#matt wanted to take a picture of the car and then noticed them and sobbed a little (nicky too he ripped the camera out of matt's hands)

[strniohoeee]

could u make one where matt gets mad at u and hide from him, and he finds u and apologises. thnx it mean a lot to me.

Frantic

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N hates that Matt likes other girls posts, and when she brings it up they get into a fight. Causing her to hide from him🫂

Warnings⚠️: Nothing really, Matt is kinda a douche in this but ehhhh

Song for the imagine: Insecure- Brent Faiyaz

I’ve got scars from a life before you

Please don’t think I’m insecure

I just can’t trust no one else

I think the biggest thing that made me mad about Matt was that he didn’t understand why I didn’t want him liking other girls' posts. He always told me that he loved me, and that it didn’t matter who’s pictures he liked.

But I hated it, especially if the girls looked nothing like me. It made me upset, and sad. I would never like another man’s post, so I wasn’t sure why Matt didn’t understand where I was coming from

I tried my best to ignore it, but when fans started noticing it too, and bringing it up it opened up those scars again.

Matt and I were driving back to his house when I decided to bring it up.

“Your fans are starting to notice your inconsiderate behavior” I told him

“Me liking another influencer's post?” Matt said scoffing

“Yeah….its disrespectful” I told him

“How? It’s not like I’m pursuing the girl. You’re literally my girlfriend” he said looking at me

“I wouldn’t like another guys post, not an attractive one” I said to him

“You sound so insecure” he said shaking his head

“I fucking sound insecure? I’m asking you not to like other girls posts of them half naked…THAT IS ALL” I said to him getting angry

“Who GIVES A FUCK IF I LIKE THEIR POST IT MEANS NOTHING” he yelled at me

“IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME BECAUSE I WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO YOU” I yelled back at him

“You’re so pathetic, honestly I should break up with you. Clearly you’re too insecure to be with me” he said as we pulled up to the triplets house and he put the car in park

“Fuck you Matt. YOURE A PIECE OF SHIT” I yelled at him

“YEAH GO FUCKING CRY ABOUT IT” he yelled

I jumped out the car, slamming the door and running into the house. I ran to Nicks room and hid under his covers, and started to sob.

How could he be such a dick to me? I just wanted him to stop liking other girls' posts, and I’m insecure and pathetic.

I heard matt calling out for me, so I got out of Nick's bed and went into the closet that was inside his bathroom, sitting down on the floor and crying

I think a good 15 minutes went by before the closet door opened

“Baby?” I heard Matt say, and I lifted up my head to meet his gaze

“Go away” I told him

“No” he said sitting down in front of me

“Go. Away. Now.” I said ignoring him

“I’m not leaving you. Listen to me what I said was fucked up and disgusting. You have every right to be upset with me, and I had no right to call you insecure or pathetic” he said stroking my arm

“Whatever” I said rolling my eyes at him

“It’s not whatever. You would never like a guy's post, and I should never ever like another woman’s post. It’s wrong and it looks bad” he said

“Matt….please just don’t” I said

“I was wrong okay, i was so fucking wrong. And I’m not breaking up with you because you’ve done nothing wrong. I love you so fucking much, and I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you I SWEAR, so please baby take me back” he said rubbing my cheek

“Mmm let me think on it” I said sarcastically

“I’ll rub your back, and buy you whatever you want for a month” he said raising his brows at me

“Mmmm sounds enticing” I said

“I’ll do all your chores for a month” he said

“You sir have got yourself a deal” I said sticking my hand out to shake his hand

“There’s my beautiful girl” he said shaking my hand

Matt helped me clean my tear stained face, and then showered me with kisses all over my face, and wouldn’t shut up about how much he loved me.

Communication is key.

The End

I hope that this one was good as well🫶🏽🖤, and for the person that requested this I hope you enjoyed it 💋💋

-J💅🏽

A/N: Writing, makeup and filming are my favorite things to do🦋

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

[hannahsmusings]

Jackson

*Matt didn’t even notice you looking down at your phone, turning back to his process of shoving your things into the bags and dropping them by the door, breathing heavily as he moved* I don’t need your apologies. I hope that rich guy gives you the life you always wanted, the one I couldn’t give to you, apparently. Hopefully you won’t throw him aside like you did to me. *he was completely convinced that you were sleeping with Jackson, if not sleeping with then in love with, he knew you were leaving him for Jackson one way or the other and that was a hard pill to swallow especially considering he was right the entire time and you told him he had nothing to worry about, that was fucking laughable now to him* *his head whips around again when he hears you open the door, a sense of dread coming over him since he knew this was the end, the bitter fucking end, he knew you’d never step foot in this house again as his girlfriend, he was single for the first time in six years and that terrified him, but he’d never voice that, not to you, not to the person he thought he could trust more than anyone in the world* *he walks over to the door when you open it, glancing outside, expecting to see an Uber there but he just lets out a dry laugh as he sees the same guy that dropped you off, Jackson’s driver, assuming the billionaire was inside, hiding* *he looks at you, nothing but vile and venom in his eyes, his voice low as he speaks* Don’t you dare send Ford or one of his lackeys here tomorrow, do you understand me? I swear, Hannah. I don’t want anyone who works for him stepping into my home. It’s already been tainted enough. -Matt

*Martin sees the way Matt is looking at you from the doorway and kicks into gear, quickly walking up the pathway to your front door* Hannah, let me help you. *he glares at Matt, hoping that his presence will make the man back off you, able to see the distress and fear in your eyes and he wasn’t afraid to punch this guy right in the face if need be, knowing Jackson would probably give him a raise if he did so to protect you* *he takes the bags that Matt had left by the door, purposefully blocking Matt’s path to you if he wanted to take one, giving you a clear path to get to the car* -Martin

*Matt just glowers at Martin, hating that you had called one of Jackson’s workers, you were too good for an Uber now apparently, you were too filthy rich from all the money your boss was giving you apparently* This feels like a really bad fucking joke. I’ll make sure the rest of your shit is packed tomorrow. *he stands by the door, waiting to close it, refusing to look you in the eyes, not even wanting to say goodbye, it being too final, this whole thing feeling like a bad dream that he desperately needed to wake up from* -Matt

___________________________________

*cringes at Matt’s laugh when he sees Martin and the car, having never anticipated he would become this nasty and hurtful, figuring he’d be upset but not like this, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck with how hurt and drained I felt, this relationship feeling like it had gone up in flames* *shrinks as you raise your voice again, it feeling like a slap when you so quickly call this your home, like I hadn’t spent the 3 years leaving here with you, feeling totally cast aside* *tears welling in my eyes as I look to Martin, feeling relieved he’d come so quickly but also truly embarrassed at having to ask for help, feeling so much shame as he picks up my bags, glancing in them as Matt hadn’t even bothered to zip them up and fighting the urge to sob when I see it was just random items of mine he’d thrown in, pictures of us, mugs that had smashed now, a coat and some shoes, him clearly having picked up random items he’d seen and just thrown them into bags, hating that I felt I was being kicked out* *turns around with my overnight bag in my hand, about to say goodbye before you were beating me to it by saying you’d pack the rest of my things, wanting to fight you on it but I didn’t have the energy, just shaking my head and walking down the steps to the car, not wanting to say anything further to you as my tears stream quietly*

#hannah plot

[iiheartmouse]

Las Vegas Creep

So I am currently in Las Vegas with my older cousin Renee. She is 23 and is staying in a hotel room with her boyfriend Victor. Meaning that I, have a hotel room to myself. As a person who grew up sleeping in the same hotel bed with my dad for the first 13 years of my life, it was hella exciting. But not anymore. 2 nights ago, around, 10:30 pm, my dumb ass decided that it was a good time to go to the lobby and tell the front desk lady that I got a text from Renee saying she lost the card to her room and sent me down to get a new one. The only reason I did this was because growing up in an Igbo Nigerian house nobody could do "tHe DeViL'S tAnGo" until they were 30 years old and married. Those were my house hold rules at least. So, I wanted to get that bish in TROUBLE because she wouldn't give me any of her fudge rounds. (DON'T MESS WITH A BISH WHO NEEDS HER DAMN FUDGE ROUNDS). And I was going to take a picture and send it to my auntie and get her an ass whooping. I go to the elevator and, I was standing there waiting for it to take me to the lobby, when a tall old white man, steps inside. I didn't have that much of a problem with because he looked so old that he would die of a heart attack if the elevator even moved an inch. But, here's where it gets weird. I noticed him staring at me a few times when I glance at him. Then he asked me my age and name. I lied and went by my middle name "Julie" and I said I was 12. I look very young for a 15 year old. I also wanted to see what he would say. He then asked if I want a piece of chocolate. And I knew that dude was probably going to merk me. I say sure, and then ask him he's name. he says his name is Sam and he's 89. WHEN I TELL, I have never said "Never mind" to chocolate SO FAST IN MY LIFE. HE LOOKED PISSED, AND HE PRESSED ME AGAINST THE WALL OF THE ELEVATOR. I screamed as loud as I could, which is not loudly because I have a naturally raspy voice. It was only 30 seconds before the doors opened and I ran to the front desk lady, and the man ran out. She asked me what was wrong, and I was just sobbing uncontrollably. She walked me to my hotel room and told me if I needed anything, that she would be in the hallway with a security guard. This random lady told another girl to take her spot and she waited outside of my room. She even brought me candies and treats and made sure I felt safe. The next morning Renee and Victor asked me if I slept okay, and I told them everything. They told me we could go back to California if I wanted, but one creepy old ass man was NOT going to ruin my VaCaTiOn. We packed up and we moved to a different hotel. But before we did, I found out the lady at the front desk who stayed outside my room, was named Trinity, and she was 19. I got her number and now we are best friends. Okay, not the point though. When we were all driving off, I swear I saw a car following us, we stopped for gas, and the car did as well. When we went inside the mini market that was near by, the same man from the hotel, followed us inside. When Victor sensed something was wrong, he deadass gave the man the scariest death-stare. Victor is like the brother I've never had (sorry Matt but you got me grounded twice). Okay, thanks for reading.

[frisslimbim]

part 3/?

#frissl's foxhole court photo wall project #frissl's doodles #soft andreil #matt wanted to take a picture of the car and then noticed them and sobbed a little (nicky too he ripped the camera out of matt's hands) #(and took the photo) #they are probably dead rn so rip to them i guess #andrew minyard #andrew minyard fanart #neil josten #neil josten fanart #andreil #andriel #andreil fanart #andrew x neil #neil x andrew #aftg #aftg fanart #all for the game #all for the game fanart #the foxhole court #the foxhole court fanart #tfc #tfc fanart

[mysweetestcreature]

Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies

Words: 24.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death...smut?

Summary: Why can’t two people who are meant for each other get it right?

***

They’re fighting again. All Y/n can do is shut her eyes in the hopes that when she opens them, everything will be okay. But no amount of wishing can drown out the noise. 

“I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine! It’s not. You know it isn’t, Matt,” she hears her mother erupt between sobs. Lately, it’s been the same angry words shouted at one another over and over again. Y/n takes her baby sister, Ava, in her eight-year-old arms. She hugs the baby close. If she can’t block the screaming out, at least she can protect her sister from it.

“Grace, please.” It’s her dad’s voice. She’s never heard him sound so desperate. “What about our family? The girls need you. I need you! You can’t just walk away from us.” 

There’s a sudden silence that follows. At first, Y/n thinks that maybe her parents have reached a resolution. Her dad has always been good at negotiating. It is his job, after all. She’s seen him in action whenever he brings her to work with him. Maybe he’s managed to work that same magic on her mum. She gently lays Ava down on the bed, creating a makeshift barrier of pillows on either side of her, before exiting the room and running down the stairs. 

Before she can reach the bottom, she’s forced to a halt when she sees her daddy slouched over on the last step. His head is buried in his hands, his shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. That’s a sight she’s never seen before. He’d always been the picture of bravery and strength, but now that’s been washed away and replaced with someone who looks broken beyond repair. She doesn’t recognize him.

Where is her mum? She slips past her dad, despite wanting to throw herself in his arms for comfort. Besides his sniffling, the house is quiet. There’s no trace of her mum. It scares her.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asks meekly, turning to her father.

He doesn’t respond, but instead, he brings his hands out of his hair, and stares painfully at the door. Without thinking, she throws it open, the sun’s light momentarily blinding her for a few unhinged seconds. It’s only the screeching of wheels on road that brings her back.

“Mummy!” she cries, running as fast as her short legs can take her. Her eyes begin to swell with tears. The black taxi is still, and she’s just able to stare at her mum through its window. “Mummy, where are you going?” she pleads as she bangs on the door, but her mother doesn’t even flinch. Why won’t she look at me? 

The engine starts up, and the car begins to drive away. Y/n chases after it, crying out for her mum to come back. “Don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” It picks up speed after it turns the corner. She feels herself slowing down, but even then, she refuses to stop. The distance between herself and the car becomes too massive.  

“Mummy, come back!” 

Arms envelop around her, and now she’s running on air. “Let her go,” her dad tells her, and she can feel his own tears against her neck. Her feet stop kicking, it’s like the energy has completely drained from her body. Her mind, however, is still racing. 

***

A few days later, her daddy packs both hers and Ava’s bags, and loads them all into his car. She doesn’t ask questions, and instead busies herself with the fleeting landscape. A part of her had expected all that’s happened to be a part of some elaborate nightmare. But each morning, she wakes up to her parents’ bed left untouched, and her dad asleep on the living room couch. Ava is asleep beside her, and Y/n can’t help but think how lucky her little sister is to be living in ignorance. At three months old, she’s only just learned to hold her head up. Barely. Y/n doesn’t remember anything from that age, and maybe that’s a good thing. Had her parents always been this hostile towards one another? Had her mother done this before? What if she had? Does that mean she’ll eventually come back?

“We’re going to be staying with your grandparents for a while,” she’s taken out of her thoughts when her dad finally speaks up.

“Why?” She catches his eyes in the rearview mirror. They only ever go up to Nan and Gramps’ house during the holidays.

His fingers thump against the steering wheel, and he breathes in deeply as though to say something. It takes a moment before he answers her. “I just...I can’t do this alone.” His voice breaks, even though he tries to pass it off with a cough. “It’ll be good for us,” he says again. “You’ll see.”

When they hit a red light, he turns to look at her. He smiles weakly. No matter how much she wants to believe him, she still yearns for her mummy. It’s become especially hard in the mornings when her hair is knotted from tossing and turning in her sleep, and her dad can’t manage to tame it for the life of him. Her mum would often braid her hair, and like magic, it would remain intact all day. She always loved how gentle and soothing her mum would be as she brushed each strand with such care. That’s not to say that her dad isn’t trying, of course, but it’s just not the same.

