would like that.

“Stay... Just for the breakfast... And I'll drive you home in the afternoon. You still have presents to give us don’t you? “

Pierre started to rub your back and draw patterns on it, trying to calm you down and make relaxed once again.

“I'm sure you wouldn’t like them... Besides Charles can give them to you-”

“But I want to receive it from you. Not from Charles. Not from Lorenzo. From you. Please... Stay... For me... “

Looking into his eyes you saw the sparkles and hearts once again, your heart melting at the sight. You exhaled and agreed reluctantly. That family was going to be the end of you... You were about to get up and start getting dressed when Lorenzo knocked on the door and walked in right after.

“Pierre where's Y/N-“

You hid your bare chest from his view and pulled away from Pierre but was unable to say anything when Lorenzo quickly left and shut the door.

“Fuck. We're fucked. Oh my god that was a bad idea”

You rumbled while getting dressed in the speed of light. When you shot out of Gasly's room you bumped into Leclerc, patiently waiting for you to leave.

“Lori I-“

“Shhh... It's not your fault. You let him fool yourself, but it’s no wonder considering the situation you’re in. I don’t blame you and won’t tell anyone. Now, go make yourself presentable. We don’t want mom to see you like this do we? “

The man placed a kiss on top of your head before rushing you away. You were really confused with his reaction but glad as fuck that he didn’t immediately run to Charles to tell him. After you walked away, Lorenzo stormed into Pierre's room.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! “

Lorenzo tried to throw a punch straight to Gasly's face but due to being way weaker, the Frenchman easily stopped him pinning him down on the bed.

“Calm down and shut up”

He hissed before releasing Leclerc.

“Are you crazy?! She's Charlie’s girlfriend! He's your bestfriend! Your family! “

Pierre rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He knew well that what you did was wrong but he didn’t feel bad. Quite the contrary. He felt like on cloud 9 after spending the night with you. Not only because you had sex but because you could finally be alone. Just the two of you. No Pascale. No Charles. Just Y/N and Pierre.

In meanwhile you passed Pascale on the corridor. Of course she wasn’t happy to see you in the morning, but thankfully didn’t pay attention to your tired and disheveled state. Neither did the woman notice you leave Pierre’s room earlier.

“What are you still doing here? “

Turning around on your heel you took a deep breath and started.

“I decided to stay until tomorrow morning. Just for Charles. And I sincerely apologize for my yesterdays manners. I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that but your own actions aren’t the best either. I’m sorry once again “

The woman looked you up and down in complete silence before walking away without a word. The only thing she could admit she liked about you was that you were able to apologize and admit your mistakes, not like herself.

“Where were you?”

Charles asked as you quietly entered your shared room, hoping you wouldn’t wake him up but he was up all night.

“I’ve tried to reach you and Pierre the whole night. Where. Were. You. “

The man got up from the bed and slowly walked up to you, caging you between the door and himself.

“Pierre took me to a bar... We’ve spent there the whole night and came back like 2 hours ago... “

You gulped looking up at the man. Good thing you went to the bathroom and corrected your appearance before going in there or you would've been in way more trouble. Charles sighed, his hands capturing yours and squeezing them gently.

“I was looking for you everywhere... You don’t even know how worried I was... I know you were angry but you could’ve at least let me know you’re alright... Or make Pierre call me... “

One of his hands brushed your cheek as his eyes averted between yours and your pink lips. Charles wanted to kiss you so bad but figured you could be still mad and decided otherwise. Plus he was still furious at Pierre taking you somewhere without his knowledge, and if you blew up he would blow up too. Then knowing your both’s tempers the whole house would be on fire with Pascale and Arthur constantly adding gasoline.

“I know... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s just that... I couldn’t stand it anymore... I want to go home...”

A single tear fell down your cheek which Charles quickly kissed away. He hated to see you in that state, but what he hated even more was that he was the one who caused it. If he hadn’t asked you for that favor, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He was a shitty bestfriend.

“I love her okay? I just... I just can’t help it... “

Pierre blurted out making Lorenzo shut up and look at him in disbelief. He couldn’t believe in the Frenchman.

“You- WHAT?! “

The Monegasque threw himself at Pierre, a fight unraveling between the two, destroying almost the whole room before they flew out of it through the door, landing on the floor with a loud thump. The noise caught everyone’s attention, saving you from the too uncomfortable conversation with Charles.

“Oh my god boys!”

Pascale tried to push them away from each other before getting shooed over by Carlos and Arthur, so she wouldn’t accidentally get hurt, who stopped the fight. Lorenzo wriggled in his younger brother’s arms angrily, blood running down his nose while Pierre already calmed down a little and touched his black eye gently.

“What have you done!?”

Pascale shouted at you with anger in her eyes. Sure the fight was about you but it’s not like you caused it... Maybe not entirely but still.

“Why do you already accuse me?! I wasn’t even there! I was with Charles!”

The middle Leclerc nodded confirmingly while his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you close in a protective manner. Pierre wanted to vomit at the sight, blood boiled in his vains and he was ready to start another fight this time with Charles but knew better than that. The man just wanted the Christmas to be over so he could finally take you out somewhere and spend some time with you in a normal, nice atmosphere. Without Charles, without Lorenzo, without his family. Just you and him. Together.

“But I’m sure it’s your fault! My boys aren’t my boys anymore since you’ve showed up here! You’ve ruined them! “

You were ready to throw a punch at her and you would’ve done that if not her whole family watching you. Instead you just kept rushing Lorenzo to the bathroom to help him with his nose and talk about the fight.

“I did not expect this from you...”

You huffed angrily, sitting him down on a stool in front of you.

“This is a house of fucking madmen...”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry... But when Pierre disrespected my little brother like that I just couldn’t hold it in anymore...”

The man sighed looking up at you with those big, brown puppy eyes of his. You softly shook your head before proceeding to wipe the blood away from underneath his nose.

“I think... I need to tell you something. You just... Need to stay calm okay?”

“I don’t like where this is going...”

“I know you love your brother with your whole heart and think I’m the best lady he could have but... This is all a lie... We’re not together... We’re just best friends... He asked me to join you because he had enough of constant questions about the other half and hoped bringing me with himself would solve it... But it didn’t. Instead making even more chaos...”

You said on one breath then watched Lori’s face for any signs of his reaction. The man was quiet for a longer time before finally speaking.

“Oh... That's... That’s a pity... And... And I started to get so happy you would be my sister in law... I’m sorry that’s- that’s just stupid”

The Monegasque stood up and was about to leave when you grabbed his shoulders and sat him back down. You embraced him in a warm hug and gave a gentle kiss to his head.

“I may not be your sister in law but you can always count on me. No matter what. You’re like a brother I’ve never had, Lori”

“Stop it or I’m gonna cry...”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck while hugging you back. He felt sad that you and Charles weren’t actually together and was sorry for his brother due to his apparent attraction to you and your obliviousness.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🎄˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“This morning started just incredibly...”

Pascale sighed as she sat down in her armchair in the living room. The whole group already after breakfast now waiting for Lorenzo, who was still with you, to join them so they could unpack their presents. The atmosphere was dense, you could cut it with a knife, yet you still decided to give them your presents first to have it over already. You walked down the stairs with Lorenzo, both holding a few bags, then entered the quiet living room. Taking a deep breath you started your monologue while the Monegasque handed out your gifts.

“I know you have enough of me already, so you can do whatever you want with those. Sell them. Throw them away. Heck even burn them! I don’t care. I just wanted to say sorry that I ruined your Christmas and hopefully next year everything would be way better. Without me of course. Coming here I was hoping for an enjoyable, family Christmas – one that I haven’t had since I was five, when my parents died. But it turned out how it turned out and honestly... In contrast to what I’ve said yesterday – I don’t regret joining you. I am just crazy and this was fun. You can open those now”

With that said you let them open the gifts. Each one of them received a different, knitted by you, Christmas sweater. You once saw a really old family photo at Charles’, one where his father was still alive and Arthur was just a little baby. Everyone was dressed in sweaters like those, with huge smiles on their faces and you hoped to recreate that moment before you came there.

You’ve tried your best to freshen out their designs while keeping the overall vibe of each piece, spending a lot of time on making them without Charles’ knowledge. Now you couldn’t care less.

But seeing their reactions, especially Pascale’s, made your heart break in half. The older woman started to cry, the rest following after. Some just sniffling like Pierre or Charles, too manly to show any emotions. Some cried their eyes out like Arthur and the older woman, which shocked you a lot. You looked confused between them before Carlos spoke up.

“Herve used to make such sweaters for us every Christmas... Then took million photos of us wearing them, proud of his opus... We haven’t worn such sweaters for Christmas every since his death... Thank you Y/N... It’s the best gif we could’ve ever receive”

The man got up hugging you tightly, Rebecca and Lorenzo following shortly after.

“It even looks like my first one...”

Arthur blurted out, almost choking on his tears as he looked down at the piece then back at you.

“Thank you...”

“I... I had no idea...”

You mumbled out. Your heart melted at the view and you were more than pleased that they loved them.

“I’m sorry...”

Soon you heard Pascale whisper through tears. You smiled softly and crouched down in front of her embracing her in a warm hug. The woman didn’t say anything instead hiding her face in your shoulder. You held her like that for a longer time, not saying a word not wanting to startle her, as the whole family watched with huge smiles. When she pulled away you wiped her tears away and helped her put on the sweater.

“It’s beautiful... Thank you...”

The older woman said quietly, while looking down. She was too ashamed to look into your eyes. After receiving your gift she finally understood that you tried your best to fit into their family, not trying to impose your views on them which she accused you of.

She understood her behaviour towards you was horrible and undeserved as you didn’t do anything bad to her nor her son. Quite the contrary. You seemed to make Charles even more happier than he was.

The death of her husband and constant thought of loosing her children too changed her so much she didn’t even realise she started to be toxic. And it wasn’t only to you. Earlier she was critical of every previous girlfriend that any of her sons brought home, but she was just terrible to you and nothing could justify her doings. But your heart was too big to not forgive her after her apology. You felt it was sincere and even shed a tear before hugging her once again.

After you had your little moment with Pascale, Charles got up and announced.

“Well... I guess I should say sorry too. To all of you. For lying straight into your faces... We’re actually not together with Y/N. I just wanted you to fuck off from my love life, that’s why I brought her... I’m sorry once again... “

The whole family forgave him immediately, actually being a little sad it all was a lie as they saw the fire in Charles’ eyes whenever he looked at you.

“Tell her...”

Lorenzo tried to persuade his younger brother quietly, earning a confused look from you and Pascale.

“Tell me what?”

You asked soon, too impatient to wait. You watched the man make his way over to you and sit down beside you on the floor. He captured your hands in his and gave each a sweet kiss before confessing his love.

“I love you Y/N L/N. I always did... Since we’ve met I knew you were the one for me... I can’t live without you. Without your smile. Without your laugh. Those beautiful green eyes... I just- Will you be my girlfirend? This time for real?...”

Feeling uneasy with what you’ve just heard and all the eyes watching you, you looked at Pierre hoping he’d help you. He was hurt and scared you would say yes, making your eyes water.

“No you can’t- You can’t be in love with me... That’s a joke right? Please tell me it’s a joke”

Shaking your head you felt tears spill down your cheeks and an awkward chuckle escaped your lips. It was all too much for one day.

“It’s not like I haven’t been humiliated enough...”

You stood up from your place and was about to leave when Charles caught your hand and stopped you.

“Y/N I’m serious”

“Serious!? Nothing in this house- this family, is serious! You all hate me for stupidest things ever and you dare to say you’re serious!?”

You hissed, emotions steering inside of you, slowly spilling out.

“We don’t hate you...”

Arthur said but you knew better.

“OH REALLY?! And you of all people say that. Y/N this... Y/N that... A bimbo. A heathen. A leafhead! That’s what you all think of me... You think I’m not good enough for your Lord Perceval... And I don’t want to be! I’m an alien who ruined your Christmas and then slept with Pierre!”

You shouted out without realising what you’ve just said.

“What?”

Charles confused question made you comprehend your words and cover your mouth with your hands in shock. The room felt silent, only the faint sound of clock ticking could be heard until the middle Leclerc launched himself at Gasly.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

“Not again!”

Pierre shouted as they dropped out the door, this time the front ones, onto the cold and wet snow. The other men tried to get them away from one another, each failing getting hurt in proces.

“You motherfucker how could you! You’re my best friend and you fucked the girl you knew well I love!”

Soon Leclerc straddled Pierre, palms tightly wrapped around his neck trying to choke him. You’ve never seen Charles so mad, which only confirmed his words that he indeed loved you. Otherwise he wouldn’t try to kill his bestie. Finally, after the 7 of you managed to pull them away you wanted to sink into the ground and die.

“You hate me now, don’t you?”

You asked quietly, entering the room you previously shared with Charles. The Monegasque sat on the bed and gazed at something way before you came there, not moving an inch even after you sat down next to him.

“I'm sorry-“

“I should’ve told you a long time ago... “

“But it my answer would've been no different... I love you Charles, but as a brother and nothing will change that. I'm sorry... “

The man layed down and placed his head on your legs as you started to play with his hair. You've talked for a long time eventually understanding each other's feelings and that nothing would come out of it.

With time and your help, Charles has managed to move on from you. Exactly a year later, you met at the same house once again, this time in a slightly changed composition.

Charles burst in with Leo in his arms and Kate following shortly after. They greeted everyone before finally walking up to you and Pierre.

“We have a little surprise... “

You bit your lip out of excitement while Pierre lifted up his last year's sweater from tour belly revealing a baby bump.

“We think of naming him Perceval”

The Frenchman teased as Leclerc gazed at you in disbelief and excitement.

“Oh you have to call him Charles or Charlie. You owe me that! “

He joked with a loud chuckled, secretly hoping you actually would do that.

"I thought you didn't want to have kids"

Kate asked. You gazed up at Pierre with a loving look them averted your eyes back to Charles and his new girlfriend.

"I think I'm ready"

You never thought that agreeing to help your best friend would change your life 360 degrees. Yet there you were, just a year later, finally accepted in the family, carrying it's another member. You couldn’t have wished for better holidays...

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fractualized · 4 months ago

Note

Could you give me any Batman comic(/series) recommendations? Or Joker ones?

