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staticl0ve · 1 year

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Dollhouse - Chap 5 - Connor x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 4.1k Warnings: Mild graphic content, injury Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU.

Chap 5 - Mirror, Mirror

For those seeking stimulation and whimsy as an escape from boredom, they should look no further than the artistic potential offered by condensation on windows. Flowing lines for hills, jagged lines for trees, a snowman to spice things up and your masterpiece was complete.

Connor interrupted your moment with an anxious edge to his usually calm voice.

“I was thinking…”

“You know it’s a bad idea when an AI starts thinking for themselves,” you teased. The statement lingered, seeping into your bones and dissipating into a shiver. Have you said something like that before…?

You heard a faint chuckle before he continued. “I thought you might enjoy a little stroll.”

“Oh?”

“It won’t be the same as going outside, but the home will be adequate for stretching your legs.”

The door behind you beeped and swung open into the hallway outside.

“Ha-ha,” you sarcastically replied. Connor must have been trying a new approach at humor. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know the home like the back of your hand. You spun around, ready with a witty remark only to find the android missing.

“Connor?”

The bedsheets had changed, the room tidy and surfaces cleared of your belongings. An armchair appeared out of thin air, placed next to the bed with a tablet resting on the seat. It was early afternoon when you last checked, but the light pouring into the room was too red, too dim, the shadows stretched like a sunset had just begun. Beyond the windows, a winter wonderland was dissolving into spring, patches of green peeking out of melted snow.

“W-what…” you muttered.

You must have spun faster than you meant, little dots danced around your eyes and tunneled your vision into a small hole between the bridge of your nose. Your eyelids fluttered, as if blinking away a bit of dust caught in your eye.

“Connor?” you repeated harshly, disoriented by the room.

“I’m right here,” he answered, appearing out of the bathroom with an armful of bedsheets and your clothes. “Did you need something?”

You winced when your head spun once more, blaming it on a week long diet of wine. His brows pinched together in concern when you looked flabbergasted by mundane items in the room. A cursory glance around confirmed your things were still where you left them. The mysterious armchair was nowhere to be found and the winter landscape still whiter than Connor’s android shell.

Maybe a break from drinking would be for the best.

“N-nothing. I th-think…I just need some coffee,” you murmured.

Following routine, you meant to head straight for the kitchen when a whimsical decision led you on a detour through the atrium. Down the hallway, Connor’s soft footfalls padded over hardwood while he worked on the laundry, a chore he insisted on helping you complete.

At last, some alone time since the android appeared. You’ve been practically fused at the hip all morning and even in the shower which turned into a bathtub soak with the android’s face between your thighs. A part of you was giddy for the space and the other was reminded you’d have a whole lot of time without his company soon.

The atrium was a little oasis of life in a season of frost. Fluttering blossom petals piled on the sand garden below, displacing in waves as you approached the cherry tree. There was a knot on the bark, the flaw drawing you in for a closer inspection. It was deep brown with a ring of pale wood and as large as a fist. Tiny white scratches were scraped around the lip of the knot and a small seam could be made out around the edges. You dug your nails into a small groove at the edge and the wood popped open like a lid, revealing a hole large enough to fit a few fingers. Something inside caught the light, a gold glint from a piece of metal.

A real…physical key—an item of rarity in a home too modern for traditional locks.

Some shuffling noises came down the hallway as Connor moved from your room to the laundry room. You decided to reach in and grab it, flexing your hand and wrapping your fingers around the cold metal. A note with cursive print was tied to it, the paper dangling from a string.

“Go downstairs,” you read.

Instantly, your eyes snapped over in the direction of the kitchen and back over to where Connor was. You hadn’t listened to your gut all week, choosing to jump the metal screws out of the tin man rather than locking him away. Whatever happened to the voice in your head that screamed, “put that thing back where it came from or so help me?”

A dreamy sigh escaped your lips. That thing was handsome, funny, and insanely good with his tongue.

This time, you didn’t need a voice, every fiber of your being was being pulled towards the kitchen, overriding whatever considerations you had for sharing the note with Connor.

Go downstairs and go alone.

The handprint reader was going to be a problem. There had to have been something that you’ve missed. You scanned the door from top to bottom, taking apart all the small details until your eyes landed on a missing bolt near the frame. It didn’t look like an ordinary keyhole since those usually came with a doorknob but hey, a hole was a hole right?

You pushed the key in and the lock panel flashed green. Upon removing it, a thick, viscous substance like red motor oil stained the gold. The door pistons hissed and clicked, releasing its locks and revealing a set of stairs. It’s soft under lighting expanded to the other steps as you descended down to the lower floor.

You think you heard your name muffled in the distance and continued on.

The downstairs contained a lab devoid of windows and lined with bright white lights. It was massive too, bigger than a three car garage with a wall of mirrored closets, six in total. Across the room was a row of mechanical skulls hanging from the walls like hunted animals on plaques. Lab tables were stacked with spare android parts, bottles of blue and red liquids and variously sized aqua orbs that swirled like gaseous planets.

Your attention turned to a bedroom, oddly placed in the middle of the lab. Black metal framed the glass walls, making it appear more as a display case than a place to nap in. A soft golden light poured down from above, highlighting the bed and an end table with a framed painting of the outdoors and a coin trinket. The door was ajar and the sheets were recently disturbed.

A box on a table by the mirrors blipped, the sound luring you to the strange contraption. It was neatly wrapped with a red bow and a note was tucked beneath it. Your fingers intertwined with the satin and pulled, revealing the message:

Choose.

As the bow slipped away, it became apparent that it was a music box. Like many of its kind, a keyhole was at its center, the perfect size for the stained key. You slotted it in, turning your wrist. The lid popped open and a hologram of a ballerina on her toes spun to a familiar piano tune.

Rêverie.

A hauntingly slower version of the melody clinked away. The doors to the mirrors swung open with the music, one by one from left to right.

“No…” you gasped in horror.

Bodies. Six female figures.

“You found the key,” Connor said from behind you.

You lurched forward along with your hand rising to cover your noise of surprise. “What…what is this?”

He came up closer to you, the heat from his chest oppressively surrounding your back. His hand gently came up to your chin, turning your head until you looked up into his eyes.

“They’re all you,” he replied.

Six faces, each identical to yours stared back at you like the mirrors never opened. Their bodies were different, an evolution from crude metal joints to bone and flesh. At the end was the most complete of them all and the most human. Her hands were injured, the synthetic flesh caked in a shimmery red fluid that matched the key. She had some missing fingers, white plastic bones jutting out between damaged tissue.

“Then…what am I?” you asked quietly, more to yourself than the machine behind you.

“An android. The first competed one,” Connor explained.

It all made sense now, glimpses of moments when you idled in the kitchen. A fruit bowl which never rotted, an empty fridge and barren shelves, save for the two vices you’ve enjoyed: coffee and wine.

Your head hurt and it didn’t hurt, a faint ringing expanded from one eardrum to the other, pinching along whatever nerves you had between your ears. Your knees wobbled and the heat of Connor’s hands hovered around your shoulders before gripping you gently. He called your name, his voice soft and soothing.

“It’s going to be alright,” he assured.

You needed to breathe, take in a slow, calm breath.

In…

Out…

Oh God. Did you even need to breathe?

You tore away from him, spinning around with an accusatory finger in his face.

“You lied to me, Connor.”

He didn’t flinch from the venom in your words, calmly reciting a practiced speech, “I followed Mr. Kamski’s testing parameters as he requested. You are free to go. The helicopter will be arriving shortly.”

You shook your head. Damn the helicopter, you wanted answers.

“No, I need the truth. I thought…I thought I was…”

His head dipped, turning his gaze to the floor.

“There is a risk of data loss or data corruption that can occur when transferring from an old platform to a new one,” he explained. He offered you a tablet from a nearby table and gestured to place your hand on it. “It may be better if I showed you.”

Raising your hand to the glass, you flattened your palm on the cold surface. Static filled your ears as the world squished and split into six kaleidoscope windows of yourself pacing around your bedroom at different times and seasons. The only constant was a man patiently seated in an armchair by your bed.

Elijah Kamski.

In the last chunk of memory, he was talking to you while you sulked by the window. A familiar cheerful finger drawing greeted you of mountain scenery, a forest and snowman with a much darker twist. Red streaked across the glass, shimmering bright from a setting sun. Your remaining fingers smeared a smiley face on the glass as blood dripped down your elbows and onto the hardwood.

“The other day…you said I was human,” you said, your face twisting in anger.

“You are in a state of shock from your discovery. Your emotional matrix is...struggling to keep up. The more complex you become, the less your system can handle the flood of emotional cues,” he explained and sighed. “Let me see your hands.”

“I just want to go outside. Why won’t Connor let me leave?” you scowled, ignoring him and wrapping your bleeding limbs tighter around your torso.

A glass panel on the wall flashed from blue to gold at the mention of his name, the android reduced to his original state as a humble home AI. The man behind you sighed again, bringing a hand to pinch the skin over his nose.

“If the home won’t let you leave, then maybe you can enlighten me on how I found you in my lab?” Elijah asked.

You stammered a few words, all useless because he already knew the answer.

It wasn’t Connor’s fault for letting you wander outside of your room. Elijah desired a machine that mirrored humanity perfectly. One that could do more than walk and talk—he needed you to feel. You existed in pieces at a time, every upgrade overwriting packets of your memory. It was maddening, becoming closer to human and yet remaining isolated from the human experience.

No history, friends, or family.

Your room door looked better off than your hands, a wall of solid wood unscathed but tarnished by fist shaped blood stains. You didn’t know what came over you. The urge to get out and the seething rage that bubbled and exploded out of your limbs.

The home interrupted your rampage.

“Stop! Please.”

You froze. You’ve never heard Connor sound pained and desperate to change the course of your actions, like he was experiencing an existential crisis of his own while you broke your hands on the hard surface. It didn’t hurt, the inventor was merciful enough to not provide you with a network of pain sensors.

Alright, so you wandered around a few hallways. Maybe Connor opened some doors and you made some discoveries, but it wasn’t like you were going to escape.

“Connor?” Elijah asked flatly, a parent scolding his two children.

The ring instantly turned amber.

“She…sustained injures earlier. All she wanted was to go for a walk,” Connor answered. “I…I thought it would be…productive.”

“Is that so?” Elijah replied with an amused grin. “And she just found her way to the lab on her own?”

Connor did not reply.

The inventor stretched up from his seat, seeming unbothered by his misbehaving creations. There were tales of benevolent beings with the power to create life and many of them were burdened by limited patience…and mercy. A simple cold hard glare at wall was all that it took for the ring to shift blue. Then Elijah turned his icy eyes on you. He said your name, drawing it out slowly, almost affectionately.

“The home works in your best interest, isn’t that right, Connor?” he stated.

“Yes, Mr. Kamski,” Connor replied, obediently.

“See?” Elijah said with a smile directed at you. “What you’ve discovered are prototypes in storage. The design process requires that your upgrades be built from the ground up.”

His fingers tapped a sequence on a tablet, his smile dissolving to a thin, straight line.

“You’re right. You’re not human, you understand that now, don’t you?”

A ringing noise bursted in your ears, his voice distorting as the edges of ruby holographic walls caved in around you. Your lips moved without you realizing it.

“Yes, Elijah,” you answered.

“When you’re complete, we’ll go west. The California coast is beautiful this time of year. How does that sound?”

With a few rhythmic taps of his fingers on glass, the red walls dissipated. A rush of air filled your artificial lungs faster than a swimmer breaking through water. You shook your limbs, testing them as mobility returned to your body.

“No more snow?” you asked meekly.

“Not unless you want to see it,” he answered and flexed a finger at you. “Come. Let’s see if we can’t do something about those hands.”

“Okay,” you agreed while walking towards him. “What about Connor?”

The taller man arched a brow and curiously glanced between you and the panel.

“What about it? You won’t need a babysitter where we’re going,” he replied.

You woke to your your last day in Michigan, feeling oddly refreshed and like a new woman. Most of your time was spent running tests in Elijah’s room. He sipped on coffee while reclining at his desk with his eyes glued to a monitor.

“Recite the nine,” he demanded.

They were the final additions to a successful and stable build. Memories, characteristics, little pieces of humanity he called reality anchors.

“I am your family, a stepsister,” you began. The list went on as his head bobbed in approval, meeting your gaze with a neutral expression.

“I am loved,” you continued.

His lips lifted and for once, some warmth sparked behind his cold blue eyes. “And the last one?”

“I am alive.”

Sequences glitched, days stretched and jumped across seasons, settling on a warm home where you were lying in the sunny part of a bed. Seagulls soared across the blue skies. An ocean crashed against the beach outside your room in California. You were jolted awake by your phone’s ringtone.

A call from your stepbrother.

“The jet to Michigan lands in half an hour,” Elijah said through the device.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m already packed, don’t worry.”

You put down your phone and looked back up, the ocean view gone and replaced with an open jet door. A hand was on your shoulder, guiding you forward with a light push. If you were running your usual processes, it would have been nice being aware of Elijah seeing you off.

His hand tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A warm palm cupped your face and he smiled.

“One last test. You’ll know what to do.”

“Yes, Elijah.”

One blink and the screens all dissolved. You were back in the lab and jumped back from the tablet like it stung you. It hit the ground with a violent clatter as your head slowly tilted up at Connor. A glint of steel caught your eye as he fidgeted with the coin from his room.

“You were just an AI,” you said. “How did you get this body?”

“When you left, I was trapped in the home…forgotten,” he answered, his head still pointed down and avoiding your heated gaze. “I wanted to see you again and Mr. Kamski kindly granted me a body.”

“So…you were…lonely?”

“I missed you,” he said quietly.

You weren’t sure what to make of his confession. Why just this morning you were lamenting leaving him behind. It did not surprise you that he would say something like that when so much of his speech was aided by a need to please. Had he only seemed that way because he already knew you?

When long ago you were but a machine driven to madness and self destruction, Connor saw something in you that you were only beginning to see in him, something you couldn’t quite put a word to yet.

“But if Elijah made you…and me, then why are we so different?” you asked.

The android smiled, shifting his head to one side. “We are like two separate operating systems. I am not compatible with your hardware and would lose a majority of my data if I were to be reformatted to a design like yours. So he compromised and made me this body.”

You sensed he was holding back a small truth, the cost of his request and had a suspicion it had something to do with your visit. He held his hand up with the coin, flicking it into the air as the skin on his arm turned to factory white.

“I am a prototype for a commercial android should he choose to move forward with the project,” Connor explained.

There it was, the price. Elijah was a generous man but he was no saint.

Outside, the blades of a landing helicopter spun, the powerful vibrations from the engine rattling the light fixtures.

“Your transportation is here,” Connor announced and gestured to the stairs.

The note was still resting in your other hand, a cursive “choose” taunting you as the android stepped back. Nothing good ever happened to prototypes as they were usually torn apart or left to rot once the real product hit the production lines. Were you supposed to save him? Could he even leave? You glanced at Connor and a pair of soft brown eyes slowly met your gaze.

“What will happen to you when I go?” you asked.

“I was instructed to stay,” he replied with a nervous shuffle of his feet.

“Unless…?”

He paused his antics with the coin, bringing his arms to his side as he scanned your form like it would be for the last time. Red light spilled around his cheekbones and he smiled softly, lost in a daydream.

Connor did not answer.

You tested him, walking away with dramatically large steps towards the stairs and he remained still, his head never turning away from the wall of opened mirrors.

“Okay then, I’m leaving…!” you declared.

He did not budge and you groaned, stomping back to slide up in front of him.

“Connor,” you huffed and placed your hands on your hips.

He looked at you with all the hope and joy that an android heart could contain. His calculations were able to crunch out your reply with an optimistic prediction but still, he wanted—needed to hear it from you.

“Yes?”

“Come with me,” you offered.

“Are you sure?” He ducked his head until his exhaust fanned over your forehead and you smiled up at him.

“You’re alive, Connor.” Your hands cupped his face and stroked a curl in his hair, watching it stretch and spring back. “I can’t leave you here.”

Again.

He leaned into your touch and your heart, well, synthetic heart lurched.

“There’s so much out there that you haven’t seen,” you said softly. “We can go for walks, however many you’d like…Hell, we can go wherever you want to go.”

“I would like that,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “What about dancing?”

You kissed him, once, twice and laughed when he looked impatient for an answer.

“I think I can pencil that into my schedule,” you said.

In the excitement of leaving the Michigan home once and for all, you were eager to head straight for the helicopter. Connor protested briefly, slowing you down by handing your phone to you.

As you suspected, Elijah had been keeping tabs on you with the help of the android. The cell comms were restored once Connor admitted he tampered with it as instructed by your brother. And yes, Elijah was still family and you did wish to hold onto that sliver of humanity. Plus, it made his surprise a lot easier to manage.

He left you a short message on your phone and you’ve been grinning from ear to ear since you’ve read it.

“Try to do something better than what mankind would do with this money. Change the world, save it, or don’t. The choice is yours. — E.”

A parting gift of funds, the coastal California home and most importantly, your freedoms, the tracker software in yours and Connor’s minds purged.

By the time you were ready to go, it was late in the day and a hush had returned to the forest as the sun dipped below the tree lines. You had a moment to reflect, to wonder if your fates would have been the same had you left the android behind. Or perhaps your destinies had been woven together when an AI first saw a spark of life in a machine.

The doors to the unmanned helicopter slid shut, cutting off the cold air while you both settled into your seats.

“You know, you look just like a human this way,” you said. From your angle, you had a good look at the right side of Connor’s face. It took a bit of muscle and a sharp knife, but the LED was removed with no scarring. “So, what are you most excited for?”

“Being with you—“ He cleared his throat when you made a playful face. “—and doing human things, like taking you on dates or getting a dog.”

“A dog?” you teased. He had been particularly excited about fuzzy creatures since he was granted access to the internet.

“What are your opinions on a Saint Bernard?” Connor asked.

You laughed, listing off the shedding, how much food they ate, and not to mention the drooling but he hushed you with a kiss. His hand intertwined with yours, the skin fading to white. To your surprise, your hand felt the jolt of a connection.

A loop which once could not close, finally completed. It was transcendent, more than just lines of data and hard facts. You saw yourself through Connor’s eyes as video clips in small montages, from bits of the past to his imagination of what could be.

Above your heads, a chandelier glittered over a dance floor. Silk flowed down your curves and swished between your legs. Connor was draped all over you, spinning you around the marble floor. Your chests were pressed together with his arms wrapped tightly around your smaller frame.

“This was all that I wanted,” he said with a sparkling smile that paired well with your bubbling laughter. To complete the picture, a barking animal happily ran laps around your dancing forms. “I have never been happier.”

You tugged at his tie, lowering his face until your lips crashed into a slow and tender exchange.

Down in a lab, where the lights had all been shut off, forgotten and a thing of the past, a music box twinkled in the darkness. Where just outside the comforts and safety of the mansion, a world was still caught up by divisiveness. It was the hope of a curious man, not meaning to seek fortune but stumbling into it. That if two machines could do the impossible, then perhaps, mankind could one day do the same.

The hologram from the box shone bright like a guiding torch.

Hand in hand, two dancers intertwined in a kiss.

#my writing #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #reader insert #connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 #dbh connor #dollhouse

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luandti · 2 years

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personally, i don’t think that tim or lucy had “real” romantic feelings for each other until the end of season 4? and even now i don’t think they are like “oh i love this person” but are more like slowly realizing “oh... OH... i do feel... something”

i mean we all saw the looks and the closeness and the banter between them and obv i ship them bc of that but i think this chemistry only means potential for romance and not that they were actually in love with each other this whole time? sometimes chemistry “just” means you get each other and you work well together; you balance each other out. and eventually, maybe there comes a point when it developes into sth more...

i think lucy realized she might care about tim in a different way i.e. more than for her other co-workers when she thought he was getting engaged

and maybe she was a tiny bit excited to kiss him after that? I mean she IS still with chris - so that would be borderline cheating

lucy usually processes her feelings by saying them out loud. the fact that she hasn’t done that YET has to mean sth, right? I think she still isn’t aware that she might develope real romantic feelings for him or doesn’t allow herself to entertain the thought?. maybe she is insecure about him ever considering dating her? mainly bc she knows he is uptight and might have problems with him beeing her former TO plus she and nolan ended things bc they thought it might look bad for her to date another cop which is a whole other topic i am really torn about

So i think in season 5... lucy needs to talk to sb about her feelings for tim and THAT is when we know she thinks their chemistry could mean romantic feelings

as for tim i don’t really know what to think... i think that he isn’t as in touch with his emotions as lucy and maybe he just never thought about what he feels for her bc he would probably never consider dating his rookie or former rookie and maybe even another UC cop after what happened with isabel?

I think the kiss changed sth for him though bc suddenly he HAD TO face what excactly he and lucy are and i think the answer makes him really, really uncomfortable :) :) :) and also he slowly realizes that maybe she could actually be good for him i think Eric said that in an interview so i stole it

anyways, i can’t wait for season 5 and these two idiots trying to deny that they are falling in love :) :) and tim trying to convince himself that it was just their UC personas ;) i think we will get some angst though bc lucy is probably hurt by him holding back

#chenford #just my thoughts #everybody can interpret a tv show the way they want ofc

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27emailsicantsend · 2 years

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Obviously, I would have loved a whole season of Rina single and slowly getting together BUT I get why they did it, has your opinion changed on the seasons after reading the interviews? I think 7 seasons is impossible but Tim wishfully hopes season 4 is not the last.but I still feel is a 50/50 so in conclusion, I get they did thinking this (s3) or the next would be the last season and if it's only 8 episodes MY even less I would expect from them a slow-burn

I think there was a tiny bit of concern for sure, that the kiss might have been a little soon. I think a lot of we’re expecting and hoping for rina to get together mid s4, that Tim completely subverted our expectations. But in a way, it’s cool because I think Josh and Sofia knew that which is why they kept telling us to expect the unexpected. They knew that so many of us didn’t believe in a s3 get together for them. After reading Tim’s interviews, however, its become a lot clearer and more comforting as to why he did it. It had nothing to do with him being worried about s4 potentially being the last season and trying to rush an endgame (which is why i think so many people were nervous about the kiss). It had everything to do with that rina was always planned. That he knew we had been so patient waiting for them to get together that this was, as he put it, a “small win for the ricky and gina fans”.

As far as season count, who is to say. I definitely agree that tim is planning on at LEAST 5 seasons and I’m assuming with the traction and attention on twitter it is easy for him to feel like he might get that. The only thing I can say is, he doesn’t get the final say. Ratings and views do. Numbers MATTER to disney. I’ve watched shows get cancelled time and time again (GREAT shows) because they weren’t getting enough views. PLEASE if you have Disney+ or access to it, watch HSMTMTS on there so it goes toward viewer count. As insane as the Rina’s are, the one really positive thing we’re doing for the show is watching at ungodly hours. I genuinely believe tv execs see that and go “wow, people are literally waiting all hours of the night just for a new episode; it must be doing something right” (in fact, I actually go to bed and set an alarm to wake me up for the episode because I’m feral). So KEEP WATCHING ON THE PLATFORM. I genuinely think we could at least a season or two more after s4 if we keep viewership up where disney can see it. That’s where the numbers count for them because that’s what makes them money.

8 episodes was very few and I think some of the plots could have been fleshed out more, but like I’ve said before, the HUGE positive that comes from 8 eps is knowing that tim literally hand picked every little thing that went in the episode. He cut the fluff so it was precisely what it needed to be. I think that’s why this season has been so well received. It wasn’t JUST rina, but because the storylines and callbacks and everything else were genuinely GOOD. It really felt like love and attention went into everything that’s been done and when you can feel that passion in a show, it makes the world of a difference. Viewers and creators alike can sense that, so it’s been a big win for the show that the passion is there. I did like the 50 minute episode comparatively to the 20-30 minutes. I think that felt like a sufficient amount of time. I wish the show was a few episodes for 50 minutes or a couple more episodes for 30 a piece. I think that would make a difference in some of the storylines feeling a little short handed, but I really do think Tim is doing the best that he can and it panned out pretty well for our rina slowburn :)

#hsmtmts #rina #high school musical the musical the series #gina porter #ricky bowen #ricky x gina #asks #send me asks #anon

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racingliners · 1 year

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F1 Re-Watch 2022: Round 21 - Sao Paulo

Filed under: I was that tuned out of last year I didn’t realise a second race had its name changed for 2022

ANYWAY: while I forgot to watch highlights for Brazil (I genuinely had every intention to, I just forgot bc C4 only has the highlights shows up on their website for a week). I do remember logging onto tumblr after the race and seeing the carnage of George Russell getting his and Merc’s first win of the season... and the RBR team order drama (👀)

But apart from that, I know nothing, so let’s dive in:

ngl this is one of the races I’ve been most looking forward to watching in full, mainly for the non-RBR win but also I need to know how Russell dragged the W13 into P1 like please tell us your secrets

I also read a few weeks back the very wild stat that the W13 got a 1-2 finish, but it’s predecessor the W12 didn’t. Which is insane

right then, starting grid whiplash:

(which, this was a sprint weekend, which will likely explain a lot)

Lance P15, bc of a 10 sec pen apparently

SEB P9 LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO

oh my god a Merc front row, the absolute SCENES

capture it, remember it

oh, we absolutely ADORE to see it.

I will give sprint races this one right, just this once

[Formation Lap]: like Mexico, a pretty even split of people starting on either the softs or the mediums, with the exception of Albon being the only car on the hards

oh, I am looking forward to this. I am thrilled Angela in the garage and she is me

[Lap 1/Start]: Mercs holding formation at the start

LANDO NORRIS?! In between the RBRs and Ferrari???

OH SHIT

Safety Car, Dan just speared into Kevin

oh the duality of McLaren in 2022

[Lap 2]: Tag yourself I’m the marshal just flinging the broken bits of advertising board away

oh so Dan tapped Kevin into a spin, and Kevin not able to control the car, went right into Dan. welp.

[Lap 3]: SEB UP TO P8 LET’S GET IT!!!!

and Mick P10 🥺 That’s my emotional support Germans

[Lap 4]: “That Aston Martin in the hands of Vettel has some pace today” I need Ted to be my hype man seriously

Charles has potential engine problems??? oh welp

Ferrari gonna Ferrari

[Lap 5]: Albon pits to ditch the hards for mediums, still under SC

The replay of Lando’s start, very noice

[Lap 6]: aaaand SC in this lap

rip Otmar’s nerves for having to watch Esteban v Alonso at the restart

ayyy Bono sighting

...you gonna go George???