***

Her grandparents live in a little town called Holmes Chapel. It’s pretty, she supposes. The buildings are a lot older, and the streets aren’t as busy as they are back home. She sits back and takes a deep breath. Her tummy flips a little when she thinks about how she might never see her old friends again, or her room, or even Mrs. Watson who lives next door (she would babysit Y/n and Ava whenever her mum had to run some errands). 

When she looks out the window again, she sees Nan and Gramps stood on their front porch, smiles reaching their eyes. 

“Where are my babies!” Nan exclaims, her arms stretched out. Her dad says a quick hello before opening up the back door. Y/n hops out, and her legs feel a bit unsteady from having been cramped in the car for all those hours. 

“Hi, Nana,” she greets sadly. Nan’s smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t seem to let it deter her.

The elderly woman bends down to her height and gathers her in her arms. Over Nan’s shoulder, Y/n watches as her dad whispers something in Gramps’ ear. Although she can’t hear it, she can tell by Gramps’ reaction that it can’t have been good. “A bit peaky?” Nan asks, when she finally pulls away. She cups Y/n’s cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I just took the cookies out of the oven, actually. Let’s go check on them before your grandfather gobbles them up.” 

Gramps groans behind them. “It was one time!” 

Nan waves him off, guiding her through the front door with an encouraging push. “Oh, you won’t believe all the colors I bought for you at the crafts store yesterday! I know how much you love to draw,” she says. Her voice drowns out when she hears something fall outside. “Arthur Y/l/n! If you break another one of my pots, I swear to–” It leaves Y/n to wander through the hall on her own. Her grandparents’ house is quaint and orderly and smells vaguely of warm vanilla (probably from the cookies) and jasmine. The walls are covered in framed photographs of her daddy and his older brother through the years, a few of a much younger Nan and Gramps, and finally of Y/n, Ava and all of her cousins. (They live in Nice––her Uncle Brandon married a French woman named Dominique––and only ever seem to come around for Nan and Gramps’ anniversary.) Finally, below her uncle and aunt’s wedding photo, is her parents’. She tries not to stare at it too long.

***

Y/n decides that maybe spending time with her grandparents won’t be so bad. After all, her and Ava don’t have to share a room anymore, which means that she won’t be woken up by her little sister’s 3 am wailing fits. Nan’s done an impressive job decorating on such short notice, too. The walls are still plain white, but at least there are some pretty stickers of butterflies and flowers and a few of Y/n’s favorite cartoon characters. Even the windows are nicely covered with those gel ornaments that she loves to poke. 

It’s all very nice, but she still wonders about when she’ll be able to sleep in her own bed, in her own house, under her own sheets.

“When are we going home?” she asks her dad as he tucks her in for the night. His hands stop in the middle of smoothening out her blanket, his eyes remaining glued to one of its printed ballerinas. 

“To be honest with you, love,” he sighs, “I don’t know if we’ll ever go back...at least not anytime soon.” 

“Oh.” That’s not the answer she wanted to hear. What if her mum does decide to come back? It’s still possible, right? After all, her mummy had always told her how much she loved her. She would scoop Y/n into her arms and twirl her around the room as they both laughed their hearts out. When she was sick, she’d always have her favorite tomato soup and grilled cheese. Every day after school, she’d sit down with her and help her do her homework and then give her an extra cookie if she didn’t complain. 

Then another thought pops into her head. Her mum hadn’t been able to do any of that stuff recently. It had been like living with someone who looked exactly like her mum, but without all the warmth and tenderness that once was. Y/n turns away from her dad and starts to sob silently into her pillow. 

Maybe she isn’t coming back, after all.

The dip in the bed from where her daddy had been finally reinflates. He’s about to wrap his hand around the door before she stops him. She calls out his name, sitting up with her arms around her knees. 

“We’ll be happier here?” 

His shoulders visibly relax, and for the first time in what feels like so long, he offers a sincere smile and nods affirmatively. She hadn’t realized how much she missed his smile until now. There’s something about it that she can’t quite describe, but she feels the safest she’s felt in a while.

***

Her daddy had left for the airport some hours ago. Gramps had offered to bring her along for the ride the night before, but she decided that she would rather not watch him leave. Instead, she pretended to be asleep when he came into her room and kissed her on the forehead. She knows he’ll be back in a few days, but it’s always tough when he has to go. It’s one of the other reasons they needed to move in with her grandparents, her dad has to travel a lot for work.  

As soon as he and Gramps had loaded the car and driven away, she had stepped outside and sat down on the grass. That had been before the sun had totally risen. Now, it’s up high and shining its rays on top of her head. Nan, who had been surprised to see her granddaughter sitting out on the lawn so early in the morning, had asked her if she wanted breakfast, but was told she wasn’t hungry. 

They’ve only been living here for a little over a week. She thought that they would’ve had more time to adjust before her dad had to fly off to wherever it is they’ve sent him. So far, things have been fine...or at least they’ve been as best as they can be. She tries not to think about her mum too much (she’s down to only once or twice a day). It’s a good thing that Nan and Gramps have a million ways to keep her busy.

Today is different, however. She’d had her daddy with her when she felt homesick. Now, she feels alone. 

“Hi,” her head snaps up, and there’s a boy, maybe around her age, standing above her. He has messy brown hair that curls at the ends, his pleasant smile is complete with dimples on either cheek. It’s his eyes, however, that hold her attention. They’re like spearmint, if spearmint is even considered a color. Or maybe they’re the same shade as the stems of her Nan’s petunias. She can’t quite describe it, but she can tell that she likes them. 

“Hi.” 

The boy takes her response as an invitation to sit down beside her. “I’m Harry. Do you want a Freddo?” He pulls out a chocolate frog from his pocket. “My sister always eats chocolate when she’s upset, and she’s a girl, and you’re a girl, and you looked kind of sad, so...” He gives her a lopsided grin.

“I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers,” she says. 

He––Harry––rolls his eyes. “I just told you, my name’s Harry.” He shifts a bit, then points to the house on the left of hers. “That’s my house there.”

“What if I don’t want to believe you?” she challenges, but she’s failing miserably not to grin at how utterly exasperated he’s getting.

With a defeated sigh, Harry shouts towards the house. “Oi, Gem!” It takes only a few seconds for a head to peak out of an upstairs window. 

An older girl, maybe around thirteen looks like she could throttle him. “I’m on the phone, Harry! Bugger off or I swear I’ll––oh, no, no! Not you, Blake.” She disappears back into her room. 

Y/n can’t help but giggle, and Harry turns to her, a triumphant look on his face. “See. Told you.” 

Once again, he offers her the Freddo, but this time, she happily accepts it. They sit in a comfortable silence as she nibbles on the chocolate. 

“I’m Y/n,” she finally tells him. 

Harry studies her carefully. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n your grandparents? Because I’ve been over there loads of times––she babysits me when my mum and Gem are busy––but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

She nods. “Me, my sister and my dad moved in last week.”

“And your mum?” he tilts his head.

Her teeth bite down on the inside of her cheek. She looks at him wearily before staring down into her lap. “It’s just us.”

“Oh,” is all he replies. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “My parents are separated too. My dad lives in the city, but I still see him most weekends.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see my mum again,” she frowns.

What he does next startles her, but she’s more surprised at how quickly she relaxes. He wraps an arm around her and brings her closer so she can lean on her shoulder. “Mum says hugs help a lot,” he says sheepishly, she can feel his eyes on her. She nods against him, and it encourages him to continue. “I’m sorry you can’t see your mum, but hey, you can always talk to me! I’ll be your friend.”

It’s her turn to look up. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Y/n decides that she really likes living with her grandparents. Her and Harry are practically inseparable, spending the better part of the day together (and sometimes during the night when they have sleepovers). This means that she hasn’t cried in a long time, and she’s heard her daddy tell her grandparents that things are finally starting to look up. Her daddy looks better than he has been in ages, he doesn’t have that faraway look in his eyes anymore. 

Harry usually comes over after breakfast, or even earlier when he knows Nan will be making French toast just the way he likes it. They play the entire day, a variety of games that range from hopscotch to pretend, to sneaking into Gemma’s room to dig into her stash of sugary treats because the girl has enough Freddo frogs to last her until next Christmas. He even likes to draw with her, even though she knows he rather be outside running around. 

Sometimes Gramps will drive them into town, and they’ll go to the park or the ice cream parlor or their favorite Chinese restaurant. (She learns that she prefers shrimp over pork fried rice). There’s also a bakery that she thinks is the cutest place she’s ever seen. They serve all sorts of pastries and desserts that the owner, Martha, gives them for free when the rest of the customers aren’t looking. Y/n thinks that’s all to do with Harry. She’s eight, and she can already see how charming her best friend is. She’s glad that she has him by her side. He’s made her time here better than she could have ever imagined.

But soon enough, September comes along, and with it, school. Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. While she and Harry will be attending the same school, he’s a year older, which means she might not see him nearly as much as she’d like. 

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see,” he tells her as they walk to school. “And we have breaktime, too. I can introduce you to all my friends, and you can introduce me to all of your new ones!” He sounds far too excited. 

Y/n pulls on his sleeve, and he clumsily stumbles back a bit. “But Harry,” she whines, digging the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk. “What if I don’t make any friends?” 

“You?” he gasps. “You’re like the most awesome person I know! Just be yourself.”

She doesn’t say a word, instead, she drops her head to look anxiously 

“Come on.” He takes her hand in his. “I’ll be at the end of the hall if you need me.” And they walk the rest of the way hand in hand. 

***

Harry drops her off at her classroom before going to find his. He promised he’d walk down with her for lunch, so at least she has that much to look forward to. When he disappears down the hall, she finally lets herself turn around to examine the place she’ll be spending the rest of the year in. 

The desks are all perfectly aligned, with names of her classmates in bold and colorful writing on cards at the very front. She quickly looks for her name and takes a seat. On the board, her teacher’s name is artfully written in the center. Miss Ferguson. She must have been the one who had greeted Y/n at the door a few minutes earlier. 

Y/n’s curiosity gets the best of her, and she starts committing every feature of the room to memory. The pictures of letters and corresponding objects and animals along the top of the blackboard are just like the ones from her old school. From her seat, she can see the playground, and she fantasizes about all the time she and Harry had spent on the monkey bars and hidden in the tube slide. 

“Do you want to trade notebooks?” Y/n turns in her seat in the direction of the voice. Behind her is a girl with blonde pigtails and an adorable gap between her two front teeth. “My mum always forgets that I don’t like purple.”

Y/n stares down at her own notebook, which is pink with white polka dots. “I like purple.” 

The girl grins widely. “Yay! You’re nice, I like you. I’m Penelope,” but as soon as she says it, her nose scrunches up in disgust. “But I hate being called that. So, just call me P or Penny!” Y/n gives a brief introduction, and the two girls trade notebooks. 

“You’re new, right?” Penny asks.

“Yup,” Y/n confirms, fishing her pencil case out of her backpack. “I moved here at the beginning of the summer.”

“Really? I’ve never lived anywhere besides here before, but when I’m older I want to live in London!” 

“That’s where I’m from,” Y/n says sheepishly. She hasn’t thought much about it, but when she does, she still misses it a fair amount. 

Penny’s hands go to her cheeks as she gapes in astonishment. “That’s so cool! What’s it like? Have you ever met the Queen?”

Y/n giggles. “I don’t even know where the Queen lives!” 

“Ugh, I’ve got so many things to teach you, then.” She and Penny make plans to hang out during breaktime and lunch.

Maybe Harry was right after all.

***

When the bell rings for lunch, Miss Ferguson’s class files out of the room in a somewhat straight-file line. Y/n walks behind Penny, her new friend is explaining all the proper ways to curtsy in front of a prince when a hand reaches out and tugs on the back of Y/n’s collar. 

She spins around, ready to thwack the whomever it might be. “I leave you for a few hours and you’ve already forgotten about me?” Harry smirks. 

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” she says. She’s fallen to the back of the line now. Penny stays back too and walks over to the two of them. “Harry, this is Penny! She’s in the same class.” 

Penny’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and her cheeks flush a shade of pink. “Hi-hi,” she stutters. Y/n stares at her for a moment, unsure where this sense of shyness has suddenly come from. She shakes her head, it’s probably just a draft from an open window. 

“Hi, Penny,” Harry returns kindly. He then turns back to Y/n. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’m starving!” 

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Penny says, sounding much more like herself. Y/n walks in between them, feeling content. 

***

By the time she’s fifteen, Y/n has all she can ever ask for. Her dad doesn’t travel as much anymore, except for trips to the London office once a month, he’s able to work from Manchester. Ava’s seven now, and therefore able to cause all sorts of mischief. In fact, just last night, she’d eaten the entire leftover cake in the fridge when the rest of the family had gone to bed. She claims it was a ghost, but the frosting smeared across her face told everyone otherwise.

Penny’s practically moved in with them. Things at home aren’t always the best for her. Her mum usually spends the days drinking, the nights clubbing, and the early hours of the morning in some stranger’s bed. As for her dad, Penny doesn’t bring him up much. He decided to reconcile with his wife when Penny was three years old, leaving her and her mother penniless and alone. And well, she hasn’t spoken to him since. 

Finally, there’s Harry. He’s still her funny, sweet, and incredibly cute best friend. He’s sixteen now, far more mature than her. While they still spend loads of time together, he has his friends, and she has hers. Although, he does still come around for breakfast on the weekends––Nan’s French toast is still his most favorite thing on the planet––and they usually spend the rest of the time catching up on homework and watching movies they’ve already seen a million times. She loves how she’s never bored when she’s around him. They could be laying on the grass outside her house (much like they usually do) for hours, talking about nothing and everything, and still never run out of things to talk about. 

Except in the last few months. The thing is, Harry’s got himself a girlfriend, Lia, and she doesn’t like Y/n. There’s no logical explanation as to why, but whenever Y/n tries to talk to Harry at school, Lia slips her arms around him, like she’s claiming what’s hers, and glares at her until she has no choice but to retreat. She doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry that his first serious girlfriend is a total bitch, no matter how much she wants to. 

It’s a Friday night, Penny is staying over. She’s lazily flipping through last month’s edition of Vogue on Y/n’s desk. 

“Have you ever been in love?” she asks. 