(You can pretend I’ve never read any Batman comics)

Man, this got me thinking about (1) the number of extended storylines I still haven't fully read myself and (2) of the ones I have, would I recommend that people read them?? Tough question! Thinking about it in terms of a Batman newbie changes things too... 🤔

Ultimately, my list is mostly one-offs apart from the mainline series, but there's a few multi-issue mainline stories in there. From oldest to newest:

Batman (1940) #1, "The Joker" and "The Joker Returns" — Early comics can feel inaccessible because of their age, but I would still recommend checking out the start of Batman and Joker's relationship for a sense of the longevity and evolution of these characters (You could also read Batman's first appearance in Detective Comics [1937] #27.)

Batman (1940) #251, "The Joker's Five-Way Revenge" — Jumping ahead thirty years! After a 4-year absence from comics, Joker returns, and I just love how his dynamic with Batman picks up where they left off like it was yesterday.

Detective Comics (1937) #475, "The Laughing Fish" — The infamous story in which Joker's mad scheme is to… copyright fish.

The Dark Knight Returns #1-4 — TBH, I'm not a fan of TDKR for various reasons. However, it had a huge influence on Batman and you should read it at least once.

Batman (1940) #404-407, "Batman: Year One" — More required reading (but I do enjoy it more than TDKR). Frank Miller's problematique is more acknowledged today, but as I said, modern Batman stems from his work.

The Killing Joke — Controversial-ish recommendation nowadays, considering the much-maligned choice to fridge Barbara Gordon, but I still enjoy the nuance it gives Joker and the meta element of the ending, with Bruce and Joker trapped in their cycle by choices that are informed by the needs of the franchise. Alan Moore may no longer care for it, but I do! (Also, I'd say read it with the original coloring.)

Batman (1940) #426-429, "A Death in the Family" — Another big event in Batman lore: the death of Jason Todd. It's one of those moments that gets flattened in various ways today, so I think it's important to see how everything actually played out. In particular, it's striking to see that Joker is initially nervous about Batman finding out what he did, and just how Bruce struggles with his no-kill principle.

Batman #450-451, "Wildcard!" and "Judgements!" — Joker's big return after Jason's murder, in which we see he's still not all that giddy about it.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #65-68, "Going Sane" — This story takes place earlier in Batman's career, before Robin. When Joker seemingly kills Batman, he tries to start a new life without his instability breaking through. Meanwhile, Bruce recovers from his near-death in a little town in the middle of nowhere and thinks he might actually stay there… but he's plagued by restlessness too.

Joker: Devil's Advocate — Joker winds up on death row, but for a crime he didn't commit! Bruce is set on proving Joker's innocence despite the clown's other sins, and Joker is too captivated by all the media attention to help save his own hide.

Deathstroke (1991) #58, "Bad Blood" — A story in which Joker causes plenty of chaos, but in service of doing something… nice?

Batman: Ego — As Bruce contemplates giving up his crusade, he falls into an argument with… Batman.

Batman (1940) #648-650, "All They Do Is Watch Us Kill" — Part of Under the Red Hood. Jason Todd's reappearance in Gotham City comes to a head when he kidnaps Joker and draws Batman in for a dire confrontation.

Detective Comics (1937) #826, "Slayride" — Paul Dini is one of the writers who consistently remembers Joker has a personality and makes him funny, and this Christmas-time story featuring Tim Drake is a great example.

Batman Confidential #7-12, "Lovers and Madmen" — An alternative origin for Joker. Bruce has been fighting crime for about a year when he encounters a bloody crime scene that he can't make sense of. Meanwhile, the culprit, Jack, is growing bored with his criminal life, until he comes face to face with a vigilante bat.

Batman 80-Page Giant 2010 (Volume 2), "Reality Check" — Is Joker really crazy? Does Joker himself even know?

Batman (2011) #13-17, "Death of the Family" — Not to be confused with "A Death in the Family." Joker tries to convince Batman that all his sidekicks make him weak.

Batman (2011) #23.1, "Time to Monkey Shine" — Joker infamously adopts a gorilla. (It ends badly.)

Batman (2011) #35-40, "Endgame" — After Joker's failure in DOTF, he decides to bring his conflict with Batman to a close.

The Joker Presents: A Puzzlebox #1-7 — The Riddler is dead, but what really happened? A heist story in which the point of view is passed around multiple rogues, but Joker is the ringleader.

Catwoman: Lonely City #1-4 — Alright, this one does revolve around Selina, but the story is deeply tied to her relationship with Bruce and what she comes to understand about him in the end. (And Joker plays a brief but key part!)

Batman & The Joker: The Deadly Duo #1-7 — A recent team-up that calls back to everything I've personally enjoyed about Batman and Joker's dynamic.

Batman: City of Madness #1-3 — Beneath Gotham lies Gotham Below, from which a monstrous mirror of Batman escapes in search of a Robin. In his pursuit, Bruce confronts not only alternative versions of his rogues but his personal demons.

#batman #joker #dc comics #comic recs #ask #anonymous

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nitrateglow · 1 month ago

Text

Favorite films discovered in 2024

This year, I focused more on rewatching films I hadn't seen in a long time rather than racking up new titles. However, I still encountered plenty of new faves, many of them movies that have been on my watchlist for years. Here are the top twenty.

But first, some interesting patterns in this year's list...

Most represented decade: 1960s

Earliest film represented: 1932

Newest film represented: 1999

Creatives who show up more than once: Robert Mulligan, Walter Matthau, Boris Karloff

The Window (dir. Ted Tetzlaff, 1949)

A young boy (Bobby Driscoll) living in a squalid NYC apartment building witnesses his neighbors (Paul Stewart and Ruth Roman) committing a murder. Unfortunately, the kid's penchant for tall tales prevent anyone from believing him-- except for the killers, eager to alleviate themselves of an inconvenient witness.

Precious few thrillers earn the moniker “Hitchcockian” as well as this intense little gem from RKO. The Hitchcock vibes make sense when you consider Hitchcock’s cinematographer from Notorious was in the director’s chair and the source material was written by Cornell Woolrich, also responsible for the short story behind Rear Window. Augmented by on-location photography of New York City and a grimy, desolate sense of urban decay, The Window is both a great suspense yarn and classic film noir. Despite having a kid for a lead character, the film pulls no punches: both its small-time crook villains and the city setting feel palpably dangerous.

My Neighbors the Yamadas (dir. Isao Takahata, 1999)

The Yamadas, an average middle-class Japanese family, navigate the perils of sharing a television set, a kid going missing during a shopping trip, awkward wedding speeches, and other misadventures.

Between the original Studio Ghibli directorial duo of Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata, Miyazaki will always be the more popular filmmaker, but I think Takahata’s films are more intellectually and emotionally rewarding. This is not meant as a hit on Miyazaki’s undeniable greatness, but Takahata’s movies are far more challenging. That being said, My Neighbors the Yamadas is a lighter entry in his filmography, a slice of life comedy about the eponymous family and their shenanigans in modern Japan. However, beneath the whimsical humor runs an undercurrent of melancholy, an awareness of the transience of life in both its lovely and absurd moments. To date, it gets my vote for the most underrated Ghibli film.

A New Leaf (dir. Elaine May, 1971)

After squandering his ample inheritance, a middle-aged New York layabout (Walter Matthau) decides to marry an eccentric botanist (Elaine May) for her money then murder her ASAP.

Elaine May only directed a few films, but the two I’ve seen—this and the long-maligned Ishtar—were a lot of fun. A New Leaf is the better film though, far more focused and consistently funny. I don't usually belly laugh when watching a movie at home alone, but I did several times here. Even just thinking about some of the things that happen in this film can make me start laughing again. I understand the existing version was not May’s preferred cut and she felt it was butchered by the studio. Even so, this is a great movie regardless of that and one I really want to rewatch soon.

Cash on Demand (dir. Quentin Lawrence, 1961)

Uptight, unpleasant bank manager Harry Fordyce (Peter Cushing) is the boss from hell to his employees, but to criminal extraordinaire Gore Hepburn (Andre Morrel), he's the key to a successful heist. Posing as an insurance representative to get access to Fordyce's office, Hepburn tells the manager he's holding his wife and child, whose lives will be forfeit if he doesn't help him relieve the bank of ninety thousand pounds.

Ho, ho, ho, guess who's got a new Christmas classic to enjoy every year? Cash on Demand is not only a strangely enervating riff on A Christmas Carol's basic set-up (a miserable man is spiritually redeemed through an encounter with ghosts-- or in this case, bank robbers), but it's one of the best, tightest one-location thrillers I have ever seen. I genuinely had no idea where the story was going and found myself in absolute agony as the noose grew tighter around our protagonist's neck. It's a testament to both the writing and Peter Cushing's detailed, very human performance that this film is the emotionally powerful piece of work that it is, and not just a fun, clockwork heist yarn.

Letter from an Unknown Woman (dir. Max Ophuls, 1948)

While trying to evade a duel, an aging playboy (Louis Jordan) receives a letter from a dying woman (Joan Fontaine) who claims he was the love of her life. The letter recounts the details of their love affair, which was the centerpiece of this woman's life and only a mere erotic interlude in his.

The best way to describe this movie is lush romantic melodrama married to a bitter, emotionally brutal tale of a life wasted. The movie is heartbreaking but beautifully shot and performed. I’m not always the biggest fan of Fontaine, but she is fantastic here. Also, I need to watch more Max Ophuls.

Sudden Fear (dir. David Miller, 1952)

A middle-aged playwright (Joan Crawford) thinks she’s found love with a would-be matinee idol (Jack Palance)—instead she realizes she’s being targeted by her new hubby, who only wants her wealth. But he mistakes her emotional vulnerability for a lack of discernment—and a lack of desire to get even.

I like my women-in-peril thrillers when they feature clever heroines driven to survive whatever nightmare their antagonists throw at them and Sudden Fear is amazing in this regard. I know everyone loves Joan Crawford best in Mildred Pierce, but I was floored by her performance here, especially in the dialogue-free scenes. There are campy moments (which I adore), but the story is emotionally compelling and I not only wanted Joan's character to survive, but to thrive post-shitty marriage.

Thieves Like Us (dir. Robert Altman, 1974)

Young lovers Bowie (Keith Carradine) and Keechie (Shelley Duvall) yearn for a white picket fence, a quiet porch, and a case of Cokes (probably because that's all they drink in this film). Too bad Bowie is an escaped convict tied up with bank robbers. Too bad it's the Great Depression. At least there's plenty Coke. Want a Coke?

Most films set in the past do not as painstakingly recreate bygone worlds as strongly as Thieves Like Us. Set in Depression era Mississippi, this film captures the harsh, bleak reality and romantic, consumerist fantasies of its star-cross’d leads, played with sensuous naivete by Keith Carradine and the late, great Shelley Duvall. This is more than just yet another Bonnie and Clyde riff—it’s a tragedy about the elusive American Dream, with snippets of radio music, programs, and ads acting as a Greek chorus in a truly inspired touch. Robert Altman can be an acquired taste, but this is easily my favorite of his films to date.

Targets (dir. Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)

The paths of an aging horror star (Boris Karloff) and a psychotic mass shooter (Tim O'Kelly) cross at a drive-in theater.

Targets was not what I expected: it's a threeway character study between the disheartened horror star, the psychotic shooter, and 1960s America itself. To be honest, you could remake this movie now with a former ‘80s slasher star making the same musings and it would still seem credible—but then of course, you wouldn’t have Karloff in one of the best performances of his career. Targets is rendered even more chilling by its docudrama style. The violence shown isn’t sensationalistic, but presented in clinical detail, making it feel more authentic. Gorier films haven’t frightened me as much as this slow-burn character study.

Losing Ground (dir. Kathleen Collins, 1982)

Despite finding pleasure in research and theory, philosophy professor Sara Rogers (Seret Scott) envies the escatic nature of her painter husband, Victor (Bill Gunn). Their difference in temperaments and Victor's adulterous straying also strain the marriage. However, once Sara takes a job performing a sensuous, emotional role in a student film to get in touch with her own artistic side, Victor grows suspicious and jealous in turn.

Losing Ground was sold to me as a film about a crumbling marriage, but it's more than that. It might be more accurate to call it a portrait of self-discovery, a woman extending beyond her comfort zone to live more fully. I found myself strongly relating to Sara-- like her, I have a creative side I've often been timid to share, being more comfortable with the mind than the body. Being an independent film, it eschews the Hollywood histrionics and melodrama that would normally accompany this subject matter and it's paced perfectly at 90 minutes. Though filmed in the early '80s, the film only played the film festival circuit and never enjoyed a proper theatrical release. Only in 2015 was it rediscovered and then released on home video. The director Kathleen Collins died young, but this film stands a testament to her passion and talent.

Cactus Flower (dir. Gene Saks, 1969)

A middle-aged dentist (Walter Matthau) who poses as a married man to fend off romantic commitment decides to buckle down and wed his much younger girlfriend (Goldie Hawn, looking like a mod Tinker Bell). However, when she insists on speaking with his made-up wife, he recruits his no-nonsense nurse (Ingrid Bergman) into the charade.

Cactus Flower is what I often call a transitional film: released in the late ‘60s, it has one foot in the classical style of Old Hollywood and another in the more liberated counterculture that was shooting out hits like Easy Rider and The Graduate. Directed with unexciting competence by Gene Saks, Cactus Flower’s success largely comes from Ingrid Bergman, Goldie Hawn, and Jack Weston. Bergman I could watch in anything, so I’m biased perhaps, but she walks the fine line between funny and touching as the lonely woman who finds emotional liberation through her roleplaying. The scene where she gets groovy on the dance floor is a highlight of her entire screen career and no, I AM NOT KIDDING.

The Black Room (dir. Roy William Neill, 1935)

Two aristocratic brothers (both Boris Karloff) are at odds over the love of a young woman (Marian Marsh) and an ancient prophecy forecasting the end of their bloodline.

Boris Karloff dives into a double role in this deliciously gothic melodrama. Columbia pulled out all the stops for this one: it drips with sumptuous set design and expressionistic lighting. I was particularly taken by this film’s slightly tongue-in-cheek approach to a more 18th century mode of gothic terror. It goes for full-blooded melodrama with its innocent maidens, secret dungeons, lecherous villain, and ancient curses. It’s as close to a 1930s Castle of Otranto adaptation as we’ve got and by God, I'm grateful for its existence.

Freud: The Secret Passion (dir. John Huston, 1962)

In the late 1880s, young psychiatrist Sigmund Freud (Montgomery Clift) probes into the inner lives of his "hysterical" patients to discover the roots of their mental illnesses. However, these journeys into the subconscious worlds of others bring him into uncomfortable contact with his own demons.