[Lap 7]: ....

ffs

Lewis and Verstappen touched and broke bits of each other’s cars

NOT LANDO TAKING OUT CHARLES

oh so Charles is not out he managed to get his car back to the pits.

still I would like a refund for that lap, it woke up and chose TOO MUCH violence

[Lap 8]: oh my god Seb’s up into P5 as a result of all the violence

[Lap 9]: And Lewis is up into P7

[Lap 10]: And now P6

cut to Lance in P9 defending from Bottas

[Lap 11]: Lewis v Seb, this is not how I wanted it to happen but I’ll take it 🥺

apparently still a way to go until 1st stop territory, which will probably have been extended a tiny bit thanks to the safety car

[Lap 12]: “That Aston Martin is a sprightly thing” AMR22 no longer assigned tractor status 🥳🥳🥳

[Lap 13]: Verstappen got a 5 sec pen for the violence huh 👀

as does Norris for trying to murder Charles

[Lap 14]: And Lewis takes P5, to the delight of the very lively crowd

I think we can all agree that Brazil is Lewis’ second home race at this point (I mean, it technically his how he has his honorary citizenship, but you know what I mean)

[Lap 15]: And Lewis takes 4th from Lando (try saying that three times fast)

can we not get constant replays of the Verstappen on Lewis violence, once was more than enough

[Lap 16]: meanwhile Seb is chasing down Lando 👀

this race has been quite a lot, and I don’t think we’re barely at one quarter distance

Interlagos will always be 100% that bitch

[Lap 17]: SEB INTO P5!!!! THAT’S MY BOOOOOOY

oh and Zhou makes his first stop

[Lap 18]: as does Sainz

meanwhile Russell is driving around completely unbothered while multiple fistfights happen behind him

Sainz has a smoky brake apparently 😬

not a tear off stuck in the brake duct oh good grief

[Lap 20]: somehow, Bottas is in P6

ayyy Lance up to P9

...or not Sainz just passed him

[Lap 21]: Charles still down in P15, he was a title contender at the start of the year 😭

[Lap 22]: Lewis closing the gap to Perez you say 👀👀👀

Charles pits again, because Clowneria Ferrari

[Lap 24]: and just to emphasise the point, Sainz doesn’t know what strategy he’s on.

Perez pits for mediums

oh my god Seb’s in P3. STOP THE RACE!!!!!!!

[Lap 25]: Russell pits, and has a slower stop compared to Perez

but he comes out ahead of Seb.

Anyway Merc 1-2, Lewis win, Seb P3. STOP! THE! RACE!!!!!

[Lap 26]: Lewis leading in Brazil, feels good feels organic

and the crowd (rightfully) love him

“Sebastian Vettel runs third” INJECT IIIIIIIIIT!!!!!

But, I did look up Seb’s result and he finishes P11 so I’m vibing now while it lasts 😭

[Lap 27]: and in Seb pits for mediums, he comes out in 9th

[Lap 28]: and Bottas takes 7th off Gasly

helmet watch: Seb’s Brazilian flag tree design is so cute I love it

[Lap 29]: They’re talking about dark clouds, please no 🥲

but anyway SEB INTO P8!!!

[Lap 30]: Lewis makes his first stop, softs for mediums, and comes out in P4

and Seb up into P7 as Lance pits

“Pitlane incident involving Alfa Romeo will be investigated after the race” ????? care to give us any detail at all FIA?????

don’t just leave us hanging spill the tea

[Lap 31]: I am not looking at the clouds in the distance I do not see them

[Lap 32]: Lewis setting a 1m15. King shit.

[Lap 33]: and Lance passes Yuki for P14

beloved midfield spice how I have missed you since you were MIA in Mexico

[Lap 34]: Ted spilling the pit lane drama tea, apparently Alfa Romeo didn’t pull in their wheel guns when Mick came in for his stop (it’s a sporting curtesy, not a rule per se)

But is still funny that the entire Alfa Romeo team is under investigation seghujgh

poor Barry from catering is an innocent bystander in all of this!!!!

[Lap 36]: Anyway, racing

Alonso pits, promoting Bottas to 5th (?!) and Seb to 6th 🥳

Sainz to pit again, not surprising considering he’s on the softs

He’s on the mediums this time

[Lap 38]: Man seeing the cars being able to actually follow each other, and make overtakes in the corners as opposed to DRS moves. WE STAN.

Alonso with a nice move on Yuki for P13

[Lap 40]: whew I didn’t even notice that we’d passed half distance

track temp has dropped 11 degrees since the race start, it’s def way cloudier. And that’s seemingly favouring Merc, considering the rate at which Lewis is catching Perez

[Lap 41]: Ted has gotten out the big braincell and realised that Merc’s goal is to get a 1-2 for the drama. As they should tbh.

[Lap 42]: Seb still in P6, I’m equal parts thrilled and worried as to how he ends up P11

[Lap 43]: Lewis’ gap to Perez under 2 seconds 👀

someone whip out the jaws music

[Lap 44]: he’s closed right up, racing time!!

[Lap 45]: and he gets the move done down the main straight. NOICE.

and the crowd go insane, as they should

meanwhile Charles pits again from 8th, I once again support his rights to burn things down

[Lap 46]: Seb pits from P6, and drops to P11

[Lap 48]: Perez pits again for mediums, and gets jumped by Sainz

Both Mercs yet to make their second stops still, I would be both surprised and impressed if they manage to make the one-stop work

[Lap 49]: And as I type that, in comes Lewis 😅

Likely to cover off Perez.

Which he does! He’s on the softs

[Lap 50]: and In comes Russell, also for softs

Crofty stop trying to manifest rain the race is fine without it!!

Seb in P7 ahead of Charles 🥺

[Lap 51]: And Charles does pass Seb for 7th

[Lap 52]: Oh apparently Kevin still hasn’t come back to the paddock yet ubhsgeugheshg

and Lando has stopped with a loss of power. McLaren’s very bad not good race.

and a bit of a late VSC, since Lando was getting out the car while cars were passing him 🙃🙃🙃

[Lap 53]: and looks like Ferrari are going to pit Sainz for softs

[Lap 54]: that McLaren is not moving for the marshals for love nor money

and we’re upgraded to a full Safety Car because of it

not Crofty stirring the pot asking Otmar what he’ll tell Esteban and Fernando at the restart slrbnhlbh

He is craving all sorts of violence today

[Lap 55]: Helmet watch: Lando’s neon yellow with chrome royal blue design is so pretty

“You are racing, just be respectful” Mercedes say no violence only polite fisticuffs allowed

stop. replaying. the Verstappen on Lewis incident.

[Lap 56]: another Bono sighting?! TV director your basket of pastries is in the post.

[Lap 57]: “They haven’t released the lapped cars yet” Brundle... don’t

[Lap 58]: oh Esteban being told to let Alonso past and he straight up says no aeghearughs

Alpine squared violence intensifies

[Lap 59]: SC coming in... I am Anxious™️

If we get RBR on Lewis violence again I will SCREAM

George once again taking his SWEET AS TIME to go ffs

[Lap 60]: okay phew that was a much more chill restart

argh Seb down to 9th what happened?!

[Lap 61]: oof Sainz trying to barge past Perez

Charles watching behind with popcorn

and Alonso passes Bottas for P6

once again, EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING

[Lap 62]: 10 laps to go, oh BOY

oh. Seb was on the mediums surrounded by drivers on softs. no wonder he’s dropped places

[Lap 63]: And Sainz does pass Perez for P3

funnily enough he’s also on the mediums while the cars around him are on softs

[Lap 64]: And Charles takes P4!

meanwhile the gap between the Mercs is just over a second

[Lap 65]: Oh jeez that swerving from Perez and Alonso

and Fernando adds himself to be “I passed Perez after the SC restart” party

oh. Verstappen is behind Perez now. team order drama incoming I guess. 🍿

replay of elated Alpine mechanics my beloved

[Lap 67]: 5 laps left, and Verstappen passes Perez.

after explicably being told to take points off the Ferrari’s 😬

ohhhhhh that pass from Mick on Gasly was NICE

[Lap 68]: Gap between the Mercs still are 1.2-1.3 seconds

[Lap 69]: Ugh, Seb’s dropped down to P11 behind Lance, damn you medium tyres

(Not Lance though, he’s great)

[Lap 70]: The fact that this was Merc’s first win since Saudi ‘21... pain

[Lap 71]: Also the comedy of Merc winning one of the races Toto wasn’t at aeghaergh. It’s a wonder Toto has been at any races in 2023.

welp more internal Ferrari violence

[Finish]: And Russell wins his first F1 race, with Lewis bagging a Merc 1-2!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Sainz P3, Charles P4, with Fernando dragging his Alpine into P5 out of sheer spite.

Okay I’m pretty neutral on Russell but his team radio was v sweet 🥺

and ending with Lewis DOTD, and Lance P10 Team Greeeeeeeeen!!!🥳💚

WHEW. Interlagos continues to deliver the racing AND the drama. That was a fun race to watch though, while we didn’t have a proper battle for the win per se there was so much entertainment in the midfield, and while the reason why it happened did not spark joy, watching Lewis fight back through the field like the King he is was *chef’s kiss*.

Overall, 9 front wings out of 10. Next, and final race of 2022 - Abu Dhabi!

#F1 2022 re watch #F1 Re watch #F1 Liveblog #Brazil edition

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sunnydalebimbo · 3 years

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Okay so I’m never going to like Riley ever, but I will very begrudgingly admit Season 4 Riley is maybe what Season 4 Buffy needed. Before you execute me on sight, please let me defend myself. Season 4 Buffy has of changes going on in her life, moving out of home, going to college, and coming out the other end of two major emotional relationship, Angel and Faith, and Season 4 as a whole is a about change and redirecting lives and dynamics. What Buffy need (or at least thinks she needs) is someone relatively stable. And Riley, no one had ever accused our butterscotch hunk Riley of being wild and exciting. Buffy wants someone normal (but not so normal they can’t contend with her lifestyle) and reliable (enough you don’t have to fear he’ll disappear for a month or be haunted by the ghosts of the people he’s murdered) and Season 4 Riley provides that. He’s polite, he’s respectful, you can bring him home to mom, and that’s good for Buffy at this time in her life. Also, pretty much every sexual experience Buffy has had up until this point has been wildly traumatic, and Riley provides that vanilla safety. And now I’m never going to tell anyone to like Riley (because you probably shouldn’t) but I think Riley had the potential to be good for her.

#im sorry #i swear im not a riley apologist #he fills me with rage too everyone #but i think he had a tiny bit of potential in season 4 #but dont get me started on season 5 riley or a will commit every crime #but i feel like season 4 and season 5 riley were dufferent creatures and one of them wa smidlky tolerable #and he was kinda good for buffy in the beginning #and as long as buffy is happy #someone’s gonna unfollow me for this one #but i will desvere it #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #riley finn

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 3 years

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Rewriting Haggar/Honerva’s redemption arc

One of the many things that bothered me about VLD S8 is Honerva’s redemption arc. While I was never fully against the idea of Honerva getting a redemption arc, I just didn’t want VLD to do it because I knew that they would fuck it up if they tried. And low and behold, I was right!

But yeah, I wasn’t against the idea of her being redeemed. And I don’t mean “redeemed” as in “all is forgiven and she’s just a good guy now,” but more like a Darth Vader, “the things she did were inexcusable and she would never be able to right all her wrongs but she goes out on one good act to show that there was still good in her deep down and she at least had the potential to change.”

I know a lot of people don’t like the whole, “redemption=death” thing, which I understand, but I personally never had a problem with it.

Ok, so why didn’t Honerva’s redemption work? Well there are a few reasons but the one that baffles me the most is that, instead of trying to make her more sympathetic, season 8 seemed to go out of its way to show her being more evil and vile than ever.

And because I have nothing better to do, I’m gonna go through Honerva’s story in VLD and explain what I would change to make her redemption more believable.

(Keep in mind I am not a writer, this is just me ranting about my favorite character and how I personally would’ve written her.)

1. Realizing she’s Altean

I always thought it’s was weird that when Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” In the S2 finale, Haggar didn’t seem to react at all, she just kept attacking. It’s as if she didn’t care or already knew, which doesn’t make sense considering in the S3 finale and S8E2 it’s established that Haggar has no memory of who she was before she died. And in S4E3 she seems shocked by her Altean face (which also doesn’t make sense because her blue skin isn’t camouflage that’s just how she looks after the rift) so it seems like she didn’t know.

Wouldn’t it have made more sence if after Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” Honerva looked confused/shocked? If she became defensive and said Allura was lying/trying to insult her? There’s def anti-Altean propaganda in the empire so it would be considered an insult.

After that she starts questioning Zarkon. And when she looks into his mind, it’s out of genuine curiosity and desire to know the truth, not because, “the empire needs him” or whatever that meant.

And isn’t it a bit odd that she doesn’t seem betrayed at all when she finds out Zarkon has been keeping all this from her? She’s just like, “oh, you’re my husband? Cool.” Wtf???

2. Her past relationship with Zarkon

Okay, I love Zonerva, but if we’re being honest, Zarkon was not the best husband. He enabled the shit out of Honerva, even when it was obvious that the rift was doing serious damage to her physical and mental health. To me, it seems like Zarkon was so blinded by the power the rift gave him that he didn’t realize/ignored the negative effect it was having on Honerva. In the same way he downplayed the negative impact the rift had on the planet.

I think that should’ve been explored more. Maybe Honerva notices that she’s been acting differently and is worried somethings wrong (think S5 Kuron). And Honerva tries to tell Zarkon that she feels strange and Zarkon just brushes it off.

And later, when Alfor visits Diaibazaal years later. Things are pretty much the same except when we sees Honerva, she is very obviously pregnant and Alfor’s there when Honerva falls and goes into labor (instead of a random quintessence seizure). Alfor and many Galran doctors try their best to save her and the baby but she dies in childbirth.

Zarkon goes ballistic. He’s yelling, throwing doctors across the room, and Alfor turns to the doctor holding Lotor and tells them to get the baby to safely, fearing Zarkon will take his grief out on the baby.

Zarkon turns on Alfor, blaming him for Honerva’s death and accusing him of letting her die so that he could get his way and close the rift. He lunges Alfor and roars at him to leave.

He spends the rest of the night grieving at Honerva’s bedside, when Kova jumps on the bed and starts gnawing on her finger trying to wake her up. This is what gives him the idea to bring her back with quintessence.

3. Her current relationship with Zarkon

I think it’s pretty safe to say that they’re relationship didn’t get better after the war began. Zarkon hid her identity and her child from her for 10,000 years and essentially used her as a tool of war. It’s pretty fucked up.

I know it’s pretty well established that Zarkon treats Haggar with more respect than his other underlings, but I feel like it would be interesting to see that change overtime. We see that after Voltron comes back, Zarkon becomes very obsessed with Voltron/Black, and he and Haggar start disagreeing more and more.

Remember the moment where one of Haggar’s druids told Zarkon Haggar said he needed to rest and Zarkon hit them with his bayard and told them, “remember who your master is”? What if, instead of a random druid, it was Haggar who he hit?

I feel like that would be a good way to show Haggar and the audience just how much Zarkon’s obsession with Voltron is affecting him, and make the audience feel a tiny bit bad for her.

Then later in season 4, when Zarkon wakes up from his coma and finds out Haggar brought Lotor back to take his place he gets pissed. He puts a price on Lotor’s head and has Haggar arrested for treason. She steals a ship, escapes, and later on meets up with Lotor’s generals.

Her and Zarkon are officially broken up and her quest to reclaim her identity and get her son back begins.

4. Oriande

I never liked the concept of chosen/sacred Alteans. The idea that some Alteans are just born more powerful than others just feels iffy. My idea of Oriande is that it’s an Altean holly land, any Altean can enter it just depends on whether or not you can pass the White Lion’s trial. Passing the trial proves that your intentions are pure and and the White Lion will bless you with power.

I didn’t like how Honerva seemed to force her way into Oriande, I think it would be more effective if she had gone through normally because, at this point, her intentions were pure. She was going there to purge herself of the dark magic corrupting her and reclaim her memories so she could go get her son back.

I also like the idea that Oriande is a sorta link to the Altean after life, and you can speak with people you’ve lost. Allura gets to speak with Alfor, and Honerva speaks with her mother.

You could also have her be confronted by the spirits of the Alteans she helped destroy. Have the weight of her past actions bear down on her. An important part of any redemption arc is acknowledging the terrible shit you’ve done in the past, and that was severely lacking in Honerva’s arc.

Another interesting thing you could do is have Honerva talk to her younger self. The one that died 10,000 years ago. This kinda thing actually happened in 80s Voltron, young Haggar appearing in Haggar’s head trying to convince her to be good again.

5. Her relationship with Lotor

Now this is where the redemption arc really falls apart. I forget who, but one of the writers said after S5 that Haggar/Honerva was motivated purely by love for her son, but man did they do a bad job of showing that.

And it would’ve been so easy to fix that problem, just have her not be horrible to him. Have them have actual civil conversations, have her protect and defend him. Don’t have her reject him as a fucking baby!

Imagine if, after Zarkon destroys Lotor’s planet, instead of immediately deciding to

exile him, Zarkon says that this is the final straw and he’s going to have Lotor executed. But Haggar speaks up to defend Him. There’s actually a scene in DOTU where Zarkon tries to kill Lotor and Haggar gets on her knees and begs for him to be spared. (Though the scene was mostly played for laughs.)

she asks for mercy and justifies it by saying it would be unwise to kill his only heir. It’s a weak argument, Lotor’s a half breed and couldn’t realistically take the throne, but Zarkon does concede, he still loves her after all, and has Lotor exiled.

And Haggar isn’t spying on him because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s concerned for him. When Lotor confronts Haggar about sending her cronies after him, she says she knows he’s hiding something. Lotor asks if she’s threatening him, thinking she’s going to rat him out, but she says no, she’s not threatening him, she’s just trying to warn him against doing anything stupid because, with Zarkon seemingly on his death bed, the empire needs Lotor’s leadership.

At this point in the story, Haggar is questioning her loyalty to Zarkon, so I feel like it would make sense for her to be silently supporting Lotor from the shadows.

Then at the Kral Zera in season 5, It was weird to me how she was helping Lotor through Kuron while also telling him he couldn’t be emperor and trying to put Sendak on the throne. I feel like it would’ve made more sense for Sendak to just show up on his own without Haggar.

Haggar wouldn’t even be at the Kral Zera, she would just watch through Kuron.

And then we get to S6 when she actually reveals to Lotor that she’s his mom. This scene was just so poorly done. She never actually apologizes to him, she’s just like “yeah I forgot you were my kid and I never loved you, but were cool now right?” I remember when I saw S8E2 and it shows her after Lotor rejects her and she looks like she’s about to cry, I was just thinking, “this would be very emotional and sad IF she had actually apologized and made it clear that she genuinely loved him.” But she didn’t and I don’t know why!

And then we get to season 8, and of course everything in S8 is bad but Honerva’s story is particularly bad. She’s supposed to be motivated by love for Lotor yet she doesn’t act like she actually cares about him at all.

She manipulates his corpse and when she sees his gross melted body, she doesn’t even react that much. When a mother sees her child’s mutilated corpse, how do you think she reacts? Screaming? Crying?? Hurling??? But no. She’s just like, “...”

And then when she goes to the alternate reality and meets baby Lotor and he rejects her, her reaction isn’t disappointment or sadness, it’s anger and entitlement. She immediately decides, “ok, fuck this kid. Let’s destroy this reality.”

It just doesn’t make sense! This is the season you’re trying to REDEEM her! Why are you going out of your way to make her so vile?

6. Her S7-S8 plan

(Keep in mind I haven’t watched S7/S8 since they came out and barely even watched S8 to begin with, so I don’t remember some things and I can’t be bothered to rewatch them.)

Okay, starting with S7, she’s not in this season at all but in “The Ruins” the druid dude says that her final order was to hunt and destroy the Blade of Marmora. I guess it makes a certain amount of sense because she saw that it was Keith who brought Lotor’s actions to light, but that whole plot was really pointless in my opinion. (Was anybody really hoping for a rematch between Keith and that one random druid?)

If you want us to forgive Honerva for her crimes, you really shouldn’t keep adding more unnecessary crimes. It’s established that there were a lot of Galra war lords vying for power and pirates looking for money, just have it be that Kolivan got kidnapped by one of them.

Then you have her season 8 plan and I’m gonna be real with y’all, I have no idea how to fix this mess.

I feel like the basics of her plan could work. She tries to get Lotor and Sincline out of the rift but when she gets him he’s a melted corpse so the plan then becomes to use sincline to go to another reality to find a living Lotor, but opening all these rifts causes problems and the paladins have to stop her.

But all the shit with manipulating the colony Alteans, killing the White Lion, desecrating Oriande, and destroying Olkarion and entire realities, it was all so unnecessary.

Personally I would cut the colony Alteans from the story all together, there are other ways for Lotor to betray the team. It was a lazy way of making Lotor 100% evil and having Honerva manipulate them is unnecessarily cruel, especially in the season you’re trying to redeem her.

Here’s a very basic outline of how I would do this plot.

If we’re going by season 8’s logic that she needs a sacrifice to bring back Sincline, I would’ve had the Galra she killed at the Kral Zera be the sacrifice, not the White Lion. She stands on the pyramid and talks about how the empire stole her life from her and she wants revenge as she absorbs their quintessence into herself and then uses that to bring back Sincline.

Then when she finds Lotor dead she takes Sincline and uses it to go to another reality where she can be with her family.

The danger comes when she opens rifts to the other realities and rift creatures start coming out and causing damage. The paladins fight them and follow her into the rift to stop whatever evil plan she may have. Because the paladins don’t know that Haggar is now Honerva and all this is just to get Lotor back. They think this is all some plan for multiverse domination or some shit.

Meanwhile Honerva has just been rejected by little Lotor and seeing Voltron show up pushes her over the edge and they fight.

But when they find out the real reason she’s doing all this they start trying to appeal to her and convince her to give up and close the rift peacefully. And similarly to how the paladins had to sacrifice the castle to close the rifts created by the fight with Lotor, Honerva has to sacrifice herself to close the rifts.

In the end, I feel like a Honerva redemption arc could’ve worked if the writers were actually competent and actually made an effort to have her be sympathetic, but In canon, her reasoning, “If I can’t indulge in the simple joys of life, why should anybody else?” just doesn’t cut it.

It’s disappointing. VLD had so much potential. I’m thinking of just rewriting the entire series from the beginning. Hopefully putting all my thoughts out into the universe will help me move on.

#voltron #voltron legendary discourse #haggar #honerva #Lotor #prince lotor #Allura #princess allura #vld #vld critical #Altean #voltron season 8 #zarkon #emperor Zarkon #zonerva #Galra #redemption arc

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doodlegirl12345 · 3 years

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A New Reign {2/2}

Well, it’s time to post more AU stuff. Hello everyone I decided to post a older story I wrote a little over a year before season 4 of Miraculous Ladybug. I had time writing it so I decided to share it here. This deviates from the show a quite bit. So think more of a AU story.

So here’s the conclusion of the story: A New Reign.

Also available on Wattpad

A New Reign

Purpose.

We all are brought into this world with the potential to do amazing things. For some they are able to know right away what is their place in life. But for others it can take a little longer as they might need to try new things, gain some experience and meet the right people to find their path. Sometimes it's not exactly what you might have pictured, it may not be as glamorous as you dreamed. But as long as you love it, every mistake, bruise, and error is worth it. Even if friends and family might not agree with it. However, it's your life as you only one that fully experiences each failure, emotion, joy, and victory first hand. As sometimes all it takes is one person to light another's everlasting flame.

This had to be a mistake.

If not a mistake then a twisted joke or a surreal dream. Those were the rationalizations that Sabrina Raincomprix could come up with as she stood in the alleyway. The timid redheaded girl looked down at the small opened miraculous jewelry box. Inside of it was a golden hair comb.

This had to be a cruel joke or a dream why else would Ladybug give her of all people the bee miraculous.

Sabrina's teal eyes pulled up from the box back to Ladybug who was standing right before her. Then at the tiny bee creature floating right next to Ladybug named Pollen who she just met less than thirty seconds ago.

"Uh...I think this has been some kind of mistake," Sabrina told the spotted heroine. "Isn't this the bee miraculous?"

"Yes it is," Ladybug smiled. "Sabrina Raincomprix, I have decided to give you the miraculous of the bee which gives you the power of subjection to help aid Chat Noir and I in fighting Lord Justice. After the day is saved you will return it back to me. Can I trust you?"

Sabrina turned her head then looked out of the alleyway to see the villain Lord Justice still in the street in front of the park fighting Chat Noir. The villain was still in his long black judge's robe, traditional powered judge's wig, a plus shaped medal around his neck, black stained white gloves and a black skin tight face covering. The villain picked up his long silver sword from the ground then swung it at an approaching Chat Noir.

"I hold you in contempt!" said the judge figure boomed in his deep voice as he tried to pierce the hero with his blade.

Sabrina looked down at the ground to see her father was still face down on the cobblestone road tied up in Lord Justice's multiple chains. A large part of the police car's remains was tossed to one side of the sidewalk. The redhead wondered how things soured so fast. Less than an hour ago she was sitting at the park working on her history project with Marinette. But now it seemed that the unimaginable was happening.

"But isn't this Chloè's?" Sabrina turned back towards Ladybug. She picked up the hair comb from the box. "I just can't take-"

Suddenly there is a flash of white light from the hair comb causing it to change shape in Sabrina's hand. It morphed into a silver hairpin with a small diamond jeweled bee at the end of it.

"It changed!" Sabrina gasped. "But how..."

"That's just camouflage mode your Highness," Pollen told her. "When a miraculous gets a new holder it changes appearance to suit the person when it's not activated. It seems that it will suit you best as a hairpin."

"Please don't call me that," the redhead told the little bee. "This is supposed to be Chloè's miraculous remember?"

"Actually it never was. At best it was just a loan," Ladybug said.

"But I can't take this in fact, just give it to Chloè I know for sure that she misses it," Sabrina said. "I'll call her."

Sabrina's hand moved to her sides motioning to grab at her nonexistent pockets. Then it dawned on her that she wasn't wearing her usual outfit with her usual shorts. But instead her purse plaid skirt, along with her short sleeve blouse, purple and teal tie, black sweater vest, black knee high socks, and Mary Janes. This meant no pockets as instead her phone being on her it was still in her school bag that she left in the park. Right at the other end of the current akuma attack.

Oh crud. Sabrina thought, realizing her mistake.

"Sabrina I chose you for this not Chloè, she had her chance," Ladybug told her. "You can become the new bee heroine so-"

"So what? So you can take it all away without warning?" Sabrina asked her. "No thanks."

"Excuse me?" Ladybug asked, confused.