“We’re fifteen. It’s not like there’s been much opportunity,” Y/n chuckles. She glances up momentarily from her sketchbook. If there’s a punchline, it never comes. She then gives her a look. “Why, have you?”

Penny shrugs. “Sometimes I think I am, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d never see me like that.” 

Y/n doesn’t respond to this. She’s heard stories about the boy Penny’s apparently fancied for ages now, but for some reason her friend refuses to give her a name. If she had to guess, it’s probably Bobby Baker from her French class. They dated for a few months when they were fourteen, but things had ended abruptly. Sometimes she’ll see them talking between classes and while in line for lunch. Her money’s definitely on Bobby.

Not wanting to press her for details, however, Y/n changes the topic. “Harry’s probably in love with Lia. I saw them snogging at the bust stop this morning.”

Penny groans. “They’re so gross!” she pretends to gag. “Oh, Harry. You’re so handsome! Kiss me before our lips dry out! Oh, Lia, you’re so pretty. Take this flower as a sign of my undying affections!” She imitates them, doing it so flawlessly. 

They share a look, and suddenly, they’re balled over in fits of laughter.

“How do they even breathe?” Y/n wheezes into her pillow. It’s not to say that she hasn’t kissed a boy before. It’s just never been as intense––or as nauseating––as that. Besides, none of her boyfriends have last long enough. Harry says that it’s all for the best, according to him, none of them are good enough for her. 

“They’re twos, you’re a total ten,” he had said to her once. She pretended not to feel her heart leap at the compliment. “A ten can’t go any lower than maybe a seven.” She wanted to say that she thought he was a ten, too, but was too embarrassed to say it.

***

Penny leaves early the next morning, but first helping herself to some of the food Nan had just prepared before zipping out the door. She leaves Y/n half asleep and barely functional.

“So, what’s the gossip?” Nan teases her, pouring her a cup of tea. 

“Same old, same old,” she yawns. She breathes in the steam from her mug and smiles. 

Nan places a plate of French toast in front of her. “Talking about the same old things until three in the morning? If only your grandfather and I could stay up that late. Of course, we’d be doing other things that decidedly aren’t–” she pauses, and Y/n’s never been more thankful. They both turn towards the back door. “Ah, and I was just beginning to worry.” 

Harry mutters a sleepy good morning, then stumbles into the seat beside Y/n. He looks at her breakfast, then looks at her. As if they can communicate silently, Y/n pushes her plate towards him. 

“Harry, dear,” Nan starts, making up a new plate for her granddaughter. “How does your mum feel about you spending so much time here?” 

“She’s fine with it,” he says, mouth full of bread. “As long as I bring her back some food, she says I can spend as much time here as I want.” 

Nan just rolls her eyes. “Will that be banana or blueberry then?”

“Hmm...” Harry pretends to mull over the options, but Nan knows better. Y/n watches with amusement as she places both bananas and blueberries on top of the French toast, then places it on a disposable plate and wraps it with tinfoil. 

She turns to them. “I’m just going to pop next door and give this to Anne.” Just before she can slide the door open, she calls one last remark over her shoulder. “Try not to burn the house down. We just had the floors waxed.” 

Y/n continues to sip on her tea, and Harry hums happily around another delectable bite. They sit in comfortable silence. 

“I feel like we haven’t talked in a while,” he says. He looks at her curiously. “Why is that?”

She has to bite her lip in order to stop herself from saying something she’ll regret. “Well, you know. I’ve been really busy lately.” From the corner of her eye, she can see how one of his brows shoot straight up.

“Busy with?”

“You know there’s an art show happening soon. I’ve been spending all my time in the art room.” She knows she isn’t convincing anyone, let alone him. He can read her like a book.

But if Harry is thinking she’s lying, then he doesn’t say anything. “Right,” he says aloofly. Taking another bite of his––her––breakfast, he continues. “Lia’s going to have a few pieces on display.”

This catches her off guard. “Lia’s into art? Since when?” 

He gives her a noncommitted grunt. “It’s news to me too.” He takes her mug from her hands and takes a sip. “But she seemed really interested when I mentioned you were participating.”

“Huh.” She rests her chin on her fist. That’s strange. She’s never seen Lia Hall set foot anywhere near the art room. Lia’s a cheerleader and spends most of her time cheering on the school’s football team, which is how she and Harry got together. Y/n would know if they shared any common interests. At least that way, she could talk to Harry without her grumbling bloody murder under her breath. 

“What is it?” his question pulls her out of thought. She plasters a smile on her face and says it’s nothing. 

***

Her bedroom window is right across from his, and they’ve been using it to their advantage since they were kids. When they both had bedtimes that were too early to ever enjoy the night, they would look out their window and find the other looking right back. They’d spend the night trying to make the other laugh with funny faces and their own little game of charades. 

But as Y/n looks up from her half-finished essay and through the glass, she doesn’t need elaborate hand motions to know that Harry is pissed. She wonders if he realizes where he’s standing or maybe he just doesn’t care right now. He looks like he’s trying to stay calm, but Y/n knows him better than that. While he isn’t one to yell, his voice does get tight when he’s trying hard not to. 

He runs a hand through his brown locks in frustration. She feels guilty for not having the strength to turn away, but she’s just too curious for her own good. If only she could read his lips just to get an idea as to why he’s so upset, but alas, that’s never been her talent. She waits, occasionally working on her essay (occasionally), then lifting her head back up to check up on him. 

When she looks up after a stroke of genius that had promoted words to pour out onto the page, he’s gone. Her shoulders drop in disappointment. Oh, well. At least all she has to do now is proofread. 

“Did you know your nan is making pot pie for dinner?” 

She swivels in her chair, her eyebrow tilting up. “I did.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” he pretends to be hurt as he falls onto her bed. “I’m wounded you would choose to withhold such valuable information from me.”

“I’m sorry?” she chuckles. Closing her laptop, she sits on the floor right beside where his head falls of the side of the bed. 

He turns to her, his upside-down face grinning pompously at her. “Eh, you know I can never stay mad at you.” She thumps his forehead with another laugh, but he only continues to smile.

*** 

Y/n’s always loved art and how it can imitate life in the way the artist chooses. Ever since she can remember, she’s been doodling landscapes and portraits on napkins or just about any plain surface she can get her hands on. She thinks she gets it from her mum. There’s not much she can remember about her, but she does recall her mother’s love for the fine arts. And as much as she tries not to think about her, she’s happy she knows where she gets it from. 

Mrs. Cuomo, the art teacher, says she has a gift, and Y/n tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it! She’s already taken to looking for art programs around England. If she wouldn’t miss her family too much, she’d consider going abroad. 

“Paris seems fabulous, don’t you think? I mean, they have some of the best fashion schools in the world.” Penny muses as they walk around the gallery. “French boys are a plus.”

“Is that where you want to go after college?” 

“Possibly. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to afford it, though.” 

Y/n nods, understanding her friend’s situation.

They continue to browse all the art on display, until stopping at Y/n’s exhibit. She has three paintings. The one on the left is an abstract portrait of Ava that she’d been working on since the last art show. It was inspired by her little sister’s fifth birthday. Dad had bought her the cutest little periwinkle dress with a grey ribbon around the waist. It’s something Y/n would’ve been over the moon for at that age. But Ava being the little rebel she was (and still is) had gotten it all dirty. Right before her party, she came trudging back into the house, a complete mess from head to toe. Y/n’s entitled the portrait Muddy Princess. On the right is a landscape of a forest with the simple name Serene Acres. Finally, the one in the middle is a sideview of a boy laying in the grass. His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed. He looks relaxed, like he’s never had a trouble in the world. As do all her paintings, this one had started off as a mere sketch born from a vision that she suddenly had just as she had woken up. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it anything more than that. But the longer she spent refining it, she just knew she had to take it all the way. There’s something comforting about him. This one in particular is Y/n’s absolute favorite. 

“Oh, you’re totally going to win this year,” Penny enthuses. “I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend and I’d literally give you a kidney, but seriously. You’re golden.” 

“I hope you’re right,” she says nervously. “Mrs. Cuomo said that the judges are going to be a lot more critical this year. I just hope they like my stuff.” 

Penny waves her off, as if she were talking nonsense. “They will.”

“Will what?” A pair of familiar hands land on her waist, and she can’t help but smile when sees him gasp at the wall in front of her. “Woah,” he’s speechless. She pats his arm as she steps away from him, afraid that his girlfriend might catch sight of them. 

“You like them?” she smiles. He nods, still unable to speak. 

“So, where’s Lia’s display?” Penny asks, but Y/n can sense the annoyance in her voice. She knows all about the girl’s hatred of Y/n.

Harry stares blankly, until finally registering the question. “Oh...um. She decided not to enter, after all.” He wraps an arm Y/n once again, and this time, Y/n doesn’t bother pushing him off.

“That seems sudden,” she says.

“Well...” Harry looks left and right, like he’s making sure no one will hear them. “I guess she realized that she didn’t stand a chance.”

This makes Penny snort. “Are we talking about the same girl here? Lia Hall does not back down. From anything. I’ve seen her at the mall fighting over jeans with University kids. She’s scary as hell.”

***

She’s laying on the grass on her front lawn when Harry comes outside and joins her. His body is oriented in the opposite direction so that their eyes are aligned if they were to face each other. He doesn’t say anything more than a hello. His hands are placed on his stomach and his nose wriggles when a cool breeze brushes past. 

“Lia and I broke up,” he suddenly says, but his voice is even and calm. 

“I’m sorry.”

He laughs loudly. “No, you’re not.” He glances at her before facing back up. “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that you two don’t get along.”

“At least I know you’re not dense.” She bites back a smile. Why is she so elated with the news? Does that make her a bad person? Who’s to say? “She was pretty awful.”

“She was hot, though,” Harry interjects.

“I suppose.”

Silence washes over them. If she were any more relaxed, she’s sure she could fall asleep right here, next to him. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“The clouds, Harry. Aren’t they beautiful?” She giggles when he squints at the grey canvas above them. 

“There are no clouds,” he says flatly. He turns his head, their eyes lock.

She swallows, and she’s the first to turn away. With a content sigh, she lets her eyes droop closed. Even without looking, she can feel the way his gaze lingers, like he might be waiting for something more. “You too,” it’s a gentle request, possibly an order. He’s never been able to deny her anything. 

“Alright then,” there’s an amused tone to his voice now. He breathes deeply, his own eyes closing as the air leaves his chest. 

They lay motionless for a comfortable few minutes. Things are quiet between them, and only nature’s melody that plays uninterrupted. 

The wind whistles, and the leaves on the trees dance along with crisp and breezy movements. As the air––which smells strongly of fall’s fiery allure––rubs against her skin and tickles the tip of her nose, another blissful smile leaves a pattern across her lips.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“Not much, honestly. My eyes are closed.” 

She punches his arm. “Don’t be an arse.”

He groans out in pain. “Fine then,” he concedes. “What do you see?”

The image is vivid in her head. “Purple clouds.”

He chuckles softly.

“What color is the grass?”

“Green, of course.”

“That’s boring,” he teases.

She huffs in annoyance. “Not everything needs changing, you know.” He doesn’t challenge it.

“And the sky?”

That’s her favorite part. 

“Tangerine.”

“That’s a fruit.”

“and a color.”

“Why can’t you just say orange?” 

“Because,” she starts in her best ‘you better listen to me or else’ tone. “Orange is a meh kind of color. But tangerine? It’s a bit more exciting.”

“Exciting,” he repeats slowly, as though he were testing the weight of the word on his tongue. 

When she opens her eyes, fully expecting him to be looking at her as though she had two heads, she’s surprised to see that his are still closed. She finds herself studying him. The way his chest steadily rises and falls with each even breath. He looks as calm as she feels at that moment. It’s then she can appreciate just how handsome he really is. Of course, she’s known it for a while (but she’d never tell him that).

So, she turns her head back towards the grey-washed sky and paints over its gloom with an image of their own. 

***

Right before he starts Year 13, Harry’s dad, Des, moves to Boston. Harry tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but Y/n knows that he misses him a lot. Even though his parents have been separated for a long time, he’d at least had a good relationship with both of them. He and his dad would do “manly” things like fishing and batting at the cages. He keeps telling her that he’s fine, and it’s not like he’ll never visit him, but she can sense that something is troubling him. 

It takes a bit of finesse to get him to talk, and once he does, she immediately regrets it. 

“He wants me to follow him,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head. Y/n thinks she might throw up. Boston...America...it’s just so far away. The farthest she’s ever been is Italy on vacation. 

She stares at him apprehensively. “Do you...umm...do you want to go?” 

Harry doesn’t answer her at first. It takes to the count of five for him speak. “I don’t know. Probably not. I mean...it’s a lot to ask, don’t you think? He’s asking me to uproot my life here.” He gazes at her. “And I really like it here.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding. She doesn’t think she’d be able to handle being that far from him. He’ll be starting University in the fall, and him going to London already feels too much. Goodbyes aren’t easy for her, and she doesn’t think they’ll ever get easier. 

“At least both parents want you,” she doesn’t realize what she’s saying until it’s up in the air. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, it’s fine,” she shrugs him off. “It’s just, you’re lucky that both of them love you.”

Harry appears to think hard on this. “I love you.”

Her heart stops beating, her eyes double in size.

“What?” 

He reddens, and for once, she can’t tell what’s going through his head. His jaw juggles back and forth, and then he coughs like he’s got something stuck in his throat. He wipes a hand down his face. “I mean, you’re my best friend, of course I do.” 

Just as quickly as it had enlarged, something inside her deflates. “Oh, right,” she tries not to sound disappointed. It’s a little awkward now, but she’s at least comforted in the fact that he values her so much. She nudges her elbow against him. “Hey,” she quips.

He tilts his head.

“I love you too, doofus.” 

***

Y/n’s always thought her dad to be a kind and fair man.

Matthew Y/l/n doesn’t spoil his girls, but he also knows how to reward them for a job well done. He’s also one of those approachable dads, the ones you can talk to about a crush without him getting overly protective. From when she was eight and until now, he’s always been there for her and Ava, and for that, Y/n is forever grateful. 

Which is why she feels like she can discuss this one teensy little thing with him. Now, Y/n, she’s made up her mind about wanting to pursue a career as an artist. Some might say it’s insane! Risky! Financial suicide! But isn’t the threat of failure all the more reason to strive? She thinks so, and she just knows that her dad will too!

After dinner, which is when her dad is at his happiest. His belly is full of Nan’s roast, and he’s sitting next to Gramps on the couch while they watch sports. This is her chance. She’s already practiced on everyone else in the house, plus Penny and Harry, so she has a pretty solid plan on how to approach him.