Listening to a podcast episode on John Houston’s Key Largo led me to works of his I hadn’t heard of, such as Freud. I was initially skeptical it could be good. Biopics are my least favorite genre, but this film isn’t so much a biopic as a psychological drama in which Freud is the protagonist and some of his ideas are illustrated through his interactions with the other characters. Instead of wasting time being some melodrama ABOUT Freud the man (the route most biopics go regarding their subjects), it’s about his theories and philosophy, which is a far more interesting approach. The result is a probing, intellectual work. I’m not sure how close Montgomery Clift’s characterization is to the real Freud, but the real star of the show is Houston’s direction, a resurrection of German expressionist aesthetics blended with stark realism.

Paris is Burning (dir. Jennie Livingston, 1990)

This documentary covers 1980s NYC ball culture, where Black and Latino members of the LGBT+ community vogue and perform.

Documentaries are not usually my thing, but Paris is Burning was a longtime resident of my watchlist and I am glad I finally got around to seeing it. It has a time capsule quality, capturing a long-vanished 1980s New York City and the LGBT+ community living there at the time. Obviously, there is a lot of meditation on gender identity, sexuality, and the importance of community in a world hostile to your very existence, but I was also interested by the film's presentation of the materialism and consumption of the Reagan era.

Candyman (dir. Bernard Rose, 1992)

A graduate student (Virginia Madsen) studying urban myths unwittingly summons the Candyman (Tony Todd), the hook-handed ghost of a Black painter who was lynched decades ago.

I expected fun slasher nonsense and instead got a gorgeous, unsettling, modern gothic masterpiece that only occasionally dips its toes into schlock. Candyman is ethereal in all the right ways despite being suffused with despairing urban gloom. I was not surprised to find the script was adapted from a Clive Barker story—like Barker’s The Hellbound Heart (adapted into the Hellraiser films), Candyman is chilling yet eerily beautiful. The moment I finished watching it, I knew this was one I would be itching to revisit. There’s just so much going on regarding race, class, and memory in America. Also, Tony Todd’s voice is a damn treasure.

Merrily We Go to Hell (dir. Dorothy Arzner, 1932)

An alcoholic playwright (Frederic March) and his long-suffering wife (Sylvia Sidney) decide to have an open marriage. It doesn't work out well for either of them.

Merrily We Go to Hell is a sneaky piece of work. Reading the synopsis, one expects the usual salacious pre-code melodrama. The first scenes even resemble your usual romantic comedy, with our central couple having a meet-cute. The actual movie is much more complicated. It's about a married couple thinking love is enough to make their union work despite the husband's alcoholism. However, this idea proves erroneous and attempts to numb the pain through hedonism and extramarital vengeance just pour gasoline on the fire. The emotional honesty here is astonishing and even the "happy ending" isn't so uncomplicated when you think about it. So far, this is my favorite film of director Dorothy Arzner.

Up the Down Staircase (dir. Robert Mulligan, 1967)

An idealistic young teacher (Sandy Dennis) gets her first position at an inner-city high school. However, she finds her enthusiasm worn down by the school system's bureaucracy and the many psychological troubles of her students and fellow faculty.

Ever since I watched Four Seasons a few years ago, I’ve been intrigued by Sandy Dennis. No matter the role, I find her eccentric yet vulnerable screen presence compelling. Up the Down Staircase was Dennis’ first starring vehicle and an unsentimental look at the teaching profession. Having worked as a teacher and in similar jobs in the past, I related strongly to the main character’s compassion fatigue and her frustrated desire to help make her community a better place. While not a cheery film, it is ultimately an optimistic one, even if that optimism is cautious. And of course, Dennis is damn great as always, whetting my appetite for more of her work.

They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (dir. Sydney Pollack, 1969)

In the thick of the Great Depression, a group of desperate contestants sign up for a grueling dance marathon with a hefty cash prize. Greed, sexual exploitation, health problems, and crushing despair eventually complicate the exhibition.

This movie is so bleak you’ll be just as exhausted as the characters by the tragic finish. I know that doesn’t sound like much of a recommendation, but this is powerful stuff. It does what a great tragedy should do: make you emphasize with the characters and go out into the world more empathetic toward the people around you and more critical of a society in which such awful conditions could be permitted. And like Targets, it’s depressing that this movie’s themes remain relevant to American culture.

Flash Gordon (dir. Frederick Stephani and Ray Taylor, 1936)

A himbo polo player (Buster Crabbe), a middle-aged scientist in hot pants (Frank Shannon), and an ingenue in a blonde wig (Jean Rogers) must save the Earth from a galactic emperor.

Yes, I’m counting a film serial as a single unit on this list. In this corny, breathless saga can be found the seeds of so many modern blockbuster spectacles. The old school space opera aesthetic is always a joy and I love seeing what George Lucas borrowed from the comic book plot and fantastic images for his Star Wars films. Also, the serial is surprisingly horny for a product released after the death knell of the pre-code era, so that’s fascinating too. I watched the episodes, one a night, usually before a feature film, to recreate at least in part the conditions in which old serials were viewed. I highly recommend that approach if you're interested in watching these kind of films-- NEVER binge them.

Silkwood (dir. Mike Nichols, 1983)

Karen Silkwood (Meryl Streep), a union activist and metallurgy worker at a plutonium processing plant, discovers both she and many of her co-workers have been contaminated with high levels of radiation due to blatant safety violations. Rather than remedy the problem, her employers are determined to keep her quiet, but Karen refuses to back down.

Meryl Streep's performance in Silkwood finally showed me what all the hype around her is about. What an astonishing, natural performance-- I forgot I was watching an actor every moment. As for the overall film, it's one of the stronger docudramas out there (as this film was based on a true story). It isn't just a preachy message piece and it allows Silkwood to be both a heroic figure and a flesh and blood human being with flaws like anyone. The domestic drama involving her lover (Kurt Russell) and lesbian roommate (Cher, who also gives an incredible performance) is almost as compelling as the main story. Though released in the early '80s, it feels like a late manifestation of the paranoia thriller genre of the decade before.

Love with the Proper Stranger (dir. Robert Mulligan, 1963)

When a one-night stand with a jazz musician (Steve McQueen) leaves her pregnant and at risk of upsetting her very Catholic family, an innocent sales clerk (Natalie Wood) tracks down her lover and demands he help her get an abortion.

Love with the Proper Stranger is such a unique piece of work that I can forgive the elements that dissatisfy me (like the ending). Wood and McQueen's romance starts out acidic and slowly becomes tender over the course of their bizarre misadventure, and the film itself shifts through several moods. Sometimes it feels like an urban drama, other times a romantic comedy. But it somehow holds together, perhaps because of the chemistry between the lead actors.

What were your favorite film discoveries in 2024?

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lewkwoodnco · 1 year ago

Text

tis the damn season - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: estranged best friends to lovers trope my beloved!!! 😍 AHHH this is one of my fav fics I've written in a while. Poem below is Golden Boy by Cecil Miller, and the Spanish line is taken from a streetcar named desire by tennessee (idk how 2 spell) williams! this might be less proofread than normal + includes a few of my pre-infection hallucinations? lottt of angst, wc 5.1k!!

P.S. I think I'll be doing a part 2 to buy me presents! but not until a little later ahah and also the 12 days of fics are totally going to spill over hahah

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood stares out the kitchen window. Both inside and outside, there is a bleak stillness in the air that sinks in his bones like a plague. It's too cold and too early in the morning for anyone to be properly out and about. But the season always messed up his sleep schedule more than usual, and now that they had taken a break from their cases for the holidays, there was nothing to occupy his treacherous mind, and its return to taut requirings of Christmases past.

Slowly, the other residents of Portland Row start to stir. George grumbles about their spluttering heating system and having to plod through the snow to get the mail, and Lucy promptly falls asleep in the cup of tea she's just brewed for herself. They were all exhausted, and rightfully so, given that the holidays was prime time for people to start looking into properly clearing out ghosts to keep their homes warm and cheery.

He slips out just as George's complaints about the heater start ramping up, and his mind is so scattered that he forgets to put his coat on. It's a little more brisk than what was completely tolerable, strictly speaking, but it was only just for a minute. When he reaches the mailbox, he runs into Mr. and Mrs. L/N, old family friends who had helped him more than he deserved over the years. They made some polite conversation while he rifled through the bills and letters.

"Oh, Anthony, we wanted to invite you over to tea sometime this week. Y/N's home for the holidays."

His hand slips and an envelope slices his finger open. It was bound to happen, given his glum and careless mood, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to suppress his cry of pain in front of them.

"Home...as in here? London?"

Ever since she had left for boarding school, there would always be some talk of her dropping by for Christmas every year. But the plans would never be fully solid, or some other pre-existing commitment would prevent her from making the trip. He was suddenly feeling oddly claustrophobic. He glanced up and down the street, as if expecting her to be hiding in some bushes.

Mrs. L/N seemed to pick up on his distraction, and her brow furrowed with concern.

"Of course London. Where's your coat, dearie? Aren't you feeling chilly?"

"...yes. Now that you mention it...perhaps it's best I head back inside."

He gave a stiff sort of wave and walked back, mind reeling. Eight years. Eight years since he last saw her. What the hell was he supposed to do if he saw her now? How was he supposed to feel?

Luckily, he doesn't get much time to panic because as soon as he walks in, he narrowly dodges a wrench being lobbed at his head. Apparently, eleven freezing days with improper heating was more than what George could bear. It's usually a rather quick fix, but maybe the comparatively more extreme frost this year had corrupted the system beyond Lockwood's capabilities, because two hours later he was still no closer to getting it fixed.

Some time later, there's a knock on the door. He yells for someone to get the door, but he's buried too deeply in the house for anyone to hear him. Grumbling, he dusts himself off and walks to the door himself, head buzzing with frustration. He's so preoccupied with what more he could possibly do to get the heating working again that he doesn't think to check the peephole first. So when he opens the door, he gets the wind knocked out of him.

"Anthony."

It was her; rosy-cheeked yet looking effortlessly warm. Her facial features had lengthened and rearranged themselves as compared to when he last saw her, but there was still something expensive to the twist of her mouth and the crinkles near her eyes.

"It's been so long."

Even her voice was rich, like honey. Now that she was standing in front of him, the stitch in his chest from the morning seemed much more familiar. It had been some seasonally grievious paste that had coated his lungs and stoppered his mouth that made him feel eerily weightless if he dwelled on it too much.

He didn't know what to do. Exchange pleasantries, or skip to the part where he slams the door in her face? Before he could decide, he hears some shuffling behind him, and almost instinctively opens the door wider.

"Y/N. These are my associates. George Karim, Lucy Carlyle...Y/N L/N."

"Right. Lockwood and Co., was it?"

The four of them glance at each other, exchanging fleeting smiles for a good half-minute, before George has the sense to usher everyone inside for a cup of tea.

The kettle's already on, and George hands out the cups of tea waring mittens, his glasses barely visible behind the scarf mummifying the lower half of his head. If she notices the cold in the house, she doesn't comment on it.

They make some polite small talk. She's pleasantly amiable and a perfectly gracious guest, and talks about her Christmas dinner plans. Lockwood is disinterested and surly and wants to talk about his fragmented sense of self. At one point, his responses start to become so clipped that he earns a poorly concealed kick from Lucy, accompanied by a stern look. Luckily, it doesn't seem as if she's noticed. She was looking at the white blanket of snow over their garden carefully, as if dismissing their presence.

"Your garden looks beautiful. I'd love to have a look around."

George and Lockwood exchanged a look. It was freezing outside, and the harsh temperatures were clearly not worth braving for the little of the flowerbeds they could see. George opened his mouth to tell her as much, in his own snide way, but he hesitated. Lockwood felt his heart sink.

The thing was, she had had a magnetic effect on most people ever since they were kids, a quality that made it difficult for any grown adult to refuse her or for any child to oppose her. It was the same reason why she was sitting in his house, drinking out of his teacups, eating his share of biscuits (George and Lucy had clearly conspired as soon as they picked up on her staying for tea). But he had been sure that if there was anyone who could pull away from this siren call of hers, it would be George. The very boy who was meaningfully looking at him, trying to express some uncommunicable panic.

"Er...Lockwood?"

And so, he ended up taking her out for a brief and awkwardly quiet stroll in their garden once she was done with her tea. They meandered through the garden path stiltedly, and every snow-dusted weed and sapling seemed to astound her. Still, she divided her attention sufficiently to continue the ocnversation.

"Homeowner and agency head at fifteen. Impressive."

"Thank you."

"I bet you're the media's darling."

He shrugs.

She turns to him, eyes generously pooling with faux concern.

"It can't have been easy."

It wasn't easy, not that she would know anything about it. He wants to be spiteful towards her, lash out at her. God knows she deserved it. But something holds him back.

"So...that was George. And Luce."

She jerked her head back in acknowledgement, but he could see the slight smile playing at her lips as she did so. He had forgotten how terribly exasperating she could be.

"What?"

She shook her head, but that only made her smile grow wider, and so she finally relented. There's a vulpine twist to her lips that Lockwood has no patience for. "Nothing. I'm sure they're lovely people, of course. But if I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you."

He shrugged. "I wanted to share a bit of my life now. They're just about all of it."

She hums pleasantly, stopping short in front of one of the flower beds. She bends down and picks up a freshly fallen violet, its deep indigo harsh and unrelenting against the fresh, pure snow, against the season of vacancy and death. She holds it up in front of Lockwood.

"Viola Odarata. Symbolises humility. Flores; flores para los muertos. Flores."

A part of him wants to sneer at her in painful irony. How arrogant of her to think she could waltz back into his life as she pleased.

"That what they teach you in your boarding school? Useless facts about violets?"

She shivers, even though the air is completely still with no breeze, and her lips part. Too late, he realises he's gone too far. Her smile slips a fraction, and she takes on an air that makes him feel obliged to apologise. He resists it, and for a moment he sees something flash in her eyes, but it's gone before he can place it.

"Forgive me, but you don't seem terribly happy."

"The Problem's raging worse than ever. Happy things don't come by easy these days."

"...I suppose. It wouldn't -" For the first time, Lockwood thinks she might be feeling nervous. Her humanity, manufactured or otherwise, draws him in despite himself. "It wouldn't have anything to do with me...would it?"