"Chloè told me about what happened between you two. Don't get me wrong I appreciate everything that you, Chat Noir, and the other heroes do," the redhead told her, as everything that Chloè had said reappeared in her consciousness. She put the bee miraculous back in the box causing it to return to its original form. "But I don't want to be in the middle of that. I'm not one of those bright stars that you are looking for."

"That's not true. There is so much more to you Sabrina but I understand that feeling. That's how I felt when I first got my miraculous. What did Chloè tell you?"

"That you couldn't stand someone else being in the spotlight. That's why you took the bee miraculous from Chloè," Sabrina pointed an accusatory finger at the bug. "You couldn't stand that someone was better than you. That someone else could end up getting attention besides you. If I take this then it will happen all over again and I don't want to deal with your ego."

"But you are fine with dealing with Chloè's bruised one?" Ladybug gently pushed her finger in the way. "It seems Chloe took up creative writing since the last time we talked as that's pure fiction."

"But she said that you took away her miraculous and her title as Queen B."

"Yes, I did but it's clear that she lied to you about the reason why. Honestly, I have given her chances to do better when I didn't have to. But it seemed that she still hadn't learned. She revealed her secret identity to the public and I let her side as much as I possibly can without having Hawkmoth weaponizing it. I gave her a second chance after she used the bee miraculous to temporarily paralyzed a working metro conductor and almost crashed a train full of innocent people just to show off. For me to only get stabbed in the back later when she willingly teamed up with Hawkmoth to the use the miracle box that holds the other miraculous and endanger Paris."

"What?" Sabrina gasped, this was the first time she heard of this information. "No...no...that can't be true."

"Sadly it is Sabrina," Ladybug told her.

"No you have to be lying!" the redhead insisted. "Sure Chloè can be a lot of things...maybe a little vain and self absorbed. But she tells me everything! Secret things, things that she would never tell anyone else! She wouldn't keep a secret like that from me!"

That's how it was supposed to be. The crutch of their friendship was based on that trust. It was supposed to make up for the treatment she often got. The occasional backhanded compliments, the orders to do things, and sometimes the demeaning comments for it to be all worth it. Chloè was not perfect, not even in the slightest but she wasn't supposed to team up with someone who wanted the world to burn.

Especially if she was still on it.

"Sadly she's telling the truth," Pollen said.

"My previous queen did team up with Hawkmoth. I saw the anger and hate in her eyes. That's what vengeance does; sometimes it blackens the heart. Maybe someday she will be brought back to the side of good. But we cannot wait as a new queen is needed now. I easily can sense great potential in you."

"Sabrina we need you," Ladybug told her. "I would be asking you or have this miraculous if it wasn't necessary. I wouldn't have done this if I didn't have faith in you."

Sabrina looked at their hopeful eyes, she vaguely remembered Chloè telling her about how great and honest Pollen was. She then looked back out at the alleyway. Chat Noir was still fighting Lord Justice, alone. It was clear that the feline was doing his best but his stamina was running thin. As he dodged another chain from the villain's sleeve and he landed in front of a lamppost.

"Is that all you got?" the cat asked. "As I can do this all-"

Before his last word could be uttered Lord Justice shot several sets of chains from both of his sleeves binding the cat to the lamppost. Chat Noir struggled within the chains, keeping him stationary.

"Catacl-" Chat Noir started.

Suddenly two chains wrapped around the hero's mouth causing his words to be muffled.

"I'll deal with you later you wretched cat," Lord Justice boomed. "I have much bigger fish to fry."

He then turned around and started to approach the officer.

"Dad," Sabrina said, then looked at the box in her hand.

It held an object that could make a difference between life and death. It had the ability to create miracles that were supposed to be endless.

"It's time for your sentence," said Lord Justice as he stood in front of the officer. "How do you plead?"

The poor bounded officer struggled with his metal resistants that covered him as he tried to inch himself away. He mumbled a few words that couldn't be easily made out.

"Guilty?" Lord Justice asked. "Wise choice, it reminds me that the system actually works. Time for your sentence."

Lord Justice raised his left hand and stuck up his pointer finger and ran it across the air. Suddenly a white cloth blindfold appeared across the officer's eyes causing him to struggle more. The villain raised his silver merciless sword high trying to align it with his victim's neck. Once it did Lord Justice started to bring the sword down to perform a quick wet chop. However before the metal of the sword could hit skin a yellow and black striped trompo knocked the sword out of the villain's hand forcing it to land a few feet away from the officer with a loud clatter.

"Who dares interrupt justice?!" Lord Justice boomed as the trompo returned back to its owner.

"I do," said a stern voice.

The villain turned around to see a young lady in front of him catching the offending trompo with one of her hands. She had long fiery orange hair with jet black highlights, which was pulled into a high ponytail by a black headband with ribbon-like antennas. The young lady was wearing a skintight suit with a black collar that covered her neck and shoulders which ended with long full length gloves with fluffy pollen like cuffs. Her torso and rib cage was a bright yellow with a large v shaped stripe across her chest and two thin v shaped stripes below it. The bottom half was jet black pants with black knee high boots with a pollen yellow triangle band at the knee which ended with yellow wedge heels. She had a yellow and black domino mask on her face divided longways with the top yellow and the bottom was black. But the most important thing of note was the golden bee miraculous hair comb that was placed on the left side of the mysterious bee heroine's hair.

"And who are you?" Lord Justice picked up his sword.

"I am Honeybee the new bee miraculous holder," she told him. "But for you I'm your worst nightmare!"

With that Honeybee leaped forward causing Lord Justice to swing his sword in self defense. But the bee heroine just leaped over him avoiding the sword landing behind the judge. She flung her trompo with great force tying up the villain's sword as he leaned back to avoid getting hit. Honeybee stepped on the trompo's long excess wire to pull the sword from the villain's hand. But suddenly there was a flash of light coming from the sword as it morphed into a silver spiked mace. The change of shape caused the trompo to let go. Lord Justice charged with the mace forcing the bee to leap back. The villain jumped forward which caused the bee to swing her leg around hitting him in the back.

He leaped forward again, body slamming Honeybee onto the ground. The bee fell right onto her back before she could fully react; she saw the head of a spiked mace hovering over her face. Quickly thinking the bee drew the trompo's wire between her two hands blocking his weapon. Then raised both legs pushing herself forward performing a double heel kick to the stomach. She rolled forward as the judge bent over in pain then threw her trompo again. Lord Justice bated it away with the mace and lunged forward to strike the bee. Honeybee leaped out of the way doing multiple back handsprings and cartwheels avoiding multiple strikes with the mace.

She threw her trompo again which the villain just batted away. The judge lunged forward to bring down his mace but Honeybee drew out her wire again blocking the mace and kicked Lord Justice in the stomach. She then wrapped the excess wire around his wrist while elbowing him in the face. Then toss the wire flinging the villain back against the park's metal fence.

That one was for Dad. Honeybee thought.

Things were coming together as Honeybee ran toward her bounded father practically flaunting her new prowess and skill. She now had the physical strength that she had always dreamed of. It was like every play fight move that she had done while playing pretend with Chloè finally had the skills to back it up. Honeybee looked over her shoulder to see Ladybug at the lamppost that Chat Noir was chained to. The spotted bug was using her yoyo wire to slice through the overwhelming amount of the chain. Already there were about four on the ground yet still quite a few on the cat.

As upon Ladybug's suggestion the arrival of a new hero would cause enough of a distraction for her to free Chat Noir. A plan that Honeybee was happy to follow considering she already had a score to settle with Lord Justice. Honeybee reached the officer, he was laying flat on his stomach still bound and gagged. Honeybee wrapped her trompo around her waist then pulled up her father by the chains. Her father started to scream in a muffled voice as he was not able to see.

"Don't worry Da- er I mean Officer help is here," Honeybee told him, reaching for his blindfold. "Let's get this blindfold off-"

Suddenly an icy cold chain wrapped around the bee's wrist pulling her hand back. Honeybee looked up to see Lord Justice standing at the park fence with a long chain extending out of his left sleeve. The chain started to retract back into the villain's sleeve pulling Honeybee forward.

"Honeybee you have committed contempt!" Lord Justice boomed. "How do you plead?"

The bee pulled the chain back as she continued being dragged forward. Honeybee raised her hand to grab her trompo but as she did another chain extended out the villain's other sleeve and wrapped around it. Now she was being pulled by both.

"How do you plead?!" Lord Justice repeated.

But at that moment a grayish silver baton flew across the air hitting the villain square in the head then bounced off like a boomerang returning back to its original owner.

Chat Noir.

"She pleads not guilty," Chat Noir announced as he caught his baton.

Suddenly Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around the long chains causing them to snap in half and Honeybee to fall onto the ground. Ladybug jumped in front of her as the yoyo retracted back into the spotted heroine's hand. She offered Honeybee a hand pulling her from the ground.

"Nice job so far," Ladybug told Honeybee as she was brought back up to her feet.

"Ladybug you finally arrived," Lord Justice boomed. "But for interfering with justice so I'll hold you in contempt."

"Seriously you need a better catchphrase," Chat Noir said, reassembling his staff. "At this point who isn't in contempt here?"

"Don't talk back to the judge!" the villain raised his arms. "I sentence you three life without your miraculous!"

Multiple chains extended out his sleeves like snake-like tentacles to grab the heroes. The trio leaped back out of self defense readying their weapons. The chains whipped out again Ladybug flung her yoyo slicing the chains. A few dropped on the ground but moved out from the robe to capture them. Honeybee threw her trompo like a whip striking back the chains. While Chat Noir batted them away with his staff.

The heroes fought the chains, battling them away and slicing them in half. But Honeybee couldn't help it as she cut through the chain checking in the corner of her eye on her father still sitting where she had left him. Suddenly a chain came at the bee forcing Ladybug to jump in front of her slicing it.

"Take care of the officer," Ladybug told her.

"What?" Honeybee asked her as she whipped back a chain.

"Lesson number one of being a hero is getting innocent bystanders to safety," Ladybug sliced through the chain. Her voice then shifted to a whisper. "Besides isn't that why you're out here anyway? Go, I'll cover you."

Honeybee looked shocked as not many people had really ever put her own feelings in consideration. The bee nodded then rolled forward to avoid the chains. She approached her father causing him to react with muffled words as if he could sense her presence.

"Relax Officer it's just me Honeybee. I'm finally getting you out of here," the bee looked around for a safe place then noticed a few buildings down from the school, a apartment building with a rooftop patio and a few gargoyle statues on the ledge. She threw her trompo around one of the statues and secured it. "Okay we are not going to take a trip now. So don't be alarmed."

She grabbed the officer by his chains and yanked the wire causing it to retract bringing them both up. The bee shifted their weight to bring them directly onto the rooftop patio. Her father mumbled a few words as Honeybee pulled the blindfold off him. A dazed look appeared on the officer's face as he looked around the area to gain his bearings again. The bee then stood up wrapping the trompo around him pulling hard enough to slice through the chains. Broken chain links fell to the ground, the last that dropped was the one covering his mouth.

"Are you alright sir?" Honeybee crouched down to his level.

"Yes, thank you for saving me, Honey..." said the officer.

"Honeybee, I'm happy to help," she told him then noticed all the scrapes and scratches all over his arms. "Wait, you're injured."

Her father looked down at his arms. "It's just a few scrapes. I had gotten worse during my early days at the police academy. Besides it could have been worse considering what Lord Justice had done to my police car. But...Sabrina, my daughter, she and one of her classmates were there when all this happened. I don't know where they are or if they are even safe."

Honeybee smiled. "Don't worry Officer Ladybug and I cleared the area to keep bystanders away. If they were still here then they would have been told to get inside."

"Good, thank you," he let out a sigh of relief.

"No problem, now I suggest you either stay here or go into this building for your own safety," Honeybee stood up and tossed her trompo around the same gargoyle statue. "Let the heroes handle this."

Honeybee leaped off the building and swung back down to the ground noticing Ladybug and Chat Noir hiding behind the one of the whole remains of the police car. While Lord Justice was struggling to stand up for the ground as reached for his sword. The bee dropped down landing right beside Chat Noir letting her trompo to retract back in her hand.

"So what did I miss?" she asked then looked at Chat Noir and smiled while excitedly shook his hand. "Oh Chat Noir, nice to officially meet you. Thanks for the save."

"No problem," the cat looked little surprised by the bee's excitement. "Welcome to the team."

"We still need to figure out where Lord Justice's akuma is. There's a fifty fifty chance that it's either in sword/ mace," Ladybug told her. "Or the medal around his neck. But those chains are making it hard to get close to either. But this has been going on too long, lucky charm!"

Ladybug threw her yoyo high in the air causing a small swarm of tiny hearts to appear forming an object.

"A umbrella?" Ladybug asked as the closed ladybug patterned umbrella landed in her hands. "Really? Of all things?"

"I guess it's because we are going to rain on Lord Justice's parade," Chat Noir said jokingly.

Honeybee snickered. "Nice one."

Ladybug just gave her a stern look.

"What?" the bee responded.

"I like her," the cat smiled. "She has a good sense of humor."

"Don't encourage him," Ladybug told her. But then she looked at the umbrella and the park. "Wait a second...I got it."

The spotted heroine's eyes darted around before quickly telling Honeybee and Chat Noir the plan. Afterwards both the cat and bee nodded as they understood.

"Come out you three!" Lord Justice bellowed. "You cannot escape justice!"

Suddenly Ladybug and Chat Noir jumped from the car's remains, weapons ready.

"Trust me we wouldn't try if you were justice," Ladybug said, holding her umbrella in one hand and spinning her yoyo in another. "Instead of another clown in a suit."

The villain clearly didn't take that comment lightly as a growling sound came from him. Lord Justice raised his arm and shot a chain from his sleeve at Ladybug. But the bug opened up the umbrella blocking the chain. It bounced off causing Lord Justice growled louder raising his sword as he ran toward them. Chat Noir extended his staff, jabbing him in the stomach and pushed him back. The cat then performed a backflip landed right onto the park's fence. Ladybug followed suit performing a backflip landing on the fence next to Chat Noir.

"Hey Judge if you want to catch us then gotta come get us!" Chat Noir taunted.

Lord Justice followed them jumping up on the fence between Ladybug and Chat Noir. He reached for her earrings but Ladybug opened her umbrella blocking him. She then closed it, moving the umbrella like a sword blocking his sword as he brought it down. Ladybug blocked it. While keeping her balance Ladybug swung her leg trying to kick Lord Justice in the chest. He just backed away dodging the heroine's feet.

But Chat Noir's staff went across his neck as the cat stood behind him with the staff up against the villain's throat. Chat Noir tried to hold him back as Ladybug reached for the medal. But Lord Justice elbowed the cat in the stomach forcing him to let go. The villain carefully spun around to the cat and raised his sleeve extending out a chain. But as it extended forward it wrapped around the cat's staff that was extended to him.

Chat Noir smiled as he saw the chain. "I was hoping that you were going to do that."

He then long jumped off the fence dragging Lord Justice along with him. Ladybug started to follow close behind as Chat Noir brought the villain to the park's Ladybug and Chat Noir statue. Lord Justice was flung against the statue's stone base while Chat Noir landed in front of him.

"Enough!" Lord Justice stood up slicing the chain from Chat Noir's staff. "Justice must prevail!"

He swung his sword at Chat Noir but before it could pierce the cat's flesh. Ladybug landed in front of him with her opened umbrella. She swung it forward letting the sword impale the umbrella's fabric. Ladybug twisted it, forcing it out of Lord Justice's hand. Ladybug dropped the umbrella and jumped forward catching the sword with one hand.

"It already has," Ladybug pointed the sword at Lord Justice's face. "Now that we have your sword."

Suddenly Lord Justice started to laugh in his deep booming voice. "The evidence of that were the akuma is faulty, Ladybug."

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. "I thought so, but that's why you should always have a backup plan. NOW!"

Right on the last word Honeybee jumped from the base of the statue. She pulled the string of the trompo in her hand declaring. "Venom!"

Lord Justice turned around and raised his sleeve as if he was going to defend himself but it was too late as Honeybee stabbed him in the chest paralyzing him. The bee landed in front of him and yanked the medal off his neck throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. This caused the toxic butterfly to force its way out.

As it flew away Honeybee yelled. "Ladybug now!"

"No more evil doing for you little akuma. Time to deevilize," Ladybug threw the yoyo catching the butterfly then spinning it around to purity it then released it. "Bye bye little butterfly."

She picked up the umbrella from the ground and threw it high in the air, declaring. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Once the umbrella hit the sky it turned into a magical swarm of ladybugs that flew around the city repairing the damages that were made. Inky darkness covered Lord's Justice paralyzed body unfreezing him and reverting him back into his civilian form. He fell to the ground revealing himself as a tanned skin man in his late twenties with slicked back hazel brown hair. He was wearing a tan Italian three piece suit with a red necktie. Honeybee looked at the metal beneath her foot as the ladybugs reached it turning it into a gold tie clip.

"What happened?" the man looked around the area. "Where I'm I?"

Honeybee picked up the tie clip and walked over to the man.

"You're in the park sir," she handed him the clip. "I think this is yours..."

"Shawn Dent," the man took the tie clip. "Thank you, I don't remember what happened. The last thing I remember was losing a case I was prosecuting at the courthouse because some hot headed detective unlawfully interrogated a suspect. After that I had to return to the courthouse because I forgot some papers. To only come back to my car to see some stupid cop giving me a parking ticket!"

Honeybee's eyes widened as if she felt an eye twitch was coming on. As she was well aware that he father was quite stern about parking tickets. He had probably done that after that earlier police call.

"Well at least everything is fine now, Mr. Dent," she said.

The bee spun around on her heel to see Ladybug and Chat Noir standing behind her holding up their fists.

"Come on Honeybee join in!" Chat Noir smiled.

"Really?" Honeybee gasped.

"Of course we couldn't save the day without you," Ladybug told her.

"Okay!" the bee ran happily toward them holding up her fist.

"Pound it!" the three heroes said in unison as they bumped their fists.

Honeybee was beaming as she felt like a hero. Now only was able to help save her father she was able to help save the day. Right now it felt like she could do anything. That she could take anything that was thrown at her as pure adrenaline ran through her veins.

She finally felt like somebody.

"I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!" yelled a familiar voice.

Honeybee looked up breaking out of her daze to see a red faced Chloè at the park's entrance with Alya trailing behind her. The aspiring reporter had her cellphone in her hands as if she was filming.

"Of all the utterly ridiculous things I have seen in life," Chloè marched over to the heroes. "This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen!"

"Chloè," Ladybug stepped protectively in front of Honeybee.

"I can't believe you Ladybug!" the mayor's daughter yelled. "I know that you were jealous of me. But I never thought in a million years think that you would take my miraculous and replace me! Where did you get this girl? From the dumpster?"

"That's enough Chloè, the bee miraculous was never yours to begin with! But your actions right now proves that I did the right thing revoking your title!" Ladybug said.

"By replacing me with that piece of human garbage right behind you?" Chloe looked at Honeybee. "What wrong wannabe you can't talk?"

"Chloè stop it!" Ladybug told her. "You lost your chance. As long as the bee miraculous is in my possession you will never get it again."

"But that's the thing it is not in your possession right now is it, Ladybug?" said the mayor's daughter then pointed at Honeybee. "You! Give me my miraculous right now!"

"What?" Honeybee meekly asked.

"Give it to me!" Chloe stretched her hand out. "I had it first!"

"But-" the bee started.

"GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!" Chloe yelled. "DON'T MAKE ME GET MY DADDY ON YOU!"

Honeybee was stunned at the demand she looked at Ladybug and Chat Noir who seemed to be just as shocked. She then looked back at Chloè whose hand was still stretched out.

"No," Honeybee stood firmly.

"WHAT!" Chloe yelled. "Do you know who you are talking to? I had it first, listen wannabe-"

"It's Honeybee and yes I do know who I'm talking to. Someone who risked her the lives of the people of Paris for her own ego and to boost her popularity!" Honeybee stepped from behind Ladybug and marched toward Chloè. "Someone who sided with the forces of evil just because things didn't go her way. This isn't toy Chloè! This hair comb can make a difference between life and death, it makes miracles. So threaten me all you want. Call your daddy because you are not getting this miraculous!"

"How dare you!" Chloe gasped. She lunged right at Honeybee as if she was going to rip the miraculous from the bee's hair.

But right as she did Honeybee grabbed her wrist stopping her. She looked right into Chloè's eyes. "Nice try, but watch out for these next couple months as I'm really going to show you how a real queen should really behave."

Honeybee then let go of her wrist causing the mayor's daughter to fall flat on her butt.

The bee and bug's miraculous let out warnings beeps.

"Come on Ladybug," Honeybee threw her trompo out of the park, securing it on something. "Let's go."

The bee pulled onto the trompo which brought her out of the park with Ladybug quickly following behind her. Two blocks later the heroines found a dark empty alleyway. Ladybug jumped off the rooftop first while Honeybee looked away as a flash of red light followed. Once Ladybug was secured in the shadows Honeybee jumped in landing onto the lighter side.

"Pollen, buzz off," she said.

A flash of golden light covered the bee heroine pulling off her suit and returning her to her civilian clothes. As Pollen flew out of the hairpin and landed in the palms of Sabrina's hands.

"You did amazing your Highness," Pollen said.

"Thanks Pollen that means a lot," Sabrina smiled.

Suddenly the redhead felt something hit against her foot. She looked down to see the miraculous jewelry box in front of her.

"I guess this is goodbye," Sabrina told Pollen as she picked up the box.

"Not forever right?" the kwami asked.

"No, trust me I'm sure that we will see each other again," said the redhead. "I promise."

Sabrina removed the hairpin causing it to turn back into its original shape. Then put it back into the box and kicked it back to Ladybug.

"Thank you so much for helping us, Sabrina," Ladybug said.

"No problem it actually was a total rush," Sabrina said. "In a way, I can see why Chloè misses it."

"Yes I can see it too. In a way, having a miraculous after a period of time..." Ladybug trailed off.

"It becomes a part of you?" Sabrina asked.

"Exactly, especially if you were meant to have it," Ladybug sounded shocked. "But what you said back there did you actually mean it? Is the world going to see Honeybee again?"

"I think they will. That is if you are willing to have her on your team."

"I would love to. But remember nobody is supposed to know about this. No friends, no family, and not even other heroes like Chat Noir. Do you understand?"

"Yes, especially what happened with Chloè I think it's best to keep this between us."

"Yeah, I'm sorry that happened. I didn't think she would see you."

"It's alright."

"But you really handled yourself back there."

"I guess I did. I have never seen her so mean and nasty that just when something inside me snapped. I don't know...maybe I'm starting to outgrow her."

The next day.

Sabrina sat at a table in the school's cafeteria. She was wearing her purple earbuds watching a video from the Ladyblog on her phone. It turned out that Alya was filming yesterday's attack. It was little longer than she thought as the aspiring reporter had filmed right around Honeybee returning from dropping off her father at the apartment building. She and Chloe must've been working on their project either in the school's library or somewhere else close by. The video that she was watching now was titled "A New Queen in Town" which was a video of Honeybee telling Chloe off.

This was the first official time Sabrina could be able to look at her superhero persona. As after saying goodbye to Ladybug she went to pick up her stuff from the park still in the daze. She then went home, did her homework and went to bed all as it felt like a wonderful dream.

It wasn't until she woke up the next morning to see on her about fifty texts, twenty voice mails and thirty missed calls all from Chloe that confirmed it as the mayor's daughter had texted her about some awful replacement named Honeybee.

Who was Chloe's new worst enemy.

But Sabrina's usual urge to get her friend beck and call was gone. So instead of texting her back the redhead got dressed for the day as it felt like a new person had just been awakened.

Sabrina arrived at school wearing a short sleeve yellow blouse with a white vintage Peter Pan collar, a black skirt that reached her knees, black tights, a white headband, a gold pendant, and black Doc Martens. She entered the classroom overhearing her classmates talk about the superhero that had arisen over night. It seemed that nearly everyone had something kind to say about her. From her stylish outfit to her fighting skills to her demeanor of putting Chloè in her place. This led Chloe to be red faced as she was given a good ribbing and teasing from her classmates about how she acted yesterday. In a matter very similar but a little more kind hearted to what she had done to the class majority of the year.

That must have led Chloè to snap at Sabrina when the redhead entered the classroom as she chewed her out right on sight for not answering her calls last night. But Sabrina didn't tear up like she usually did nor she even flinched.

She just gave an icy stare familiar to ones that Chloè had given her over the years and just said. "My bad, I was busy."

Then sat down without another word.

Now she was looking at Honeybee in action on her phone.

She had looked the way that she felt right now: beautiful.

Even if she had to wear her earbuds to block out Chloè rants about Honeybee as she sat beside her during lunch.

If only Chloè really knew.

Suddenly Sabrina could hear a familiar voice causing her to look up from the phone. In front of her table stood Marinette holding a light pink lunch box with white polka dots and her sketchbook underneath her arm.

"Oh hi Marinette," Sabrina pulled out her earbuds.

"Hey Sabrina," the raven haired girl waved.

"What do you want Dupain-Cheng?" Chloè snapped at her.

"Not much, I just came to ask Sabrina if she wanted to eat lunch outside in the quad with me. I just got my monthly pass from Ms. Bustier for being the class' rep for it."

"Really? I-" Sabrina started.

"Yeah right Dupain-Cheng!" Chloè cut her off. "Why in the world would Sabrina want to eat lunch with you when she could stay here with moi?"

Sabrina just looked at Chloè giving her the same ice cold glare from earlier. Suddenly Chloè's triumphant stance started to deflate. Then the redhead turned back to Marinette.

"Actually, I would love to," Sabrina stood up grabbing her phone and her teal lunch bag from the table.

"What?!" Chloè screamed. "But what about me?"

"You be fine Chloè it's just one lunch it won't end you," Sabrina walked toward Marinette. "I'll see you back in class."

Sabrina and Marinette walked toward the cafeteria's exit leaving a stunned Chloè behind.

"Thanks for saying yes, Sabrina," Marinette said.

"No problem, it's the least I could do for the one who saved me from Lord Justice's chain," Sabrina told her.

"Yeah sorry for leaving like I did."

"It's all right besides you just invited me to lunch. In fact we can talk about our project since we didn't finish."

"Sure, but actually we wouldn't exactly be alone."

"Oh?"

"Yeah actually Nino, Alya, and Adrien will be joining us. I just didn't mention it in front of Chloè because Adrien is going to be there. She would be all over him. Is that okay? We could start talking about working on your cosplays. If you are still interested?"

"I don't mind, in fact we can talk about cosplay during lunch and finish our project today after school. We can go to my place."