“Hey, daddy,” she says sweetly, plopping between him and Gramps. He smiles at her and flings an arm around her shoulder. He returns his attention back to the telly. She gives Gramps a look, one so pleading that she thinks she might have just made him tear up, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. 

“I’ve, uh, got to take a shit.” And he stumbles into the hall, Nan’s snorting following closely behind. 

“So, dad, there’s something I actually want to talk about,” she starts, turning so she’s completely facing him. Matthew presses on the remote so that the screen is completely black. He prods her to continue. 

Y/n chuckles nervously. No big deal. “You know how I’m like crazy about my art? I mean, I’ve won three competitions in the last nine months!” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ve been telling everyone at work that my daughter’s an artist. You should’ve seen Anthony’s face when he found out you were the one who beat his boy out for the ribbon...”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” She can feel herself getting excited. “And I’m so proud that I get to make you proud. I mean, you’ve given me so much, I feel like it’s the least I can do.” On her lips is her most dazzling smile. 

He eyes her suspiciously. “Okay, I’m sensing something else going on here. Spit it out.”

“Well, it’s just that next year is my last year of college, and I’ll be applying to universities soon, so I was hoping that we could talk about me pursuing art.”

“Pursuing art, as in...?”

“Dad, I want to be an artist.” That wasn’t so bad, right? She can see her dad’s face waver in emotion. At first, he looks confused, then maybe a little unsure, but then he’s just unreadable. “Thoughts?” she presses.

“No.”

Had she just heard him right? “What?”

“No.”

“But, Dad–”

“There’s little to no security. The odds of you even making a decent living out of it are practically one in a million.”

“Wait, just hear me out first...”

“I’ve heard enough, Y/n. You’re not going to throw away an education on a hobby.” He sighs, and for a moment, he looks almost guilty. “Look, I’m not telling you to never paint again. I’m just saying that you need to approach this from a more realistic point of view. How about you major in something more reliable––like business or nursing––then minor in what you want?” He continues to ramble on about different prospects, but she’s completely drowned him out by now.

There’s a spot on the rug that’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Where had she gone wrong? He’s never been so forceful with his decisions before. Had she overlooked a portion of her speech? 

“Mum loved art,” she whispers, but it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

Matthew stiffens at the mention of his estranged wife. “Your mother loved a lot of things. A lot more than she ever loved us.” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

***

“I think you should go for it,” she can always count on Harry to support her. 

She sighs, burying her face in his pillow. It smells of coconut and lavender. After her dad had walked out, she’d ran across the yard and had tackled Harry with a hug while he was taking out the trash. He’d given her some water (God knows how hysterical she’d been moments prior) before leading her up to his room so she could calm down.

“What if Dad’s right?” she mutters. “What if this really is just a hobby?” She suddenly feels herself being flipped onto her back, his legs straddling either side of her, his eyes boring into hers like lasers. Thoughts flash through her head, and it crosses her mind that he might actually kiss her. But he remains still.

“Look at me,” he says. “You’re amazing, and you know it. I know it. This whole damn town knows it. If there’s one person I know can make it as an artist, it’s you.”

While his words do encourage her, she’s far more concerned with how close he is. She nods in acknowledgement, and he flops next to her. Both of them stare at the ceiling. She wonders if he ever feels what she feels. 

“I got you something,” he says after a few minutes. He quickly turns and fishes for something under his bed.

“A present?” she doesn’t bother hiding the playfulness in her voice.

He kicks the side of her leg. “Grow up.”

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

He pulls out a giftbag and hands it to her. “Saw this when I was out with Mum and well, it reminded me of you.” 

Peeking into the bag, she immediately smiles. “Is this...is this a frog?”

“Yeah, because remember when we first met? I gave you a–”

“Chocolate frog,” she finishes. It’s a plush toy the size of a basketball and its body is the same colors as their special world. Harry must’ve picked it out because of it. He’s always been thoughtful like that. It shouldn’t surprise her, but whenever he remembers these little things, she can’t help but feel weak at the knees. She and hugs her new frog to her chest. “It’s so cute! Oh, what should we name it?”

“Well, I feel like there’s only one appropriate name for it,” he winks.

“Kaleidoscope?” 

“That...that wasn’t even close to what I was going to say.”

She giggles, reaching over and bringing him in for a hug. “I’m just messing with you! We’ll obviously be calling him Freddo.” She sighs happily when his arms hold on to her tightly. Yeah, she likes his hugs a lot.

***

It’s the middle of March when Harry’s cousin comes to live with him. Jared is about his age, with the same shade of brown hair, only his is straight as opposed to Harry’s mess of wavy curls. Harry had told her that Jared’s mother (Anne’s sister, Sonya) had just passed away after her battle with cancer, and Y/n’s heart broke for the boy she barely knows. Similar to Penny’s situation, Jared’s dad isn’t in the picture. He’d left him and his mum before he was even born, and according to Harry, Jared’s always been very bitter about it.

Jared doesn’t leave his room much, only for school and for meals. Harry’s the only person he talks to because he wants to, not because he has to. They were practically like brothers before Jared had moved away, which Y/n is surprised to hear since she’s never heard of him before. But apparently when they were kids––way before Y/n moved in next door––Jared and his mum would always come over Harry’s house, and they’d play until one of them had to be forcibly dragged away. She had laughed when Harry had told her the story of how he and Jared had gotten stuck in the tree out back for five hours because the adults were so busy chatting inside.  

Sometimes Y/n will stop by and personally offer him some of Nan’s famous chocolate pie, and he’ll accept it only to give it to Harry once she leaves. Of course, she knows it’s nothing personal against her, it just makes her sad that she can’t help someone who is so important to her best friend. It’s hard for her to see Harry worry so much about him, and she really is trying her hardest to help him out. She doesn’t think Jared hates her, if anything, she always catches him staring at her in the halls when he thinks she doesn’t notice. That’s a promising sign, right?

“I happen to think he’s very good looking,” Penny tells her as they walk to Physics. “He kind of reminds of a young Leo.”

“You said the same thing about Harry last week,” Y/n giggles.

“They’re related, aren’t they? Maybe beautiful genes run in the family.”

Penny looks at her. “What do you think?”

She stares back at her. “About?”

“You know, Jared!” 

Y/n’s lips purse together. She hadn’t given him much thought, honestly. 

***

She’s glued to her sketchpad while sitting on the front lawn when she notices a shadow approach her. Not bothering to look up, she pats the spot beside her.

“Nan says that the pudding will be ready in ten,” she says. 

“That’s...cool.” That’s not Harry.

Tearing her eyes away from her latest drawing, she turns her head and sees the last person she expected. “Jared! Hi!” she squeaks.

He offers her a side grin. “Hey,” is all he says. He looks down into her lap. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans before settling them around his ankles. “Uh...do you mind if I sit here with you? You can say no, I was just feeling a little stuffed up in–”

“Of course! I love company!” she smiles broadly.

“I don’t know, you and that pencil were looking pretty cozy,” he suggests. She quirks a brow at him, but when the signs of a smirk begin to change the way his eyes gleam, she finally gets it.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting!” She doesn’t hesitate to slap him over the head. He sniggers in return but doesn’t say much more after that. Y/n continues to draw, but occasionally she’ll look up and catch him watching her. He immediately turns away, pretending to be busy with a blade of grass, or he’ll start whistling like it’s a sitcom.  

***

It doesn’t take long before Jared finally opens up to her. He’s funny––really funny, even though most of his humor is dirty––and is constantly finding ways to make Y/n laugh. She’s found that he does a nearly perfect impression of Austin Powers, and she enjoys it very much. There are also certain angles that really highlight how handsome he is. His eyes are a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair. There are freckles evenly spread around his nose, almost as if they’d been specifically placed there. And oh, his lashes! They’re just as long as Harry’s, except maybe even fuller. She imagines what they would look like with a fresh coat of mascara. (She jokingly brought up the idea once, and to her delight, Jared says he wouldn’t mind it one bit.)

Harry seems happy that his cousin appears to be back to his old, goofball self. He’s definitely not as stressed over trying to get Jared out of his room as he had been in the immediate weeks after his Aunt Sonya’s death. Even Anne is starting to smile more. Losing her sister had been difficult for her, but Y/n admires how she had stepped up and took her nephew in without hesitance. She’s almost positive that that’s where Harry gets his selflessness from.

“Okay, real question, would you rather give up all desserts or all cheeses?” Jared asks. He always plays this game with her. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes even thought-provoking if she’s really into it. 

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. Because what about–”

Both their eyes grow wide. “Cheesecake!”

Her head falls onto his shoulder as she laughs. She doesn’t see how Harry turns away. Although, sometimes she’ll notice how he’ll have this weird look in his eyes whenever the three of them are all hanging out together, but she thinks she’s just imagining it. 

***

When Penny tells her that Jared might like her, she doesn’t totally object to the idea.

***

A few days later, Jared kisses her. It’s one of those kisses that happen when you least expect it. She’s frozen in shock until his lips pull away. It’s strange, she likes the feeling, but something seems amiss. He looks at her nervously, like he’s afraid he’s done something completely wrong. But when she finally manages to get over that initial uncertainty, a grin slowly forms on her lips, and he’s kissing her again.

***

In two weeks’ time, she sees Harry snogging Penny outside his front door. She isn’t sure how to react, but she knows there’s this weird feeling inside of her that she doesn’t like.

***

Her and Harry haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other since they started dating other people. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, in fact, she really misses him. Saturday morning breakfasts just aren’t the same without him shuffling into the kitchen in his half-asleep state. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going out of his way to avoid her. Penny says that maybe he’s just feeling awkward because her two best friends are dating. (It turns out Harry had been the guy she’d been pining over for years.)

Maybe that’s true, but shouldn’t that make it easier for them to find themselves in the same room? She’s happy that Penny’s finally happy! Things hadn’t worked out with her last two boyfriends because all they wanted was to take advantage of her. If there’s one thing she’s sure about, it’s that Harry would never cross any lines that Penny hadn’t invited him to cross.

When they’re in Harry’s car, she’ll catch glimpse of how Harry takes Penny’s hand over the console, or how she’ll feed him fries from their takeaway. It makes her happy to see them like this. Really, it does.

Jared is just as much a gentleman, too. They haven’t done anything past snogging, and she’s okay with that. She isn’t even sure she’s ready for that type of commitment. It’s not like she has this idealized fantasy about losing her virginity. She doesn’t expect it to happen in the same way as the movies, with candles and a bed full of rose petals, or any of that romantic stuff. If the time’s right, it’s right. All she wants is to make sure her heart’s a hundred and ten percent in it before she lets anyone in. She wonders if Penny and Harry have talked about going all the way.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh,” Y/n tries not to sound surprised. “And how did that go?”

Penny gives a noncommitted answer. “He says he’s willing to wait until I’m ready. But the thing is, I’m ready now!”

***

Penny loses her virginity soon after. Y/n is the first person she calls, and it’s a bunch of squealing and bragging about how perfect it all was. How gentle and attentive he’d been, and how she can’t wait to do it again. It takes everything in her to not hang up. She loves Penny to death, but some things––at least in her opinion––are left unsaid.

***

The first time she and Harry get to spend time together, as in just the two of them, is when Jared is stuck in bed with a cold, and Penny is out with her mum. It’s not exactly planned, in fact, she had only seen him from the living room window whilst helping Nan dust the mantel. Deciding she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she drops the feather duster and runs out the front door.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, but she doesn’t sit. It’s only now she sees the bottle of beer hanging between his fingers. He usually only drinks when he’s got something messing with his head. 

He nods at her, and gestures to the spot beside him. She sits, but it feels to calculated for them. Usually, she’d plop down, not caring if their knees would brush together. Now, she’s careful to leave at least a few inches between them. And she hates how awkward things feel between them. In a matter of months, they’d gone from being attached at the hip, to barely acquaintances. 

“So, what’s going on?”

He takes a sip from the bottle, his face twitching with disgust as he does so, then takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel like things should be different?”

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair over her shoulders. She doesn’t know if the goosebumps running down her spin are from that or the it’s from the magnitude of his question. “Different, how?”

His features soften when he finally looks at her. As in, really looks at her. It feels like so long since he’s done, that it takes her breath away. He doesn’t say anything yet, but she can see in his eyes that there’s something there. 

“Harry?” she whispers.

His eyes drop down to her lips, and he licks his own in reaction. Nothing seems to matter at that moment. If her mind had been juggling with thoughts before this, it isn’t now. All she can think about his him. How good it feels to be so close him, and how she wants to be closer. 

Then it hits her. Jared. She’s with Jared, and Harry’s with Penny. She’d been leaning into him, but now that she’s broken from his trance, she straightens up.

Harry brushes off his disappointment with another sip from his beer. His stare lands across the street, where a pair of children are chasing each other around a tree. He drops his head, his hand wrapping around the base of his neck.

“I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow.”

She nods slowly. “Visiting your dad?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

Finally, he stands up, then offers her his hand so she can too. He doesn’t let go right away, and she revels in how good it feels. She smiles down to where they’re holding each other, then stares into his green orbs. 

Pulling on her arm, she’s suddenly trapped in his embrace. She hugs him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulder blades and pinching his t-shirt between her fingers. It’s all a bit confusing, but she continues to cling to him. She feels his nose nudge the crown of her head before he lets go.

He turns around and doesn’t look back. 

She isn’t sure what just happened, but it feels a lot like goodbye.

*** Ten Years Later

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighs. “I can’t be the only one who’s thinking it.” He shuffles in place, eyes scanning the room around them. “What do you suggest then?”

“Take this to the empty wall by the entrance, then move the Reynalda exhibit closer to the back. It’s our main attraction, we have to make people work for it.”

Angelo nods approvingly, and she calls a thank you out to him as he gets to work. Y/n watches the rest of her staff disperse into their allocated directions, and it’s then she can finally take a moment for herself. Sometimes she feels suffocated, but at the same time so hollow.

There are so many reasons why Y/n shouldn’t be feeling as empty as she does now. After all, her life is pretty damn close to perfect. She graduated university with high honors, she has a well-paying job as director of a prestigious art gallery, and she lives in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment with her adoring fiancé who she’s been with for the better part of a decade. 

She can’t pinpoint when exactly she realized that something had been missing, or maybe this feeling has always existed somewhere deep inside, and she’s just been really good at hiding it. The only person who knows about this internal battle is Ava, but Y/n doesn’t like to bother her too much since she’s busy with coursework, as well as her own problems that come with being nineteen and young. 