He takes in her carefully manicured appearance, her intentionally pieced together life made up of the dreams she worked towards and achieved. And all he had was a house that was more of a burden than a blessing on some days and this inchoate dread over a Problem whose end was nowhere in sight. But he doesn't know how to express this resentment, this jealousy.

"I'm alright if you're alright."

Sad, dispirited eyes look into each other, searching for the fulfilment they're sure the other has found. She speaks in a tight voice.

"It's okay with the both of us, then."

She suddenly reaches out, and gently holds his finger with the papercut with a firm but comforting pressure. His first instinct is to pull his hand back, but he doesn't, and as the long seconds pass, he feels increasingly vulnerable. The cut was no longer bleeding, and was even well on its way to healing over just fine, but it was irritated from where he had relentlessly picked at it.

"Looks fresh."

She traces the cut with her other hand, violet folded in her palm, with a feather-light touch. The surreality of the moment - of her standing inches from her, her breath tickling his fingertips, her warmth spreading through him - catches up to him and makes his breath hitch. It was unbearably intimate and made him feel like the exposed, raw wound he had been nursing for the eight years she had been gone. And how like her to return with pockets full of unfounded promise to stitch the tears in his skin.

And just as quickly, she lets go of his hand and steps back, and Lockwood feels as though cold air has been forced into his airways. She tucks the violet behind her ear, and drifts back inside. The tilt of her joints is so familiar that it stirs something in him. Something long gone, something he was gripping like a fist.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they return, Lockwood excuses himself to his room for a bit of air, ignoring how closely George is watching him. He sits on his bed and takes a deep breath. His nightstand has a few miniature picture frames on it, and in one of them the picture's been flipped around. It's a picture of him and her, taken a few months before she left. It's how he remembered her before seeing her today. Sometimes, when the urge grew too great, he would tilt the frame under his nightlight, and make out the barest outline of their figures looped together on the other side of photograph.

He didn't know what to make of her departure, all those years ago. One day, they were swinging on tyres in her parents' garden, and the next day, she wasn't at school. But as the years churned on, the string tying his heart to hers stretched and tore a slow and painful death from him, out of the cavity she left, and he never felt quite the same again. And as they continued to age, the wound became old news and scabbed over what was once raw and paralysing, but a part of him always wanted to know why she did it, to be angry with her for being so callous.

And now she was back, pulling him under by the ankles, ripping the gash open viciously.

He didn't know how exactly to deal with it, after years of thinking of her adjacently, daring only to keep her in his peripheral vision, where he was kept safe. Maybe it was all part of a larger problem; the twitch in his hand and his recurring nightmare.

He's ten years old again, at a train station he's never been to, and likely one that doesn't exist. It's hard to see just about any discerning features, except for the massive train peeking through the fog in front of him. He looks to the right, and sees her strong fingers wrapped around a railing, her standing in the door of the train. He can't be sure of much, but he's certain she's looking at him. He stretches the moment as long as it will last, because it's all downhill from there.

There's a terrible groaning sound, and the train reluctantly starts to chug along, steadily gathering speed. He walks alongside it, gradually picking up his own pace, until he's nearly sprinting. All the while, she watches him with amused eyes, secure in her place on the train. He's panting, choking on the fog, eyes streaming. But if he can just reach her scarf whipping in the wind, the train will stop, and she'll step out, cool and gleaming and impervious to the cloud of dust surrounding her and-

He wakes with a start. He knows how it ends.

She slips through his fingers every time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stays for the rest of the day, and the four of them spend a cosy afternoon decorating their Christmas tree, carefully dodging the random mugs of hot chocolate littered across the room. While they were digging out the ornaments from the attic, she finds a box that he, evidently, had not tucked away deep enough.

"Remember these?" She holds up a flimsy, crumbling Santa Claus ornament made of construction paper. "We had so much fun making them."

He nods stiffly, subtly shifting the box towards a corner in the living room. It smarts his eyes to look at the hideous thing, as if its very sight was corrosive.

"Took me a while to find them, though. It must be a pain to dig them out every year."

He puts down the bauble he's hanging, and sighs. "I haven't...brought these out in a while."

Even her look of perplexity looks artificial. "Why not? Aren't there so many happy memories attached to these?" Her face falls ever so slightly. "Do memories of me not make you happy?"

Luckily, they're interrupted by Lucy placing a handful of miniature marshmallows into their hot chocolate. When she moves over to George, Lockwood wordlessly starts hanging their crafted ornaments, and she doesn't press him for an answer. When they're done, the tree looks a lot more crowded and chaotic than it normally does, similar to how Lockwood was feeling with her around. He looks at her, and isn't sure how he feels about the asymmetry of having her here.

Later, when she's about to leave, it starts snowing heavily, too heavily for her to walk home. So after a phone call with her parents, she decides to spend the night. Lockwood's in his bedroom when he hears a knock on his door. It's her, dressed in a spare set of Lucy's pajamas.

"I thought you'd be awake."

She wanted to know what he was doing, and what he was doing was wrapping some Christmas presents. Immediately, she obligingly offered to help, and she was too eager for him to outright refuse. Of course, he might have thought differently if he had known how abysmally little she knew about wrapping gifts. And so they stay up till the early hours of the morning, both of them trying equally hard to teach her the most basic of gift wrapping skills. As the night wore on, they got increasingly drunk on laughter over her heinously criminal attempts and Lockwood's limbs started to loosen up. At one point, he had given up entirely and placed his hands over hers, puppeteering the night's only decent gift wrapping while she smothered her laughter.

He doesn't remember much after that. When he next regains his consciousness, he's lying curled up next to her, with the late morning sun streaming through his windows. He watches her breathe, slow and steady, with a face so relaxed, amiable and familiar.

As her eyes start to flutter open, he panics and tries to look anywhere else, which isn't easy given how she's only inches away from him. They glance at each other, silently acknowledging their positions, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to put as much space between them as he can with his arm wrapped under her. "When do you leave?"

She scrunches her forehead as she thinks. It's one of the few parts of her he instantly recognises and he gets caught off guard by a rush of affection, and a flash of an impulse to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Monday."

He pulls a face.

"We'd have the weekend together. Isn't that enough?"

They stay quiet, watching specks of dust float through the sunlight filtering through his partially drawn curtains. With how close they are to each other, they're not looking at each other's face, and it's unclear if she's asking him, or herself, or the dust they're watching. Was it enough?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening, Lucy wants to take a walk along some of the emptier roads in the snow. She takes their trip as her cue to leave but Lucy insists she come along, so she does. The four of them had cycled as far as they could, and when they reached the too-slippery parts of the road, they had dismounted and left their bicycles in a corner. Lucy and George were wandering around a bit ahead of them, while they slowly shuffled through the snow. She had picked up some newspapers on their way there, and was looking through them as they walked, taking particular interest in the odd article on Lockwood & Co.

"You've certainly had your fair share of media coverage."

"Along with a decent helping of frenzied media sensationalism, I suppose."

"My apologies. I forgot I was talking to the Anthony J. Lockwood of Lockwood & Co. Now, is the arson bit complimentary, or would I have to pay extra?"

She was teasing him, and it was irritating. There was a reticent air about him and after some politely delicate probing, which he had been too preoccupied to entertain, she had resorted to amusing herself. Toying with him like a figurine, the way she did all those years ago.

"You wear your grief so beautifully, Lockwood. Like...like jewels between your teeth..."

She pauses, flipping through the newspapers interestedly with inky fingertips, which flickered like shadows next to the soft white snow.

"...and you have such a winning smile. Golden boy." She laughs, and the sound feels like icicles pressing into his skull. "Golden boy," she trills, "you were a bit of a child. The world was having its way with you. You tried to...er, something...golden boy!"

She smiles at him lazily, expectantly, as if anticipating some kind of applause. But Lockwood is in no mood for her childish whimsies.

"I'm fine. I don't have any grief."

She frowns exaggeratedly. "'Course you do."

"I don't."

She mumbles, turning back to her newspaper. "Fine, then. Not like I'm the one holding onto...some kind of...ache."

He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. How could anyone be this self-aware and yet completely oblivious? The strain on his self-restraint peaks and he buckles within himself.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"

She looks away from the snow. "Lucy said it'd be nice out here."

"No. I mean why are you here, in London? Here, at Portland Row?"

Her lips are pressed together, and there's something guarded in her eyes.

"I just...wanted to see how you were doing."

"Liar."

The word drops from his tongue in such an aggrieved manner with such vehemence that it makes her choke.

"How could you say something like that?"

He scoffs. "Please, let's not pretend you weren't dying to leave at the first chance. Not that you had the decency to tell me-"

"-I was ten!-"

"- having me go through the humiliating process of finding out on my own-"

"What do you want me to say, Lockwood? I'm sorry I left? I'm sorry you were alone? I'm sorry I was too selfish to give a damn about you?"

"-and you'll come back, choking on your silver spoon only to leave again and again and again until you're all alone-"

"You never wrote!"

"I didn't think you'd want me to!"

"I didn't know what I wanted!"

"Then what do you want?"

"YOU, you idiot!"

He stares at her, speechless.

"I was ten. And I was so foolish. How could I have thought of anything but you?"

With that, the last of her rosy, polished, alluring boarding-school airs fell apart. He looks at her and sees his own anger and yearning reflected back at him; anger and yearning he's hardly ready to face. Despite all their efforts to get away from the other, to move on, something between them held fast. Or perhaps it was that they were hopelessly, irrevocably intertwined.

"Of all the roads I could have travelled, you are at the end of every single one of them. Every single one of them, except the road I did travel. I'm here, Lockwood, because I thought I might have...I might have chosen wrong."

"So you think you can just stroll back now that it's convenient for you? I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, do you realise that?"

"What do you want me to do, Lockwood? You keep pushing me away. I feel like part of a past you're forever trying to run away from. So fine! I'll leave, then. I'll go back to the sorry hole I crawled out of, back to friends I don't care about, back to dreaming of the only person who's ever truly cared about me. Is that what you want?"

She doesn't wait for a response, and turns around and walks away from him.

"Y/N, come back."

She silently picks her bicycle out of the snow, dusting it off.

"You can't cycle in this."

Still ignoring his words ringing through the dead winter silence, she steadies herself and cautiously swings a leg over her bicycle. Lockwood starts to walk towards her.

"You'll fall. You'll hurt yourself. Y/N. Y/N!"

But she's already off, gliding soundlessly like a ghost through frigid air on icy roads.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's already regretting his words by the time he reaches 35 Portland Row. When he first walks in, the house is so deathly quiet that he's convinced she's left. But her bicycle is thrown down in the garden and he knows she's too averse to the cold to walk home in the snow.

He walks slowly, his measure footsteps echoing on the wooden floors of the house, and he eventually finds her in the living room, sitting with her back to the door, staring at the drawn curtains. The fading evening glow spilling through the edges is streaked across her face and there's a soft crunching sound. As he comes closer, he sees the bowl of ice glinting in her lap, like fractured light, with her face as blank as a canvas.

"Have you gone completely mad? You'll fall sick."

She doesn't even flinch, as if she hadn't heard him. When she speaks, there's a dreamy quality to her typically strong and clear voice.

"I didn't want to come back. This city is nothing I want. I was always going to escape some day. And yet..." she trails off with glazed eyes, as if trying to look through some distant fog. "...and yet."

"You were right." The run back had left him mildly breathless, but was also exactly what he needed to get rid of the buzz in his head, giving way to some much-needed clarity. "About the...heartache. I was just sick of it. You're miles away. I love you in your sleep. I still reach the end of road alone. But I loved you all the while and...somehow that made the pain of leaving you worth it."

"I'm restless. I'm lost. I'm selfish." She swivels her head with an unnerving smoothness, grin wide and grotesque, ice glinting between her perfect teeth. "I'm so alone, Lockwood. Just like you said."

He doesn't know what to say. He walks towards her and picks up her bowl but her fingers close around his wrist like a vice. The gleam in her eye makes him want to pull his hand back. He's too old to play her games and lose.

"That's a bad habit."

"I'm a bad habit. One you can't seem to kick even after all these years: tell me, Anthony, why is that?"

"Y/N, stop. You'll spoil your teeth."

It only makes her grind her teeth even more tauntingly. It's an awful sound. "Good. Let them fall out, one by one. It's what I deserve. Maybe I'll finally learn my lesson."

Her grip on his sleeve lessens, but she doesn't let go. She grips the bowl with her other hand even tighter, as if suddenly terrified.

"Leave me be, Anthony. Leave me...to my vices...and violets and...violence."

He reads her face. He tries to figure her out, to read her like the open book she once was to him. When he doesn't leave, she shovels more ice into her mouth, uncomfortably clacking with her teeth, and continues.

"I was racing ahead...into some glorious sunset, towards some fantastic rainbow, at the end of which was some miraculous snowdrop and a wish to soothe my nomadic soul. I didn't have time for the boy with the sad eyes two streets down from me."

"I convinced myself that you resented my escape from the Problem. I was 15 with the bitter taste of lemongrass in my mouth and a stitch in my chest when I realised I spent all those years missing you. I couldn't run away from it, not truly. So I pretend. I pretend you don't hate me and I pretend I'm not an awful person and I pretend there's a chance you'd want me as much as I want you. I came home to tell you how terribly fond I was of you. It was only at your doorstep that I realised I had run out of places to hide."

"I don't have time for love. Nor the capacity for it. But I am tired of trying to outrun it."

She closed her eyes. Her voice was barely a croak. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. If I could...I'd wish away the past eight years of misery." She opened her eyes. "Some nights, I can pretend they never existed. But I can't wish your happiness into existence."

Lockwood somehow finds his voice. "I thought this was the life you wanted."

"It is Christmas, once again, and my heart is lonely as an island...once again. What part of this could I possibly want?"

He lets go of the bowl of ice and covers her limp, frozen hand with his own. She speaks in a low voice, barely stirring the dust in the room.

"I'll never forgive myself."

He sits down next to her, his feather-light lips pressed to her temple. She feels drained, and exhausted, as if the spirit that had driven her for so long was finally fatigued. Her breathing was uneven and her lungs felt lopsided. But what a blessing it was to finally fall in the one place she knew her landing would be soft.

"One day. One day, I'll..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He pulls out a fresh violet from his coat, still damp from the morning dew.

"Call it even?"

She accepts the flower and gives him a sweet smile. He revels in this smallest of victories.

Their peaceful moment gets shattered by the deafening train horn, which unpleasantly reminds Lockwood of where they are.