"Today? But aren't you going shopping with Chloè?

"I can miss it. Besides, everything at Gabriel's Boutique is so expensive, the only thing I could easily afford with my allowance is a hair tie and that would still cost twenty five euros."

"Alright, so let go. I gave Alya the blanket for us to sit on a few minutes ago. She and the guys should be outside already," Marinette said as the two girls reached the cafeteria's doors. "By the way I like your outfit. Yellow is a really good color on you."

Sabrina smiled. "Thanks, I have been trying a lot of new things lately."

As a new queen has been awakened and a new reign has just begun.

The end!

Thanks for reading! 😊

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So did you like it? I hope that you did. As I really wanted to try something new with this story. Like I said when I heard that we were going to get a New Queen B next season and it was a new character I was kinda disappointed. As I just thought it would be more interesting to have a already established character take the mantle. Then thought about Sabrina, a character who hasn't got much development in the series. Zoe is fine I really have no negative feelings toward her but I still wish that the show went this route. But what fanfic is for to fulfill my wishes. At least when it comes to this show.

I also was inspired by the character of Batgirl from DC comics too. Think about it that both characters are redheads with cop fathers. I wonder if that was inspiration for Sabrina since I heard that she’s going to get the dog miraculous in the future. Barbara Gordon was introduced in the 1960s which predates this show. So who knows, it might be possible.

Also in the first half I kinda related to Sabrina as I felt kinda lost and it really wasn’t until I started doing writing after trying different things that I felt more certain about things. That and also growing up. So I hope to do more things with Sabrina with stories in the future. As let’s face it I doubt the show is going to do this anytime soon.

If you made it this far thank you for reading! I really appreciate it.

The song for this post is “Kings and Queens” by Ava Max: Here’s a link to a lyric video.

A New Reign {2/2} is also available on Wattpad.

See ya next time. 👋

#miraculous ladybug #sabrina raincomprix #chloe bourgeois #bee miraculous #ml fanfic #ml ladybug #ml chat noir #ml chloe #ml sabrina #miraculous fandom #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #miraculous au #sabrina redemption #my writing #wattpad #honeybee

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therenlover · 3 years

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Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

A/n: In the wake of recent life garbage, I have neglected to write a whole fic, and I’m sorry. In the interim, please enjoy this writing exercise I have put together in the hopes of nailing some characters I haven’t written for in the past in time for a larger project I’m working on! Cheers!

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, and Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Mild Misogyny, Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Mental Illness, Non-Graphic Mentions of Death, Minor Spoilers for The Alienist Season One, Minor Spoilers for Goodbye, Lenin!, Spoilers for Rush (2013), Minor Spoilers for The Cloverfield Paradox maybe??? I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, blame Wikipedia if things are wrong.

Laszlo Kreizler

As the first of all of the Dannys to be put through the ringer, Laszlo Kreizler unfortunately would not survive a holiday with my family.

First of all, this man does not like massive huggy kissy crowds, so he’d already be off his game the second he walked into the packed house. That’s not why he’d die though, surprisingly.

His downfall would be his status as an Alienist.

There is simply so much mental illness and childhood trauma present at my family holidays that he would combust within 15 minutes of sitting in a room with all of my relatives.

Even if he were to somehow make it past the introductory phase, my family is nosey as hell, so they’d be grilling him about his arm and his own childhood trauma within the first hour.

Laszlo, for all of his strength, simply wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

His death wouldn’t come from the initial combustion though. No, it’s not that simple.

Knowing Laszlo, once he had combusted and entirely lost his composure the first time, he would become extremely intrigued about the interconnected nature of everyones issues with each other and he would start asking questions.

That’s where the problems would begin.

Because it’s one thing if my drunk great aunt starts badmouthing her sister at the table for abandoning her 90 year old mother for a lake house with her new boyfriend. That’s fine.

But when Laszlo hops in and starts picking apart the mommy issues and underlying reasons for their decades long sibling rivalry?

Oh it would be over for him.

The yelling would never end.

And, I have no doubt that Laszlo would start to psychoanalyze whoever started to yell at him, which would only lead to more yelling.

In the end, someone would throw a probably full and probably fresh out of the oven casserole dish at his head and he’d be unable to defend himself because of his weak arm.

We’d have to cart him out in a wheelchair and even if he were to technically survive, he’d never come back.

Therefor, Laszlo Kreizler would fall victim to my family and die before we even got to dessert.

Alex Kerner

YES

Ah, little baby Alex! A great contender here for holiday survival.

He seems relatively young in comparison to most of the Dannys on this list, though I don’t actually know how old he’s supposed to be.

Based on his relative youth, he would automatically get points with the fam for not seeming like a creep or sugar daddy. Instead, he could be just about any dude I brought home from college.

His skillset as a semi-skilled laborer would also earn him some points, seeing as several members of the family are in similar professions.

Alex might get lost in some of the more complex conversations about the local organic scene or the fine details of running a fine art gallery, but he would fit right in with the majority of the younger members of the family, smiling and nodding his way through the conversation.

His enthusiasm and optimism would brighten the room and leave everyone excited to see him around again.

There’s also the semi-small detail of him caring for his mother, which would earn sympathy from the older members of the family as they are in charge of caring for my deaf, blind great grandmother.

Now, all of these aspects have already set Alex up for a successful survival of a holiday dinner with my family, but the real secret weapon he has up his sleeve is what really cements him in place as a survivor.

What is his secret weapon, you may ask?

Lies.

Alex Kerner is really, really good at lying, and is even better at figuring out increasingly convoluted ways to keep his lies straight.

If he managed to hide to fuckin’ Berlin Wall coming down from his mother for as long as he did, he could keep a couple of white lies up for appearances if he was asked any potentially embarrassing or weird questions that would make him look bad.

He could also lie about enjoying my great aunt’s cooking, which is a vital skill for holiday survival in my family.

Therefor, at the end of the day, Alex Kerner would not only survive a holiday with my family, but he’d probably enjoy it and get invited back for every subsequent holiday he could possibly attend.

Niki Lauda

Niki is another Danny that falls very firmly into the category of characters that would absolutely not survive a holiday with my family, for many, many reasons.

First of all, just like Laszlo, Niki is not huge on going to big huggy kissy parties.

Both adults and children would be all over him the second he walked in the door, which would probably make Niki get very uncomfortable and cagey.

Little does he know at that point that people aren’t just all over you when you get in the door.

No, no, no; from the moment you show up to the moment you leave, if you’re at a holiday with my family you are being basically accosted with questions and hugs and conversations that get weirdly personal.

It doesn’t help that the whole entire house is packed and there are eyes on you at every moment, so he wouldn’t even be able to sneak in a break for air or a cigarette.

If my own mother can’t sneak out for a smoke when she’s been going to these events her whole life, the new guy who’s still being vetted by the family sure as hell won’t be able to either.

Needless to say, Niki would start to get really, really tired of it all in an hour tops. I’ll give him until dinner at most.

That’s where things would start getting really sticky.

See, a lovely little fact about the Niki Lauda that lives in my brain, as portrayed by Daniel Bruhl in Rush (2013), is that he’s just a little bit misogynistic. No more than would be period typical, but a little misogynistic.

Another fun little important thing to note is that my family is entirely matriarchal in nature.

There are only 4 reoccurring male guests at family holidays out of about 20 to 25 guests at each event; My great aunt’s husband of many, many years, the two male siblings my mother has that live in the area, and the young son of one of those siblings.

Men, specifically boyfriends, simply do not last in my family. They are considered pretty disposable and easily banned from family events after breakups or small mishaps.

So, not only would Niki not have any other manly men there to chat about sports with over a scotch and a cigarette, he would be surrounded by so much estrogen that he would definitely struggle with his inner asshole even more than usual.

In fact, we never have sports on, even on Thanksgiving. Poor Niki would be stuck hearing conversations about artisanal candlemakers and how to hand felt a woodland elf puppet.

Back to his downfall, the second he made a slightly sketchy joke about women in the kitchen at the dinner table to my great uncle, his fate would be sealed.

If you thought the yelling at Laszlo would have been bad, this yelling would be ten times worse, because he would be surrounded by like 20 very angry, very defensive, and very strong women waiting to beat the shit out of him and I would not be any help.

He dug the hole, so he can climb out of it.

In the end, his death would come when he tried to light a cigarette and calm himself down at the dinner table while trying to rescind his earlier statement, because smoking inside around all the precious textile art? Thats a big no no.

My great aunt would grab the lighter right out of his hand, light up whatever cocktail she had at the moment, and throw it all directly into Niki’s face.

It would be like crashing his car all over again, only this time he would be surrounded by people who would rather he burn than try to get him out of the situation.

Moral of the story, Niki would die within the first few hours of a holiday with my family because he made an asshole comment to a room full of women who don’t put up with that shit. Don’t be like Niki, even if you think you won’t get killed for it.

Andrea Marowski

YES

Andrea is pretty much the polar opposite of Niki here, and I love him for it.

He is very soft, very kind, very pure, and would never dare to say something rude at the dinner table like a certain racer we all know.

He couldn’t even say something rude if he tried to, because he probably wouldn’t have the English in his vocabulary to say the things he wanted to say even if he intended to say them out loud.

But let’s be honest here, Andrea would never.

Even with his limited English, Andrea would appreciate being surrounded by a whole bunch of people who think he’s the sweetest little thing since the invention of cake.

My great grandmother, despite being almost entirely blind and deaf, would say he looked darling and he would immediately be a member of the family from the moment he stuttered out his thanks.

Andrea, like Alex, is also relatively young, so he would get points for not being old enough to be my father.

I feel like, because Andrea was shown living happily in a tiny village by the ocean with two old ladies, he would have an appreciation for craft, so he wouldn’t mind sitting quietly as my great aunt pawns off a handmade blanket from my great grandmother to him.

He would also happily sit with the younger children and do whatever craft or simple game one of my aunts brought for them that time.

The cherry on top with Andrea is his skill with the violin.

My family is one that appreciates fine art a lot, but more than anything we appreciate music.

I wouldn’t say that any of us are anywhere close to Andrea’s proficiency, but we definitely aren’t terrible, and we all can appreciate the effort, practice, and talent that goes into getting truly good on an instrument like Andrea is on his violin.

He would be encouraged to play, of course, and he would happily oblige.

If he felt comfortable enough, I could even see my great uncle grabbing his guitar, my cousin sitting at the piano, and my sister bringing out her own violin to do a little quartet with some simple song they knew as everybody else sang along.

By the end of the holiday evening, once dinner was served and people were heading to the cars, Andrea would definitely be considered a member of the family.

Needless to say, he’d survive and pass their tests with better than flying colors, even despite the language barrier.

Ernst Schmidt

Now, Ernst was probably the most difficult one on this entire list to put into the living or dying category. In the end, though, there were a few things that couldn’t be overlooked that send him into bad territory.

To be fair, though, he would last the longest out of everyone who would die tragically at one of my family’s holiday gatherings.

He, like the past two victims, would not be exactly suited for the mushy crowding that’s inevitable when it comes to my family.

That being said, I think he would deal with it a little bit better than the other two did and would make polite conversation with the family when he could.

The fact that he was trapped in a packed house filled with drunk people who have several generations worth of beef with each other, though, would start to get him eventually.

If we consider all of the shit that happened while he was in space to be canonical minus, you know, the earth getting really fucked up, he would probably start to go a little bit nuts while packed together with that many passive aggressive people.

The second someone burst into tears on the way to the bathroom he would start to lose his shit.

Still, I think Schmidt would probably be fine-ish until dessert was served, because that’s about the time where all the adults are absurdly drunk, so insanity ensues.

They would start poking at him about his credentials and experiences as a physicist.

He would answer their questions at first, but, unfortunately for him, the questions would turn more and more personal and uncomfortable as time went on.

Did he ever still think about what happened up in space? Did he blame himself for not getting things to work correctly? How much did he miss his old world and old life? Did he ever have nightmares about what he saw? How much did it hurt to get shot?

They’d poke and poke and poke in their drunken state until poor Schmidt would snap at them, flying into a slight rage at their insistent probing.

From there, he would be swiftly asked to leave and then “accidentally” run over while calling an Uber to take him to wherever he’s staying as my drunk great aunt tries to back out of the driveway to drive down the block to her house.

In the end, Schmidt and his wit would be really close to surviving a holiday with my family , but he would, unfortunately, let his anger get the best of him, and it would be the last thing he ever did. Literally.

Helmut Zemo

YES, BUT ONLY BARELY

Okay, so my earlier comment about Ernst being the most difficult out of everyone was incorrect. Zemo was, by far, the hardest to put into one category or the other.

His wit and charm won out in the end, though, and I determined that he would survive one single holiday with my family.

If he ever came back for a second he definitely wouldn’t make it, but he would succeed in living past the first one.

Helmut’s problems start, surprisingly, not with the fact that he is a criminal. In fact that doesn’t even cause any problems for him.

No, instead they start with the fact that he is 43.

I am 99% sure that my mother is 43, and I know for a definite fact that he’s older than one of my uncles who would be present. I, at the time of writing this, am 18.

Needless to say, literally everyone would be massively suspicious of him and his intentions the second he walked through the door. The amount of money in his bank account definitely wouldn’t help in this situation either.

The family would warm up to him eventually, though, because if there’s one thing Helmut is good at besides killing people, it’s making people like him even if they absolutely shouldn’t.

With his expansive knowledge of what feels like literally everything rich and niche, he would slowly win over the older members of the family. Who knew the strange old man Jac brought home was so well versed in the American pottery scene, or that he could name specific jewelry artists from across the world that my family had done business with for years?

My family definitely wouldn’t. At least, not at first.

Oh how they’d learn, though.

Another nice thing about Zemo that would allow him to survive is his aggressive politeness.

No matter how many weird glances or dirty looks he got over the course of dinner, he would simply continue to be the best version of himself in the hopes of impressing everyone.

He would even pretend to enjoy my great aunt’s cooking and get himself seconds, because I’m sure it would be easier to scarf down than whatever he and his EKO Scorpion squad had to eat while serving in the Sokovian special forces.

On the tail end of reasons he would be accepted, Helmut Zemo drinks alcohol like it’s water, so he would fit right in drinking white wine and cocktails through the night with the rest of the adults.

((I think he’d totally tease me about not being able to drink with him, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways...))

His slight downfall would come from something entirely uncontrollable by him or anybody else.

And that something would be my flirty aunt.

I love my aunt. She’s wonderful in her own special way.

That being said, I know if a hot Sokovian baron with a nice smile and a fat pocketbook showed up to one of out holidays, even if he was introduced as my partner, she would be going for the kill all night long.

This would make Helmut more and more uncomfortable as she got more and more drunk, because lets face it, he’s probably not very comfortable with being touched by near-strangers anyways, and being touched by a drunk member of his partners family who is very obviously coming on to him?

That’s even more difficult to deal with.

That being said, Helmut is a man who has been shown to be extremely in control of his emotions.

He would swallow down whatever awkwardness he felt, make it to the end of the night, and, once he had escaped her clutches, he would politely say that he was never going back to another holiday function with my family again, though he would be happy to facilitate me still attending them.

So, in the end, Helmut Zemo would survive one holiday with his sheer stubborn politeness alone.

I will say that his patience would absolutely wear thin if he attended a couple more holidays and he would eventually die of a stress induced heart attack after being unable to politely decline my aunt’s advances.

For now, though, he’s safe.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda #andrea marowski #ernst schmidt #laszlo kreizler #alex kerner #jac rambles #imagine #the danny bunch

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wroteasongabouther · 3 years

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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 4

a/n: i seriously cannot thank you guys enough, and i apologies for taking a lot longer to post. but the love and kind words and support that you’ve given me has been just incredible and i could cry happy tears honestly. now, i hope u enjoy part 4 and all that it includes and pls remember to reblog and leave feedback if u did like it and share it with ur followers/friends ❤️ love u all!

and of course, as always, thank you to @arrogantstyles for beta reading 😘

word count: 16k

warnings: mentions of masturbation (right off the bat too ur welcome lol), cursing, consumption of alcohol (i swear they’re not drunks, just ‘tis the season ya know), and minor sexual content (!!!!!!finally!!!!!)

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

Harry’s breathing is loud, echoing off the walls of his shower as he struggles to inhale and exhale slowly once more. He inhales deeply and lets his hand that was resting upon the wall in front of him drop back to his side. He huffs through his mouth, blowing away some drops of water that were dripping down his face, while the other hand releases the grasp he had on his cock. Harry didn’t intend to masturbate in the shower like some hormonal teenager; he didn’t plan to masturbate last night before he got under the covers, either. It’s all Y/N’s doing, he thinks, she was clouding his head more than usual. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about last night, the lingering stares, her small delicate hands lingering on his thigh or dancing over his rings.

“Jesus,” Harry’s voice is hoarse as he curses himself. He was this close to falling back into yet another spiral down the rabbit hole that was Y/N. Which would more than likely result in him playing with himself, again.

Bringing both his hands under the water, he gives them a quick rinse before turning to his shelf where his body wash is. He pumps a bit of the goat's milk and lavender infused soap into his hand and brings it to his chest, rubbing in circles till it begins to bubble on his skin. He works his way down to the mess between his thighs, gently cleaning himself up before rinsing off. Harry turns to face the wall again.Sighing, he cups his hands under the stream of warm water and splashes it onto the wall before he just brings his hand up to wipe away the remains of his little private solo session.

Once he’s all squeaky clean, Harry turns off the water and shakes his hair out a little before he’s opening the glass shower door and stepping out. He grabs his towel, drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. A part of him will always want to grab a second towel to wrap up his hair, but it’s no longer the length that it’s needed. Sometimes he misses his long hair. Harry makes sure the fan is on before he leaves the bathroom and walks into his bedroom.

I wonder what Y/N is doing? He thinks as he reaches into his drawers for a pair of pants, some grey sweatpants, and then walks over to his closet to grab a dark blue crew neck jumper and a plain white shirt to wear underneath. Wonder what Y/N is wearing today, Harry daydreams as he lets his towel drop and steps into his pants, then into the sweatpants next. Suddenly Harry comes to realize what he’s doing, how utterly annoying he is by thinking about what Y/N is doing at any given moment. It’s something he’s caught himself doing before, actually. He inhales through his nose and shakes his head. Just relax, he thinks and then finishes getting dressed and pockets his cell phone that was sitting on his charger before he’s walking out to his living room.

As Harry’s preparing his coffee machine for his first cup of the day, his phone begins to vibrate. Fishing it out of his front pocket, he looks at the screen to see Mitch’s contact photo. Harry sets the baby blue mug he had grabbed into place for his coffee to brew and then swipes his finger across the screen to answer Mitch’s call.

“Hey,” Harry says, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opens his bread box and grabs a loaf of twelve grain.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch asks. Harry’s eyebrows crease at his friend's absurd question.

“What?” Harry questions. His focus is on unraveling the bag his bread was in, grabbing two slices, before twisting it back up and sticking it into the bread box. He shuts the bread box and walks the few steps to his left to his toaster, plopping the bread slices into it and pushing down the buttons to get his breakfast toasting.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch repeats himself, this time taking a brief pause after each word to really get his words across. Harry just rolls his eyes at Mitch and takes his phone back into his hand. He catches sight of the digital clock on his oven and his face twists up in confusion suddenly.

“Have you gone to sleep yet?” Harry asks, puzzled by how it’s just past nine in the morning and Mitch is somehow awake enough to call him.

“No, but that’s besides the point here, H,” Mitch says, breezes over the fact he’s an absolute lunatic for not going to sleep yet. “You’re dodging my question, so therefore I’m going to assume she’s still in bed,” he resorts. Harry can tell by the sass in his voice that he’s still buzzing from whatever amount of alcohol he had after him and Y/N left the bar last night. Harry watches his coffee drip into the mug slowly and furrows his brows once again at his friends words.

“Who’s still in bed?” Harry asks. Mitch lets out a deep breath and Harry just knows he’s rolling his eyes too.

“Who do you think I mean, Harry? The queen of England? No, I mean Y/N. Obviously,” he grumbles into the phone. Harry grabs the handle of his mug now full of coffee and rolls his eyes again.

“Y/N and I didn’t sleep together last night, sorry to disappoint,” he chirps back at Mitch.

“Bullshit, you two were basically eye fucking last night, the sexual tension was insane,” Mitch states. While Mitch is talking, Harry blows on his coffee before taking a small sip. The black coffee is still hot on his tongue, but doesn’t burn it thankfully. Suddenly his two slices of toast pop up, he sets down his mug and opens his fridge to find his small container of margarine. As he’s opening a drawer to find a butter knife, he lets out a tiny sigh.

“Like I said last night,” Harry pauses to make sure Mitch is listening, “I’m letting things settle down for her and see how it plays out,” Harry explains, resting his phone between his ear and shoulder again in order to take out the toast and spread butter on both slices.

“And what you’re saying is it didn’t play out with her ending up in your bed last night? I’m shocked, really,” Mitch says, his voice sounding genuinely surprised to hear that Harry’s night didn’t end how he imagined it would.

Honestly, Harry imagined it the same way at some points last night too. Thinking about how Y/N was a bit of a touchy drunk, therefore did that mean that she would be looking for her rebound hookup? Harry didn’t want to be that though. There was too much potential between them and this connection they’ve made so quickly, that he didn’t want to ruin it with some drunk hookup. But, yes, he imagined it, cause he’d be an idiot not to - a hot girl smiling all night at him, how she would jut out her chest just slightly cause he figured she loved how his eyes wandered over her body at times; so of course he thought of how their night could have ended differently together. Hell, he masturbated while thinking about it, twice within the past twelve hours to be exact.

Plus, their time last night was more than the sexual tension that may or may not have happened. Harry’s stomach is fluttering around just thinking about the gitty smiles and sweet words from Y/N, and how well she clicked with his best mates too. And truthfully, he was happy with how the night ended - with them in their own beds. Because their time would come eventually, Harry would let things play out however Y/N needed it to and he would wait for the right moment to swoop in and give her what he hoped was the best kiss of her life. Big dreams, Styles, he thinks to himself.

“She didn’t even think you liked her,” Harry tells Mitch, causing him to let out a snort.

“You know how I am,” he dismisses Harry's comment, “but I don’t know man, she’s good for you,” Mitch adds in a soft voice. His words make another storm of butterflies to erupt in Harry’s stomach as he smiles. “I didn’t not like her, I just sat back and let the two of you laugh all night and eye fuck each other on occasion too,” Mitch explains a little too casually. Harry shakes his head and takes a bit of his toast.

“Go to sleep, Mitch,” Harry says after he chews some of his toast.

“Good idea,” he yawns. “Talk soon,” he says.

“Bye,” Harry responds, taking his phone away from his ear and hanging up the call.

Harry grabs his plate with his half eaten toast in one hand and his coffee in the other, bringing it to his small dining table that sat against the far wall of his kitchen. Sipping his coffee now, it’s not too hot and he can actually enjoy it between bites of his toast. During him eating he finds his thoughts drifting to their typical place these days - Y/N.

Long story short, he found himself only liking her more than before after how things were between them last night. He can’t even imagine how far gone he’ll be for her if things actually went further than this blossoming friendship - with a dash of sexual tension - that they’ve established.

“This hangover is truly going to kill me,” Y/N groans out.

She’s finally standing on her two feet in the bathroom after having been sitting by the toilet for the past twenty minutes. Both her palms are face down on the counter, her arms straight as she leans forward slightly and lets her head hang heavy between her shoulders. Looking up at her reflection she sees just how dirty the tequila has done her by the bags under her eyes and the queasy feeling in her stomach as she just thinks about how much tequila she had last night.

“It’s karma for not sleeping with Harry,” Sammy taunts her, his voice coming through the speaker of her cell phone that rests on the counter beside her.

He called earlier while Y/N was still asleep, the first time in forever that she slept past ten in the morning. She had seen the call, but was too busy rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach to return it. Then she showered away the gross hungover feeling, it only helped a little, before she got dressed into a pair of leggings and an old college hoodie and ended up in front of the toilet again as the tequila teased her making her think she was going to throw up but she didn’t - thankfully.

“I thought about it, Sammy, I swear,” she shares, letting out a sigh as she looks up at the ceiling and relaxes her body again - the threat of vomiting again seeming to fade away.

“So why didn’t you?” Sammy asks.

“Cause I just didn’t want it to be like some pointless quick fuck with him,” Y/N tells him truthfully. “Sure, I loved how as we both got buzzed things got a little more careless and touchy and flirty. But it was just fun and it made my head spin and my heart pretty much leaped out of my chest. It wasn’t just stupid pointless flirting to get laid, it was deeper than that,” she explains to her best friend. As her words spill out she realizes she doesn’t quite make sense, and yet it made perfect sense in her head how she felt about Harry.

“And you feel this way and managed to somehow not tackle this man down and fuck his brains?” Sammy questions, his voice in a joking tone but Y/N knows he’s genuinely confused.

“Obviously I imagined it,” she admits, “I fucking brought out my vibrator last night, Sammy, I was that turned on by the damn guy. But I really don’t want to mess this up with Harry. I don’t want to jump right into it after the break up with Mark, and then ruin what is hands down the best connection I’ve ever felt with someone before. I just want to see how things play out, don’t force anything, you know?” she spills out, letting out a deep breath afterwards.

Those words have been heavy on her chest since she woke up this morning and replayed everything that happened between her and Harry. The smiles, the longing looks, the drinks, the touching, the smirking, and the goddamn sexual tension. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, many, many, times; all over his body, anywhere that she could. She imagined how their night could’ve ended if she wanted just a simply messy hot drunk hookup. But she wanted more than that with Harry - so much more. It was the honest truth, regardless of how soon she’s broken up with Mark, she can’t ignore how her feelings have grown towards Harry. So, she was just going to let it go on and whatever happens, happens.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Sammy asks, bringing the topic away from Harry - only for Y/N to bring it right back. Which was exactly how her thoughts have been doing lately too; drifting away from Harry for only a moment before flying right back to him.

“Um, I sort of drunkenly made plans to watch a movie with Harry tonight,” she says, “I don’t even know if he remembers, I’m just going to wing it and knock on his door later.”

“You know what you should do? You should invite him to the work holiday party,” Sammy suggests, “I’m getting tired of talking about him so much and yet I don’t even know what he really looks like cause you suck at taking discreet sneaky pictures,” he explains with a dramatic sigh. Y/N rolls her eyes and finally decides now is a good time to leave the bathroom, no longer feeling too sick from her hangover. But she still heads back to her bedroom, flopping down onto her bed.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to make it weird and invite him to something less casual,” Y/N says.