Of course, there’s Jared. Her love. Her rock. Her other half. She doesn’t know why can’t talk about this with him. Maybe it’s too much of girl problem, or maybe it’s just guilt. The last thing she wants him to think is that he’s not enough to fill this void in her life. If anything, he’d been able to pick up all her damaged pieces when she just couldn’t. He’s great, more than. She depends on him, and he’s never let her down. 

But if that’s true. Why can’t she just be honest?

***

“Right, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you–” he pauses, and she can see the concern overtake his features from the reflection of the blank television screen. He walks around their living room and kneels in front of her, his hands rubbing her lower thighs with every intention to soothe her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t really know,” she laughs, then shakes her head. “It’s silly, really. You go ahead. Go have fun with Sid.” It’s her best attempt at a smile, but it’s a weak one. 

He looks at her unsurely, like he’s debating if he should protest or not. She kisses him gently on the lips. 

“Go.” And she nudges him to his feet. Although she can tell he’s hesitant, he eventually concedes, leaning down for just one more peck to her forehead, then he’s out the door.

She needs to find a way to depress this strange feeling. It’s starting to affect too much of her life. A life that she enjoys, thank you very much.

Before she falls slave to her thoughts, she slumps into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cabernet. Maybe it’s a far too generous portion, but is there ever such thing as too much wine? At least for tonight, the answer is no.

The alcohol burns her throat with its bitter sweetness, and she finds comfort in how it settles at the pit of her stomach. She breathes in deeply. This is just what she needs. It’s all in her head. Stress, probably. 

Just as she’s about to rewrap herself in her blanket, the front door opens and closes with a gentle thud. She swings around, brows curling in question as Jared slips off his coat leans against the nearest wall.

“Sid will understand. You’re the one who needs me tonight.” 

She leans against the arm of the couch, a moved smile playing at her lips because, wow. How did she get so lucky?

***

“I found another grey hair this morning,” Jared says. “Is this what getting old feels like?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-eight, Jae. And besides, silver foxes are pretty sexy.” 

“I guess I’m a bit of a Clooney.” And he wags his brows suggestively. If he’s trying to come onto her, it’s not exactly working, but she’s also not completely turned off. This is why they’re good together. After all these years he still knows how to make her laugh.

They’re about a quarter though their takeaway (and she’s so touched that Jared decided to stay home that she doesn’t even say anything about the pork fried rice) when their doorbell sounds.

“I got it, hun,” he says, placing his plate on the coffee table, and grabbing a napkin before greeting the unexpected guest.

Y/n is pleasantly surprised when Penelope falls into the seat beside her. She looks dressed for a date, but the way she blows ferociously into the air, Y/n knows that things haven’t gone her way.

Without asking, Penny helps herself to their food, moaning as she stuffs a spoonful of that same fried rice into her mouth. “If I wasn’t wearing this dress, I would a hundred percent finish this whole thing.”

“You can borrow some clothes,” Y/n offers. Her friend pretends to contemplate, but she’s the first one to stride over into the master bedroom. 

Y/n pulls out a fresh pair of pajamas, and when she turns around, her mouth quirks in a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Under Penny’s dress is the daintiest set of red lace lingerie she’s ever seen. (And she has her fair share of lingerie since she knows it drives Jared wild.)

“Looks like you were in for a sexier evening,” she muses. She tosses Penny the set.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing,” she says. Y/n isn’t quite sure what she means by it, but smirks, nonetheless.  

“Now...” Penny pulls her hair through the hem of the borrowed shirt, “let’s finish off that food, shall we?”

Jared doesn’t say anything when they get back, either too consumed with his egg rolls or not wanting to interject himself into the conversation. Y/n simply kisses him on the cheek as she settles back into her meal. 

She glances at Penny for a moment, and her curiosity becomes overpowering. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to ask, but I feel like I have to now,” she explains. Penny cocks a brow at her. “What happened tonight.”

“He cancelled last minute. I was already at the damn restaurant when he texted saying something came up.” She stabs a piece of orange chicken. “It’s a bunch of bullocks if you ask me.” Typical Penny. It wouldn’t be fair to say that her friend is prone to trust issues, but it does take a little more effort. Ever since Harry had broken up with her back when they were seventeen, she hasn’t kept a relationship for more than a few weeks because she claims she doesn’t want to risk getting her heart broken again.

Harry Styles had broken her best friend’s heart, then disappeared to another country. Y/n hates him for that. She hates that he threw away all those years of friendship without a proper explanation. She hates that he abandoned her, especially when he knew how insecure she is about goodbyes. 

But not every guy is Harry. There are good ones that will stick by you no matter what, like Jared. Y/n reaches over and brushes his bangs away from his eyes. Penny just needs to find her person, and Y/n just knows that once she does, she’ll finally feel right.

“This is that Ahmed guy from the gym, right? I don’t know, Pen. He’s a decent bloke. Maybe something really did happen.”

Penny pulls a face, like she’s just oversaturated her food with soy sauce. “Wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s got baggage, and he won’t accept that he isn’t happy to carry it anymore.”

That last bit sticks to her. 

***

Her job requires her to have both a deep appreciation for art and a mind for marketing strategy. It had been the closest compromise that she and her father had come to when she had started her plight for a degree. 

After spending the last of her year of secondary school having second thoughts about the plausibility of making it in the art world, she decided that maybe her dad was right, after all. He would tell her to be in charge, to take control of her life. That way, she’d never be blindsided by anything. She’s still around the world she loves––the canvas, the acrylics, the community of dreamers who share their passion with the world––just from a more business perspective. The more she reflects on those naïve teenage years, the more she appreciates the direction she’d took. She has the best of both worlds, in her opinion. A steady income, and a building full of paintings and sculptures and history. What more can she ask for?

“Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder, where Angelo, her assistant, waves some a sizeable file in his hands. He gives her a knowing smirk.

“Good news?” she teases.

Angelo hands her the file. “Sales report can confirm.”

She glosses it over, satisfied with the numbers. Looks like she’d inherited more from her dad than just his advice. “And they said Expressionism was dead.” Their last grand showcase had been an ode to the German Expressionism movement. They had drawn criticism in the days leading up to the event because some saw it as outdated. But that’s just ridiculous. Art is art. And while history remains in the past, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be appreciated. Y/n’s vision for the gallery is embrace both the old and the new.

“Degenerates,” Angelo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Dax, Narsi, and I are thinking Damond’s for lunch. You in?”

She looks down at her watch, and curses under her breath. “Can’t,” she sighs. “I have to interview the new curator in a bit.”

“You work too much,” he says humorously, but they both know there’s truth stitched into his words. He gives a friendly squeeze to her elbow. “Bring you back sandwich?” 

“Please,” she smiles. He gives her a mock salute before turning on his heel. 

When he’s completely out of sight, she lets her lips fall into a frown. She examines her watch again, there’s still a few minutes until their scheduled virtual call. She uses the time to stroll the halls, something she doesn’t really get to do. Well, not for fun, at least. 

Things are currently in transition, and all of the Maximalism works are finding their way onto her walls. She stops in front of one in particular that just screams color. With its carefully planned, yet freeing mixture of patterns and textures, it’s a piece to tickle the brain. 

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes widen. That voice. She feels everything from her body to her unsuspecting heart freeze.

Her grip on her own arm tightens painfully. She thinks she might turn blue from her inability to breathe at this moment. 

“I’ve always liked how much of the artist we can feel. It really captures the complexity of character.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I agree.” She risks all and looks up, and he’s right there waiting for her. Harry. Her arms drop to her side as she feels herself grow weak.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Hi,” he whispers, then smiles. That smile. She had tried so hard not to think about how it had once been her favorite image. His dimples have caved in deeper, if that’s even possible. And his eyes, they’re the same brilliant green she remembers. “I saw an ad in the paper and thought I’d check it out.”

Something must be strangling her vocal cords because she finds that she’s unable to make a sound. 

***

“And what did you do?” 

Y/n drops her head to the table, not even caring if it’s dirty. With the day she’s had, it’s the least of her problems. “I was in shock! I-I think I might have screamed at him.” 

Ava snorts into her drink. 

There’s not much about earlier that she can clearly recall, but she does remember how she had fled to her car and driven halfway across the city to her sister’s dorm and dragged her to the nearest pub. Why? Because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Why would he just...show up?” she questions. “It makes no sense!”

“Probably got homesick,” Ava shrugs. “Plus, Dad says it’s been in the work–”

“Wait,” Y/n’s head snaps towards her. “Dad knows?”

The younger woman looks at her as if she were insane. “Duh, he’s the one that approved the transfer.”

“But why am I only hearing about this now?” She feels herself heating up with annoyance, anger, and something else that makes her want to pull her hair out. Ava doesn’t respond right away. She looks down at her now empty drink and watches as the ice cubes into water. 

“Well,” she starts, still not bothering to meet her eyes, “ever since he left, he’s been a bit of a taboo subject for you.” 

Her jaw tenses at that, and she sits back in her chair. That’s a bit of an overstatement. Y/n had reacted the way any person would have if put in her situation. She huffs with frustration. “So, what else is everyone hiding from me?”

“This isn’t an intervention, enough with the dramatics,” Ava says.

Y/n’s lips form into a straight line. She looks over the bar and tuts her tongue. “I need another drink,” she mutters. “Where the heck is Penny? She’s supposed to be working tonight.”

***

After Ava had started going to school in the city, her dad had decided to move into the London office full-time in order to be closer to both his girls. And lucky for Y/n, he’s just close enough to get information out of. She visits her dad during her lunch break because she needs answers.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she demands, bursting through his office door without any regard for just about anything. “Explain to me why...”

Matthew Y/l/n tilts his head at her with a raised brow, and the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk has an expression to match.

“Perfect,” she sneers. “We’re all here, then.”

She nearly loses it when Harry choke down a laugh while getting up and offering her his now empty seat. She takes it, but not before she glares at him and his stupid face. 

Her dad looks like he’s been caught in a crossfire, and he calculatingly smooths down his perfectly ironed tie. Harry takes the seat beside hers, except he makes a point to pull it a few inches away.

“So...” her dad practically sings. “Harry’s back!”

“I can see that.” From the corner of her eye, she sees a smirk. “Why are you even here?” 

Harry doesn’t seem offended despite the harsh nature of her tone. He chances a glance at her dad before turning to her. “Work,” is his first answer. He bounces one leg over the other and leans back against the back the seat. His expression softens. “But I guess I just really missed home.”

She thinks that’s bullshit. No decent person would leave everything behind without a second thought. “It took you ten years?”

“I did what I had to do,” he retorts.

“And that was to just disappear?” 

“This isn’t really the place nor time...”

“Then why bother coming back!"

That manages to crack Harry’s calm demeanor. He looks at her as if she had knocked the wind from his lungs. At this point her chest is heaving, as well. She forgets where they are and that her dad is a witness to this outburst. 

“I, uh,” they both turn to Matthew as he tries to find the words to appease the situation. “I was thinking we could all go out for dinner later?” He’s joking, right? He smiles as her, but with that ‘I’m your father and you don’t have much of a say in this’ look in his eyes. “How about you and Jared meet us around...say, seven? Hey, you know what? Bring Penelope, too!”

“Pen–”

Matthew swivels in his chair and practically hops to his feet. He leans down and kisses Y/n on the head. “Got to get to a meeting. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s gone. It leaves her alone with the person she wants nothing more than to get away from.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. There are so many things she feels bombarding her all at once and there’s not one thing she can make sense of. Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s typing something on his phone. His lips are quirked up in an almost-grin, and she can’t help but feel miffed that he has the audacity to pull such a face in her presence when all she can do is glower. 

“I guess we’ll talk later?” he suddenly says. He slips his phone into his pants pocket. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Like her dad had done, he gets up and starts towards the door. But before she can even hear it graze against the carpeting, he mutters one last thing. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

Her dress squeaks loudly against the leather of her seat because she must have turned too quickly. Their eyes meet, his are difficult to read.

***

“...and I’ve been trying to look for a flat, but the boss works me too hard,” Harry smirks over at Matthew. Her dad lets out a hearty chuckle as he finishes off the last of dessert.

“Well, if you’re really that overworked, it’s not at all obvious,” Penny says with a saucy smile. “Definitely still a catch.” She touches his arm, and Y/n digs her nails into her palm because it makes her feel sick. It’s ridiculous that she’s so bothered by how quickly conversation had flowed between Harry and Penelope. 

Jared has an arm around the back of her chair. He looks bored with the conversation. She can’t tell if he’s irked at Harry (in the same way she is) or because he sees how much her dad likes him. That’s not to say that Jared isn’t well liked by Matthew. He did get his blessing to propose, after all. Yeah, they’ve been engaged for a while now. But so, what? Long engagements are common enough, and it does allow the two participants to fully get to know one another, as well as get close to the important people in their lives. Things just aren’t as smooth between her dad and Jared as she would like, but she supposes that’ll ease over with time. 

“I wouldn’t let my current appearance fool you,” Harry snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Penny bats her lashes at him. 

Y/n can’t take it anymore. “So!” she interrupts, “Pen, didn’t you go out with that Vogue photographer last night?

Her friend gives her an odd look, but when she sees the rest of the table’s eyes on her, she waves it off. “Oh, yeah. But it didn’t end how I would’ve liked.” She gestures between her legs. “He had a little trouble getting it up.” 

“Penelope Swanton,” Matthew warns, as if she might give him a heart attack. “Parental unit sitting right here.”

Everyone shares a laugh except for Y/n and Jared. The latter just stares at the tablecloth with vague intensity. It’s strange that he hasn’t made a quip all night. He’s usually the one who talks the most...well, besides Penny. 

“Maybe pretty girls scare him,” Harry chuckles. “It happens to the best of us.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in Penny’s eyes. “Do I scare you, Harry?” 

“COFFEE!” Y/n all but screams. “We should order coffee!” She can’t just sit there and watch her friend make the same mistakes all over again. It would be a serious miscarriage of justice is she were to let that happen. 

But she can only stall for so long, and before she knows it, they’re all making their way out of the restaurant. It’s that awkward phase of standing outside and making small talk before someone has the balls to leave. Harry offers Penny a ride, and Y/n has to watch as they get into his car, laughing like he hadn’t broken her heart all those years ago. 

Jared still seems to be in a mood as well, but he plays it off and tells her he’s got a stomachache from the scallops he had as an appetizer. She rubs his back as they wait for the valet to bring their car around, glaring at Harry’s taillights before he turns onto the road. 