She hesitates for a moment, but then extends her arm and holds his face. There's a troubled look on her face, like there's something indescribable she wished to communicate just at the tip of her tongue. But the compulsion passes, and she settles for a trembling brush of his cheekbone with her thumb.

"You're such a darling, Anthony. I don't care what any newspaper or lawsuit has to say about you. You'll always be a darling to me."

"Good, because soon enough you might just be the only one."

She grins, widely at first, but then it chips, and for once he can admit that the sight breaks his heart. She gives him a hug, and he holds her like she's one of the precious metals that adorn her jewellery.

"You'll come back, won't you?"

"Perhaps. See you another weekend."

When they break apart, she swiftly picks up her suitcase with white knuckles and marches to the carriage without looking back. The train horn blares for a final time. The doors shut, and the wheels groan to life. He searches for her face, and finds it, but the reflection of the train station lights hides her eyes. It's at this moment that a disconnected part of him realises he doesn't want to wait for another weekend. He wants her here, and he wants her now.

The train picks up speed, and Lockwood tries to match it. But he's not trying to run. He knows that won't work, it never does.

"Y/N!"

That gets the attention of most passengers, including her. This train accelerates much faster than in his dream, and he's got an awful stitch running down the side of his torso by now, but he's beyond caring at this point. When she sees that it's him yelling like a maniac, she presses her flushed face to the window, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Would you stay?"

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits @ahead-fullofdreams

#taylor swift #lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #tis the damn season #evermore #12 days of fics '23

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misshoneyimhome · 1 year ago

Note

Okay I need a lil bit of holiday angst followed by fluff, I’m thinking he’s on the phone with Alex and they’re prepping for the Nylander clan to arrive in Toronto for Christmas! Now you’ve met the family and adore them but you’ve never spent a holiday together and you’re excited as you think this is a huge step in your relationship! So you arrive back home from gift shopping and he’s on the phone and you’re about to pop in to say hello but you overhear him saying how he feels a little apprehensive and doesn’t know how he feels about you joining in on their holiday, big ouch you feel as though you’re rushing into the family and feel badly about planning this whole business, now if you stayed to listen longer you’d know it’s because he knows how much you live your family and he feels bad for keeping you from them for the first time at Christmas and he’s anxious because he wants to make it a perfect first Christmas together as it won’t be the last…but boy has some explaining to do when he finds you crying in your shared bedroom amongst his family’s presents😭

Oh yes! Nothing says Christmas more than a little holiday misunderstanding 😅 bb, I hope this comes somewhere close to your idea, and that you’ll enjoy a little bit of soft!Willy as he tries to comfort his girlfriend ❤️

Words count: 2.3+

➼｡ﾟ

My Only Wish I William Nylander ✿❄︎

"Okay, I think that's the final one," you quietly murmured to yourself while checking your list twice. And then with a contented grin, you set off for home after a successful Christmas shopping spree.

Meanwhile you’d been out hunting for gifts, your boyfriend William Nylander was busy getting things ready for his family's visit.

This Christmas marked your first year celebrating it together, and although it felt like a significant step in your relationship, it just felt right. You and William had been dating for almost two years, and an official couple for almost just as long, so spending the holidays together seemed like a natural decision.

Initially, you were a bit unsure about skipping your usual family Christmas, but with work commitments looming with important meetings on the 22nd and William's home hockey match on the 23rd it made more practical sense to stay put in Toronto. Besides, William had extended an invitation to almost his entire family to join in the celebrations.

Or perhaps, it could have been his sisters' insistence to have everyone together that pushed the plan forward. Nonetheless, they were all set to arrive on the 22nd, catch the Leafs playing against the Blue Jackets on the 23rd, and then Alex would fly in from Pittsburgh, giving you all ample time from the 24th to the 27th to enjoy the Nylander family's company. And this year, you were to be a part of it all.

You were absolutely thrilled. Christmas was your favourite time of the year, and there was nothing you wanted more than to spend those days with your beloved boyfriend. You'd found him the perfect present, or maybe even presents, and you'd also sorted gifts for all his family members.

Despite William's insistence that you shouldn't spend all your time and money on gifts for his family, you couldn't help yourself nor contain your excitement. You were simply too eager and joyous about the upcoming celebrations.

You adored his family, and it seemed they felt the same way about you.

William surprised you by introducing you to them rather swiftly, which was unexpected as he wasn't usually the type to share his personal life so soon. But he was simply immensely proud to have you as his girlfriend, and he just hadn’t been able to resist mentioning you to them. So soon after, he pulled you into a family video call for a virtual introduction. Then, during the following off-season, you spent almost two months in Sweden with all his family and friends.

Returning to the condo, you struggled to unlock the front door while juggling numerous bags and holding your phone in your mouth, but eventually managed to push it open.

"Hey babe," you greeted softly upon entering, but there was no response from William.

Thinking he might be in the bathroom, you carefully set the bags down before removing your coat and shoes. But just as you were about to call out once more, William's voice echoed from the living room.

"I don't know, Alex," you heard William's voice sounding rather intense, almost irritated, you thought. "I mean, I love y/n, but I’m just not so sure about her spending Christmas here with us."

The sudden mention of your name caused you to freeze in place.

Moreover, you were baffled by his words. Why would he suddenly express uncertainty to his brother about you staying for Christmas? You'd discussed it several times, and each time, William had appeared genuinely thrilled about the idea. It was even his own suggestion when you’d mentioned the stress of travelling during the holidays.

His words cut deep, leaving a painful sting in your heart.

"I know, it's just... she's been putting in so much effort, and she seems genuinely excited about the whole thing..." William's voice resonated through the condo. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you merely found yourself unable to move. William was talking to Alex about you, and it didn't sound like a positive conversation.

"No, she's out Christmas shopping right now... I just don't know how to say anything..." William's tone was gentle yet slightly husky, and his voice began to quiver as he talked about you spending the holiday with him.

Listening to one side of the conversation, you felt your heart shatter. Naturally, you couldn't hear Alex's response.

True, you had put in a tremendous amount of effort. You wanted your home to radiate the holiday spirit, maybe going a bit overboard with decorations, perhaps choosing a rather large Christmas tree, and even deciding to prepare every variety of Christmas dishes, blending traditional Swedish courses with Canadian ones.

However, you had believed this was what you both wanted. Although William wasn't adept at planning such gatherings, you interpreted his expressions as pure excitement, reflecting the joy you felt in organising the entire event.

But clearly, you were mistaken.

Perhaps it had overwhelmed him. Maybe this step in your relationship was too significant, and now he was having second thoughts.

"I just feel bad... maybe we shouldn't have agreed to do this..."

Slow tears traced down your cheeks as a whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind, leading you to regret this entire situation. Your breaths became uneven, your chest felt burdened, and pain pierced through your body, gripping your heart with a deep ache.

This couldn't be happening, you thought.

Closing your eyes, you allowed the tears to flow freely, and gently grasping all the bags again, you quietly attempted to make your way to the bedroom, seeking solace and tranquillity. Peeking into the room, you spotted William, his head bowed, facing the large window of the condo, and seeing it as an opportunity, you tried to sneak past him and into the bedroom.

And as soon as you entered, your body collapsed at the foot of the bed, throwing the bags with you. Nestling your knees against your chest, your back leaned against the bed frame, and you released your sobs.

You felt hurt. Hurt that William didn't share the same enthusiasm about spending the holiday together and hurt that he felt unable to tell you how he truly felt.

"I just feel guilty about keeping her away from her own family, Alex," William confessed to his brother, expressing his concerns about the upcoming days.

"Come on, Willy, if y/n didn't want to spend Christmas with all of us, she wouldn't have gone to such lengths to plan it," Alex chuckled lightly over the phone, prompting a gentle sigh from William.

"I guess you're right. She's seemed so excited about it, which makes me happy. I just hope she won't be disappointed. It's her first Christmas with us, and... God, I just hope she'll like it."

Thinking about having you there during this time of year brought a sense of joy to William. You meant everything to him, and experiencing these emotions with you excited him more than anything else.

He knew how much you cherished this holiday. And he had to admit that all the joy and romance of Christmas had a profound effect on him too, despite being a 27-year-old boy who sometimes felt immature and challenged with admitting to his own deep feelings. Yet, deep emotions coursed through him, seeing your eyes sparkle with excitement when you spoke about spending Christmas together and how much you adored his family.

Your unwavering commitment to him and to making the holiday special touched him deeply. And it only had him believe that you were indeed meant for him.

"Willy, chill out, she's going to love it! Besides, she's already spent enough time with all of us, so she won't get scared away," Alex's chuckles echoed in William's ear, prompting laughter from William as well.

"True that," he replied before their conversation gradually faded, and they eventually hung up.

William released a gentle sigh, feeling relieved after his chat with his brother, as it had helped ease his earlier concerns about your decision to stay back in Toronto with him and his family.

But then looking at the time, he found it odd that you hadn't returned yet. You'd been out for hours, and while he understood that shopping could take time, he also knew you had had a plan, so it shouldn't have taken so long.

Attempting to call you only led to voicemail, which started to raise some concern, as he then began pacing around the condo. He should have heard you come in, but as he noticed your shoes and coat by the front door, he slowly realised that perhaps he hadn't heard you due to his phone call.

Contemplating where you might have gone, William made his way to your bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Babe, are you in there?"

Startled by William's voice, your heart sank deeper, and you find yourself struggling to speak.

"Yes... um, but please, don't come in here," you managed to say, trying to hide the tremble in your voice.

"Why? What are you doing?"

Your mind felt foggy from crying, and you hurriedly made up an excuse, not wanting William to see you in this state.

"I, um... I'm wrapping your present," you forced out, attempting to conceal the cracks in your voice.

But sensing that something wasn't right, William felt a twitch of concern. It wasn't like you to come home without saying anything to him, even if he was on the phone. Normally, you'd give him a silent kiss before heading off if he was in a call.

But as you’d simply slipped away into the bedroom, he knew something was off.

"Come on, baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his tone tinged with worry.

You attempted to deflect again, trying to get him to leave, but William wasn't easily convinced.

"Nothing's wrong, Willy... I'm just—"

"You're not wrapping my present; you did that just last week," he stated firmly before pushing the door open.

William's heart shattered into pieces as his eyes fell upon you. You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by the day's haul of presents, your eyes red and puffy, clearly showing signs of crying.

"Shit, babe, what's wrong?" William hurriedly sat down next to you, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Has something happened? Are you okay?"

The sight of you crying almost shook William. He hated seeing you like this, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had caused it.

"It's nothing..." you almost whispered, avoiding his gaze as you felt too vulnerable to face him.

"No, it's not nothing... you're crying, and I want to know why."

Your entire body trembled as you struggled to articulate how you felt. You had overheard his conversation and knew he didn't want you to stay for Christmas. But finding the words felt incredibly challenging.

"Hey," William spoke softly, his finger gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "Talk to me..."

It was as if your mouth wanted to slowly form the words your mind had been processing, yet your voice hesitated.

"I..." you softly began, more tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know, Willy... I know you don't want me here for Christmas." Your voice was low and quivering.

"What?" William was taken aback. "What makes you think that?"

"I heard what you said to Alex... that you weren't sure about having me here for the holiday... and that you felt bad because I've gone overboard, and now you didn't know how to tell me that you didn't want to spend Christmas together..." You repeated softly, recalling the conversation between the brothers.

"y/n, that's not... that's not what I meant," William sighed deeply.

"It's okay, Willy, I get it," you continued gently, trying to muster a soft smile. "Maybe it is too big a step in our relationship, and that's alright... I just wish you'd told me sooner, so I wouldn't have gone through all of this and made you feel bad about it."

By now you had surrendered to the tears, letting them flow freely.

"Baby! I want to spend Christmas with you," William spoke more assertively, now understanding the root of the misunderstanding. It pained him to think that you believed he didn't want this, especially when he was overly excited about having you there. In fact, he had been considering it since last Christmas, but he was unsure if you'd be okay with it until you had both discussed it.

Letting out a deep sigh, he felt the need to explain.

"You only heard part of our conversation, y/n/n. I said those things because I feel like I'm keeping you from your family. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you around and spend these days with you and my family."

Your eyes darted from side to side, searching his for any hint of insincerity but found none.

"Really?" you simply asked.

A wave of relief washed over you as he clarified the true essence of the conversation. Moreover, you felt a pang of guilt for drawing to conclusion based on just a part of the entire discussion.

William couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"Of course, babe, my only wish this year is to be with you, and I just want you to be happy about it as well," William said, taking your hand and gently intertwining his fingers with yours. "I just feel guilty that you won't be spending the days at home."

"I am happy about it, Willy. I don't want to be anywhere else but here, with you and your family. Please believe that," you reassured your boyfriend. "You've got nothing to feel guilty about."

"Good," he flashed a gentle smile and planted a kiss on your forehead. "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you softly spoke, leaning into his touch, before the two of you shared a tender kiss.

#my asks #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey imagine #wn88 imagine

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1d1195 · 1 year ago

Text

Neighbors Extra IV - Merry Christmas

Read Neighbors here

I wanted to write something for the holidays and they seemed like a worthy couple to do so. I will get back to Dolcezza over the next few days and I'm sorry my posting schedule is off now. I will get that back on track too.

Warnings: fluff, cuteness, Christmassy nonsense (maybe a little angst if you read it the right way)

This isn't super proofread. I'm not sure how my timeline is matching up with the rest of the story but this is their first Xmas together as a couple. Probably before the other Extras I've written but I'm not sure time is really relevant.

~3.1k words

Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“I hope Santa gets everything on my list,” Rory giggled. Harry watched as the wonderful woman helped Rory write out his list. She wrote out each item carefully, committing it to memory. He signed his name in his large six-year-old print. Once the list was decorated with stickers and glitter (and an extra drawing of the North Pole was slipped in the envelope), she stole a picture of it for her own use and memories. The three of them headed to the store to put the envelope in the North Pole mailbox and get some shopping done.

Harry smiled lazily. This was better than any Christmas he could imagine with his little family—and it had hardly started. He gazed longingly at the love of his life as she meandered down the aisles getting presents for her family, Harry’s family, coworkers, and anyone else she could think of before she would have to find a time to get all those items on Rory’s list. “Think y’ve been pretty good, lad,” Harry smiled. “Don’t you?”