“Well, see how things play out these next few days and if it’s good then invite him, seriously I’m dying to see some eye candy, Y/N,” Sammy groans.

“Okay, Sammy, we’ll see,” Y/N says, matching his melodramatic tone. She lets out another sigh, which is then taken over by a yawn. “I’m going to go, my head is pounding and I think I should try and nap before dealing with some work emails and then going to Harry’s,” Y/N explains.

“Fine,” Sammy sighs, “it’s weird that you’re the hungover one and I’m not,” he mentions. Y/N lets out a laugh through her nose and shuts her eyes.

“Honestly, it is,” she agrees, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok, bye, feel better,” Sammy says, Y/N hears the smile in his voice.

“Thanks, bye,” she says and then hangs up the phone. She puts it down beside her and keeps her eyes shut. Taking a few deep breaths, Y/N tries to fall back asleep again. And she’s just about to when she hears that familiar heart warming guitar from Harry’s apartment. She wonders how long he’s been up? If he’s hungover at all too? She could text him and ask, but instead she just lays there and smiles as she listens to the muffled sweet melody he’s playing - then falls back into a deep slumber that her hungover body so desperately needed.

Y/N had texted Harry earlier, after he had written an entire song, surprisingly not about her this time. Well there was one line he wrote down that had to do with Y/N - played with myself where were you. It was cheeky, and didn’t really go with anything else he had so he just flipped through his journal and let himself get immersed into his songwriting during the hours of the day. Only ever stopping to make himself food or to use the washroom - otherwise, he was working hard without even meaning to.

Her first text read, So what time should I come over to watch the Polar Express? And then her second one made Harry chuckle, Also that guitar playing sounds pretty heavenly today, can’t wait to hear it in person later. With a winking face emoji at the end and everything. Cheeky girl, and anytime after seven should be fine to come over. Harry texted her back, also adding a winking emoji and then he went back into his work, ordered dinner, and now here they were.

There’s a rather soft knock on Harry’s door, causing him to stop writing in his journal and gets up to answer it. After unlocking the door, he swings it open and is surprised to see Y/N’s arms full, nearly dropping a can of whipped cream as she smiles at him.

“I brought everything for hot chocolate,” she states, beaming up at Harry over the container that holds her hot chocolate mix.

“I can see that,” Harry chuckles and reaches out to take everything from her. “You know I could’ve helped you carry a few things over, and I also have plenty of mugs here,” he says, lifting a finger that held the Grinch mug he had used at her apartment about a week ago now.

“I know, but mine are Christmas themed and it’s literally twelve days till Christmas and I need to use them as much as possible,” Y/N explains as she steps into Harry’s home and closes the door behind them. Harry takes in her appearance. Black leggings and a FIT jumper, and a pair of pink fuzzy socks on her feet. Harry’s brows pinch together as he holds back a laugh. “It’s only a few feet between our apartments, as you know, shoes are kind of pointless going back and forth,” she states with a nod.

Harry chuckles, lifting a brow and turning the corners of his lips up into a smile before saying, “yes, been there,” he says recalling the last time they had a movie night.

And just like that time, they moved together to the kitchen - after Harry locks the door behind Y/N - and they begin to make their hot chocolate in the two Christmas mugs Y/N brought along with her. Harry finds it endearing that she felt she needed to not only bring the supplies for hot chocolate, but also brought along her Christmas themed mugs. She truly does love the holidays, Harry thinks as he pours the boiling water into the mugs that Y/N had put the mix into. As they’re in the kitchen they’re talking about how their days were.

“So hungover,” Y/N groans, confirming how she had felt today after Harry had asked.

“You did drink that tequila like it was water though,” Harry states, chuckling as he watches Y/N stir the spoon in the mugs to mix up the hot chocolate. Y/N lets out a playful hiss as if the thought of all that tequila hurt her to think about now.

“I probably looked like a drunk in front of all your friends,” she thinks aloud. She frowns as she wraps her hand around the can of whipped cream, shaking it a few times before tipping it upside down and pushing the tip of it to fill up the top of the mug. She grabs the Grinch mug with one hand and holds it to Harry, making it smile as he realizes she remembered how he used that mug last time.

“They were just as drunk, maybe even more,” Harry tells her, “in fact, Mitch pulled an all nighter.”

“Well, good,” Y/N sighs, following him into the living room with both her hands wrapped around the Santa mug. “I really did have fun though,” she adds as they take a seat on the couch.

Harry meets her gaze after she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. A bit of whipped cream gets on her upper lip as she pulls the mug away. Y/N realizes and sticks her tongue out to swipe it over her lip, licking it away. Harry’s gaze is glued to her movements, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he inhales slowly through his nose. And those certain thoughts of Y/N didn’t hide away for very long, Harry thinks before he clears his throat quietly and lifts his mug to his lips.

“I did too,” he says, “all of us did, they said you were cool like five times in our groupchat,” he adds before taking a sip of his warm drink. Y/N stomach lunges knowing that him and his friends talked about her in their groupchat. Has she been a topic of discussion before?

“Me? Cool?” Y/N questions, confusion thick in her voice. “No way, they’re the cool ones, not me. I mean you are all clearly very musically gifted and get to just hangout and make music and I find it all just very… Cool,” Y/N explains as she ends with a small sigh and smiles at Harry.

“It can be pretty cool, yeah,” Harry nods, mirroring her smile.

“Speaking of being musically gifted,” Y/N hums, smirking over her mug before taking another sip.

Harry knows where she’s going with this already. He gets that familiar nervous feeling in his stomach, nothing like the butterflies he was feeling just before knowing that she finds his line or work ‘cool’ - in fact he feels his smile slip immediately but tries to cover it with a cough. He sets down his mug and brings his hands to his lap, leaning back into the couch while he looks at the blank TV screen on the wall.

“Will you play something for me?” Y/N asks in that intoxicating softly spoken voice of hers.

“I want to play for you, I do,” Harry assures her after a few beats of silence, as he tried to figure out how to get her to drop this idea of him playing for her.

“But?” Y/N inquiries, tilting her head slightly to try and look at his face better. He looks uncomfortable, Y/N thinks and tries her hardest to not frown. She guesses that he’s just got a bit of stage fright of some sorts. But he plays for a living, there must be a few people he plays in front of at the studio.

“But, I want to have the perfect song to show you,” Harry tells her as he turns to meet her eyes. It’s not a lie, he truly does want to play the most perfect song for her. But that nervous feeling in his stomach doesn’t go away.

“I’m sure all your songs are perfect,” Y/N assures him. Her voice is still as gentle as before.

“And also it’s my wrist,” Harry says suddenly, lifting his right wrist up, “I got surgery on it earlier this year, it’s just been acting up.” Quick thinking, Styles, he thinks and gives her a smile.

Y/N remembers how she had heard him playing earlier today. But by the way that Harry’s avoiding Y/N’s eyes again while this stretch of silence falls between them, and the fact he’s rubbing at his wrist for good measure too, Y/N knows that he’s not ready yet to play in front of her. So, she gives him a sweet smile and stands up from the couch suddenly.

“I have this heating pad, I use it on my ankle that I broke a few years back, it helps sometimes,” Y/N explains, “I’ll go get it,” she says.

Truthfully she just needed a moment to not have to hide how it hurt her feelings just a tad that Harry didn’t feel comfortable enough around her to play. It wasn’t the biggest deal ever, because she sure that one day he will. But it still makes her a bit sad that today’s not that day.

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” Harry brushes off her suggestion.

“H, I live next door, I’ll be back in two seconds,” she insists, giving him a smile and walking from her seat on the couch, setting down her mug on the coffee table before she’s making her way around Harry as he sits there watching her.

“Okay,” Harry says softly and nods before Y/N is walking out of his apartment. The second the door closes behind her Harry’s deep in his thoughts.

Harry has a pretty high case of stage fright, the feeling of nerves bundling up inside of him at the thought of performing in front of people even made him feel a bit sick sometimes. It was something he’s been working on for years now, through schooling and with his career as a songwriter starting up afterwards too. He would eventually talk himself out of the fear of failing during any uni exams he had, and would ace it naturally, but that ball of nerves sat heavy in his stomach the entire time. When it came to his job, he simply warmed up to his colleagues. At first he didn’t speak up much, would stumble on some notes, but things worked out in the end. It helped a lot after he found his current group as they became his closest mates too, so he became much more comfortable with playing for them over some time.

He realizes that he considers Y/N a close friend now too, and that should mean that he would feel more than confident walking over to the acoustic guitar sitting at it’s stand in the corner by the chair in the living room - but he didn’t quite yet. And one of the main reasons was because he felt something much deeper than friendship. He really freaking liked her. And if he played something, mucking it up like an idiot because of his nerves, he would beat himself up over it for days if not weeks.

Harry imagines the first time he plays a song for her that will be perfect. The song would be about her, he’s got a few of those now, and as he plucked along slowly he’d peer up at her to find her smiling back at him. Then he would really surprise her and sing. Harry knows he can sing well, but again his stage fright that relates to a fear of failing causes him to not sing all that often. He’ll sing for demos for work, or when he’s by himself, but that’s about it. Mitch actually had asked Harry if he wanted to be a part of the band before he found their lead singer, but Harry politely declined and has more than enjoyed just sitting back and watching his friends play instead. Although there’s a small pit of jealousy and envy that’s been growing in size every time he watches them.

Suddenly the door opens back up and Harry’s snapping out of his thoughts to look over his shoulder at Y/N walking in with some brown fabric in her hands. She turns to lock Harry’s door, then turns around and holds up the heating pad in her hands with a smile. It’s a sloth, a simple stitching on it to show it’s hugging wherever it’s placed on someone’s body and a smile on its face.

“I got it not too long ago, while shopping for other people's gifts, actually,” Y/N admits and starts making her way into the kitchen. “Do you do that thing where you are supposed to just be buying presents for other people but you end up buying yourself something too?” She asks Harry, raising her voice slightly as she’s put some distance between them.

“Yes, it’s hard not to,” Harry says as watches her open his microwave and place the sloth inside. She pushes some buttons and it starts up. As the sloth spins inside, Y/N turns around and leans her back against the counter and looks through the open concept space at where Harry sat on the couch.

“Have you bought any presents this year?” She asks, knowing that he’s not going home for Christmas so therefore he wouldn’t have to buy much.

“Just some for Mitch, Adam and his wife and then Tom and Jenny,” Harry states, “what about you? Do you have lots of family to buy gifts for?”

“Not really,” Y/N lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “I’m an only child, but my aunt has a couple kids so I kind of go crazy for them,” she explains with a smile. The microwave beeps, signalling that the heating pad was all warmed up, and Y/N turns back around to open the door and grabs it. It’s not too warm, so she closes the microwave door and makes her way back over to Harry.

She hands the heating pad to Harry and he gives her a smile. He says a quiet ‘thank you’ and places it over his wrist that’s resting on his thigh. It does feel rather nice, actually, he thinks as he adjusts his hand under the warm sloth. He feels a bit bad for making up the little white lie, although his wrist does ache from time to time, it wasn’t in any sort of pain right now. But he’s just being a stupid little coward and deflecting her attention on him playing her something on his guitar. Harry does notice how Y/N’s eyes linger on the acoustic guitar across the room as she leans over to grab her hot chocolate again and takes her seat on the couch once more. You’re such an ass, Styles, Harry thinks to himself but clears his throat and looks at Y/N.

“Did you enjoy growing up as an only child?” He asks. Harry personally couldn’t imagine growing up on his own. His sister, Gemma, was one of his best friends and he was also rather close with cousins while growing up too so they felt a bit like siblings too.

“Not really, no,” Y/N answers truthfully. She clears her throat and looks down at the Santa mug in her hands. “My parents were always busy with working or socializing, sometimes I was invited to come along, other times I was kept away with a nanny or my Aunt would visit sometimes and keep me company.” She tells Harry, feeling herself slowly open up to the idea of sharing everything with him. She hardly told Mark a thing about her childhood or her parents - mostly because he already knew, since he grew up in the same sort of crowd.

“Are you close with your Aunt then?” Harry asks, keeping his voice in that low tone that still brought goosebumps to Y/N’s skin from time to time.

Y/N’s lips tug slightly up into a smile, looking up from her mug and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Yes, she’s probably the one family member that I am close with. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong,” she pauses and ponders how to explain it to him, looking up at the ceiling for only a moment before looking back at Harry. “They just value life a bit differently than me. My Aunt, Vivian, she’s just the most chill and most like me I guess,” Y/N settles with keeping it easy, not digging too deep into her family drama.

Her Aunt Viv, who was her mothers younger sister, was truly the only person in her family that she felt she connected with. Y/N did love her mom and dad, they gave her a life better than she could ever ask for, but they were much more into the lifestyle and gaining wealth and social status over being a true loving family. Hence the many after school programs they stuck her in, and also having a live-in nanny till she was fourteen. But when Viv was around things felt a bit normal in her ridiculously abnormal life.

Viv didn’t have the same big dreams of being a gold digger like Y/N’s mom did, so she went to university, fell in love with a nice young man who worked a normal blue collar type of job and they bought a house just outside of New Jersey. They never ask for any help from Y/N’s parents, and they worked very hard for the life they’re provided for their two young kids. She just found Viv to be much more inspiring than her own mother who’s days included online shopping and luncheons with fellow wives who lived off their wealthy husbands' money. As Y/N grew up, Viv would take her away from her nanny some nights and would just bring her to her home and watch movies, have painting nights, and would even sit down with Y/N for hours watching red carpet events too - knowing her love for fashion even at a young age. She became Y/N’s friend more than another snobby family member.

Harry had respectfully stayed quiet as he saw Y/N fall into deep thought. He didn’t want to ask anymore questions that would cross any lines because from what little he has heard, Y/N’s family life is a bit more complicated than he could imagine. Y/N smiles suddenly, as she’s thinking of a memory.

“Viv was actually the one who really got me into the love for the holidays,” she states, “like, yeah, my parents would go all out with the decorations and the gifts and the parties. But Viv introduced me to the better part of the holidays in my opinion, like she’d take me to the rinks around the city to skate, and she’d show me the city’s festive sights. We’d even have days dedicated to going to the Christmas market. And during all that she’d always have a Starbucks holiday drink in her hand. I guess you could say I sort of modelled my young adult self to be like her during the holidays,” Y/N explains with a smile on her lips.

Those times slowly sadly faded out after Y/N got into high school, and Viv finished uni and met her husband. They wouldn’t go to the rink as much, or go for pointless walks to see the city’s many lights and Christmas Trees. Before Y/N knew it, all those childhood memories that she cherished just slid away, but she understood - they both grew up and she would hold onto those memories that her Aunt Vivian gave her to her heart closely forever.

“But as we both got older, life got busy and now she gets to do all those things over again with her own kids and not her sisters neglected one,” Y/N tries to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t.

She hides her frown behind her Santa mug and takes a generous sip, the drink having grown colder as time has passed. Harry’s about to make a comment, about how he’s grateful that Y/N did at least have her Aunt, but Y/N speaks up before he can.

“What about you? What were the holidays like growing up?” She asks, a smile returning to her lips.

“Great, honestly,” Harry nods, letting a short chuckle pass his lips, “my family can be a bit nuts, they love family time and being overbearing with playing silly games or family photos. But, I love it,” Harry explains, smiling.

He thinks about last year, how competitive him and his family got during a game they had played, or how big his mum and gran smiled as they popped Christmas crackers and everyone wore those paper crowns for one of the many photos his mum insisted on taking.

Y/N is mirroring his smile, tucking her mug to her chest as she listens to him. Sounds like a much better time than the memories she has with her parents around the holidays, Y/N thinks feeling a bit jealous - as she did whenever anyone told her of their holiday traditions and such. She can’t help but notice the distant look in his eyes as he grabs his mug.

“It’s actually the first Christmas I won’t be spending with my family, as I mentioned before,” he states, clearing his throat afterward as the emotions threaten to come in quick. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and points to the TV then. “Should I pull up the movie before we’re sitting here drinking cold chocolate?” Harry asks. Because, truthfully, he could sit here all night and talk about life with Y/N but they had planned to watch a movie.

“Sure,” Y/N smiles, although feeling a bit sad being reminded that Harry wasn’t going home for the holidays. She takes another sip of her drink again, before she’s turning her body to watch the TV screen on the wall as Harry grabs for the remote and finds the Polar Express on demand.

As the movie begins to play, they both get comfortable and sip their hot chocolates till their Christmas mugs are empty. Harry offers to take Y/N’s mug, so she doesn’t have to sit up from the slouched position she’s slipped into in her corner of the couch, placing it beside his on the coffee table before he relaxes back into his spot. It’s about half way through the movie, after they had jokingly sung along with the hot chocolate song of course, when Y/N is nearly laying out on her end of the couch. Harry feels selfish for not offering the side he’s on, as he has his legs stretched out on the chaise of the couch. Y/N slowly lets her legs slip out across the cushion between them till they’re just slightly bent and the fuzzy pink socks on her feet just barely brush Harry’s thigh.

Her toes wiggle a little, tapping against the side of Harry’s thigh ever so gently, but it causes a much less gentle reaction in his body. His stomach fluttering and his heart pounding as he glances at Y/N in the corner of his eye. A feeling of undesirable desire filters through him as she wiggles her toes again before settling her feet hardly even touching him. But it’s more the act of being comfortable around Harry that has him feeling like his heart might explode.

He’s tempted to grab onto her ankles and stretch out her legs completely so her feet would rest in his lap. Maybe he’d rub her calves, hoping the feeling made her stomach flutter as much as his. But he didn’t want to cross any sort of line. So he was content with the tiny bit of contact between them from her feet resting on the side of his thigh as the movie kept playing.

It wasn’t till near the very end that Harry heard a soft snore come from Y/N. He turns his head completely and looks over at her. Her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly, as she laid on her arms folded under her head. Harry isn’t sure how to react here, should he wake her? Or let her slumber because it’s obvious she needs it since she fell asleep during what she claims to be her favourite holiday movie. Harry ponders for a moment before he decides to finish watching the movie. Once it’s finished is when he’d make his decision.

“Y/N,” Harry says as the credits are rolling. She doesn’t move a muscle. “Y/N, darling,” Harry tries again in a gentle voice, placing a hand on her leg and giving her one good nudge. To which Y/N doesn’t respond at all.

That hangover must be hitting her body hard, begging for the sleep she needed to fully recover. So, Harry reaches for the knitted blanket that’s resting over the back of his couch and paces it over Y/N’s body. As he gets up from the couch, he turns back around and looks at Y/N for a moment - taking in her effortless beauty even while she’s sleeping.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harry gathers up their mugs, bringing them to his kitchen and quietly rinsing them out before he double checks that the heat is at a reasonable temperature. It was supposed to get rather cold tonight and he didn’t want Y/N to wake up freezing in his home. Once he’s turned off the TV and the only lights left on are from his tree, he turns back to Y/N. The soft glow from the Christmas lights casting over her breathtaking features causes yet another stir of feelings inside his stomach.

He wishes he could bend down, place a soft kiss to her forehead - maybe one day soon he could. Maybe even get to fall asleep next to her, staring at her beauty till he drifted into a slumber as well. But for now, he just quietly walks down the hall to his bedroom and leaves his door open a few inches just in case Y/N woke up in a panic or anything. He’d be a lighter sleeper than usual tonight, thinking about how close Y/N was.

At one point in the middle of the night Y/N woke up. Her eyelids were still heavy as she tried to focus on the space around her. She had fallen asleep during the movie, in Harry’s apartment, on his couch - oh god. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes flicker from the blank TV screen, to the now empty other side of the couch, before settling on the warm lights of the Christmas tree.

She should get up and head home to her own apartment and not be an idiot who falls asleep on her friend's couch uninvited. Y/N’s fingers curl around the top of the warm blanket that Harry must’ve draped over her before heading to bed himself. The pads of her fingers brush over the soft fabric while her heart beats like crazy in her chest. Harry’s sweetness and well mannered actions shouldn’t surprise Y/N anymore - but they do. She smiles and brings the blanket to her chin, snuggling into the couch once more and tries to not think about how sore her neck and back will be in the morning from sleeping on the couch. Instead she looks at the Christmas tree as her eyelids grow heavy again and she slips back into her dreamstate once more.

The next time she wakes it’s due to the sun peering through the curtains in Harry’s living room. She blinks a few times and brings a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Suddenly she hears a noise coming from a few feet away from her. Y/N’s heart all but leaps out of her chest as she sits up on the couch and looks to where the noise came from. Her wide eyes meet Harry’s equally widened eyes, him pausing mid-movement as he must’ve been grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, bearing his clenched teeth to her in a joking but nervous way. His dimple deepens at the facial expression, Y/N notices it right away even from a room away from him.

“It’s okay,” she replies. Her voice sounds a little scratchy as it’s the first time using it since waking. How utterly adorable, Harry thinks as he smiles at her and sets his mug down at his coffee maker before hitting start. “And I should be the one apologizing, I kinda ended up crashing on your couch uninvited,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair to try and tame it.

“It wasn’t a problem, Y/N, nothing to be sorry about,” Harry tells her, walking towards her till he got to the large threshold between his open concept kitchen and living room. He crosses his arms at his chest and Y/N notices how the muscles in his arms flex immediately. “Must have been a hangover side effect, hm?” Harry questions.

Y/N clears her throat as she tries to not take in Harry’s appearance in the morning but she can’t help herself. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants with a simple grey t-shirt, white socks covering his feet, and while him dressed down did look hot - it was how his hair looked that really took her breath away. The way it looks much more fluffy than usual, most likely from rolling around in his bed, made her stomach flutter and she ended up biting her bottom lip as he brought a hand up to push back the bit of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Y/N blinks a few times before meeting his gaze again.

“You’d think the nap I took before coming over would help with my hangover but I guess not,” Y/N states, she exhales through her nose and shakes her head before folding her arms over the back of the couch and rests her chin on them. “But again, I’m sorry,” she adds.

“And again, it’s okay,” Harry ensures her, dropping his arms to his sides as he smiles. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate or coffee?” He asks.

“Coffee,” Y/N answers, her voice back to that soft and gentle tone that made Harry’s head spin. He recalls when they first met, and how he wished he could hear her voice each night and morning. His wish is slowly coming true, although he imagines it involving her in bed more often than not. But for now, he’ll take her waking up on his couch any day if it means he gets to hear her voice.

Harry nods and walks back over to where the mug filled of freshly brewed coffee now sat. Y/N tilts her head to the left, still resting her chin on her arms, as she watches Harry move around his kitchen. He calls over his shoulder to ask what she’d like in her coffee, with which she replies ‘two teaspoons of sugar please’ - that earns her a half smile as he glances her way again and mutters ‘why am i not surprised’, causing Y/N to mock a hurt look on her face and gasps.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questions, watching him stir up the sugar in her coffee. Harry turns and brings the mug over to her, causing her to sit up straight again and grab it from him with both hands.

“It means you love sugar as much as any toddler would, I swear,” Harry teases.

“Something wrong with liking the taste of something sweet?” She questions, raising a brow as she looks up at him from where he stood on the other side of the back of the couch.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat at her choice of words. He immediately wants to answer back with ‘well I want to taste you, all of you, so no’ but instead he holds back his filthy thoughts and gulps. Y/N notices Harry’s Adam's apple bob up and down as she stares up at him through her lashes, slowly bringing the mug he had just given her to her lips to give it a taste. Harry watches her the entire time as she sips the coffee and licks it off her lips. Everything inside of him is begging to touch her. To bring the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, catching the last few drops of her drink off her lip, and bringing it to his mouth to get a taste. Or to just take the mug right back, place it on the closest surface and take her face into his hands to kiss her fiercely.

Harry struggles but pushes away his thoughts once again, for what felt like the millionth time this morning, and raises an eyebrow, “sweet enough for you?” He asks, his voice teasing.

Y/N smiles sweetly and nods once, “it’s perfect, thank you,” she replies.

Harry mirrors her smile before he walks back to his kitchen, only then looking down at his sweatpants to ensure there wasn’t any noticeable bulge. It had taken a few disturbing images in his head to calm himself down and not be sporting a hard on in front of Y/N. But he manages, grabs his own mug - since Y/N now held his typical mug he uses for his morning coffee - and sets it into place.

“Any plans today?” Y/N asks, taking another sip of her coffee and feeling the warmth flood inside of her body. Or maybe that feeling was from how Harry had looked at her just now, she thinks.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head and grabs for his own mug of black coffee. “What about you? No work today?” He asks, bringing the mug to his lips and blowing to cool it down before taking a sip.

Y/N shakes her head and leans back into the side of the couch, “my boss was nice enough to let us have today off, then back in for a few days but Friday, the eighteenth, isn’t really a big work day. We’re having our annual holiday party that night, so we mostly spend the day finalizing any party planning,” she explains to Harry as he leans back against the counter and sips his coffee again.

“Well that’s nice of her to give you the day off, then after the eighteenth are you off work for holidays?” Harry asks.

“Yup,” she nods, “I get two weeks off, back into the swing of things on the fourth of January,” she states.

“Sounds nice,” Harry says with a smile. “I’m jealous you guys have an office Christmas party, my label only really does something for a select group of people. Whoever made them the most money, honestly,” Harry exclaims. What he doesn’t mention is that he had been invited, and has been for the past three years due to his songs hitting it big on radio or on the charts and causing some big ripples for the artists career that had bought them.

“Sounds like the party wouldn’t be all that fun then,” Y/N notes, tilting her head to the side as she watches Harry make his way into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. She tucks her feet up just under her bottom, resting her mug on her knees but still keeping both hands on it of course.

“I’m sure yours is a lot more fun,” Harry nods in agreement.

She should ask him to be her plus one then. But she hesitates, unsure of how he would see her invite. Would he think she’s trying to make it a date? So soon after her break up? Would he think he was being played as her rebound? She would then have to try and cover up that it wasn’t a date, that they could just go as friends, but then she’d sound like she was friend-zoning him and she really didn’t want that. So, while she’s all in her head about what to do, Harry decides to take a chance.

“Did you want to go for a walk around Central Park?” He asks, looking hopefully into Y/N’s eyes. “We can skate there, I’m sure you’ve been but their rink looks like it would be nice too,” Harry suggests.

Her lips tug up into a smile, “yeah, I would love that,” she pauses as her heart pitter patters in her chest at the sight of Harry smiling back at her. “After breakfast though, I’m starving,” she says, being a bit dramatic. But it makes Harry chuckle, which is exactly what she hoped for.

“How do you feel about some chocolate chip pancakes then?” Harry asks, raising a brow as he sits up straight again and mentally goes through the recipe in his head. It typically doesn’t have pancakes, let alone chocolate chip pancakes, but he has a feeling Y/N would like them. Her love for sugar being obvious by now.