***

Y/n manages to not think about Harry for a few weeks. With the newest exhibit opening up, it’s kept her body and mind busy. By the time she gets home, she’s tired and all she wants is to put her feet up and watch reruns of Downton Abbey.

The doorbell rings, and she can’t help but groan because she was just getting comfortable. She looks through the peephole, then shakes her head knowingly. She pulls the door open.

“Don’t you have work?” she asks playfully, but she wishes she could take it back when she sees the broken look painted across Penny’s face. “Oh my god, are you alright?” She guides her friend into the apartment and sits her down on the couch.

Penny suddenly bursts into tears, her face falling into her hands as though she were hiding her shame. Not wanting to distress her further, Y/n gathers her in her arms and lets her cry it out. They’ve been through a lot together, and in all their years of friendship, she’s never seen her look so somber as she does now.  

She strokes her hair, whispering her reassurance even though she’s left in the dark. Penny breaks from her hug and wipes her eyes with her knuckles before looking at her with misty eyes. “I’m...” but she starts blubbering, and nothing coherent can be understood. Y/n waits patiently until she can speak. “I’m pregnant.” 

Y/n feels the color drain from her face while her head fills worry. She can’t decide who she’s worried more about, Penny or her baby. Penny is an adult is capable of making her own decisions, but she can also be reckless. She can barely pay her rent on time and her work schedule isn’t the best either. A baby would mean growing up, but Y/n knows that Penny’s still trying to figure things out. 

Then, the inevitable question bubbles in her throat. “How far along?” Penny sniffles. “About six weeks.”

Y/n feels awful that the first thing she feels is relief. Not Harry’s. “And the father?” 

“I can’t tell him,” Penny cries, she lays her head in Y/n’s lap. “He’s...he has a...” She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Y/n to understand.

“Penny...” her tone is every bit of disappointed. 

***

She accompanied Penny to her first appointment to the OB-GYN this morning, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat had been enough to drive both women to tears. It was beautiful, and the look in Penny’s eyes said all that they could. Sure, Y/n had worried about her when she first learned of the pregnancy, but that had immediately changed with just that one look. 

One day, Y/n hopes to have children of her own. She and Jared have opened up the topic a few times, but they never seem to be on the same page when it comes to starting a family. He claims it’s because his job’s hours are too crazy to juggle an infant. He’s the physical therapist for the National Football team, which means he has to go with them on away games. Deep down, however, Y/n thinks he’s afraid that he’ll end up the way his father did. She wants to tell him that’s ridiculous, but she always has to walk on eggshells about that. 

It’s okay, though. Until she and Jared can come to an agreement, she has no qualms over spoiling her new niece or nephew. Auntie Y/n. She likes the sound of that. So much, in fact, that she finds herself outside of a baby boutique on the high street. She wonders if Penny will be having a boy or a girl. 

“So cute!” she smiles to herself when she sees all the onesies on the mini mannequins. Would it be too early to plan Penny’s baby shower? She’s so lost in hypothetical party planning that she doesn’t notice see body before they collide, and warm liquid misses her shoes by mere centimeters. 

“I’m so sorry!” she rushes out an apology. There’s an unflattering brown stain on his otherwise perfect white button-up. She grabs for her wallet in her purse, hoping to at least pay for the damages, but stops when she gets a good look at him.

“You.” 

The world must really have it out for her. Harry looks down at his tainted shirt. “Nice seeing you too.” 

“Sorry,” she says again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Head in the clouds?” he muses, shaking his sleeve of the last remaining drops of coffee.

She smiles tightly. “Just window shopping.”

He looks at the store in front of them, and his head snaps towards her. “Are you...?”

“No,” she replies immediately. “A friend of mine.”

For some reason, his shoulders seem to relax. He’s still incredibly handsome, though she never doubted that that would ever change. Under his wet shirt, she notices a sizeable few tattoos inked onto his chest. The sight intrigues her, and she has to stop herself from reaching out and tracing them with her finger. 

“Let me pay for your dry-cleaning,” she says, tearing her eyes away from his body. 

Harry shakes his head. “There’s no need, honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” She really doesn’t want to be in his debt. “I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Why is he so stubborn?

“I insist.” 

He studies her for a moment. She imagines that she can see the gears turning as he thinks. 

“I’m actually on my way to a viewing, and well...I’m not really sure what to look for.”

She replays his words in her head. “So, you want me to...help you pick out an apartment?” That can’t be right.

“My car’s just over there,” he points with his chin. “What do you say?”

Alarms are sounding in her head, each one screaming a different command between her ears. A part of her is saying it’s a bad idea, that she should stand her ground and stay mad at him because of what he had done. On the other hand, the rest of her––the biggest part of her––wants to indulge in the feeling she has when she’s with him. It’s a crazy mix of fury and joy that isn’t entirely unbearable. 

“Fine,” she concedes, and she brushes past him and starts towards his car. “But only because I feel bad about the shirt.” She doesn’t dare look back. She slides into the passenger seat and buckles herself in. Her stomach is doing cartwheels beneath her high-waisted pants. 

Harry gets into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the engine right away. He pulls his jacket off and places it neatly on the console. What he does next makes her regret getting out of bed this morning. Her mouth dries as he undoes every button of his shirt and reveals the tattoos she’d been fantasizing about earlier.

“Do-do you mind?” She feels her cheeks heat up, and she turns to the window in hopes to find a distraction. 

“Well, I’m not going to talk business looking like I’ve just been bullied by a barista.”

“That’s completely beside the point!” 

“Well, you can look now, Mother Teresa,” he says smugly. She hesitantly cranes her neck back. He’s now sporting a similar shirt, but this time, it’s dark grey. “See?”

She huffs, then mutters something under her breath. He smiles at her, like he’s just dying to tease her, but ultimately decides not to. She just glares straight ahead.

“Just drive the damn car.”

***

“And this unit is complete with its own balcony which overlooks the Thames,” Mariette, Harry’s real-estate agent says to the both of them. “It sets the mood nicely, don’t you think? And it happens to be very popular with our younger couples.” She sends them a not-so-subtle wink. 

Y/n feels herself flush, and she ducks into the kitchen and pretends to inspect the marble countertop. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry says. He doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention, or if he is, he’s really good at hiding his own embarrassment. Y/n wonders if he’s just humoring the over-zealous agent. After all, he was never the type to correct someone over silly little details. 

Mariette tells them to walk around, get a feel for the place, before excusing herself to make a phone call. Y/n follows Harry up the stairs where all the bedrooms are. There are three, and the master bedroom has its own ensuite toilet and bath.

“What do you think?” Harry asks her.

She glances at the view from the window. It’s beautiful, gorgeous even. The building itself is in one of the nicer parts of town, where the congested London traffic wouldn’t take away from its overall aura. She can already picture him spending the mornings on the balcony with a cup of tea and a book or passed out on a king-sized mattress in the bedroom after a long day of work.

“It’s nice,” she answers truthfully. “But it doesn’t matter what I think.”

Harry looks at her like she’s spewing nonsense. “I asked for your input, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But at the end of the day, it’s your home. Not mine. You might not even stay around long enough to enjoy it.” The look on his face when she lets that last part slip out makes her wish she had just shut her mouth. She leaves him in the bedroom and heads into the hall. She needs to get away. Why couldn’t she have just given him a simple answer? Why does she continue to open up old wounds that she knows she’ll never be able to close? 

Before she can get far, however, his fingers curl around her shoulder. He swallows thickly behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Until now, he hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t expected him to, and now she isn’t sure how to take it. This should vindicate her, but all she wants to do is curl up and close herself off from the world, even for a little while.

She looks down to her feet, and as though on cue, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her hand quickly lands on her mouth to muffle a sob.

He turns her towards him, holding her by the waist. In a split-second, she’s wrapped in his arms. She tries to pull away, but her body is too unwilling to lose his familiar warmth. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” she whimpers against his shirt.

His chest heaves. “Because if I did, I’d never be able to leave.” His words shake her.

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “But what about me?” she asks. “Harry, you were my best friend, and you just treated me like I meant nothing to you.” It made her feel like nothing. Apparently, she’s an easy person to leave behind. First it was her mother, then the person she trusted most. She couldn’t tell you which had broken her more.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Scoffing, “A bit late for that, no?”

“Then let me make it up to you,” his plea is coated with desperation. Every bit of him shines with sincerity that she wishes she could ignore. His touch burns her through her clothes like blue flames. Body and mind are rekindling, and now that she remembers what it feels like to be close to him, she can’t see a version of herself that doesn’t want him back in her life.

“I don’t know if I believe in second chances,” she says softly. His grip on her loosens substantially, and there’s a sudden fear that he’ll let go. “But,” she continues, “you’ll be my first.”

It’s a bone-crushing, heart-enlarging hug, and it leaves her feeling happier than she’s felt in a long time.

***

They’re not the same two kids who would spend every waking moment together, but this is the closest they’ll ever get in adult life.

Harry visits her on her lunch breaks and lets her bounce marketing strategies off of him whilst they walk the gallery. Just like her dad, he has a well-versed business mind. It feels good to be able to talk to him again. It’s like a part of herself has risen after years of sleep and is finally seeing the light of day. Under the fancy suits and numerous tattoos, he’s still the same guy who can listen to her talk for hours without fail.

She’s even had him over for dinner at her and Jared’s place. At first, she was afraid that things would be tense between the two of them, after all, Jared hadn’t talked much during their dinner nearly a month back. To her delight, however, they seemed to pick up where they left off, and spent majority of the night talking sports and all that ‘man’ talk that she can never be bothered to understand. 

If a month ago she had felt empty, she can proudly admit that she’s starting to fill up.

***

When Penny announces that the baby is a girl, Y/n is probably the most excited. She visits the baby boutique she’d been browsing some days ago and buys a rubber duckie onesie with a matching headband, along with four other matching sets.

“You really shouldn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Penny scolds her.

Y/n waves her off. There shouldn’t be any of that nonsense. She likes being able to spoil her best friend’s future child. “I want to. Just humor me, okay? I’m aiming for Auntie of the Year.” She lays all the rest of the outfits on Penny’s sofa.

“It’s true,” Harry adds. “She’s already had the bib made.” Y/n flips him off but is far too delighted by all the pretty patterns to come up with a proper retort. Rather, she tries to sweep Penny into conversation about a real baby shower (and not just the one she’d planned in her head), discussing potential guests and a wish list that she should start setting up on Amazon.

Jared and Penny give each other a look, and the way the former’s jaw tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry but completely goes over Y/n’s head.  

***

“Why don’t you put any of your own work on display?” Harry asks her one day.

“Honestly?” she sighs, “I haven’t actually made anything in...well, almost a decade.”

His jaw drops. “I don’t think I heard you right, a decade?” 

The same amount of time you’ve been gone, she thinks to herself. Of course, now that they’re back to being friends, she would never say it out loud. 

***

Nan had called her up and asked if she and Ava would drive up to Holmes Chapel and help her sort out all the things to donate. They try to visit their grandparents every few months because they are getting to the age where they won’t be around for long. Although, Nan will tell anyone with ears that she’s stronger than she was in her twenties due to her weekly spin classes at the community center. Meanwhile, Gramps is still the same as ever. He still sits in front of the TV and watches highlights of games he’s got recorded on the DV-R, and accidentally knocks over Nan’s petunia’s when he backs the car out of the garage. 

Her childhood bedroom is also how she had left it. Sure, her teenage years had called for a bit of renovation, but underneath posters of her favorite actors and boy bands are the youthful stickers Nan had put up when they had first arrived. 

She rummages through her closet, throwing old clothes in good condition into her donation basket. There are even some that were never worn, and she debates whether she’d be able to use any of it, but ultimately decides against it.  

The top shelf is full of empty shoe boxes and other things she had carelessly thrown up there. Her old sketchbook falls open, face down, at her feet. 

She picks it up and is greeted by the same sketch that had won her first prize in the art show all those years ago when she was fifteen. Her fingers graze over the pencil lines, and it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. She had spent months on this one drawing, and it had turned out to be her greatest piece to date (the actual painting is still being preserved at the school).

“You know, I always thought that boy looked like Anne’s boy,” Nan says nonchalantly. Y/n hadn’t even heard her come in. 

“What?” Y/n stares intently at the paper. “You think so?”

Ava practically skips in. “Oh, gossiping, are we?” She sounds just like Nan. Y/n can’t help the roll of her eyes. 

“I was just telling your sister about how that painting of hers up at the school looks a lot like Harry.”

“Is it not supposed to?” Ava seems genuinely confused. 

“I mean...it wasn’t actually based on anyone in particular,” Y/n says, feeling the need to defend herself. “It was just...something I envisioned in my head.” She turns back to her closet, leaving Nan and Ava to carry on their conversation on her bed. 

Reaching her arm up high, she feels around the shelf until she pokes something soft. When she brings it down, she can’t help but grin. Freddo. She had almost forgotten about him. After Harry had left, she had gone on a bit of a rampage, and any reminder of him had fallen victim to the trash or banishment to the top shelf.

Nan must notice her smile because she comes up and cradles her from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. “It’s funny,” she says, and Y/n looks back at her expectantly. “I also thought that you two would end up together, but I guess I was off by a bit, huh?” She kisses Y/n on the cheek and calls for Ava to follow her downstairs.

Y/n stares at the toy as though it held some sort of secret.

***

She’s lucky she’s home by herself––Jared is off at the pub for his and Sid’s weekly meet-up––because now she has time to unwind and be as antisocial as she wants. Work had been stressful, mostly because the exhibit is set to open next week. And really, all she wants is to be under her favorite blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and just be dead to the world.

Even though she thinks that, however, she can’t help but tap on her phone screen every few minutes. Sure, she likes the time alone, but she also likes being needed. Ava says it’s a control thing, but she really just prefers to be in the know. Lately, Penny’s been spamming her with messages and phone calls about the baby or sometimes it’ll be for a little reassurance. Of course, she’s more than happy to support her. It’s brave of Penny to tackle this alone. The baby’s father is completely out of bounds, so she’s told, and Penny says she’d rather her baby grow up with just a mother than in some dysfunctional setup.

Speaking of dysfunction, she hasn’t been able to properly think straight ever since her visit with Nan. What the elderly woman had told her hadn’t exactly shocked her, per say, but it did have her rethink some of the interactions between her and Harry. It’s ridiculous, really. They’d been best friends since she was eight and he was nine. They know each other’s ins and outs, likes and dislikes, what makes the other laugh and cry. They’re simply comfortable. 