He nodded. “I’ve eaten all my vegetables this year. Even the gross ones,” he wrinkled his nose distastefully. It was the same way she did it which made his heart flutter at the sight. Rory was so much like his mum it hurt in the best way.

Harry chuckled. “Mummy and I appreciate that. S’good for you,” he reminded him.

“Can you help me get Mumma a present?” Rory whispered. He wasn’t very good at it. She turned a bit toward the sound of his little voice ever so slightly. A smirk on her face that Harry didn’t miss. He ignored her attention so he could focus on Rory’s inquiry with hope that maybe the pair of them could surprise her.

As usual, she was very smart and did a lot of her Christmas shopping early in the season—almost as soon as the decorations for Halloween came down, she was out at the store buying gifts.

“Course, lad. What do y’want t’get her?”

“A racecar. So she can play with me,” he explained. It wasn’t a question in Rory’s mind. It was the most obvious choice of gift.

Harry chuckled. “I see. Do y’think Mummy has asked Santa for something else we could get her? Something a little more girly?”

By now she had rounded the corner to the next aisle. Harry and Rory had veered off to look at the racecars. “Mumma doesn’t get presents from Santa,” he shrugged heading to the section of toys that he deemed worthy of Mummy.

Harry frowned at how readily that came from Rory. “Oh? She on the naughty list?” He joked. But he would tease her about that later when they fell asleep. Right as they fell asleep.

Rory giggled. “Mumma isn’t naughty, Harry,” he rolled his eyes.

No. She wasn’t. She was the furthest thing from it. She was perfect. An angel. It was...the best thing that had ever happened to Harry—moving in across the street from someone so lovely. “Then how come she doesn’t get any gifts from Santa?” He was joking of course. Surely there would be a little white lie of how Santa left them at the North Pole or there was a promise of next year there would be double the amount for Mumma.

But he hadn’t anticipated Rory’s response. “Mumma said that she called Santa when I was born. She doesn’t want presents so I can have more. Mumma says that even his magic sleigh has a weight limit.”

Harry thought his heart might break. This was the third Christmas that Rory probably understood. His developmental psychology classes told him that age four is usually when kids start to get the gist of what Christmas is like for them. That meant for the time that they knew one another, she hadn’t gotten Christmas gifts from “Santa.”

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to him. What else was she supposed to say to Rory? There wasn’t anyone to balance the gifts out so that she had something to open while Rory got new toys and clothes. Harry tried to think of what he got her over the last couple years. It wasn’t anything special because he couldn’t remember.

She was selfless, of course. Especially for Rory. It honestly made him fall more in love with her. Made him want to cry something awful as well. Harry wondered if she minded. Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“Boys, are we ready to go get some hot chocolate and start decorating?” She called.

Rory quickly handed over the racecar he wanted to get her and pushed it behind Harry’s legs where he could reach to hide it from Mumma. The pair of them smiled like they had just stolen a cookie from the kitchen after she said no. She smirked and met Harry’s gaze with a twinkle in her eyes, herself. “Yes, Mumma,” Rory said hurried to her side. He turned and put a finger to his lips toward Harry. So, he would keep the present a secret. He winked at the little one and caught her gaze once more so he could wink at her too. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention forward toward the checkout.

Don’t forget to invite Gemma and your Mum, please.

Harry smiled at his message as he and Gemma walked the aisles of the beauty store. Harry wanted to get her everything her heart desired and more, but wanted to make sure it was right—that required reinforcements.

“Does she use a face roller?”

“A what?”

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” she sighed in exasperation. She threw one in the basket.

“I don’t know, Gem. I don’t think she has a skincare routine. She’s usually making sure Rory gets a bath and goes t’bed.”

Gemma didn’t like that response. “Then we’re going to get her a spa day too after this,” she explained. “And you need to make sure she takes some time to herself every night,” she said knowingly. Harry nodded. He didn’t care about how many stores they were going to. He wanted this to be the Christmas of her dreams and more. He would get her anything and everything. Cost wasn’t a problem. And he was going to make sure she spent an hour to herself every night for the rest of their lives. “Does she ever complain of dry skin? Or that she looks oily?”

“No...” he shrugged again. Maybe he wasn’t paying as close attention as he thought he was to her self-care.

“Does she ever do anything for herself, Harry? Or do you just let her do everything?”

“Gemma. She is a selfless person. S’impossible t’do anything for her,” he resented the idea that he wasn’t doing a good job as her boyfriend. But Gemma wasn’t wrong. It sounded like he was doing a bad job.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she nodded in agreement. “Mum is getting her all sorts of clothes for us to split up and give to her,” she tossed three different serums into the little basket. “She wears makeup, right?”

Harry never thought she needed it, but he couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the way she glided the various liquids and powders over her face each morning. She did it quickly—with a six-year-old everything had to be done quickly. But it was like watching an artist as she put stuff on her face and turned even more beautiful than she was without it.

“Yes,” he said confidently feeling like he finally was contributing to this whole escapade.

“Does her stuff look old? Has she ever said anything about getting new makeup?”

He thought about all the brushes and tubes she used each morning. Harry thought all of them looked on the older side. “What’s the one y’dot on y’face? Under y’eyes?”

“Concealer.”

“She said they discontinued the brand, so she keeps putting water in hers.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s sad,” Gemma remarked. “Alright, I’ll get her the kind I liked. She can always return it. Give me your phone.”

Harry handed it over immediately. Gemma examined the picture of the pair of them in his background. A selfie from the symphony. Harry felt himself warm at the sight of her even on his own screen that he looked at no less than thirty times a day. While Gemma did her best to match her skin tone, Harry simply admired how pretty she looked and how even just her picture made him feel an overwhelming amount of love for his little life.

“It’s hard to tell in pictures, but she’s tanner than I am; lucky bitch,” Gemma grumbled. Harry smirked.

“Do you want anything for Christmas?” He asked his sister.

Gemma snorted. “She’s already way ahead of you, Harry,” Gemma smiled. “You’re about a month too late.”

He chuckled shyly. “Sorry, Gem.”

“It’s okay. It’s... really nice you have someone so thoughtful. As thoughtful as you. Maybe even more so just because she does it so early. But... I wouldn’t want you to be with someone less thoughtful. So it’s nice.” Harry agreed fully and smiled even brighter knowing that his sister loved his choice in love as much as he did. “Alright. We’re meeting Mum for lunch and then we are going to the home goods store for stuff she might need around the house... what are you doing about her stocking?”

“Doesn’t some of this stuff go in there?”

“Yeah... but like... you could get her jewelry or something.”

Harry nodded. “Okay... I’ll do that on my own.”

“Harry,” Gemma smiled at her little brother—even though he was a good seven inches taller. “You’re doing great. This is...” she sighed happily. “She’s going to love it.”

Harry felt a sense of pride wash over him even though his cheeks warmed at the praise. He really hoped she would.

“Harry?” She whispered in the middle of the night. They had spent an hour setting up Rory’s new roller coaster track after she finished wrapping a few last-minute gifts and pulling the presents from various hiding places—the shed in the backyard, the back of her car, and of course across the street at Harry’s house that had hardly seen anything else Christmas related since he spent all his time with her and Rory.

“Jus’ getting some water, kitten. Go back t’sleep,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t need to be told twice. Her light snores started almost instantly, which boded well for Harry. All her presents were in the back of his car. The transfer had been done late in the day by Gemma while the three of them went to the Christmas Eve fair put on by the local high school. They drank more hot chocolate than Rory could dream about. She worried the sugar would keep him up and prevent them from putting the presents under the tree.

Harry found Rory at the top of the stairs. A ribbon and sign across the way telling Rory not to go down without Mumma and Harry. He was asleep on the floor. A pillow from his room and covered with the blanket she and Rory made one rainy afternoon in November. She helped cut all the little ends while he did his best to tie them together.

Harry smirked and lifted Rory from the floor to bring him back to his bed. “Harry?” Rory murmured.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Did Santa come?” He yawned.

“Santa won’t come if y’aren’t in y’bed, lad,” he reminded him.

“I wanted to ask him to give Mumma some of my presents,” he muttered sleepily.

Harry felt his heart warm. “I’ll go write him a note,” he placed Rory on his little mattress, tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and ruffled his hair. “Don’t get out of bed, till morning, Rory. Or Santa won’t come,” he reminded him.

But Rory was already asleep.

“Mumma!” Rory’s little voice gasped. Harry’s eyes fluttered open to meet her sleeping figure. Her lips parted as she breathed. Harry reached out and put a hand on her face.

“Hey, beautiful,” Harry whispered and inched forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “S’time t’get up,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas,” he leaned closer to kiss the shell of her ear as he spoke softly to her. Meanwhile, Harry could hear Rory bouncing up and down the little hallway between their rooms and the stairs chanting that it was Christmas and Santa came.

Her lashes fluttered as she woke up, meeting Harry’s beautiful green eyes. “Harry, Santa came!”

He winked at her as she rubbed her eye tiredly. “Yeah, lad?” He smiled at the excitement. “Y’didn’t go down, did you?”

“No way, Jose!”

Harry chuckled. “D’you want t’come give Mummy a Christmas hug?” He asked.

There was a shift in weight on the bed as Rory’s little body flung himself in between the pair of them. “Merry Christmas Mumma,” he giggled and snuggled up to her. She smiled, burying her face in his hair, and squeezing him to her.

“Merry Christmas, love bug,” she sighed sleepily but very content.

“Can we go downstairs?” He was trying to wriggle free.

“I have to brush my teeth and we’ll go right down,” she promised and threw the covers back. “Maybe you should give Harry a Christmas tickle,” she suggested as she left the bed and Rory took her word and tickled Harry well enough to make him squirm and giggle himself.

“You’ll pay for that,” he kissed the side of her face as she exited the bathroom so Harry could brush his teeth too.

Rory was now bouncing with excitement, and she smiled sitting back on the bed while they waited for Harry. “What do you think Santa brought you?” She asked.

“I hope he brought me the roller coaster,” he crossed his fingers on both hands to show her and she mimicked the gesture while Harry returned as quickly as possible.

“Alrighty, I think we can go down now,” she smiled.

Harry grinned and followed behind the two of them. Rory was squealing and laughing as he reached the bottom of the stairs before they did. He hurried to the rollercoaster set and sent the little cart flying down the track while she tilted her head at the pile of presents that seemed to increase in size by at least a half.

“Did you get him more?” She muttered under her breath.

“Mumma!” Rory shouted. “Harry wrote Santa a note for me last night! Santa brought you some presents this year.”

She seemed to freeze in place and Harry put a hand on her lower back. “C’mon, kitten. S’Christmas,” he kissed the top of her head and nudged her toward the sofa so she could sit.

“H-he did, huh?” She looked overwhelmed at the pile of neatly wrapped presents with her name on them. Most were labeled from Santa. A few from Harry and one from Rory—the racecar of course.

“We start with the stockings,” Rory explained to Harry grabbing the one with an H on it and handing it to him. It was filled with little trinkets and items that she painstakingly tied with ribbons and candies that he would undoubtedly end up sharing with Rory until their stomachs hurt.

“Oh...I had a chat with Santa last night,” he recalled sitting beside the poor thing that was struggling to make sense of all the items under their overly decorated tree. “Santa agreed that I could do Mummy’s stocking from now on,” he told Rory.

“Mumma, Harry knows Santa too!” The poor thing was having a meltdown on the inside of her mind. It was clear on her face as she tried to factor in the price of all the presents that were tied nicely with bows and ribbons. Rory handed off her stocking as well and was lucky she didn’t drop it immediately. Lucky that Harry was sitting right beside her to hold it while he placed his beside him. Rory sat himself on the floor with the stocking between his legs. “Can I start?”

She was mute it seemed as she examined all the little items poking out of the top of the oversize sock. “Go ahead, lad,” Harry encouraged and squeezed her thigh. “You too, kitten,” he murmured into her ear.

“You...” she whispered breathlessly, cleared her throat and Harry saw the well of tears filling her eyes. “Santa brought me a lot of stuff,” she murmured while Rory oohed and ahhed over the little things filling his stocking.

“He told me that y’never have t’sacrifice Christmas on behalf of Rory anymore. That was really nice of you t’do it the last few years. But...he wants you t’get whatever y’ever want,” he cupped her cheek while Rory ripped open his bag of M&Ms spilling tens of them across the floor with a little scattering that she ignored because Harry was gazing at her like she was the most special thing on the planet.

Harry really, truly believed she was.

“Yeah?” She smiled, but her eyes were so watery it made him melt.

“Very much so,” he leaned forward and swept his lips across hers briefly so as not to get Rory’s attention to their yucky kissing. “Merry Christmas, m’love.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she leaned toward him, resting against his chest. His arm draped over her while they watched Rory stuff a mouthful of M&Ms between his lips. They continued watching him open each and every present that was selflessly ticked off his list.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Rory smiled excitedly.

“I think so too, love bug,” she giggled at him.

“Absolutely,” Harry agreed.

“How about a picture, Rory?” She asked grabbing her phone out of the pocket of her leggings. “C’mere,” she handed her phone to Harry and opened her arms for Rory to hop into her embrace. Rory situated himself half on her lap and half on Harry’s. She squeezed closer to Harry while he hold the phone out for a selfie. Rory held his little jar of slime out for the picture and Harry grinned into the camera as she rested her hand on Harry’s leg around Rory’s little body as best she could. “Alright one more,” Harry smirked and leaned toward her to steal a kiss that caused Rory’s face to wrinkle in distaste forever savoring the perfect moment on film.

A Christmas for the history books, for certain.

At least their history books.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown

neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie

#harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #neighbor!harry #harry styles sad #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction writing #neighbors

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steodraws · 1 year ago

Text

Crimson Snow: Mistletoe and Memories ❄️

disclaimers: this story contains angst, sad, tension, literally no happy ending feels, drama and it's bada's pov. remember it's a work of fiction, none of this represents what i truly think about bada's/bebe's character or nature! it is meant for fun and entertainment purposes only. also, i'm not a native english speaker and this is my first ever fanfiction so keep that in mind and be nice please. thank you 🩵

Summary: "Old flames, city lights, and buried memories — Bada Lee, against her own wishes, returns to Incheon for Christmas. Amidst the moonlit whispers and the unyielding snowfall, she's compelled to confront a past she believed buried beneath the frost."

WC: 2.1k

"Yes, mom, i'll be there for Christmas," i muttered into the phone, my voice tinged with a hint of disdain.

"This city gives me the creeps," i ponder.