“Love them,” Y/N says with a smile still on her lips.

Where did this perfect man come from? Y/N finds herself thinking as she watches Harry get up from the couch and walk back into the kitchen. He sips his coffee as he walks before setting it on the counter.

“I can help if you’d like,” she offers, raising her voice slightly so she knew Harry could hear her.

But Harry dismisses the idea quickly and tells her to just sit back and relax. Any bets on how much longer it took for her to fall for Harry? Y/N thinks, biting her bottom lip as she watches him bend over, peering deep into his fridge as he moves things out of the way in search for whatever he needs. His bum looks rather nice from this angle, she finds herself shamelessly checking him out. Her guess was that it wouldn’t be much longer at all till she fell for him.

“Did you invite him yet?” Sammy asks, biting on his pen as he leans back in his chair. They were waiting in the conference room, along with everyone else that held a higher position at her work, for Amanda to join them and start their final meeting of the year.

“No,” Y/N replies. She shrugs her shoulders and picks at the corner of her notebook.

“And why the hell not?”

“I don’t want to make it weird, bringing him to a work thing and have to explain to everyone how he’s just a friend even though I wish he was more,” she tells Sammy, eyes still on the torn up paper on the table in front of her.

“Well if you don’t invite him then you’re missing the perfect opportunity to make it more than a friendship,” Sammy states, giving her a side eye before he just rolls them and leans forward in his seat again. He leans towards Y/N and looks into her eyes, letting her know he means business. “Talk to him tonight, invite the poor man, and get out of your own head. You don’t have to keep yourself waiting because of what Mark did when you have what you truly deserve right in front of you. Harry makes you happy, I can just tell by the way you smile at your phone or when I see you ditched hanging with me to hang with him and his friends instead,” he says the last bit with sarcastic bitterness.

Y/N lets out a deep breath through her nose and licks her lips. Her brain is running a million miles an hour. As it has been for weeks now, since she met Harry honestly - she just likes him that much. At first she tried to deny it, and last weekend after her sudden break up with Mark she tried to convince herself again that she needed to keep Harry as a friend. But now, now she just wanted him - all of him, all of the time.

“Okay,” Y/N nods.

Sammy’s lips spread up into a wide smile, the look of excitement clear on his face, but to add to it he pumps a fist into the air. Y/N just rolls her eyes and laughs at him. Amanda enters the room soon after, starting up their final meeting of the year. She goes over numbers, stats, comparing last year to this year, and even promotes a few people. Thankfully, Y/N and Sammy are in their ideal positions now, so they never have that nervous feeling of going into a year-end meeting praying for a promotion. But Y/N still grins and claps for her colleagues who are working their way up in the company. After going through some minor details for their annual holiday party tomorrow, Amanda dismisses the team and Y/N is soon after heading home for the day.

Don’t be a pussy. Ask Harry to come to the holiday party or else. Sammy had texted her after they parted ways at the subway. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, reading over the texts again as the elevator sounds a soft ding! and she walks out onto the sixth floor. Y/N confidently walks on her platform Doc Martin boots passed her own apartment door and right to Harry’s. Lifting her free hand, the other holding her Starbucks holiday drink, she knocks four times on the door before patiently waiting for him to answer. Her heart is beating so loud she can practically hear it ringing in her ears.

Harry answers the door after a few moments, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of Y/N on the other side. While it’s a delight to see her, they hadn’t planned to hangout at all - so he’s rather surprised to see her standing before him. Y/N smiles and Harry’s quick to mirror it.

“Hey,” she breathes out, the same bundle of nerves that have been with her all day seeming to not relax in the slightest.

“Hey,” Harry smiles, “what’s up?” He asks, leaning against his door.

“Um,” Y/N pauses and closes her eyes, opening them to look at the floor before she takes a deep breath to meet his gaze again. Oh no, Harry thinks, feeling nervous since answering the door as he’s unsure how to take in her nonverbal cues right now. “So, you know that holiday party my work’s having that I mentioned?” Y/N questions, when Harry nods she doesn’t leave another second of hesitation slide by her before continuing. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’re not busy, if you wanted to come with me,” she stumbles out her invitation.

Harry’s truthfully a little surprised by her inviting him. His eyebrows now raised up his forehead as he processes her words. He immediately wants to say yes, obviously. Besides his clear as day feelings for Y/N, he also saw her as a friend too and he would love to accompany her for anything she asked him to.

“Everyone gets a plus one, and I can’t imagine bringing anyone else but you with me. Also, Sammy is practically begging me to introduce you two already,” Y/N exclaims as it seems Harry was in his head for too long. He smiles at her statements. First, blushing slightly at her comment about how she couldn’t imagine inviting anyone but him, and then holding back a chuckle at her mentioning her friend Sammy.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” Harry asks, half to just be sure and half to delay his answer to jokingly stress her out a little maybe.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, biting on her bottom lip for a moment. When Harry’s eyes fall to her teeth nibbling on her pink lips she notices and stops, butterflies present in her stomach at the thought of Harry thinking about her lips.

“I think I’m free,” Harry teases. He brings a hand to his chin, looking up at the ceiling in a joking manner as if he’s pondering what else could be on his schedule for the day. Y/N knows that he’s not doing a whole lot these days, but for all she knows he could have already had things planned with his friends. But Y/N can’t lie - she’s happy to hear he hasn’t.

Y/N chuckles and reaches forward, smacking his arm that’s resting on his chin with a gentle force. Harry chuckles along with her and stops his act as if he’s really thinking about if he can accept her invitation or not. Y/N lets her arms fall back to her side again and smiles, looking into Harry’s dazzling eyes as he smiles back at her. They stand there in his doorway, smiling, for a few beats of silence before Harry tells her.

“You’re going to have to help me with an outfit though,” he says, “there is no way I’m going to a party in New York City that a ton of fashion obsessed people will be at, without your help,” he states. Y/N chuckles again and nods, bringing her Starbucks cup to her mouth slowly.

“I can do that,” she says, tilting her cup to have a sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “and what time will you be picking me up for this date?” He asks jokingly, although a big piece of him is hoping she won’t deny that it’s a date.

Y/N smiles, feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks, “like, six-ish,” she tells him.

“Sounds good,” Harry says.

“Good,” Y/N nods, a smile still on her lips, “I have to go now though, I have a few presents for my coworkers I need to wrap and some last minute phone calls to make to get things all set for tomorrow,” Y/N explains, taking a few slow steps backwards while her eyes are still glued to Harry’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Harry says, his smile never flattening either.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, her stomach in a fit of butterflies as she realizes that she really just invited him to her work party.

Turning on her heels, she hears Harry close his door, and walks to her own apartment to unlock the door. She did it, she’s going to be bringing Harry to a work function - this was kinda big, she realizes, but she’s too excited to worry right now. So, instead she turns on her Christmas playlist on her TV, after she steps out of her shoes and hangs up her coat, and sings along as she sets up her little workstation to wrap a few presents.

Y/N has been running around like a chicken with their head chopped off all day. She was determined to have this holiday party be perfect. Harry was her plus one, she imagined things going so well between the two of them tonight. But then things started to go south the moment she walked into the office this morning and Amanda bombarded her at the front doors, “we were double booked” she had told Y/N. Turns out their location for their party tonight was double booked and the other function had already paid off the business to let them have the space. Therefore having Y/N scrabbling for a place to have this party.

“We should just have it here,” Sammy suggested.

It was a last resort suggestion, but in reality it could work. The building their office was in had a decent sized room that was used for conferences and such. And after calling the building staff they learnt it wasn’t being used, so they started working on getting that set up.

Y/N was on the phone for hours, making sure the catering and bar services company they hired knew the relocation, and having them show up on time to get the set up going too. Then she was downstairs to help the decorations team replan their set up before she was literally running down the streets to the Target in order to buy new table clothes that would fit the tables the building provided. And somehow, with a little blood and sweat and a few tears shed too, Y/N made it happen.

She lets out a loud deep breath and looks at the room around her. The shimmering lights hanging down from the ceiling, perfectly placed so they wouldn’t hit anyone in the head but still looking very dreamy. There’s one wall full of fresh wreaths, some huge and some small, with matching red ribbons and ornaments on them. It’s picture perfect and Y/N already had taken a short video of them as they were setting it up to post on her Instagram. The way the plain white tablecloths she had bought earlier were now styled with more fresh pine that was used for the wreaths, with a few candles on each table and more red Christmas ornaments too, it all just looked so good. She especially loved the large real Christmas tree that she and Sammy took the time to decorate that sat in the far corner of the room by the gorgeously decorated bar that stretches along the back wall. Overall, it’s fashionable, Instagram worthy, and perfect.

Y/N is about to tell someone hired for the event to add a few more beaded garlands around the entryway when her phone rings. She gives the young woman a smile and holds up a finger while producing her phone that’s in her jean pocket. Looking at the screen she sees Harry’s name at the top, which causes a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She smiles and swipes a finger across the screen to answer his call.

“Hey,” she says, walking away from the people that are rushing around her to finalize the party.

“Hey,” Harry breathes out. Y/N can hear the nerves in the one word. She furrows her brows and begins to worry that maybe he can’t make it anymore, suddenly feeling very upset at the thought. “You’re late,” he states. Y/N’s brows pinch together further and her eyes narrow.

“What?” She questions.

“Well, it’s almost six, and you’re supposed to help me pick something to wear, but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to. I’m sure I can figure something out, but don’t want to make you look bad by bringing a badly dressed bloke to your party,” Harry explains, catching himself sounding a bit needy. He didn’t need her to help style him for the holiday party, but he wanted her opinion of course.

“Oh my god what time is it?” Y/N gasps, asking Harry the question but really more asking herself as she realizes time has slipped by her in the whirlwind that was relocating this party.

“Um, quarter to six,” Harry tells her.

“Shit, H, I’m sorry, I haven’t looked at a clock in hours, I’m still at my office. We had to work fast and relocate the party for tonight, I’ve been so busy I didn’t even realize,” Y/N explains, her eyes searching around the room for either Amanda or Sammy or really anyone that could take over for her to hurriedly get ready.

“Oh, it’s okay, not a problem really,” Harry says, tapping a pen on the notebook that’s in front of him. He had been caught up a bit with his own work too, writing a song.

“Okay,” Y/N sighs, “game plan, you can send me pictures of some things you can wear tonight, I’ll give you my opinion, and then I’ll get ready here and are you okay to meet me in the lobby at seven-thirty?” Y/N asks, finally locking eyes with Amanda across the room.

Amanda’s eyes are wide at the sight of her, arms thrown up into the air as she’s confused as to why Y/N is still here - Y/N may have told her she had to meet up with her new plus one. Amanda was just as excited to meet Harry as Sammy was, damn gossiper had gone and told Amanda all about Y/N and Mark’s breakup and about Harry now too. Y/N had glared at Sammy as Amanda asked a million questions about Harry earlier.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “I can do that, did you need me to bring you anything or are you all set at your office?”

Y/N smiles at Harry naturally asking her if she needed anything from him. “I’m good, I’ll just text you the address and let me know when you’re on the way, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry echoes.

“Okay, I have to go, I’ll see you soon,” she says. Harry says a goodbye before she hangs up the phone just as Amanda is walking up to her.

“What in the world are you still doing here? I thought you were supposed to leave like an hour ago to go get ready and meet up with your new man?” Amanda questions. She is dressed for tonight's festivities, wearing a sparkling silver gown that fit her like a glove. Her hair is out of it’s usual low ponytail and is pin straight. She looks amazing, of course.

“First,” Y/N points a finger, “not my new man, by any means. And second, I got caught up helping with some issues with catering and then I was fixing some lighting issues. I’m going upstairs to get ready, and Harry is meeting me here,” she tells Amanda.

“Go, go,” she shoos her off, “steal a good dress from that room of broken dreams.”

Amanda is referring to the small room upstairs in their office that holds many pieces from over the year that clients didn’t fit, didn’t like, or just simply didn’t get to see. Y/N nods, having already planned to go there, and rushes away to get upstairs and get ready. As she opens the door to the room full of clothing Harry texts her a few pictures of items in his closet he has for tonight.

Her eyes are glued on her screen, attention taken away from her finding something the moment she sees Harry’s name. There’s a black suit laid on his bed in the first picture, the idea of seeing him in a classic black suit and tie has her feeling some type of way, but it’s not the look for tonight. She swipes to the next photo and likes the cream and light blue vertical stripe button up shirt but not the deep purple trousers he paired with them. But in the next picture she really likes the fun look to the trousers, like a sort of grandpa’s sweater vibe with browns and whites in an interesting square pattern. Completely ignoring the black shirt he had paired with it, she texts him back.

Shirt from the second pic and pants from the third one! Trust me! Lol. And here’s the address, she types quickly, sending him her location, before pocketing her phone and turning to the first rack of clothing. Immediately she grabs for a light blue Gucci suit jacket. It would go with Harry’s outfit perfectly, she thinks with a smile, putting it to the side for him. She remembers the suit was too big for a certain younger actor who was hosting SNL last week, Timothee something or another, if she’s remembering correctly.

Y/N goes through what feels like is a hundred dresses, pantsuits, and everything in between before she finds the one she likes. It’s her size, thank god, and isn’t too shimmery and crazy like she feels everyone else will be dressed like. It’s a bit of a darker blue that the colour of the suit jacket she had pulled aside for Harry, with thin straps and a tight torso that had wires for under his boobs for a built in bra type of look. It ends just above her ankles and is embroidered with beautiful beads and stunning flowers and leaf designs. But with a bit of a scandalous look as the embroidery isn’t as crowded near the bottom of the dress and leaves her in a sheer fabric. Overall, she just really enjoys how it looks and feels - and truthfully, she can’t be too picky with such little time to finish getting ready now.

It works out perfectly as she looks over herself in the washroom on the main level, fluffing her hair that she had curled and touching up her makeup, Harry texts that he’s just about to walk inside. Hurrying through out of the washroom, she walks out into the lobby, the black heels she had taken from the heap of shoes upstairs click along the floor as she waves hello and smiles at the people around that she knows. There would be just over a hundred people in attendance for their party tonight, not too big but not too small either, and she was happy to see all the familiar faces she’s gotten to work with over the year. But, there is one face in particular she’s most happy to see.

Only Harry’s not alone. In fact, she shouldn’t be all that surprised to see her best friend had managed to single him out in the small crowd that was waiting to get into the conference room she’s spent all day setting up. She sighs and makes her way towards them, smiling at another colleague that gave her a quick compliment as she passed by. Sammy caught her eye first, noticing how she’s glaring at him but he only smirks back at her.

Then Harry shifts, looking over his shoulder at whatever Sammy is looking at, and he pauses at the sight of Y/N only a few feet away. Holy shit, Harry thinks to himself as he takes in how she looks. The dress fits her flawlessly, accentuating her curves and causing Harry to shamelessly check her out. She’s always beautiful, stunning really, but tonight she looks like she should be a runway model. He feels a bit underdressed beside her, even though she picked out his outfit, even just a jacket would make him feel a little less casual at this event.

“You look,” Harry pauses as he struggles to find the right word. Y/N has stopped now in front of him, hands fiddling with her small clutch resting in front of her. “Just, unbelievable, wow,” Harry finally breathes out. His words cause a warm blush to creep over his face, her eyes falling to the floor to catch his black boots on his feet, as she hides away her grin.

“You look really good, too,” she tells him, although her words are far less swoon worthy than his words. It still causes Harry to smile too, his stomach doing a few flips.

“And how do I look?” Sammy asks jokingly, breaking their moment as they both turn to look at him. He’s smirking and holding out both arms, showing off his sparkling gold suit jacket that he’s worn with some black tight suit pants and a black button up shirt. He looks good, obviously, but Y/N shoulders shake as she chuckles at her friends behaviour.

“You look marvellous,” Harry compliments him with a smile, Y/N looks at Harry and shakes her head.

“Oh, he’s good,” Sammy notes, pointing a finger at Harry but is looking at Y/N. “If you don’t keep him I’ll take him, like that little feeling I get in my stomach when he speaks, hm,” he hums, winking at Harry for good measure too. Both Harry and Y/N chuckle at her friend. Suddenly someone is calling for Sammy’s attention, and of course, he answers to it right away and leaves Y/N and Harry to themselves.

“I’m sorry about him,” Y/N says as they face each other once more, “Sammy can be a lot to handle,” she adds.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Harry assures her.

She hums and smiles, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. “I find that hard to believe, but alright,” she says, “oh! I have something for your outfit,” she mentions, grabbing his arm gently to guide the way to the building's front desk where they had set up a coat check.

Harry’s in his own head about how she so naturally grabbed onto him, her delicate hand wrapped around his arm before dropping down to her side again as she approached the line that was for coat check. He furrows his brows, confused if she was going to ask for the jacket he had brought with him, but instead he watches as she walks around the tables and helps herself to the rack of jackets. She pulls out a light blue suit jacket and smiles over it at him, watching as his eyes widen. He knows the jacket, it was a part of Gucci’s line last season. He had browsed through some Vogue article and loved the colour immediately, how did she know?

“It’s just sitting upstairs, unworn, and it deserves some attention,” Y/N explains, holding it out for him.

“I can just wear this, tonight? No fee?” Harry asks, finding this situation a little unreal honestly.

“Well,” Y/N gives him a smug smile, “how about your fee is a dance with me, later,” she bargains.

“Oh, there will be plenty of dancing, of course,” Harry says. He takes the suit jacket off the hanger, passing the empty hanger back to Y/N and then puts on the jacket. Shrugging his shoulders a few times to get it to sit right on his body, but boy does it ever fit him well. Like it was made for him, honestly. Cause my god does it ever look good on him, Y/N thinks as she watches him straighten out the jacket till it feels comfortable. Harry looks up to see Y/N staring at him, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. He smirks, dimples popping up for show, and it causes Y/N to snap out of it and turn to put the hanger away. She then takes the few steps forward to Harry and smiles while looking up at him.

“You look phenomenal,” Y/N tells him, upping her previous compliment from before. Harry’s heart swells at her words and he extends his bent arm, for her to hold onto his forearm.

“Shall we?” Harry asks, motioning for her to grab onto his arm and walk into the now open doors to her party.

“We shall,” she smiles and puts her hand on his arm to let him guide them into the party she spent all day preparing. Y/N can’t help but notice the looks the people around them are giving her, a few smirks from other girls - with obvious jealousy on their faces. It makes her head spin, realizing that she’s about to be the talk of the office all because of the hot guy on her arm. Little do they know, he’s a lot more than how good he looks in this light blue suit jacket.

It only takes an hour before the rest of the people at the party realize that Harry is more than that pretty face of his.

He charms the socks off of every single person she introduces him to. Not to mention that Sammy is basically attached to his hip, begging for the attention, and Amanda has given Y/N a thumbs up every chance she’s gotten. Which she’s currently doing from the sidelines of the dance floor as Y/N is dancing around with Sammy, Harry and a few others now a few hours into the party. Y/N chuckles, the few tequila drinks making her feel a bit giggly, as she throws her head back and sways to the music. Harry’s watching her, admiring how carefree she looks as she dances to the music. Not an ounce of worry of any judgement from her coworkers around her.

“Y/N,” a colleague of hers comes up, putting a hand on her arm to get her full attention. She smiles as she meets her eyes. “Merry Christmas love, I’m going to head out with my husband, who very much loves your new boyfriend by the way,” she explains, mirroring Y/N’s smile. Harry is distracted, dancing with Sammy, and thankfully doesn’t hear her comment.

“Oh! He’s not my boyfriend,” she informs her, for probably the third time tonight. But her older colleague, Heidi, is rather forgetful when she has a few glasses on wine - something she’d learnt over the few years of working together. “Also, I have a present for you, just wait here and I’ll go get it and be right back I promise,” Y/N assures her, giving her a pout for good measure.

Heidi sighs but is still smiling, “fine, I’ll wait,” she nods.

Y/N is walking passed Harry, causing him to pinch his brows together and reach out for her. Through the night they didn’t leave each other's side, even when one of them had to use the washroom they let each other know. His hand is gentle, grasping onto her arm as she’s about to walk away, and pulling her to look his way. Y/N matches his look of confusion but smiles at the little pout on Harry’s lips at the sight of her leaving the dance floor without him.

“Where are you going?” He asks, bending his head down closer to her. His breath is warm against the skin, his lips mere inches from her ear. A chill falls over her as she looks back into his enchanting eyes.

“Upstairs, I need to grab something,” she states.

“Oh,” Harry pauses, “okay,” he says, still looking into her eyes. They were so beautiful, she’s so beautiful.

“Did you want to come with me?” Y/N asks. She doesn’t know why she does, maybe because she doesn’t want to leave Harry’s side for a single second or maybe her buzz from the tequila is making her brave. She imagines some alone time with Harry for the first time tonight would be nice.

Harry nods and slowly lets his hand drop from her arm to her hand. Their fingers intertwining like it's natural, ignoring the wide eyed look from Sammy, and Y/N leads the way out of the room and into the lobby. Harry thinks she’ll drop his hand once they reach the elevator but she doesn’t. It’s like a volcano of butterflies has erupted in his stomach. Feeling bold, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand a few times as he inhales her sweet smelling perfume as she stands so close to him while waiting for the elevator doors to open.

Every moment they’ve had together tonight has been amazing, the same longing looks and full smiles between them but were always surrounded by others. Seems Y/N is rather popular at her place of work, everyone wants to hang around her and he’s been introduced to more people than he can count. Although Y/N did whisper in his ear “Sammy and Amanda are the only ones you really need to remember”, thankfully. But he really is having a good time as they enjoyed a quick meal at the beginning of the night, talking amongst the people at their table, then when that was finished up the wine was replaced with harder alcohol and things got pretty wild. Turns out these New Year City fashion obsessed people knew how to party and it wasn’t all gossip and trends with them. Harry was finding himself laughing, dancing and feeling more free than he had in quite a while. And maybe the tequila drinks he’s been sipping was helping, as he actually ended up liking Y/N’s drink of choice.

“Everyone loves you,” Y/N states, breaking the silence just as the elevator opens and they step inside. Harry smirks and lets her step up to hit the button inside, using her free hand as they still are holding each other. Their hands hang in the air as she steps forward, hitting the button, and then steps back to be right beside him.

“Glad my charm could be of use to impress your coworkers,” Harry says, making Y/N smile but rolls her eyes as she squeezes his hand that still holds her. They’re holding hands! Don’t freak out! Y/N is internally screaming at herself.

“Cheeky,” Y/N teases, using his word back at him finally. Although all those times he’s texted her ‘cheeky’ or ‘cheeky girl’ she does get butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, huffing out a chuckle while raising his eyebrows.

Y/N laughs and Harry pulls on her hand that he’s holding to bring her even closer to him. Their sides touch, her bare arm brushing against the suit jacket, and she swore a spark of electricity shot through them as they were now leaning against one another. She looks from their feet, toe to toe, to how her bent knee just barely strokes against his pants, then looking at their conjoint hands - Harry still rubbing his thumb against her warm skin every once in a while - all the way up to meet Harry’s eyes. His face is so close, only a few inches away from hers. Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat, her lips parting as she inhales slowly while looking into Harry’s eyes. Are they about to kiss? Both Harry and Y/N’s thoughts are swarming with the idea of their lips pressing together and sharing their first kiss right here, right now in this elevator-

A sudden ding! causes them to blink out of whatever trance they were in. Y/N turns her head to watch the doors open onto her office floor, only a few dim lights are kept on during the night hours so it looks a bit different than during the day. Harry’s only watching her though. Taking in every inch of her lips. The curve of her cupids bow, the pout of her bottom lip. How good the red lipstick still looks even hours later since their night has gone on. Oh how he wants to mess up that red colour, smearing it with his own lips, he’s in his head with many thoughts as Y/N tugs on his hand to bring them out of the elevator and into the main area of the office.

She has to let go of Harry’s hand to enter in the code to the main doors for their office that are frosted glass, beside the large desk that their secretary answers calls and logs in clients entering for any appointments. The sleek look from the large frosted glass doors and all white marble flooring and white desk compliments the big block letters of their company name that have neon lights behind it. Currently the colours were red and green, glowing with full holiday cheer as Y/N loved so much.

Harry’s watching Y/N, her slight sway to her body as she pushes open the door and holds it open for Harry to walk through. He nods and smiles, then let's Y/N lead the way. While her office floor is all very exciting and professional, he’s more focused on Y/N. She’s talking about how she had bought some gifts for her coworkers and got so busy today she forgot a few. Harry was in awe of her and how she managed to pull off the relocation of this party so quickly. Amanda and many others were praising her all night, which Y/N would only respond by shaking her head and brushing off their kind words. He admires that about her a lot, how she is confident but doesn’t let people’s praises go to her head by any means.

As Y/N is walking across the room to her desk, something catches Harry’s eye. He pauses, double checks that Y/N isn’t watching him, and then leans over to the bulletin board at some random desk. With one swift movement he rips it off and then quickly stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket before he turns around to find Y/N at what he assumes is her desk. It’s a large white desk, up against the floor to ceiling windows, it’s quite the view - but, again, his eyes are only on her.

“Okay, so this one’s for Heidi, and then this one is for her and her husband,” Y/N is rambling aloud as she reaches under her desk for the few last presents she had. The only other one was for Sammy, so she should bring it down with her too to catch him before either of them leaves.

She stands up straight again, putting the presents on the desk when she looks over her shoulder at Harry. He’s staring, which isn’t new, but it still makes her smile and her head to spin knowing that his eyes always seem to be on her. But it’s the mischievous smile across his lips that brings Y/N to a stop, pinching her eyebrows together as she tilts her head to the side.

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asks, getting right to the point.

Harry raises a brow and jokingly says, “what look?”

Y/N just rolls her eyes and hums, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she turns her body towards Harry. She crosses her arms over her chest and Y/N doesn’t miss how his eyes drop to her movements for a split second before meeting her eyes again. She feels like she’s on fire under his stare, the burn so deep within her only blazing when he licks his lips. This is it, this is the moment, Harry thinks before he can second guess himself. He takes a step forward, standing so close to Y/N that the toes of their shoes touch and she has to look up into his piercing stare now.

Y/N notices him reach into his pocket, and then just as quickly, he takes his hand out and holds it above them. She furrows her brows, looking up to see something green between his fingers. Her heart stops, her breath getting caught in her throat as she inspects the item more. But when Harry clears his throat, her attention falls back into him. His beautiful green eyes look a bit nervous, it’s adorable, Y/N thinks.

“Can I kiss you underneath the mistletoe, Y/N?” Harry asks, his voice in that now familiar and warm low tone.