Okay. Maybe there had been times where she thought that the possibility of something more was on the table, but that quickly proved to be all in her imagination. She had her boyfriends and he had his girlfriends. She fell in love with his cousin, and he dated her other best friend. Then he left town.

Then he left.

***

Abandoning her original plans for the night, Y/n finds herself at his door. 

“Hey,” he greets her, but his warm smile falters when he takes note of her appearance. “What’s with the look? Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, she’s too taken by the image of him and the way her heart feels like it might burst from her chest to comprise a full sentence. He doesn’t push her, though. He fishes into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a shapely object wrapped in purple foil. “I-uh, I don’t eat chocolate that much anymore, but they don’t have these in America, so I’ve been snacking on a few of these a week.” It lands itself in her hand. “Just like when we were kids, right?”

It’s a Freddo. A fucking Freddo. Her fingers curl around it.

“You once asked me if I thought that things should’ve been different,” she says. “What did you mean by that?”

Harry doesn’t answer. She tries again.

“Why did you leave, Harry?"

“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She takes one step closer. He evades her eyes, like he’s afraid they’ll speak on their own. Her stomach tightens because it’s all starting to make sense. His words. That embrace. These feelings that have always existed between them. “You left because of me.”

It’s not a question, but a sure statement. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She slides a hand up to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. When he finally does, she’s sees it. And her gut says it’s not the first time. 

It’s heartache. 

She knows because she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. It’s taken her this long to realize it. That hollow feeling that’s been consuming her, it disappeared the day Harry Styles walked back into her life. Once the anger over what he’d done had subsided, she’s felt nothing but joy since. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She wants to scream. 

“You made him happy,” is all he says, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t take that away from him.”

“So, you didn’t even consider how I felt? Harry, I would’ve...would’ve–”

“And that’s why I had to leave!” He wipes both hands down his face in frustration. “We would’ve ended up hurting two people we cared too much about.”

“You don’t know that–”

“If I had tried to kiss you that night, would you have let me?” His gaze bores into her. 

Yes. The voice within her screams it over and over. He must already know her answer because he just smiles sadly at the floor. This is why he had done it. He knew that if he had stayed any longer, it would have only been a matter of time before they gave into each other. 

It makes her sick. 

“I figured if I just took myself out the equation, the rest of you would be spared the heartbreak.” He sighs. “And it worked. You and Jared are about to start a life together, Penny’s got her baby. You’re happy.”

She wants to counter him, but she can’t find the strength. “What about you?” she whispers instead.

He tilts his head to the side. “I came back to prove to myself that I could be happy for you.” His jaw slackens, and he doesn’t continue.

She’s toe to toe with him. “And are you?”

The next thing she knows, her back is against the wall, and her fingers are tangled in his hair. His lips feed her, makes her blood come alive like she’s never lived until now. She kisses him with everything she has. Every drop of anger and every ounce of emotion that burns through her veins. His hands keep her body as close to his as possible, yet, they feel so gentle as they caress her curves like she’s made of glass. It feels so right.

And it shouldn’t. 

Just as sudden as it had started, she pushes him away. He doesn’t fight her. Without another word, she leaves his apartment.

*** When she makes it home, Jared is about to get ready for bed. She drops her clothes to the floor, and his soon follow. They fall onto the bed, his teeth gnawing down her jaw while his hand slides down to cup her heat. He asks her if she’s ready once his member is nudged against her opening. She nods, and he pushes into her, just as he’s done many times before.

She tries her best to focus on how good this should feel to have him inside of her, but the more he moves, the more she feels like this is all a mistake. It feels all too similar to when she had given him her virginity. It happened the night after Harry had skipped town. She was upset and wanted to feel something aside from the pain he had caused her. Jared had been there, and things had soon escalated. But it didn’t feel right. Her heart wasn’t in it, and so her body couldn’t give itself the relief it had been searching for.

It hasn’t felt like that since, or maybe she had gotten better at hiding it, just as she’s done with everything else. She had hoped that sex with Jared would put her mind and her heart back into perspective, but instead, she feels even more helpless.

One kiss with Harry had meant more to her than any of this. It fills her with shame because shouldn’t want to be with anyone except Jared, especially when all he’s ever done is love her. 

She doesn’t realize it’s over until he rolls off her with a content sigh, then stumbles into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, and it’s then she feels the tears start to fill the rim of her eyes. Her thighs clasp together as her humiliation fully sets in. She turns on her side and covers her naked body with the blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed. Jared returns minutes later, mumbling a goodnight. If he has something else to say, he doesn’t. It takes to the count of five for him to drift to sleep. 

***

“I need to cancel the engagement,” she says. Ava gives her a circumspect shrug of the shoulders, like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. Y/n turns to her, hands twiddling the fingers in her lap from stress. “What do you think I should do?”

Ava looks at her, the pity is obvious on her face. “I don’t know, sis.” She rubs her back. “Are you going to tell Jared about you and Harry?”

“I have to.”

***

She doesn’t have the opportunity to talk to Jared until the night of the exhibit opening since he’d been in Spain on a team trip. It’s eating her up, how she hasn’t told him yet, but at least by the end of today she’ll no longer be holding on to something so big. He had promised to come straight to the gallery once he landed back at Heathrow. His flight was set to get in two hours ago, so it’s only a matter of time now. 

More and more people are starting to fill the floor. Most are patrons whom she sees frequently at these events, but there are some new faces mixed in the crowd. She’s lucky that Ava and her grandparents are here to support her, especially when she’ll probably need them afterwards. 

“Hey, don’t look so nervous,” Nan tells her. “The place looks great. You know, I overheard that guy in the red Chanel that he’s interested in buying.” Bless her, Y/n thinks. Nan’s always had a way of diffusing the tension, even when she isn’t aware of it. 

“I’m happy you guys are here,” Y/n says, and she brings her friend in for a hug. 

Nan gives her a confused smile. “Of course, we’re here. We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she proudly declares, and she elbows Gramps in the ribs when he doesn’t contribute. “Honestly, try to look a little alive.”

“I put on a tie, didn’t I?” Gramps rolls his eyes, but then he sends Y/n a wink.  

“Where’s Penelope this evening?” Nan asks, scanning the room, brows furrowing. Y/n feels a sweat break out. She just hopes that Penny will understand when she finds out about her feelings for her ex-boyfriend. It’s been years, sure, but there has to be some kind of friendship code that prohibits this sort of thing. “And where’s that fiancé of yours? He should be here with you.”

“Probably just got stuck in traffic,” Y/n says, but honestly, she’s reveling the extra time she has to prepare.

Nan hooks arms with Ava and Gramps, and they walk the floor while Y/n greets a few of her guests. Her dad is one of them, no surprise there. He pecks her on the side of the head and lets out a perplexed sound as he gazes at all the art. 

“I feel like I should understand this kind of thing by now,” he muses, gesturing to the portrait of naked man made from duct tape and spoons. “Anything after 2003 is lost to me. I just don’t get it.”

“Are you proud of me?” Y/n shocks herself with the question.

Matthew looks stunned himself. “Why would you ask something like that? You know that I am.” He pulls her aside, so they have a little more privacy. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?” There’s worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she appeases, “I just wanted to hear it.” Her dad doesn’t respond but hugs her tight. They stay like that for a moment, she’s always felt safe in his arms, until she feels them loosen around her. She looks up at him, his look somewhere else. When she follows it, her heart skips a beat.

“Harry!” Matthew takes his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t seen you in a full two hours!” 

The younger man lets out a slight chuckle. “It’s been unbearable. I just can’t keep away.” He turns to her. “Congratulations.” 

A nod is all she can afford. 

Matthew looks between the two of them, and their situation feels almost familiar. He coughs into his hand and excuses himself as he chases a waiter down the west wing. 

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. 

She purses her lips to the side. There’s so much she wants to say to him, but she’s afraid of what she might do. 

Against her better judgement, she leads him into her office. She leaves the door open behind her in the off chance that things intensify. She doesn’t need any more guilt on her plate. (But she wishes he wasn’t wearing such a properly fit suit. It’s far too distracting for the seriousness of the situation.)

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, she waits for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was both our doing,” she stresses. If you asked her who had kissed who first, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. “We just...got caught up in the moment.” I let my heart dictate my actions.

He looks hurt by her words but doesn’t press her on it. “I should’ve stopped it. I always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you, and when it happened, I...” He shakes his head, and she’s thankful that he’ll never finish that sentence. She’s already heard it in her mind. Hearing out loud would cause both of them too much agony.

“I know,” she rasps. “I can’t stand here and say that I didn’t want it, but–”

“you don’t want to hurt him.” She smiles appreciatively, though, sadly. In another life, maybe they would have a chance. This one doesn’t have a place for them. Even if she ends things with Jared, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’re family. She could never start anything with Harry without him getting hurt. It’s a matter of acceptance now. 

This must have been what Harry had been feeling when he had left. As much as it hurts to remember, she thinks she at least understands it better. 

“I need air,” she says, not wanting to entertain those thoughts further, “join me?” She grabs her phone from her desk. It’s getting late, and she’s starting to worry about Jared. 

They leave her office and start towards the back door that some of her staff use when they want a smoke. She usually avoids it for that reason, but it was getting too stuffy in there. Her lungs will forgive her if she takes this one moment to herself. Her screen unlocks, and just as she’s about to press on her fiancé’s name, Harry pushes the door open and she looks up as the evening breeze brushes her face and then...

“What the hell is this?” She drops her phone to the ground. 

Jared and Penny pull away from each other, but the space between them is nearly nonexistent. The latter meets her with scared eyes that soon begin to fill up. One hand covers her mouth as she chokes on a sob or maybe even fear, while the other clasps over her swollen belly. Y/n’s eyes drift down to it. It clicks. 

“Y/n...” Jared starts, he’s breathing heavily. “Let me–”

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me his name,” she says shakily. It’s directed at Penelope. “You couldn’t tell me because it was him.” The night Penelope had come over unannounced after her alleged date cancellation at the same time Jared had cancelled his own plans. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing.” And that’s exactly what she had done, and right under her nose. They’d have been sneaking around behind her back for months.

“We d-didn’t mean for it to get this far...” Penny tries to explain, she steps out from behind Jared’s shadow. The usually confident blonde has lost several inches of height. She says something else, but it’s like Y/n’s just drowned out all the noise. Her eyes still haven’t left Penelope’s stomach. 

She wants to hate her. She should hate her. But she’s just an innocent victim caught in her parents’ web of lies. Then she grits her teeth at Jared. How far he’s fallen from the pedestal she’d put him on. Now she’s certain that she had inflated his image in her spiraling guilt for having feelings for another man. To think that only minutes ago she was about to plead for his forgiveness for kissing Harry, when all this time he’d been fucking her closest friend. 

“Jared,” his name weighs like venom on her tongue, “I want you out of the apartment by tonight.”

She just runs. Down the alleyway, ignoring all the calls of her name behind her. Harry’s voice is by far the loudest. There’s a thud, followed by a scream. However tempted she is to look back, her legs have developed a mind of their own and lead her towards the busy sidewalk. The bright streetlights burn her eyes, but she doesn’t stop.

She keeps going until she finds the first empty cab. Getting in without a second to hesitate, she closes the door and tells the man behind the wheel to just go. 

“Where to?” he asks her. Her first instinct is to go home and lock herself in her room, but she realizes that she’ll probably have to confront Jared again, and that’s not going to happen. Her second and third options are still at the gallery, completely oblivious to all the night’s revelations. There’s just one other person on that list, so Y/n gives the driver the address. 

***

It takes less than twenty minutes for her to end up in front of a building with bright blue doors and window panels to match. She climbs the steps, one wobbly footstep at a time, but only hesitating once. Her knuckles curl at her sides, until lifting them up to knock against the heavy wood. Light from inside peeks through the curtains.

A woman appears in the open threshold, that faint light from inside creating a halo around her figure. She looks unreal, like something straight out of a storybook. Her ethereal face just as kind as Y/n remembers. It’s the most immaculate she’s ever been. 

Y/n feels herself lose the battle with the emotions she had managed to keep on leash from just one look from her. 

With a whimper, her mouth struggle with the words. “Hi, Mum.”

***

Grace sets her up in the guest room and supplies her with a cup of tea and biscuits. As she’s setting it down on the bedside table, Y/n can’t help but take note of her appearance. It’s been nearly twenty years since she had last seen her mother, but why is that she’s never looked younger? Her eyes no longer have the eternal vacancy that had highlighted her once slack expression. 

She looks happy. 

“Thank god I did the shopping earlier this week, huh?” Grace muses, opening up a new pack of biscuits. Each word to leave her lips feels smooth against her ears. “I’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth in my old age.” Y/n doesn’t know if she appreciates her efforts to make conversation, but it does give her time to think about what exactly she wants to say. 

They drink their tea in hushed sips, like they’re afraid that any loud slurping might cause some offence. Y/n stares down into the contents of her cup, annoyed that it’s the perfect color. A part of her had wished that she could find something to fault her with. 

“So,” Grace hums, tapping melodically on the porcelain in her hands. “You want to tell me why you’re here?”

Y/n barely lifts her head as her hands strangle the air with frustrated rigidness. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to become you.” From her decision to follow her dad’s wishes, to keeping appearances for a relationship that she now knows was destined for destruction, she’d made every choice for everyone else. 

Grace doesn’t respond, but her mouth parts with a staggered breath. 

“I wanted to believe that I was happy. I wanted to do what you never did because I didn’t want to hurt the people I was supposed to love.” All the years she’d never confronted these feelings have ultimately resulted to this. “You broke us,” she says, staring her directly in the eyes. “You ruined every image I had of love.” The anxiousness that had put her through hell had to come from this. The truth is, she couldn’t break it off with Jared because she didn’t want to hurt him in the same way that her mother had hurt her dad. That’s it. She ignored every gut feeling that told her it wasn’t right because of the bitterness she felt towards her mother.   

“The choices we make aren’t genetic,” Grace says softly.

“Aren’t they, though?” she shrieks. She bounces to her feet and paces in front of the bed. “Penelope’s mother was the other woman, and now Penelope is pregnant with my fiancé’s baby! You ran away from your family because you couldn’t forget him.” 

By that, she means her mother’s new husband, the one she had left them for. It had been during her last year at university that Y/n had discovered the truth. He had been her professor for her art history class. She recognized him from a picture she had once seen in her mother’s jewelry box. She just hadn’t put two and two together until then. “And I...I can’t forget the person I’ve loved since I was eight. What makes us different, Mum?”

Grace holds her chin close to her body. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But tell me this. Why haven’t you planned your wedding?”