Incheon is like a patchwork of bitter memories; every street corner bears the weight of choices made and opportunities lost. This place represents a chapter of my life I struggle to bury.

Regrets, disappointments—I tried to shove those aside a while ago, or at least attempted to.

Nevertheless, i made a promise to my mother about being there for Christmas. What foolishness it is to commit to something i might not fulfill. Yet, is it too late to reconsider? Can i claim i couldn't secure a flight on time?

Idiot; no turning back now. I wonder how much longer i'll keep evading my past.

"I just wish i don't run into her there," i murmur with a slight tremor in my tone. I knew all too well whom i was talking about.

It's exactly 9 o'clock, my train departs in about 30 minutes. Unfortunately, i'll be in Incheon in a few hours.

"I can't believe you're finally coming back here! I guess i'll have to spend Christmas at your mom's house if that's the case," a sharp, loud feminine voice speaks over the phone; Lusher, a childhood friend.

Lusher has always been with me throughout our high school years and even into adulthood. Despite me moving to Busan a few years ago, we've kept in touch. She always mentions how much she misses me and that i should visit more often, to which i consistently reply, "Maybe someday."

It seems that day has finally come.

"Stop. Don't get too excited; i don't intend to spend much time in this place," I retort, my tone indifferent.

"The entire city already knows you're coming back, Bada."

Briefly, i freeze and fall silent. I only plan to make a short visit to my family, precisely.

"Incheon is wide-ranging; i doubt everyone really knows," I reply, an attempt to reassure myself that my plans won't change.

"Lin knows."

As soon as she counters, i instinctively hang up the phone, my back colliding with the seat of the moving train.

This definitely cannot be happening.

I was praying fervently not to encounter her during my time in Incheon, and i hope it stays that way. Regardless, she wouldn't want to see me after all these years... no, she hates me. I hope she hates me.

It felt like time stood still; i couldn't tell whether i had plunged into a deep sleep during those four hours of travel or if i had ended up in a temporal lapse. I open my eyes, and there's Incheon Station outside the window.

The time has come to face this city once again, with people bustling around, knee-deep in Christmas preparations just hours away.

I step off the train, grab my luggage, and find myself compelled to smile at strangers who somehow recognized me, waving as they passed. Perhaps they did, considering i gained some visibility after opening my dance studio in Busan. Or maybe it's simply because i am notably taller than the average Korean women; either of these reasons would be plausible.

My eyes scan the surroundings, searching for a familiar figure in the crowd. Mom said she would be waiting at the end of the station, my next stop.

"Bada!" Someone yells my name amid that human sea, resembling canned sardines.

My older sister came to greet me, slightly shorter than me, with a delicate and sweet appearance framed by her impeccably cared-for dark brown hair and welcoming smile.

"Haeda!" i respond, happy to see a familiar face, rushing to hug her.

"Mom couldn't come; she's busy with preparations for the dinner later," she shares, helping me with the luggage. "Lots of people are excited to see you, little sister! We're glad you've come back."

"I haven't come back; i'm just joining you for this Christmas season," I respond seriously, making it clear my stay won't extend beyond Christmas.

"You've always been a bit grumpy, haven't you?" she laughs, teasingly.

Finally out of the station, we settle into a taxi. During the ride, we chat casually and laugh about things that happened during our time apart. I'm trying to have some fun as much as possible.

"So, how's your love life?" she asks, innocently.

Oh, crap.

"I don't really want to get into that," i reply, slightly irritated by the question. The fun and nice atmosphere that surrounded us moments ago seems to have abruptly evaporated.

"Seems like you still think about Lin," she murmurs softly to herself, sighing calmly, yet i hear her loud and clear.

I arch my eyebrows, surprised and bothered by Haeda's comment. I plan to stay silent, but i can't resist.

"Why do you always bring her into everything? It's been years since we last spoke; she was just a kid. Now, forget about it," i assert firmly aiming to put an end to the subject once and for all. The silence in the taxi becomes deafening.

Not even five minutes pass, and i ask the taxi make an unscheduled stop.

"Aren't you going home?" my sister inquires, confused.

"I promised to have lunch with Lusher; there's a café around here," i reply, still maintaining a slight arrogance in my voice.

"I'll drop your bags off at home then," she understands, nodding.

I step out of the vehicle and grab my phone, immediately calling Lusher, asking her to meet me where i am. She agrees without a second thought.

A short time passes, and i spot a girl of average height, black hair, always smiling, with a high-pitched voice that stands out in the crowd. She runs towards me as soon as she sees me.

"Is that really you, Bada? It's been ages since i saw you. Have you grown even more?" Lusher enthusiastically hugs me, talking without even taking a breath.

"Looks like you're still talkative... and no, of course, i haven't grown more. I'm already 26. Now I'm just going to shrink," i reciprocate her warm hug as we head to the café.

"Tell me, how's Busan? How's your studio doing? I want the whole scoop!"

"We don't have time for me to give you the full rundown. Overall, the city is comfy, and the studio is doing well," i say, a bit curt; i'm not one to drag out my words.

"That's it? Nothing interesting happening?" she says in a frustrated sigh, still curious about my life.

"I know where you're going with this, miss Lusher, but i'm not commenting on that. I'm kind of fed up with this topic," i respond, making my exasperation clear.

We lapsed into silence for a few minutes until someone finally spoke up; she seemed nervous.

"Listen, i messaged Lin yesterday." She pauses, intending to continue talking.

Lin, Lin, Lin—I'm tired of hearing that name.

"She seems to want to talk to you," Lusher finishes, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Unfortunate. I've already stated that I'm only here for Christmas with my family," i halt, clenching my fists, wanting to say more but finding myself unable.

"Bada, you know she was deeply hurt after you left." Lusher attempts to ease the situation. "After all, you left without telling anyone, not even me."

"I didn't have to tell anyone. I've said that before; new opportunities arose, and that's what happened. Am I to blame for considering my future?" I say, feeling a slight warmth in my body due to the anger this topic brings up

"There's no issue with you wanting to pursue your dreams; the problem was leaving her in the dark out of nowhere. I think you should talk."

"Lusher, i've had enough. I don't owe her any explanations, it's over. I've paved my own way, and she's chosen hers, end of story." Rising abruptly, i toss money on the table for Lusher to settle the bill and i make a swift exit.

I sense Lusher's gaze on me, even though i haven't cast a glance back after leaving the place.

This is why i hate this city—the people, the environment, everything reminds me of her. I despise it; I despise being so coward and weak, unable to endure an environment where her name lingers. Tears stream down my face as i silently reassure myself, "The past is the past; it'll be fine."

It won't be fine.

For quite a while, i just roam around the city, immersed in the festive Christmas decorations and the chilly yet pleasant atmosphere. Families stroll along snow-covered roads, little cafes are buzzling with events, and everyone radiates happiness, caught up in the joy of being together—while i meander alone. I'm the odd one out here.

The city lights gradually begin to flicker on, signaling the encroaching darkness. It's time to head home for the Christmas Eve feast, but before that, i need something to ease my stress.

I head to a nearby convenience store, searching for a pack of cigarettes. I randomly choose any available brand, pay, and head towards a secluded alley.

Turns out, i'm not the only one there; a woman next to me doing the same, and i can't quite see her face. I shake my pockets, searching for my lighter.

"Fuck..." i mutter softly as i lean against the wall, frustrated.

Suddenly, i notice something fall to the ground, accompanied by words.

"Pick it up," the woman, slightly mysterious but oddly familiar, says, tossing the lighter onto the snow-covered ground.

I quickly bend down to grab it. "Thanks," I express promptly, attempting to say something more. "Do you come here often?"

"Sometimes, only when i think about my ex." She pulls the cigarette calmly, allowing the smoke to envelop her face in a thin mist. An ephemeral cloud of smoke slowly wafts around me.

"We're in the same boat," i muse, giving a little laugh at her comment. "Does your ex smoke?"

"Since I've known her. She was always cautious so i wouldn't end up like her; nevertheless, here i am," she narrates with a tense tone.

"You shouldn't smoke; judging by your voice, you've quit for a long time. You should stop while you still can," i suggest while lighting my cigarette with the borrowed lighter.

"Look who wants to give me a moral lecture," she laughs, mocking. The whole situation is ironic.

"Pfft, you don't even know me; you probably think i'm a hypocritical smoker," i admit, in a casual tone.

"Definitely."

"Maybe i really am, but I still have feelings!" I laugh, playfully.

She seems serious now, and we stay silent for a few seconds.

"Have you ever thought about your ex's feelings when you two broke up?" she inquires, finishing her last drag before dropping the cigarette on the ground and crushing it under her foot.

I remain motionless, confused, and unsure of how to respond.

"I'm just messing with you; after all, i don't even know you." She lets out a nervous laugh before completely disappearing into the darkness of that dimly lit alley.

"I'm home," i announce, slipping off my shoes and opening the door.

My mother greets me with a smile as she sets the dining table with the help of my father and sister.

"You're here! It's so good to see you, dear," my mother smiles warmly and hugs me. The scent of kimchi fills the air; she must have been cooking for a long time.

"What's that smell of smoke..." She makes a disgusted face, and i quickly plan an excuse.

"There were some delinquents smoking in the streets; the smell must have clung to me," i say cautiously.

"Looks delicious," i observe the meal on the table after greeting everyone present, trying to change subjects. Despite my reservations about Incheon and the memories this city brings, i feel welcomed and relieved with my family by my side.

"Let's eat!" My father exclaims, excitedly, sitting down and preparing to enjoy the eagerly anticipated tteokguk, a unique skill of my mother.

A few minutes were left for the long-awaited December 25th, and the countdown unfolded gradually.

"I'm eager to know what you brought for us from Busan, little sister!"

"Did i have to bring a present?" I laugh ironically, joking. "Just kidding, i'm sure you guys will like it!"

1 minute to the 25th.

"Wow, i can already hear the neighbors starting the countdown," my sweet and dear mother says.

A sound echoes at the door.

"Knock, knock."

30 seconds to the 25th.

"Oh, let me get that!" I quickly get up from my seat and head to the door.

10 seconds to the 25th.

I grab the keys and swiftly unlock the door, while my family had already started the countdown.

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

I can't believe who is on the other side of the door.

"Lin?"

"Merry Christmas!" the whole family celebrates in unison as i stand there, paralyzed, looking at my former love standing right in front of me.

aaand we're done! i don't know if i should make it a series or not since i'm the lazy type but lmk! also tysm for @/kiyaedits for the dividers. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did, thank you for reading. ❄️

#bada lee x reader #bada lee #angst #light angst #swf2 x reader #swf2 #bada lee swf2 #bada x oc #bada x reader #sw fic #bada lee au #bada lee fanfic

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dominiquelucalover · 2 months ago

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Call me k. I'm here to have a good time and write silly little fics. Get to know me.

Right now, I only write for SWAT. I will write my OC fics.

MDNI; this blog will contain mature content, including smut. Ageless blogs will be blocked.

Request Rules: please be respectful and polite when making a request. I will write fluff, angst, and smut. Themes explored in SWAT or other shows like it may be explored here, including criminal activity. Content warnings will be provided for fics beforehand. If you are triggered by any content listed on the fic, please don't read it. Take care of yourself first and foremost.

I usually only write fem!reader but if you would like gn!reader, please say so in your request. I will also write body-type specific fics (including plus-sized, athletic, and more), again just say what you want included in your request.

I have the right to refuse to write anything that makes me uncomfortable. I do not write daddykink so do not ask for it.

I now have a request game that you can find here. Check it out if you're interested in getting a mystery fic!

Have a nice day.

Who I Write For

SWAT: Dominique Luca, Chris Alonso, Deacon Kay, Victor Tan, Kim Street, Hondo Harrelson

Masterlist

Key: 💫 personal fav; 🌱 fluff; 🛏 smut; 🔪 angst

Dominique Luca

Protect Her: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | 🔪🌱💫 -Summary: When 20 David is after a dangerous suspect, they come across a suspect who is too scared to talk to them, but who is their only lead. PDA Headcanons 🌱 Friends to Lovers Headcanons 🌱 Jealousy Headcanons 🌱 Light 🔪🌱 Center of Danger 🔪🌱💫 Summary: Your Tuesday plans are put on hold when you're caught in the middle of a bank robbery, but as if that didn't put a damper on your day, going into labor in the middle of it certainly did.

Chris Alonso

Friendship Headcanons 🌱 Migraine Headcanons 🌱 You're a Mean One, Babe 🔪🌱 Late 🔪🌱 Homemade 🌱 So Long as You're Happy 🔪🌱 Know Your Style 🌱 Summary: Christmas headcanons of fasion-design!reader and Chris celebrating the holiday together. Rough Patch 🔪🌱 Summary: You and Chris are going through a rough time in your relationship; can it be saved? Stressed 🔪🌱

Deacon Kay

Merry Christmas 🌱💫 Summary: You intend to make the most out of your first Christmas with the Kay family after moving in. Don't Bring Me to Tears When I Just Did My Makeup So Nice 🔪🌱💫 Summary: Your friends told you not to date a cop, that there wouldn't be much of a relationship that way, but you assured them differently. However, as time goes on, you begin to see what was always there Cute Fluffy Idea (more on this later) 🌱 Don't Bring Me to Tears When I Just Did My Makeup So Nice 🔪🌱💫 Summary: your friends told you not to date a cop, that there wouldn't be much of a relationship that way, but you assured them differently. However, as time goes on, you begin to see what was always there and you feel the need to tell Deacon how it's really going to be.

Victor Tan

Dating Headcanons 🌱 Stay In My Memories 🔪 Summary: Being a detective in the LAPD was hard enough as is, what with the ghosts of cases haunting you for years. However, you didn't expect to be haunted by the living as well.

Jim Street

Giving Season 🌱 Summary: Christmas headcanons of Street's girlfriend giving the team special holiday gifts. A Few Headcanons 🛏 Set Astray | Part Two Coming Soon 🔪 Summary: it's been years since you last saw Jim Street, in fact you thought you'd never see him again. But when you do, things have changed. You both have changed. Did You See Me On TV? 🔪 Summary: After getting into an argument with Street, you spend some time apart, but after your team is called out to serve a warrant and things turn south, could it be too late to reconcile?

Hondo Harrelson

Target 🔪 Summary: There's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Hondo's side, but he struggles to commit to you after his job puts you in danger.