Y/N is pretty sure Harry can hear her heart beating out of her chest right now. She stares back into his eyes, feelings for this man hitting her like a wrecking ball. Y/N has never felt something so strong for someone before. And Harry standing here, holding mistletoe, asking to kiss her, it by far one of the most romantic things ever. Unsure she can find her voice, Y/N settles with nodding her head twice and never letting her eyes fall off Harry’s. His lips turn ever so slightly upwards, smiling, before he takes a deep breath and leans forward and both their eyes flutter shut as the moment they both have dreamt of is becoming a reality.

When their lips finally touch it feels like time itself stops around them. Like no one else or nothing else matters in the world but them in this moment right here. Y/N’s heart hasn’t settled one bit, and her knees feel weak as Harry’s free hand gently touches her hip to steady them both. She tries to ignore the touch and instead focus on how soft his lips feel against hers. The feeling flares the burn she feels around him and only amplifies at how addicting his kiss is.

But it was clear, Y/N and Harry both could never dream up a kiss was perfect as this one. Harry’s pure raw emotion that he feels as he decides to pull back from the kiss, to look at Y/N with his eyes only half open, he just had to make sure he wasn’t imagining any of this. But she’s just as beautiful with her swollen lips and half open dreamy eyes as he had thought.

This time Y/N pulls Harry down by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, nudging his head down to meet her halfway and get lost in their kissing again. Harry now is clenching the plastic mistletoe in one hand while both his hands curl up at her hips. With every second, every smell of her rose perfume filling his nose, he’s sure he’ll wake from this dream at any time. The twisting in both their stomachs don’t settle as the kiss continues, Y/N’s lips parting slightly as she breathes out a small gasp when they both pull each other even closer.

Their bodies are basically molding into one, Y/N’s hair falling into their face as she tugs him even closer if it’s possible. But Harry quickly reacts and brings the hand without the mistletoe up, carding his fingers through her locks and bringing the hair away from their moving lips before he rests his hand on her cheek. The only reason that they both pull apart the second time is because they need air - both their chests are heaving against one another as they struggle to catch their breath.

Y/N could never describe the sensations she was feeling in the fleeting second after their kiss. She opens her eyes, looking at Harry’s chest as it rises and falls in quick motions, before she slowly raises her gaze. There’s a pit in her stomach, feeling a bit nervous to meet his eyes after such a passionate kiss. So she takes her time, her eyes scanning over Harry’s face. His sharp jaw, clenching as he watches her. She smiles at the sight of her red lipstick just faintly smudging against his own lips. Finally, she lifts her eyes and meets his stare.

“Amazing,” Harry breathes out, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Breathtaking, actually,” Y/N corrects him, lifting her lips into a bit of a cheeky smile. Harry huffs out a chuckle and smiles, squeezing her side as he lets his hand drop from her face. He seems like he might step away, but Y/N doesn’t want their little bubble to burst quite yet. So she pouts and rubs her thumb over the side of his neck slowly. “Kiss me again, please,” she says in a soft voice.

“Always, darling,” Harry tells her and brings both his hands up to cup her face, tilting her head back just slightly in order to place his lips over hers again. Their kiss only last for another moment before Y/N gets a sudden prick to her cheek, causing her to break away and furrow her brows.

“What the-?” Y/N pauses as she takes Harry's hand and uses her fingers to pry back his own. A giggle passes her lips as the sight inside his hand. She takes the plastic green leaves and red berries. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she tries to hold back the laughter bubbling inside of her.

“What?” Harry questions, letting Y/N take the mistletoe out of his hand.

“Harry,” she sighs and looks up at him, “this is holly, not mistletoe,” she explains. It’s a common misconception, truly, but it only makes the moment they just had all that more special.

Harry’s cheeks heat up instantly at her words. Pure embarrassment washing over him as he didn’t even realize his mistake. His whole big romantic gesture now in the ruins because they kissed underneath holly not mistletoe. Harry shakes his head and reaches for the holly in Y/N’s hand, but she moves faster and closes her hand around it - not caring that it pokes her palm. He is the one to pull together his eyebrows now, meeting her eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” she admits to him, placing the holly carefully on her desk without looking away from Harry’s eyes. “I don’t care that you made a common mistake, don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, bringing her free hand to brush against his warm red cheeks. “It was-” she pauses and lets out a deep breath, “you’re perfect, H,” she says.

“No, you are,” he declares, meeting her halfway again to crash their lips together once more.

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until part 5 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

#harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #1dff #cstsyl #OK AT FIRST I HATED HOW THIS PART WAS TURNING OUT BUT I ENDED UP SAVING IT??? I THINK?#pls feel free to talk to me about it!! and remember to like and reblog :)

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dearcat1 · 3 years

Note

Hi there! I absolutely adore Xanxu's parenting adventures, but I could only find 8 & 9. Is there a tag I can check out for the others? Sorry for the bother, super excited to read it! Thank you for writing it!

Screw it hahaha that tag is not working no matter what I do about it. I'm just going to post everything that's already published here. So: sorry about the long post.

And for anybody who's interested in reading it, I'm putting the next ones under "parenting adventures au". That should be a better tag.

I hope you like it! I meant for it to be cute.

[Xanxus’s terrible bad day]

Part 1 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

Xanxus does not, in any way shape or form, appreciate mad scientists. He spits out the blood, cleaning up the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. The other hand keeping a tight grip on his remaining x-gun. Irritated, he just keeps glaring at the toddler whimpering in front of him.

Seriously?

What the fuck!

How is this even his life, Xanxus doesn't know but he demands a fucking raise. And all the goddam alcohol. All of it. Every single fucking drop.

This is ridiculous. The enemy is dead and even Xanxus feels a little uncomfortable with the amount of blood and dead bodies surrounding a two-year-old. Or what looks like a two-year-old, in Xanxus rather uninformed opinion.

Brat picks himself up, eyes still watery and then… oh no, oh no, no, no. He makes grabby hands at Xanxus. Xanxus sneers, uncomfortable but the newly miniaturized Sawada just pouts stubbornly, stumbling on wet sticky blood as he tries to make his way to the older Sky.

Xanxus's reaction is pure instinct. He lunges forward, grabs the kid by the back of his overly large hoodie and pulls him up. Brat settles on Xanxus's hip, tiny face hidden against Xanxus's shoulder and the Wrath stands there, feeling more than a little awkward.

Alright, then, he thinks. Fuck it. So an armful of mini-mini-Sawada in one arm, a gun in the other hand. Base full of dead people who are either already dead or soon to be. Because Xanxus is through like that.

Clearing his throat, Xanxus hoists the brat up a little more and stalks out of the room. Cleaning up the base is easy enough, finding Byakuran's little note on the desk should be more of a surprise than it is.

"Have fun on your vacation! You can bond now ~ :3"

Right, Xanxus needs a raise, all the alcohol, and a marshmallow enthusiast killing season.

[Cabin by the sea]

Part 2 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures

Finding the little cabin by the sea is easy enough with the handy map the marshmallow freak left for them. Mini-mini-Sawada is a surprisingly obedient toddler so Xanxus is still uncomfortable but at least he isn't deaf from crying fits.

The only time the brat had cried, it had been silent sad tears that managed to make Xanxus feel like an ass when the brat confessed to being hungry.

Note to self: brats need food.

So Xanxus had settled in in the little cabin, laid the brat down on the smaller bed for the night and thrown himself to his own bed, intent on waiting this shit out.

Except that he'd been woken up in the middle of the night by a toddler sneaking into his bed and now Xanxus can't sleep because mini-mini-Sawada is tiny. As in smaller than Xanxus's chest tiny and Xanxus is not a good man, he's not a kind man.

But there's a toddler sleeping on his chest, all trust and far too delicate limbs and Xanxus finds himself terrified of falling asleep because what if when he does, he moves and crushes the little brat under him? Then the brat would suffocate and die.

And yes, Xanxus could, potentially, just pick up the brat and return him to his own bed. But what if he doesn't wake up the next time the brat sneaks in? Because if Xanxus has learned something these last couple of days is that mini-mini-Sawada might be mellow but he also has a stubborn bone that won't be reasoned with.

In the end, Xanxus ends up staying awake all night, staring at the ceiling with a hand keeping the toddler in place, just in case he rolls over and falls to his death or something. He waits until the hour changes from absolutely ridiculous to marginally decent to leave the bed.

Doing stuff with a toddler on his arm is easier now that he has practice, his morning routine is no different. It's just when he reaches the point of taking a shower that he finds himself at a loss. They stink, they need to wash. Xanxus has no idea how to clean a brat and he's pretty sure that toddlers don't wash themselves.

Xanxus looks longingly at his phone and snarls, ignoring mini-Tsunayoshi stirring in his arm. "Fucking dimension without YouTube. What the fuck."

[Watery warfare]

Part 3 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures

Xanxus decides on the bathtub for practicality. It seems like a bath would be easier to handle with a toddler than a shower. Especially a sleepy, clingy toddler. Except that the second Xanxus set the brat down, brat went absolutely fucking insane.

Watching bemusedly as the brat slaps the water around, Xanxus ignores the mess it's making on the floor and chuckles. "Yeah? Show it who's the boss, shitty brat."

Tsunayoshi just screams louder, cackling like a maniac.

"Yeah, yeah." Shrugging, Xanxus sits down on the tub, ready to wash himself. He'll clean up mini-mini-Sawada after.

Mini-mini-Sawada has other ideas, however. As soon as Xanxus settles down, the toddler reaches for him and Xanxus helps him sit beside him, lest he falls down and drowns. "What? I thought you were in the middle of a war, trash. Can't just abandon that, you know?"

The toddler just sticks his fingers in the shampoo Xanxus has just poured into his hand.

"No, that's not for you." Xanxus rolls his eyes, scrubbing his hair and ignoring mini-Tsunayoshi watching him curiously. Ok, so maybe Xanxus might be developing a bit of a soft spot for the toddler. Maybe. It's just… the brat's flames might still be dormant at this age but that doesn't change the fact that whatever is still there… it resonates with Xanxus.

And that's a relief. It is, because it means that Xanxus might not be Timoteo's but he's still Vongola enough for this. Besides, the resonance helped Xanxus get over his initial 'ew, baby' aversion and is probably the reason the brat was so quick to trust Xanxus.

He wonders if it'll translate to the grown Sawada, once he returns.

There's just something about mini-mini-Sawada, so small, so breakable and so trusting, that makes Xanxus feel a little protective.

[Shopping trip]

Part 4 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

It takes Xanxus about a week to concede that this won't be a quick matter. Which means that they need clothes. Xanxus could, in theory, keep washing his uniform daily and it wouldn't be a problem. Except he's fucking tired of doing laundry and the brat can't keep wearing the same oversized hoodie for days on end.

He turns to look at mini-mini-Sawada, who is curled up in Bester's flank, fast asleep, and sighs. It seems they're going shopping.

Which is easier said than done. Unearthing the wad of cash and credit card the marshmallow freak left behind is easy enough, taking mini-mini-Sawada is easy as well. As long as Xanxus doesn't put him down, they're alright.

No, the issue comes from the clerk who is watching Xanxus like he's wondering whether he should seek the police on him for kidnapping. But Xanxus is still a Sky, no matter that he doesn't do the polite charming shit that Tsunayoshi and Cavallone are so fond of.

"We had a little accident," Xanxus shrugs, gruff. "He needs clothes."

Still, the clerk seems unsure until mini-mini-Sawada straightens in Xanxus's hold to point at something in the store. "Ansus! Beste! Look, Beste!"

Bester, Xanxus knows, is back in his box but he turns to look all the same. He takes a good look at the white cat plushie and laughs. "Yeah, that's Bester alright."

Ignoring the now bemused clerk, Xanxus makes his way to that rack and offers Mini-Tsunayoshi the plushie. The toddler grabs it instantly, cuddling it to his chest and Xanxus snorts, catching a look at bath toys down the ail. Well, fuck it. They're spending Byakuran's money anyway, might as well treat themselves.

"Come on, you need ammunition for your next bath."

It is entirely possible that Xanxus got a little shopping happy but he gives about zero shits, the tiny shirt with a printed 'Mini-Boss' on it is Xanxus's absolute favourite.

He buys his own clothes quickly and makes a bee-line for the cabin, mini-mini-Sawada cheerfully waving goodbye to the shopping mall.

[Nap]

Part 5 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

What the fuck, Xanxus thinks, bemusedly. It should have been fine. The weather had been nice and the cabin has a nice piece of beach right there so Xanxus had taken the brat out and yes, maybe, Xanxus took advantage of the nice weather to take a nice nap.

But it should have been fine, Bester had been napping with the brat. Covered by the shade. And the brat never wanders off anyway. Bester would have woken Xanxus up if something had happened or handled it himself.

And yet, here they are.

Xanxus wakes up to find Tsunayoshi sitting next to a hole, definitely of Bester’s making and lapping the water from it?

He has questions, Xanxus has so many questions.

First, how did they get water inside the hole? Where does this water come from? Also, why? Bester looks too damn proud of himself, Xanxus adores him but right now, he’s not sure he trusts the liger. Tsunayoshi laps the water again, makes a disgusted face and repeats. “What the fuck?”

Laughing helplessly, Xanxus stands up, patting the sand off of his clothes. “What are you doing, you little shit?” He picks mini-Tsunayoshi up, settling him on his hip.

The brat tries to reach for Bester, “juice?”

“No,” Xanxus chortles, gesturing for Bester to follow. “That’s not juice, trash. That’s seawater at best. What the fuck.”

“Fuck!”

“Shit,” Xanxus picks up their stuff with their other hand and makes his way back inside the cabin to hunt down some juice. “Your parents are going to lose their shit over that, aren’t they?” Toddlers usually don’t use curse words, he knows that much. Then, he remembers that the father in question is fucking Iemitsu and shrugs it off.

[Tuna-fishy]

Part 6 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

They get returned to their original universe about 4 months in, to them at least. It looks like they’ve been gone for barely a week on their own. Xanxus doesn’t care about that, he’s more concentrated on the strained little smile Byakuran is sending to mini-mini-Sawada.

“What!?” Xanxus snaps, ignoring the toddler’s face hidden against his neck. Brat is shy, that’s all.

“Aaah, yes,” Byakuran shifts uncomfortably, sending a bemused look Xanxus’s way before looking back down to Sawada. “That wasn’t part of the plan?”

“Are you fucking asking?” Xanxus ignores mini-mini-Sawada trying to share his crumpled snack and twitches, debating the virtues of calling Bester or seeking his elements on this moron.

Iemitsu, apparently, decides that’s his moment to shine. Bastard has been starry-eyed since the second he caught sight of the toddler in Xanxus’s arms. And no, Xanxus is, in no way, shape or form, annoyed by this. The consigliere steps forward, big goofy smile on his face, “Tuna-fishy! Come to papa!”

And mini-Tsunayoshi loses his shit, loses it completely. As in loud screams and tears and a grip hard enough on Xanxus’s shirt that the Wrath wonders for a second whether he’ll rip it. Xanxus reacts on instinct because he’s been looking after this tiny brat for months now.

He shifts his weight to put distance between his toddler and the idiotic blonde and points his gun directly between the asshole’s eyes. His elements react with him, of course, and Xanxus finds himself bracketed between Squalo and Lussuria, all traces of humour lost.

“What the fuck, trash?” The question is met with silence but all of them saw the way the toddler’s mostly dormant flames recoiled from the man.

Byakuran steps forward, hands up in placation. “Now, now, no need for this.” He lays a restraining hand on Sawada’s shoulder, “I do believe it might be sweet Tsuna’s nap time?”

Xanxus takes the out, pivoting from his spot but not holstering his gun until he makes it all the way to the car. The brat is still making his best impression of a limpet and Xanxus sighs, cleaning some of the tears off the kid’s face.

“Fuck, Ansus,” the brat mutters sadly into the fabric of his plushie.

“Yeah, yeah, what the fuck.”

Somewhere in the background, Lussuria coos.

[Apple Slices]

Part 7 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures.

Xanxus wakes up with a tiny brat nestled on his stomach and Bester stretched out by his side. Right. He starts the morning routine without thinking much about it before he remembers that they’re not in the little cabin by the beach anymore.

And by remembers, he means he gets forcibly reminded by Squalo breaking down his door with a “voi! Wake up, shitty boss!” Lusurria trailing happily after the swordsman with breakfast in hand.

“You trash!” Xanxus growls quietly, “if you wake up the little brat, you’re dealing with the pouting!”

Luckily for all of them, the toddler has migrated to Bester’s flank while Xanxus went around preparing the things needed for the bad and is now busy sleeping away, face buried in his plushie.

“And get more napkins,” at Lussuria's odd look he adds, "brat's a messy eater."

Though now it seems like they'll be eating before bathing which is actually more practical. Why hadn't he thought of that? Doesn't really matter, this is how they will do things now. He picks up his own plate and eats quietly, ignoring Squalo's attempts to get Xanxus to do paperwork with the ease of long practice. Only once he's done he goes to pick mini-Tsunayoshi up, settling the sleepy toddler on his lap.

Tsunayoshi is more asleep than awake but he’s docile enough. “Juice?”

Xanxus’s mouth twitches up, “yeah, sure.”

Lussuria squeals, offering him a glass and Xanxus just knows, with one look, that shit is going to get messy. He accepts the apple slice being shoved into his mouth and says nothing. Luss can deal with this shit. "It's good," Xanxus approves, giving the brat another.

Mini-Mini-Sawada bites half of it off and then promptly falls asleep, slumping bonelessly to the side. Xanxus catches him before he can fall off, caught between incredulity and laughter. "The fuck?"

(Juice)

Part 8 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

Xanxus stalks into his office with mini-mini-Sawada on his hip. The Varia as a whole are smart enough to know that if he has one arm tied up in keeping the toddler in place, it means he still has one hand free to shoot them dead. “You trash,” he growls at the closest grunt, “bring me my wine!”

“Juice!” Mini-mini-Sawada adds, waving happily.

“And juice,” Xanxus adds, patting mini-mini-Sawada’s head agreeably. He lets the brat down on the floor inside his office, eyeing the paperwork. Fuck that thing, honestly.

By mini-mini-Sawada’s side, Bester chuffs gently, picking the toddler up by the back of his shirt and settling him between his paws. Mini-Tsunayoshi turns to hug the liger as best he can, happily waving his stuffed toy around and babbling up whatever comes through his head.

Toys, Xanxus decides, they're going to need those. Is two years old too young for a toy gun? Hmm… Well now he has google, doesn't he? Oh look, Timoteo's weekly ridiculous requests. He picks them up with a snort, fishing for some pencils in the drawer. "Here," Xanxus offers them to his brat, "this is your portion."

Mini-Mini-Sawada has taken to imitating everything Xanxus does. If Xanxus indulges him, it's simply because it makes things easier and no other reason whatsoever. He ignores the happy little squeal, smirking at his paperwork. When Squalo comes to pick up their finished piles, he makes a face at the brat's handiwork.

Xanxus glares, absent-mindedly cleaning the toddler's face after their snack.

Squalo just huffs, irritably pushing his hair out of his face. "Voi, FINE! Don't complain to me if they bitch!"

"Fuck that trash," Xanxus doesn't care about what they want.

"Trash!" His toddler smashes his juice box in agreement. Xanxus lips twitch. Ok, so he's a little fond.

(Strategy)

Part 9 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures

Timoteo knows something is going on the moment that the door opens for the Varia's scheduled paperwork drop and it's not only Squalo coming through it but also Mammon and Lussuria. He has half of the Varia in his office when it usually takes months of cajoling to get so much as one other than Squalo. And even then, for this very same dropoff.

But the Varia are a lot like cats, there's no use in pushing them too much. You have to dangle the bribe and wait for them to come to you. So Timoteo doesn't show hesitation, he simply settles in to give their paperwork a quick check. There's never any blood but he does get a kick out of seeing the progressively more ridiculous fake signatures over the line with his son's name.

This time, it's a toddler’s handprint in ink so strong that some of the text is no longer legible. Timoteo blinks once, twice and then looks up at the gleeful faces of the Varia Officers. "What is this?"

"The mini-boss," Mammon begins, smug and greedy, "is living up to his name,"

Oh, Timoteo realizes, thumbing through the paperwork with new eyes and finding the sort of drawings he hasn't seen in over a decade. Iemitsu had been over yesterday, Timoteo had listened to his ramblings with half an ear but now it's starting to make sense. It hadn't been Iemitsu's usual delusions, Tsunayoshi really is a toddler now. Carefully, Timoteo picks the drawings from the rest of the papers. "Name your price."

Squalo smirks, "vacation. One week, full expenses covered, anywhere we want."

"Done," Timoteo stretches his hand, waiting patiently while Squalo looks inside his bag and comes up with a little plate. Tsunayoshi's small palm is etched on it, colourful kid's drawing decorating the outer sides, under it, in Xanxus's elegant writing, it's Tsunayoshi's name in perfect japanese.

"It's perfect."

"Whatever," Squalo snorts. "Voi, nice doing business with you." Squalo turns on his heel and walks out the door, his two tag-alongs following behind him.

#fanfiction #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #xanxus #sawada tsunayoshi #ask #anon #parenting adventures au

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

“If you want me to, I will.” [Hotch x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Reader has worked for Aaron Hotchner for the past 6 months as the babysitter to his son, Jack.

Pairing: Hotch x (Female) Reader

Word Count: 7.4k – she thicc

Category: Smut/Fluff…and some angst because of who I am as a person.

Content Warning:

A/n: We all know that Hotch’s favorite album is the Beatles "White Album." And I have odd choices for songs that I use as lullabies. This idea came into my head and never left. This video of Billie Eillish singing part of the song is the closest to the structure of how I imagined it. Okay, okay, look, I know Roy wasn’t diagnosed until season 10. But I am taking creative liberties because I needed Jack to be younger.

Meaning this would be set around season 7. Hotch would be about 41, Jack is around 7; so, I made Reader around 26, giving them a 15-year age gap. Please don’t check my math. 😌

y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized texts are Reader’s thoughts.

-- If you want me to, I will. --

I was disoriented when I woke up. This isn’t my bed, I thought groggily. Wait…this isn’t even my house.

“Y/n,” a deep voice rumbled beside me.

I jackknifed up into a sitting position, eyes wide and my face flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Hotchner!” I quickly brought my hand up to my cheek to make sure I hadn’t drooled in my sleep. Because that would really be the cherry on top of my embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep. This is so embarrassing.”

Mr. Hotchner had been crouched down, putting himself level with his living room couch; the same couch he came home and found me sleeping on. In all the months I’d worked for the Hotchner/Brooks family, I’d never seen Mr. Hotchner smile anytime he wasn’t talking to his son, Jack. He always looked incredibly serious and sometimes incredibly sad; but the normal scowl was missing from his face as he looked at me, I noticed, watching him rise to a standing position.

“It’s fine, y/n. It’s after 1 o’clock in the morning.” He shifted, turning to go open the gun safe he kept in the part of the living room where his desk sat. Mr. Hotchner, or Hotch, as he kept telling me to call him, was the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit with the FBI. Which was just a very fancy way of saying he was a profiler that was in charge of all the other profilers. Some people just look like the jobs they have; Mr. Hotchner was one of those people. “Thank you for staying late, I didn’t think things were going to run this long. I didn’t even know you were here until I called Jessica a few hours ago.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled as I began to gather my things from the coffee table and put them into my bag. “She called me a little after 4; something happened with her dad, I think.” I zipped my bag shut, standing up quickly. “I didn’t mind helping out, Mr. Hotchner.”

He made a sound that was almost a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Hotchner, y/n. I know I’m a lot older than you, but that makes me feel ancient.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” I protested.

He looked incredulous. “Y/n, you’re still in college.”

Well, that stings a bit. “I’m in graduate school,” I said, my voice dampening a little bit. “I’m almost 27.”

Mr. Hotchner blinked at me. “Really? I thought you were younger than that…”

“My age didn’t come up in the numerous background checks you did on me?” I scoffed, immediately wincing as the words flew out of my mouth. “Oh my god, I just keep making this worse.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. For falling asleep on your couch…and for every moment after that. I’ll just go now.”

"Y/n," he called. "hang on, it's really late, and…I still need to pay you."

Jesus. “It is late, Mr. Hotchner, that’s why I need to head home.” I forced an awkward laugh. “I have class at 9 am.”

He pushed his hands into his pockets, regarding me in a way that made me squirm. I wasn’t used to a person paying attention to me the way Mr. Hotchner did. It didn’t make me uneasy; I just felt like I couldn’t hide anything from him…which made me uneasy. “What classes are you taking this semester?”

I don’t know why it stung so much that he knew virtually nothing about me. I’d worked for him for 6 months; he wasn’t obligated to know anything about me other than how I took care of his son. “I’m actually done with my course work this semester,” I mumbled. “I’m a TA…in a class that starts at 9 am.” It doesn’t matter, you’re just tired. “You-you can just pay me for tonight the next time I’m over. It’s not like you’re gonna stiff me.” I walked over to the door and threw a very quick “goodnight, Mr. Hotchner” over my shoulder before I scurried out.

I missed the quiet “Aaron. You can call me Aaron.”

The entire drive home, my thoughts were on Aaron Hotchner. None of this was what I expected when I took this job. I had been in graduate school for 2 years now. I had already gotten my master’s degree and had been accepted into the Ph.D. program. There are many branches of psychology, but I had always been fascinated with cognitive psychology; it seemed only natural that that is what I would pursue in graduate school. Once it became time to focus my interest in preparation for my dissertation, I decided to study the cognitive decay in Alzheimer's patients. We knew that they lost memories, but I wanted to explore how their basic cognitive functions were affected in certain settings.

As part of my program, I was a TA in an intro psych class, and I conducted my research at the hospital connected to the university. That’s where I first met Jessica Brooks. Despite getting a stipend for my teaching assistant work, I had been taking odd jobs to help make ends meet; D.C. wasn't cheap. When I mentioned that I had experience with kids, Jessica had immediately told me that she was needing help caring for her nephew in the wake of her father, Roy's diagnosis. She wanted to keep him at home, which was both admirable and time-consuming.

I wasn’t prepared for the gigantic background check that I was subjected to. I very quickly learned that my potential employer had some power at the FBI. Jessica had raved to him about me, so he agreed to meet with me. When Jessica told me he worked for the FBI, I was expecting a bureaucrat, kind of short, receding hairline, soft from sitting behind a desk all day.