OC - Regina Stern

Street's Friend Reggie Summary: Street has a friend who seems to know a lot about a lot. Reggie always comes with information when 20-David least expects it, but no one's seen or even heard him before. So what happens when he comes to HQ unannounced? Unpacking Regina Stern Summary: Regina has come to Street, and S.W.A.T., for one reason and it's time to find out why.

Specific!Readers (feel free to request for these readers with any character)

Apple 🍎 || Doctor PhD 🕵 ||

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frankys-wife · 14 days ago

Note

forgive me for the sins I am about to commit in writing form. made with love and struggle

Woah dude I got a letter for you... Take a look-see

Hey Supergirl!!

I had a SUPER time spending Christmas with you and your family! They’re my kind of people! I can’t wait to go next year. I loved our adventures, and getting to be a part of them with you. That little side trip we took through the woods was terrific! I think we should let you get us lost more often. It’s fun! And the games, we’ve gotta play those more too! Maybe next time you’ll beat me, I bet you can do it! At least once, anyway. Are you gonna invite me to any more family holidays? I’d love to come again. Maybe next time I’ll show off what I made while I’m there!

Thank you for the gifts too, Strawby! I’m thinkin’ about where to put all of these tools, but they’re gonna be put to good use no matter what�� You know, I’m also thinking about getting you a Christmas ornament for next year! Making one myself would be a good challenge. Trading ornaments every winter seems like fun! I’ve got plenty of ideas in mind that I’d like to try making for you.

Coming back around to my first thoughts: It was SUPER that I got to celebrate the holidays with you!! Every day with you is like a holiday anyway, but a special time just for that? Even more SUPER than usual! I’m wondering what else we could do together. I’d like to make some new traditions with you, and learn ALL about the ones you already have! I can’t wait for everything that we’re going to do together!!

P.S. - I’m going all out for Valentine’s Day this year!

P.P.S. - I LOVE YOU !!!!

Franky

AKKDKDFK AHHGG KRUE TYSM FOR THE LETTER! THE STRUGGLE WAS WORTH IT! ILYSM GO GET SOME GOOD REST!!!

Awwww my love, he's so sweet! Franky still hasn't *properly* asked me to be his Valentine but I'm really glad he's planning ahead <3

THIS IS SO GOOD I CAN LIKE LITERALLY JUST HEAD HIM SAYING THIS OUGHFNFJF MY HEART 😭❣️⭐💕❣️

I do really love art but I also really appreciate writing like this ugh I'm saving this!!! TYSM KRUE YOU'RE LITERALLY THE BEST ILY FRIEND!!!

#franky's wife asks #f/o letters #self ship #franky's wife #frankimi #🐎🛠

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suhnflowerstay · 9 months ago

Text

game night

bang chan x afab!reader

a/n: this is based on a real life situation so it might not be super relatable (no description of what reader looks like besides the fact that they're afraid of sitting on his lap)

and it is not representative of any characteristics the idols have or anything lol it's moreso therapeutic. it does require the knowledge of Jackbox Games. quiplash is a game where you get a prompt and you anonymously write down what you think is the funniest answer and everyone votes for the funniest one. i'm posting this twice because i originally wrote it for mark but my sister thought it was well suited for chan as well soooo yeah!

wc: 2.9k

tags: toxic situationship vibes (like really toxic), smoking, high emotions, angst, smut, sad ending

You and Chan had known each other for a few years. You had initially met on vacation and got each other's contact information to keep in touch. You were talking all the time and FaceTiming nearly every day. You were friends, such close friends that you decided to go to the same university. Once you moved to his area for college, you were spending all your time with each other. Eventually, the sexual tension between you began to build and before you knew it, your situationship began.

A few months before your friends with benefits relationship with Chan began, he had been sharing with you how messy his previous arrangement was. You had seen other girls come and go because they could never handle him sticking by his word and refusing to commit to them. You were also not interested in commitment, so you felt comfortable going into it. You knew exactly who you were friends with, so you assumed you would be fine. You were just friends who had a sexual attraction to each other. There was no reason that having sex would have to complicate things, right? Wrong.

Yes, there are people who can have a healthy friends with benefits style relationship. Sex is easy to detach from for some more than others. Your relationship with Chan was anything but detached. You were best friends who had sex, and the gray area was extremely gray. You were practically dating without the label, and that brought a lot of negative feelings bubbling up. But you both didn't want commitment. You were terrified of being vulnerable in that way and he, well… he just loved the attention.

Chan's cousin Felix was hosting a game night with some friends, and he wanted you to come along and meet everyone. When you two arrived at Felix’s house, you introduced yourself, and the first words out of his mouth were:

“Are you the one that called on Christmas?”

Immediately, Chan jumped into action to try to shut Felix up. He stood in front of you and blocked Felix from view, mumbling, “No, that was someone else.” You knew he had a previous situationship leading up to your current situationship with him; this was no secret. You knew this because you were the one to talk him through the end of that relationship. You just hadn't realized how intense it must've been if Bang Chan was bringing that "friend with benefits" to meet the family.

You had small talk with Felix, asking him what his major was, and he asked you yours. He offered you drinks and snacks, and you took a seat on the sectional with Chan taking the seat right next to you. You two were in your own little world, giggling about god knows what while he had his arm around you, when all of a sudden the door behind you swings open.

“CHAN PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE DONE THE ENGINEERING HOMEWORK!” the disheveled boy yelled. You giggled because of how insane this random man appeared with his backpack barely slung over his shoulder, hair a mess, running up to take a seat on the couch diagonal to you two.

“Y/N, this is Minho. Minho, this is Y/N.”

Minho’s brain is going a million miles an hour, and the first thing he thinks to ask is:

“Are you two dating?”

You and Chan look at each other, and he says, “No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh," the disheveled man says, "Well, it looks like you two are dating.”

Minho proceeds to talk to Chan about whatever homework they had, and his whole demeanor has you nearly falling off the couch with how hard he has you laughing. He has major himbo energy and says everything with so much passion. At one point, he ends a story he's telling with, “WHATEVER FUCKOOO!”

Soon, more of Felix and (kind of) Chan's friends start showing up. A taller guy who catches your eye greets you. He says his name is Hyunjin and makes light conversation with you, asking how you know Chan and Felix and asking how long you've lived in the city. There are also three guys in the corner smoking, and one of them catches your eye as you hear his distinct giggle while he laughs with his friends. Is Chan only friends with hot people, you think. The last guy walks in and very quietly says hi and immediately walks across the room to sit between his friends. Chan lets you know that the shy guy, also known as Jisung, is really shy with strangers, but he's sure Jisung will warm up by the end of the night.

Felix loads up Jackbox Games, and your group plays Trivia Murder Party for a few rounds, and then, a guy named Seungmin says he thinks the group should play Quiplash. There are a few rounds where you make some pretty good jokes, and all of the guys hype you up, telling Chan he brought someone super funny to game night. You even make a quip at Chan's expense, and Minho high-fives you for doing so. At this point, you've had a few drinks, and you aren't drunk, just tipsy. But you absolutely need to pee. You ask Chan where the bathroom is, since this is his cousin's house, and he leads you to the bathroom, waiting for you outside the door. Once you’re done, he drags you to the empty bedroom across from the bathroom and lays back on the bed, pulling you down you on top of him.

“Are you having fun?” he looks up at you.

“Mhm," you hum, "are you?”

“Yeah."

"Your friends are nice. Minho's super funny. I can't believe he's real,” you giggle.

"Yeah, he is... ok, c'mon. Let’s go back before they think we’re having sex or something," he says abruptly. You thought his response was weird, but you didn't think too much about it.

“What are you doing?" he questions, "Come on. Sit down.”

You pause. “I-I'm okay. I don’t want to like hurt your legs or anyth-”

Chan pulls you down on his lap, so you’re forced to sit down on him. He asks if you want to smoke, and you take a singular hit, not really interested in doing that, and watch the game from afar. Minho has his eyes trained on you two, and you feel his stare. You turn to look at him, and he yells from across the room, “Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

You giggle saying, "Yes, we’re sure we aren’t dating."

He tilts his head to the side like a confused kitty and proceeds to ask “So, are you guys cousins?” and you cannot stop yourself from keeling over because what does he MEAN?? What kind of line of questioning is that? Why would his brain jump from dating to cousins? You look at Chan incredulously as you both laugh and confirm once again that you are just friends.

You two keep watching the game, rather than participate, and go back to your own little world until Chan decides he’s ready to go home. You follow him out, saying a single goodbye to everyone in the room. Everyone bids you goodbye in their own way with many of the guys saying how nice it was to meet you and how you should definitely come to game night again. You two walk out and Chan unlocks the car before remembering he has to go back in to get something from Felix. You sit and wait in the car, smiling to yourself, and text your best friend about game night. You make sure to mention the beautiful man you met and how funny it was that he asked if you and Chan were cousins.

Once he enters the car, he slides his hand onto your thigh.

“Did you have fun?” he asks, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Yes, actually. I really didn't think I would, but that was so nice and all of your friends seem so cool! Minho is such a himbo it’s so funny... I can’t believe you guys are taking the same classes.” you add.

You don't notice, but Chan's hand clenches the steering wheel. He doesn’t say anything and begins the drive home. You stop by the grocery store on your way home to pick up some snacks, and everything between you and Chan seems pretty light hearted.

You get back to his place, shower, and change into pajamas. You two sit on the couch for a bit longer watching shows and just snacking, cuddled up together. You get up to go to the restroom, leaving your phone behind on the coffee table, and when you come back, Chan is in a noticeably different mood. His body language is tense, and he’s moved away from your original spot.

“Channie… what’s wrong?” you ask, still standing.

“Nothing. What are you talking about?”

“It just seems like... like there’s something bothering you,” you insisted.

“Why would anything be bothering me? You’re literally making something out of nothing!” he snapped.

Now, you're officially in a bad mood.

“Fine then! Forget I even asked,” you huffed, collapsing onto the opposite side of the couch to go through your phone.

Half an hour later, your anger has subsided, and you're back to being invested in the show you’re watching. Then, the leading man betrays his love interest.

“Ughhhhhh," you drone, "Why does every man suck? Like even him? You have to be joking.”

“I bet Minho would never do that…” Chan mumbled mockingly from his side of the couch.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” you snarled.

“Nothing.”

“Please do not fucking tell me that you’re upset over Minho, a man I only just met a few hours ago,” you scoffed.

“Oh, so you’re counting the hours,” Chan said, not even looking at you.

“Chan, shut the fuck up! What are you saying right now? What is your deal? I don’t even know or care about Minho!”

“You sure seemed to care when you texted your friend about how hot and funny you thought he was,” he said, finally looking up at you to see your reaction.

“Motherfucker, you went through my phone? Again? Are you fucking joking? Why would you do that?”

“You’re a fucking liar, Bang Chan. I know you didn’t see me texting it. And either way, what does it matter to you? Newsflash! In case you weren't aware, I’m not your girlfriend! You made sure of it, and you also made sure everyone knew that tonight!”

Chan scoffed, “What did you want me to say to them? 'Oh yeah we’re fucking’?”

“it doesn’t matter what you say to them because we aren’t anything. And that means you don’t get to be upset over me texting my friend that i thought your friend was attractive," you emphasize, "You’ve done far worse or would you like me to remind you about your sexting with Soyeon or sending good morning and goodnight texts to Sana when you couldn’t even find two seconds to text me back even if it was just to let me know you were busy?"

Chan sits there knowing he can't say anything to that.

“So you would want to see him again?” he tries to say steadily, but his voice cracks.

You look up and see that Chan is looking at the ground now and has tears in his eyes.

“Chris…” you put your arm around him and embrace him.

He looks down at your lips and hesitates before he kisses you. The kiss starts off slow and slowly progresses into a more passionate, needy one. Chan is grabbing at your hips, your stomach, your arms, whatever he can get a grip on. He starts whining and pulls away, “Please take off your clothes, babygirl. I need you.”

You both strip down in his living room. Chan carefully lays you down on the couch and lines himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing himself in all the way without any issue. You guess high intensity and emotional situations just make you wet now after all the arguments you've had with this man.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight," he praises, "You always make me feel so big. it always feels like the first time.”

You moan and beg Chan to move, and slowly, he does. While there’s still a desperate neediness in the air, Chan is moving slowly and intentionally. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours while caressing your body. He praises every inch of you that he touches, littering you with compliments. He traces a finger along every curve and focuses on tracing circles on your tits, teasing your nipple ever so slightly before finally taking the buds between his fingers. He squeezes them, eliciting moans from your "pretty little mouth" as he calls it. He keeps one hand focused on your breast while he uses the other arm to hold himself up as he leans down to kiss you, maintaining the slow but steady rhythm. You wrap your legs and arms around him, pinning him to your chest. This position makes it so much more intimate, and you swear that he's hitting even deeper. The combination is pushing you right up to the edge. By the way Chan starts moaning, you can tell he feels the same.

“Fuck baby, I'm so close,” he groans

“Please cum inside me, Daddy. I need it so bad.”

“Ugh, f-fuck, beautiful, I can’t until you do. Please cum with me baby girl and- fuck- and I’ll fill you up as much as you want.”

“I-" he hesitated, "I’m sorry I went through your phone again,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your cheekbone.

“It’s okay, Chan,” you reassure him.

“I just- I knew you’d like him. I could tell from the way you were looking at him and how he was looking at you. Minho is never interested in other people let alone other people’s relationships. I knew if he was asking if we were dating, it was so he could ask you out, and it made me freak out," he sighs.

“You have no way of knowing that, Channie,” you reason.

“Regardless, I meant what I said. I know we aren’t official, but I'm only loyal to you.”

He lays back down, and you say nothing.

You say nothing because this is a conversation you have often.

You say nothing because as much as you want to commit to Chan, you probably also aren’t ready.

You say nothing because the previous statement is probably a lie you tell yourself to make yourself feel better in this relationship you have with him.

You say nothing because you know there will be more instances of you finding text messages with other people in which he gives them more compliments/attention/time than he gives you.

You say nothing because you know he isn’t loyal to you at all, and you’d rather not start another fight tonight.

You say nothing because there is nothing here to fight for.

You say nothing as he falls asleep in your arms, and you see his phone light up with a text.

minho: hey can i get y/n's number

#chan #bang chan #christopher bahng #christopher bang #chris bang #bangchan #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #christopher bahng x reader #christopher bang x reader #chris bang x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #stray kids #bang chan smut #bang chan angst

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