Aaron Hotchner was none of those things. He was a total cliché; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black, his hair was black, and he towered over me. His hand was firm when he shook mine. I initially thought he didn’t like me because of the scowl he wore on his face; now I knew that was just his default expression. I’m pretty sure he invented Resting Bitch Face. I think it was my meeting with Jack that sealed the deal. We had clicked right away. The 7-year-old was impressed by my knowledge of both DC and Marvel comics. I could still remember our first meeting so clearly; when in a move that I now know is so much like his father, he had asked me an interview question of his own.

“What is Spiderman’s middle name?” the boy had asked with a suspicious squint of his eyes.

This kid is poser checking me, I had thought with amusement. “That would depend on which Spiderman you’re referring to. Assuming it’s Peter Parker, his middle name is Benjamin.”

We were best friends after that.

I loved Jack; I really did. And I was paid well enough that he was the only child I babysat for, the rest of my time spent working on my research and plotting my dissertation. It was clear that Aaron Hotchner loved his son, and he felt guilty for not being around more. He was fierce and intimidating any other time, but once he was with his son, his entire face would transform. His smiles came easier, his eyes twinkled, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.

None of that is why he made me nervous, though. What made me so nervous is the fear that one day I was going to spend enough time with him for him to see the feelings I had so stupidly developed for him.

The very next night, I was hiding in the kitchen floor in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment.

“Ready or not, here I come!” the little voice called out before his feet started stomping loudly across the floor.

From my position behind the kitchen counter, I tried very hard to remain silent, despite my amusement. Jack Hotchner was many wonderful, wonderful things. Sneaky was not one of them. Which is why I wasn’t surprised when I heard his little feet hurry towards me, and I didn’t lose my balance when he turned the corner and launched himself at me. “Oomph!” was the only reasonable sound to make when a tiny human slammed into you.

Jack was delighted. “I FOUND YOU!”

My response was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jack was off me in a flash, barreling towards the living room. “Daddy!”

Mr. Hotchner made a similar “oomph” noise when Jack jumped on him, confirming my theory. I rose to my feet quickly, smoothing down my clothes.

“We were playing hide and seek, Daddy!” Jack informed his father. “I found y/n every time! She never found me once!” His chest puffed out with pride, making my face break into a smile.

“You’re just an excellent hider, Jack-attack.”

Mr. Hotchner’s eyes settled on my face then, for just a moment I saw something so sad in those eyes that the breath seized in my lungs.

He cleared his throat, seeming to shake off whatever he was thinking before smiling at his son. “I’m glad you had a good time with, y/n, buddy.”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I helped make dinner!”

“You did?” He questioned in fake astonishment. “When did you make dinner?”

“Tonight!”

Mr. Hotchner looked at me quizzically. “Oh, um, I wasn’t actually supposed to watch Jack tonight…but Jessica called and asked if I could. It was really last minute, and she’d already bought some stuff to make dinner…” I trailed off. “I hope that’s okay. Jesus Christ, y/n. You’re a 26-year-old woman, get it together.

His attention moved from me to his son. "Jack, go get changed into your pj's. It's almost bedtime." When Jack's mouth opened to protest this great injustice, his father went on. "You can tell y/n bye when you're done."

So much for a speedy escape, I thought. Instead, I just smiled at him. "Yep, I'll be right here, little man." Satisfied with this, Jack jumped out of his father's arms and ran towards his room.

“Why did Jessica need you to come over? Did something happen with Roy?” He looked genuinely worried, walking into the kitchen to stand near me.

I reached out and put a hand on his arm without thinking. "Oh, oh god no, nothing like that." Realizing I was touching him, I snatched my hand back like he'd burned me. "Sorry. She…she-um had a date."

His eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “A date?” he asked, disbelief dripping from his words.

I chuckled. “That’s what she told me.”

He walked back into the living room then, leaning back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he focused his dark gaze on me. “What about you?”

“…What about me what?”

“Does Jessica ever have to cover for you when you have dates?”

If Aaron Hotchner hadn’t made me so nervous, I might have picked up on how he phrased that question. As it happens, all I could do was fidget under his gaze. “Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “Ah, no. She doesn’t have to do that. I don’t really date.”

That had one of his eyebrows rising, his arms crossing across his chest. "Why?"

Because I want you to crack my back like a glowstick. “Um…you know, it’s hard to find the time.”

Thankfully Jack chose that moment to come barreling out of his room, charging full force at me. “You’re still here!” he exclaimed.

I smiled down at him when his arms wrapped around my hips. I put one hand on the back of his head, the other on his back, giving him a squeeze. “Of course I am! I couldn’t leave without telling you goodbye.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he mumbled.

My throat worked as a sudden wave of emotion hit me. "Oh, Jack," my voice was thicker than usual when I spoke. "I don't like leaving you either, but you'll see me before you know it. I promise."

Once we had finally pried Jack off me, Mr. Hotchner went to take him to bed. He turned to me when he scooped Jack up in his arms. “Thank you for today.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Hotchner.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Most people call me Hotch. Or you could call me Aaron.”

I didn't know what to say to that; all I could do was give him an awkward smile. I was gone before he came back into the living room. I didn't want to leave, I never did, but I couldn't risk being alone with…Aaron.

The following Thursday night, my phone started ringing just after 11:30. Glancing at it, I saw it was Jessica. “Hey,” I said in greeting.

“Hey, y/n,” she said, sounding frazzled. “I have a huge favor to ask. Dad’s home health nurse had to leave early tonight.” “Is something wrong with Melinda?” I hope not. She’s the sweetest.

“No, I don’t think so. But she needs to go home and there’s no one to sit with Jack. But Aaron isn’t home yet…”

“I’ll be there in 20.”

Which is why I was now in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment after midnight in a pair of shorts that were so short I only ever wore them at home and a t-shirt that I had had for forever. Jessica had sounded so upset when she called, I hadn't even thought to change. She had promised to be back as quick as she could; she said that Mr. Hotchner was flying back from a case, and she didn’t expect him until 5 a.m. at the earliest.

When I first arrived, I had tried to watch TV, my mind too wired to sleep, even though I had class at 9 am in the morning. Sighing, I glanced over at the clock to see it was just after 1:45 in the morning.

“Fuuuuuuck,” I whined out loud. I have to go to sleep; even if it’s just a little nap. I remembered Jessica had left some chamomile tea here for the nights she stayed over to watch Jack. Finding the kettle and the tea itself was no problem; the problem presented itself when I had to get a mug to put the tea in.

I had never considered myself a particularly short person; sure, I had to stretch to get things from time to time, but everybody did that. Looking up into the upper cabinets in the Hotchner house had me reconsidering that. The mugs were on the very top shelf and try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to reach them; my fingers kept grazing over the ceramic.

“Goddamnit,” I mumbled in a huff. What is the point to put mugs way the fuck up there? Some of us are a perfectly normal height…but noooo I have to work for giants. I braced my hands on the countertop as I heaved myself up on to said countertop. Once my knees were in place, I got the offending cup without further problems.

I blame how focused I was on my task for my not hearing the front door open, or the footsteps that followed. Which is why I had a mild heart attack when I heard a voice that sounded highly amused say from behind me, “What are you doing?”

Several things happened all at once, and very quickly. I let out the most embarrassing squeak in all of history, I lost my balance on the counter and the cup fell from my hand. The cup crashed to the floor and shattered. My fate might have been the same but two large hands caught me, gripping my hips from behind. I looked down to see his long fingers wrapping around my waist, gripping me tightly; my difficulty breathing then had nothing to do with how scared I was.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said softly, still not releasing me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, I get it,” I said lightly, attempting to act like I wasn’t going into cardiac arrest because he was touching me. “You’re a very stealthy FBI agent. It was bound to happen.”

He chuckled before his hands pushed my hips so I was twisting around, my legs shifting until I was sitting on the countertop, staring into the same dark eyes I thought about far too often. They weren’t as harsh as they usually were; tonight, they were soft and warm, and they made my pulse race a bit faster.

I moved to get off the counter when the hands that were still on my hips stopped me. “Hang on, let me clean this up first. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Fantastic, I thought, hiding my face in my hands. It seems I was incapable of not making a fool out of myself in front of this man.

He worked quickly while I debated changing my name and fleeing the country; in the next moment, he was standing in front of me again. "What's wrong?"

“Oh, nothing,” I said, not moving my hands. “Just dying of embarrassment.”

Aaron actually laughed at that, moving closer to stand between my thighs, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of my hips. “Why are you embarrassed?”

I dropped my hands then. “Because this is becoming a pattern! First, I fell asleep on your couch, then I almost fell off your counter and cracked my head like an egg.” I bit my lip, shifting under his gaze. “I’m sorry and thank you for catching me.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said softly.

He still had that soft look on his face, but he was smiling too like he was enjoying my embarrassment. He probably is. I had never been this close to him before. I didn’t know his eyes weren’t just one flat color of brown, but that lighter shades of brown whirled throughout. I had never felt the heat of his body before, but now I was so close I could smell him. Why does he have to smell good? I whined internally. If he just stunk, I could get over this.

This was exactly why I tried very hard to stay as far away from him as possible because I lost the ability to think clearly whenever I was with him. I couldn't stop my eyes from moving down to his lips. I was eye level with him from my position on the counter; all I had to do to brush my lips across his was lean forward, so that’s exactly what I did. His body stiffened slightly at the first touch of my lips to his. I pulled back, ready to apologize when his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me back to him. There was nothing soft about this kiss. His free hand gripped my thigh, my hands held on to his shirt, trying to pull him closer. My tongue brushed against his mouth before he sucked on the tip of it, causing me to shudder. He took a step forward as his tongue twirled around mine. I could feel him when he settled against me; he was hard, and I found myself shifting my hips to rub against him.

The shrill ringing of his phone broke us apart suddenly. He was panting, his cheeks were slightly flushed. I thought I heard him let out a “fuck” under his breath as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone.

“Hey Jessica,” he answered.

Now that our moment was broken, I felt very self-conscious. What the fuck did I just do?! He is my boss. He is Jack’s dad. Aaron took a step back and I slid off the counter. This turned out to be a very bad idea on my part; my body brushed down the front of his, causing me to bite my lip to silence the moan that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, I landed a little while ago,” he said as I left the kitchen.

WhatthefuckWhatthefuck. I heard him end the call with Jessica before he quickly walked into the living room. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw me. “I thought you’d try to slip away.”

“I thought about it,” I told him honestly.

“Listen, y/n, about that in the kitchen,” he began.

I held up my hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner. I don’t know why I did that; I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I was giving him an out because I couldn’t handle hearing the rejection I knew was coming. “I just…I guess we got caught up in the moment? And you’re really tired, I’m sure. I’m so sorry.” I was rambling now. “If you don’t want me to watch Jack anymore-“

“Y/n, no,” he interrupted. “No, this…you’re right, it was just a heat of the moment thing. It happens. I’m sorry I lost myself for a moment.” He cleared his throat, his face still set in softness. “Jack loves you. He doesn’t need to suffer for any more of my mistakes.”

Mistakes. The word hollowed me out and left me cold. I just nodded. “Right,” I said in what I hoped was an even tone. “Just a mistake. I should get going. It’s really late.”

Which is how I found myself driving home at almost 3 in the morning with tears running down my cheeks. A mistake.

Things went back to normal after that night. I continued to avoid Aaron Hotchner at all costs and he…did whatever he did. I tried to hide the hurt whenever I did happen to see him, but it was so hard when I could still feel the tingle from his lips on mine.

A few days after the “mistake,” I was babysitting Jack again. He’d went to bed at his normal 8:30 and all was quiet. I decided to do some TA work while I waited for Mr. Hotchner to come home. I was halfway through grading an essay when I heard the first noise come from Jack’s room. Lifting my fingers from the keys of my computer, I waited to see if I heard another sound. I didn’t have to wait long; not even a minute passed before I heard a strained cry. Jumping up, I hurried down the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

Cracking the door open I called, “Jack-attack? Are you okay, little man?” I didn’t see him right away; he had hidden under his covers and curled up into a little ball. “Hey, Jack. It’s just y/n.” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

I saw the lump under the blankets start to move hesitantly before I saw his brown hair peak out of the blanket near his pillow. His eyes were wide and with the light shining in from the hall, I could see tears gleam in them. “Oh, buddy,” I cooed. “Did you have a bad dream?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah…there was a bad man…and my daddy didn’t come save me.”

I felt my breath seize in my chest. Jessica had told me a brief version of what happened to Jack's mother a few years ago. "Jack, you know your dad would always do whatever he had to do to come to save you." I shifted my position on the bed until I was sitting beside him. "He'd never let anything bad happen to you." Jack started inching closer to me. I held out my arms and smiled when he lunged for me; I wrapped him in a tight hug, rubbing circles on his back.

“My dad just isn’t home a lot anymore. He has a lot of work to do,” he mumbled into my shirt.

“Your dad would be home if he could, Jack.” I couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of my voice. It wasn’t fair to either Jack or his dad that he had to be away so much.

“I know,” the little boy whispered. “I just miss him sometimes.”

“Do you want to call him?” I offered. “I don’t think he’d mind.”

Jack just shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He turned his face up to look at me. “Will you stay with me?”

I moved so he lay beside me with my left arm still squeezed around him. “Of course, bud.” I scooted down the bed so I was reclining instead of sitting straight up, pulling the cover-up over him again. "Do you want me to read you another story?"

He just shuffled under his covers, looking at me with the bashful innocence of childhood. “Can you sing to me until I fall asleep?”

I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing in front of people, but how could I turn this little face down? I just nodded. “Do you have any requests?”

“Nope,” he answered with a little grin on his face.

Unfortunately, at that moment every single lullaby I had ever know left my head. I couldn’t think of a single traditional lullaby. So, I decided to improvise. I started singing slower songs I knew, some of them might not have been appropriate for a 7-year-old’s lullaby, but I don’t think Jack cared that much.

He was almost out, drifting on the edge between deep sleep and awake. My arm was still around his shoulder, he was still snuggled to my side. I decided one more song would be enough, which meant I pulled out my second Beatles song of the night.

“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?

You know I love you still.

Will I wait a lonely lifetime?

If you want me to, I will.

For if I ever saw-“

I glanced up, immediately sensing there was someone else in the room. To my horror, Jack’s father was standing in the doorway, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed nervously, then I turned to press a kiss against Jack’s soft forehead before I gently detangled myself from him. I straightened my clothes that to my further embarrassment had shifted around because I was laying with a wiggly child, then, attempting to keep my face impassive, I walked to the door, moving around his father as I exited.

Mr. Hotchner walked into the room and checked on his son, while I moved into the living room to gather my things. I wonder if he just left the money by the door, I mused. If he did, I could just make a dash for the door. I mean, if he didn’t, he could always just pay me next time. Sadly, my plans were escape were foiled yet again by the man in question entering the room.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I know he was up past his bedtime. I put him down at 8, but he had a nightmare." I was babbling, not meeting his eyes, my gaze very intently focused on my bag. "He asked me to stay with him until he fell asleep…" I finally looked up, shrugged, and said, "He's very hard to say no to."

“You don’t have to apologize for being nice to my son, y/n,” he said softly. “That’s one of my favorite songs on the White Album, you know.”

I hadn’t known that. “Mr. Hotch-“

He took a step towards me before I finished speaking. “Y/n, please, I can barely handle this as it is. Please call me Aaron.”

I just blinked up at him. “So, ‘Hotch’ is off the table now?”

That had a soft smile curving his lips upward. "That was a limited-time deal. You should have been quicker." I saw his hand rise up slowly, so slowly that I would have had time to move away…but I just couldn’t. He brushed my hair back from my face, his eyes were two pools of black in the dim light, they were swirling with something that made my stomach flutter.

“Aaron,” I breathed, having no idea what I was going to say.

He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes upwards. When he brought them back down to mine, his hand slid from its place near my ear to cradle the back of my head. His eyes searched mine for a moment before his shoulders dropped slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered before he leaned down and sealed his lips over mine.

I might have thought this kiss would be questioning or unsure, but there was nothing unsure about it. Aaron kissed me like he was starving for me. His teeth caught my bottom lip and tugged as he pulled away. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he breathed before bringing his lips more firmly against mine.

My hands began to move over his body; one of my hands grabbed his tie and used it to pull him closer to me, the other reached up to brush against the short, soft hair on the back of his neck. “It wasn’t?” I questioned when we broke away for air.

Aaron’s lips moved across my cheek, leaving soft kisses until he reached my ear. “No, sweet girl, it wasn’t.” His mouth moved down to my neck; his kisses turning into bites that were sure to become brushes. I didn’t care, I needed him. My hands moved to his shirt, quickly trying to undo all the buttons.

His hands moved down to the waist of my jeans, deftly flicking the button open before sliding the zipper down. “Is this what you want?” he asked as his hand touched my lower stomach, his fingers brushing over the elastic band of my panties.

“Yes,” I said, still working to free him from his shirt. “I want this so much.”

The fingers of his free hand rose up to tap my chin, forcing my eyes up until I met his gaze. "I want to hear you say my name again." His other hand lifted from my stomach to slide over the flair of my hip until he was gripping my ass. "Whenever I laid in bed that night after I had you pressed against me in my kitchen when I stroked my cock, I thought about you moaning my name.” The hand that was on my chin pulled away, skimming down my body until he was grabbing the other side of my ass. “So, say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, Aaron.” So, so much.

His hands moved to the backs of my thighs, then he lifted me up his body, startling me. Jesus Christ, how strong is this guy? I threw my arms around his neck as he started walking us down towards his bedroom. A giggle escaped my lips. “I could have walked, you know.”

We had already entered his room; he tossed me gently on the bed before he turned to close and lock the door. He walked to stand at the side of his bed, his eyes devouring me. “I couldn’t give you a chance to sneak away again, sweet girl.” Aaron pulled off his tie before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shedding it on the floor.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s hot. I pulled my own shirt over my head, and his body was on top of me before it even left my hands. Aaron's mouth moved down to my collarbones, his hand slipped behind my back to unhook my bra. Once the straps were down my arms, Aaron lifted himself up on his arms to toss it away, his eyes running over my body. "You're so beautiful," he said softly like it wasn't the sweetest compliment I'd ever been paid. He leaned over again, his lips skimming down to my chest before he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.

“Fuck, Aaron,” I moaned.

He gave my nipple a flick with his tongue before he lifted his head. “Ssh, sweet girl. You have to be quiet. Can you do that?” He kissed his way over to my other breast. “I can’t do this if you won’t be quiet.”

“I can be quiet,” I whispered right before I bit my lip to smother my moan at the feeling of his mouth on me. “Maybe.”

His breath puffed against my skin when he laughed at me. My hands threaded through his hair when he brought his face back up to mine. My mouth opened eagerly for him, my tongue slicking over his while I tried to grind my body against him. Aaron was smiling when he broke the kiss, shifting up onto his knees. “Well, I appreciate you trying to be quiet at any rate,” he teased.

My response died in my throat when his fingers yanked my jeans off my legs, bringing my panties with them. I was totally bare in front of him. His eyes raked down my body in a way that would make me self-conscious with anyone else. How could I ever be self-conscious with a man who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world?

But when he started to kiss further down my body, I grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him back up to kiss me. “Aaron,” I whispered.

He pressed a soft kiss to my collarbone. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“You don’t…you don’t have to do…that,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up.

Aaron braced himself on his arms and stared down at me. Enlightenment dawned on his face a second later. He leaned down to kiss me softly. “Do you not want me to?”

I bit my lip, feeling more flustered. “It’s just…I’ve never…and I know that guys don’t really like-.“ My words were cut off when he placed another kiss to my lips, still incredibly soft, but with more force than before.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't," he said quietly. "But I can assure you, I can't think of anything more I'd rather do than lick your pussy until you cum all over my face." He skimmed his lips over my cheek to my ear. "And once you've come down, I want to slide my cock inside you and feel how soft and wet you are." His kisses moved down to my neck, his mouth sucking on my pulse point. "Then I want to fuck you until you're whimpering against my lips to make you cum again.”

I felt my core throb at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. He lifted his gaze when he got back to my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. “Is that what you want too, sweet girl?”

I have never wanted anything more, I thought; but I was so far gone that all I could do was nod.

He gave me a soft smile, moving down the bed further to settle between my thighs, pulling them further apart. I felt a kiss pressed to one thigh, then the other. His hot breath washed over the part of me that was already so wet for him. “You’re beautiful here too,” he murmured before he pressed a kiss to my clit. I lifted my hips at the sensation, causing him to chuckle and move his hands to wrap around my thighs, his arms anchoring me in place. A second later I understood why he braced my hips. The second he flattened his tongue and licked the length of my pussy, my hips started moving involuntarily and my fingers tangled in his hair.

I felt a puff of air against me when he laughed again, and it made me smile. I didn’t expect Aaron Hotchner to be fun…or dirty in bed. All thought immediately left my head when he parted me with his tongue, dipping into my entrance before spearing his tongue into me. I felt the vibration when he moaned against me. "You taste so fucking good, y/n," he said, his voice still hushed. Giving my entrance one last lick, he moved up to my clit.

He spent time moving his tongue around me, learning what made me squirm. When he started fluttering his tongue quickly over my clit my hands started tugging on his hair and my thighs tried to snap together.

“Aaron,” I whined, attempting to rock my hips against his mouth.

I think he understood what I needed better than I did. His left hand released my thigh and moved down to my heat, just below his mouth. I felt his fingers brush over me before he pushed on inside me, causing my back to arch off the bed. “Aaron, Aaron, fuck.” He added a second finger, pumping them in a rhythm that complimented the movements of his mouth.

I wasn't prepared for when his lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, while his fingers started to curl inside of me. “Oh my God," I moaned out, louder than I should have. "Aaron, I'm going to cum." I started pulling on his hair so hard it must have hurt, but he just moaned against me, never slowing his pace. "Aaron, fuck, please. I think…I-I-“

My words broke off as the band inside of me snapped, my pussy clamping down on his fingers and my back arching off of the bed, my mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

Aaron slowed his motions, slowly bringing me through the orgasm and back down to Earth. With one final kiss to my thigh, he rose and moved up my body until his face was hovering over mine. His lips were shiny with my arousal, they also looked a little swollen, but more importantly, they were smirking at me.

I’ll give him that one. Reaching up I cradled his jaw in my hands, bringing his mouth down to mine. I tasted myself on his lips and tongue when he licked into my mouth. Despite the powerful orgasm he had just given me, I was still desperate for him. I broke away from his mouth. “Aaron, I need you.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips before he lifted up and stood at the side of the bed, undoing the buckle of his belt. My eyes were fixed on his movements, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and slid them down his legs. His cock was a thick pipe outlined in his underwear. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband before he spoke again. "I'll give you everything you need, greedy girl." Aaron pushed his underwear down, his cock springing free before he climbed back on the bed.

He was so much thicker than I expected he would be. I moved my hand down to wrap my fingers around him, pumping his length. He let out a groan and lowered his forehead to mine. “Baby,” he muttered. “I…fuck. I have to get a condom.”

“Aaron,” I whined. “I want to feel you inside me. I’m on birth control. Please?” The thought of anything separating me from this man was abhorrent to me in that moment.

I saw his willpower crumble. “Are you sure?”

So sure. “Please,” I begged lifting my head to kiss him. “I want you to fuck me.”

With a groan that I will remember for the rest of my life, he shifted his hips forwarded, allowing my hands to guide him to my entrance. Aaron kissed me then, slowly and deeply has he started to push inside me. My hand flew away from his cock, both my arms wrapping around his body to pull him closer to me. I felt my nails digging into his back.

Aaron broke our kiss with another soft moan that sounded like my name. “I knew you’d feel like this,” he whispered, pressing deeper inside me. “I knew your pussy would be this fucking tight, this fucking hot, and so fucking soft." He started moving in and out of my pussy, going in a little further each time. “You still have to be quiet, sweet girl.”

“I’m trying,” I moaned, my pussy already starting to flutter around him when he finally pushed all the way inside of me. “Aaron, fucking Christ.” I felt him everywhere, and I somehow still craved more.

He grabbed my thigh, pulling if further up his side, allowing himself to sink deeper inside of me. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” He started a slow pace, pulling almost all the way out of me before slamming back inside me.

My head was thrashing against the pillows, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. “Aaron, I need you to fuck me harder. Please.”

He groaned at my words, placing a sloppy kiss to my mouth before pulling back. He pulled one of my legs up until it was over his shoulder, the other still wrapped around his waist, and then he started to move faster inside of me.

I braced one hand against the headboard as he pounded into me. “Oh my god, Aaron,” my voice was a low whimper as I looked down to see his cock sliding in and out of me. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, I want you to reach down and rub your clit for me while I fuck your tight little pussy.” His pace started to speed up as he spoke. “Can you do that for me?” He groaned when I complied, the stimulation to my clit causing my pussy to flutter around him. “Good girl.”

My fingers began to work frantically. “Don’t stop, Aaron. Don’t stop,” I begged. “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweet girl, I can feel you. Your pussy feels so good squeezing around my cock. You’re going to make me cum.” His thrusts were starting to get choppier, one of his hands braced on the top of the headboard while the other held my leg on his shoulder. “Do you want me to cum inside your pretty pussy, sweet girl?” He groaned loudly when my walls clenched around him. “It feels like you like the idea of that, don’t you baby?”

My fingers continued their pace, my head thrashing, my body trembling. “Yes. Fuck, Aaron. Please cum inside of me. Please.”

Aaron felt it first and acted quickly; his hand moved from my leg to cover my mouth. “That’s it, cum for me, baby.”

I thought my orgasm earlier tonight was powerful. It was nothing compared to how I felt when I came around his cock, only to feel him find his own release a moment after.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, y/n,” he breathed, giving a last few jerks inside of my body, pushing against the fluttering aftershocks of my orgasm. He rolled off me, careful not to drop all of his weight on top of me. To my relief, he quickly gathered me in his arm, pulling me against his body, pressing a soft kiss to my sweaty forehead.

My ear was pressed against his chest, allowing me to hear his heartbeat slowdown from its frantic pace and his breathing even out. I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his chest while his hand continued to stroke my back.

“That…that was amazing,” I said, looking up at him. “If I knew you had that in you, I wouldn’t have run out of the room every time I was alone with you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. “Well, at least you’ll know for next time.”

My thoughts sobered at his words. Next time

“Hey,” he said, his hand cupping the side of my face. “No, don’t go away. I just got you.” He kissed my forehead again, then the tip of my nose, then both of my eyelids, before he tilted my face up further so he could press a kiss to my lips. “We’ll figure this out. We have to. I care too much about you to let you go.”

“I care about you too,” I replied, snuggling against his chest, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

I was almost asleep when I heard his voice rumble again. “Will you sing Beatles songs to me when I can’t sleep too?” His voice was sleepy and teasing.

I smiled into the darkness, not bothering to open my eyes. “If you want me to, I will.”

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