This causes Y/n’s pacing to cease. She stands at her mother’s knees, blinking rapidly. “How would you know anything that goes on with me?”

Her mother stands up as well. They’re about the same height.  

“I know it’ll make never make up for what I did but believe me. I’ve never stopped trying to be in your lives...even if it was from afar.” Her hand is shaking as she reaches up to cup Y/n’s cheek so she can wipe away her tears. “I was there when you won all your art shows back in school. I was there when you graduated university.” She’s crying her own tears now. “And I was excited for you when you got engaged three years ago.” 

Y/n doesn’t let herself give in. She pulls away. “It was supposed to be a long engagement.”

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Grace looks at her pointedly. Y/n’s bottom lip starts to quiver. Her mother grasps her by the shoulders. “Maybe that’s what makes you different from me. You stopped pretending before it was too late, you just hadn’t realized it.”

“Is that supposed to make me a good person?” Y/n challenges. 

“No,” Grace answers honestly, but she sighs with a small smile. “But it makes you a better person than me.”

***

She doesn’t recall ever falling asleep, but she can still feel her mother’s hand stroking her hair as she had laid her head on the pillow. The morning sun shines through the curtains of the unfamiliar room and greet her with slithers of light by her feet. Waking up here feels strange, but she’s experienced comfort that she hasn’t felt in so long.

The rug-lined steps make little to no sound as she makes her way downstairs. From the bottom, she can hear two voices talking in hushed tones from the kitchen. One is unmistakably her mothers, while the other is deep and manly. She isn’t sure how to make approach them, suddenly feeling self-conscious for having intruded. But soon enough, her mum catches sight of her and invites her to take the stool beside her. Y/n walks in, passing her mother’s husband, who smiles kindly at her. She had liked him as a professor before she had found about his private life.

“Good morning,” Grace says. “Lawrence’s just been to the bakery.” She pushes a box full of a variety of goodies. “Eat as much as you want.”

Y/n picks up a croissant and gingerly pulls it apart. She avoids how her mother and her husband gage in her every movement. 

“Did you sleep well?” It’s Lawrence who asks her. She nods. Lawrence and her mother share a look, and through their eyes they seem to converse. It reminds her a lot of how she and Harry had always been able to tell what the other was thinking without having to verbalize. Lawrence finishes up his cup of coffee, then circles around the island and kisses his wife on the cheek. “I’m just going to pop to the store,” he says. She catches the back of his head before he disappears. 

“I thought you said you had just done the shopping?” Y/n asks her mother. The older woman shrugs, continuing to pick at her breakfast. Oh. She sees that there’s apparently more to talk about. Y/n does in fact have a few more questions she wants to ask, if anything more than to talk to someone who knows what she’s going through. She takes a deep breath. “Are you happy?” The words feel awkward as they leave her mouth. Grace looks at her, questioningly. She nods towards the door. “With him?”

“Yes.” 

Y/n’s heart breaks for her father. 

“He’s my best friend,” Grace says dreamily. “I’ve known him all my life. Loved him about the same.” Y/n feels goosebumps startle her skin.

“So,” Y/n treads cautiously, “was he worth it?”

“There are things that I would have done differently when it came to you and your sister, given the chance,” her mother sighs, but when she looks at her with those eyes that are so full of light and what she guesses must only be love, Y/n gets it. “But otherwise I’d choose him all over again.”

***

She knocks impulsively on his front door, not caring if his new neighbors think she’s out of her mind insane. Her limbs are tight with anticipation, especially when she hears the scuffle of feet against well-polished hardwood. Harry stands in the open doorway dressed in a white t-shirt and black joggers, and an adorably confused look floating in his sleepy eyes. But when he registers her before him, it’s like he’d been hit by lightning and suddenly jolted awake.

“Has anything changed?” she asks, almost pleadingly. He just stares at her, frustrating her already exhausted nerves. She hadn’t come all this way after a rollercoaster of a night to not get an answer. “Am I...Am I still all that’s in...” And rests her hand where his heart is.

Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.” 

And no words have ever made her cry out of shear joy. She laughs, or maybe it’s more of a wet giggle, before throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a scorching kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this one is filled solely with everything they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel. He nips on her bottom lip, and her mouth parts and welcomes his tongue to explore every unchartered inch. He grasps her both her thighs and carries her to his bedroom. 

She can’t believe she’s gone this long without knowing his touch. Every movement of against her skin, and every exploration of forbidden pleasure makes her stomach coil and beg for more. He lays her down on his bed, his body hovering over hers like he’s afraid she might slip away. 

He leans in a little lower, and she gasps when she feels him hard against her hip. “We don’t have to do anything,” he gulps, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that–” but he doesn’t get to finish because she shuts him up with the fire in her eyes. She loves him for everything he is, even when he’s being selfless to a fault. 

“We’ve waited too long for this,” she breathes against his lips. “Let’s choose us.” 

A low throaty moan surges from of her as he grinds himself against her, sending currents of electrifying energy down to her aching entrance. Her mind becomes cloudier with his every caress. His hot breath against her longing flesh only intensifies her need.

“Please,” she begs, fingers working on the hem of his shirt. “I want you. God, please I want to feel you.” 

He chuckles softly as she whines, pecking her again. “Patience, love,” he teases. His lips glide down to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her inflamed body. “Show me where you want me.” 

Taking reign of his hand and guiding down the front of her front, she smirks at him. His pants become unbelievably tight as she lets him linger over her chest, her head falling back when the warmth of his hand flicks over her pebbled nipple. “You want me between your pretty little tits? Is that what my girl wants?” His girl. Nothing in this moment could sound so perfect than the words to have just left his lips. It’s enough for her to want to bring him in for another impassioned kiss, but she restrains, shaking her head mischievously as he squeezes gently on her breast. She leads him further down, his palm sliding down her abdomen. 

“Here.” She slots her fingers through the spaces between his and their tips graze the base of her dress, toying with the flimsy material until finally slipping beneath. He groans as his skin comes into contact with her pussy emanating all that delicious heat.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She rubs against him just enough for him to feel her center through her panties, and he swears to her that he might come then and there. Wasting no time, she pulls his shirt over her head, only breaking their kiss to appreciate all the tattoos on his sculpted chest. When she’d seen them before, it had only been for a quick few seconds, and she’d been far too flustered to take anything more than a peek. But now she can’t help herself, and she lets her fingers dance across the ink, the point of her nails tracing over the edge of every design. She spends the most time on the moth, or maybe it’s a butterfly, she couldn’t say. 

All she knows is that something about it makes her feel at peace, like she’ll always be safe as long as he's there beside her. She tears her eyes away from his chest to find him looking at her as though she were everything that’s right with the world. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and she just beams, eyes looking back at him with such sincerity. 

He kisses the side of her mouth before descending along her body He takes his time, his lips pressing over every possible inch of her, leaving no surface neglected. Where his hands had been prior, he takes an erect mound in his mouth, tongue swirling around in through its covering. Each touch leaves her breathless, her back arching in intense anticipation the further down he goes. When his nose nudges at the bottom of her skirt, she lets out another frustrated whine, and he chuckles softly at how her abdomen sucks in as the stubble on his chin prickles goosebumps across her skin. 

“Please, just. . .” and the final remains of her inhibitions drain from the tips of her fingers and toes. “I want your cock inside me.” 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” And he tears her dress from her body and pulls her panties down her silky legs, leaving her completely bare before his eyes. From a pale green, the color of his irises darkens with a fierce and pounding desire. It sends vibrations down to her pussy and all she wants is for him to bury his face in her dripping arousal. She bites harshly on her lip once he licks between her slick folds. “So sweet,” he mutters, his lips slipping through the barriers to find her sensitive little nub. “I could just stay here forever.”

“Harry. . .” she gasps, fisting the sheets as her hips lift off the mattress. “It feels so good.” Her legs hang over his shoulders as he encourages her to ride his face until she’s begging to release all over his tongue. “Oh god, don’t stop.” 

One of his long fingers that had been drawing small little circles on the inner part of her thigh smooths over her damp skin until it forges its way into her glistening heat. The other hand moves down his own figure, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding past the waistband of his boxers. 

As the knot in her stomach twists with tremendous force, it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. He inserts another finger, the two digits piston in and out of her, working harmoniously with his skilled mouth. She screams out, her back arching to an almost impossible degree. It all becomes too much for her, bursts of light flashing behind her eyelids.  

“I’m gonna come,” she moans, cheek pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut tightly to welcome the stars as she lets go with cacophonous convulsions. 

“That’s my good girl, come all over my tongue. That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He climbs back up her body, a content smile awaiting him when their faces become level with each other. Another exchange of ardent kisses, and she feels herself tingle at the taste of her on his lips. Even after her orgasm, she already craves for another, but this time she wants nothing more but to feel him stuffed inside of her. She wraps a leg around his hip, the edge of her foot pressed against the side of his ass as she presses her core into his bulge. 

“I need to be inside of you.” He leaps off the bed to push off the last pieces of constrictive clothing. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip and just desperate for her amorous touch. 

And he’s big, she had always had an inkling, but to see it in the flesh is a whole new sensation quivering between her thighs. “It’s so big,” her thoughts become vocalized. 

With his knees back onto the bed, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down lower, his elbows planking on either side of her. “Feel how hard I am for you?” He hisses as her warm hand wraps around him, her thumb swiping along a dribble of precum. She lathers him in his own arousal. “Think you can handle my cock?” 

She’s completely in awe, and her mind runs untamed with fantasies of how it would feel hitting that special spot deep in her cunt, every rigid vein carving its impression in her walls. “You know I can,” she dares him. 

“Fuck.” He kisses her deeply, his hand taking ahold of his cock and glazing it with the remnants of her last climax and gliding just between her wet folds.  “One last time–” he swallows hard as he pulls away from his lips, “–are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I...”

Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding worth more than any spoken language as she cups his cheeks. 

The entire length of him slides into her tight hole until he bottoms out, his balls pressing against her taut ass. She feels undeniably full, never having experienced such exhilaration in her life as Harry’s bare cock stretches her out completely. 

“Just slid right in,” he grunts, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. He bites down and sucks greedily on the spot until he’s made his mark. She gasps in mild pain, but it feels too good to know that she can finally be his. He pulls all the way out, before slamming back in with ease, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her walls flutter around him. “It feels like you were made for me” She feels marvelously tight, squeezing him for all he’s worth. All she can do is nod, her voice caught in her throat as his thrusts become harder and faster.  “It’s all mine now, your pussy, your lips. You’re all mine.” 

“I’m yours, all yours, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “God, your big cock feels so good in my tight pussy.” Nails dig into his back as they run down and carve crescents into his flexed and sweaty muscles. 

They move flawlessly in sync as she rises up to greet his every thrust with just as much excitement and fervor. Both their bodies are on fire, a pressure building up at their very core and threatening to unravel at any moment. His balls tighten, and he knows he won’t last for much longer. He looks down between them, his cock completely soaked with her with the most sinful sounds resonating whenever he pushes in and out of her delightful heat. “I love you,” he breathes into her ear, his fingers indenting into the plush of her hips. He loses any sense of rhythm he might have started out with, his movements becoming more and more urgent as he chases after his high. 

“I love you.” Her second orgasm fast approaches, she feels it thrill every one of her nerves as though currents of electricity were running through her veins. She’s so close, and her hand slips between their sweaty chests to rub desperately on her clit. Her head is spinning with an aspiration to reach the brink of ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock,” he pleads as he pushes into her with incredible force. “Want to feel you come around me.”

And that’s it for her. A wave of pleasure crashes over her and she cries out with a high-pitched moan. Her legs hugging him so tightly that he barely manages to move. She rides it out, rolling her hips to feel him continuously poke that special spot. Soon enough, her mind is on a cloud, the rest of her body soaking up the bliss of the moment.

His movements only become more erratic, and the breath leaves her body once he releases inside of her. Hot white ribbons shoot out and paint her walls with the image of a sensational love. It warms her center, her lips turning up in a lazy smile as he remains within her even after the final drop has left his tip. Once they’re heaving chests calm to a natural pace, he collapses on top of her, arms willing their way between her and the mattress to gather her into a tender embrace. She scratches the back of his head and sighs contently.  

“To think we could’ve been doing that for,” and she counts the years on each one of her fingers.

Harry chuckles in between her breasts, then reaches up and plants a quick but sweet kiss to her lips. “How long are you going to be holding onto that one?” She pretends to think, her mouth quirking to the side as her brows furrow in contemplation. “Until we make up for all that wasted time.” 

***

“I got you something.” She looks up at him, her body still wrapped in his arms as they lay naked in his bed. Memories of what feels like another life flip through her head.

“Is this what déjà vu feels like?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?” 

Smiling, she kisses enthusiastically and nods her head. He gets up, and she has to stop herself from frowning when they lose all contact. She sinks into the sheets and waits impatiently for him to come back. Listening to him rummage through his closet, then to the growling of her tummy–and she makes a quick mental note to ask him to order something for them in a while––she tries to relive every detail from the last few hours in her head. She didn’t know that sex was supposed to feel so good.

“You told me that you hadn’t drawn in almost ten years,” he states, making his way back to the bed, but this time, with a bag clutched in his hands. He places it in her lap, then slips between her and the headboard, arms going back to their initial position. “Maybe it’s time you started back up.”

Y/n opens the enclosed wrappings. Inside the bag is a new sketchbook and a carton of 9H pencils. She carefully grazes her fingers above them. There’s a feeling in her chest, like she’s just been reunited with an old friend. 

“But what would I even draw?” She’d lost all sight of that part of her life, and it seems unlikely that those creative juices will just come trickling back to her now. 

Harry kisses the side of her head, and she leans into him easily.

“Whatever inspires you.” 

It’s just that easy. She closes her eyes and reflects on what has always made her feel any bit positive. Ava and her bluntness; her dad and his sense of duty to his family; Nan and Gramps and their playful bickering; Nan and her proclivity for gossip; Gramps and his hatred for ties. All of them had been a comfort to her, even when she hadn’t realized it. They were part of what had kept her afloat.

Feeling Harry’s heartbeat press up against her back, she knows that she’ll never have to worry about drowning. She opens her sketchbook to its first clean page and lets herself be happy. 

***

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Jared says, offering her a modest grin. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to.” Penny nods beside him. Jared had texted her and asked if she would meet them for lunch, so that they could talk. At first, Y/n didn’t think that necessary. What was the point when it was all out in the open now? But with some convincing from Harry, she realized that she had to confront this.

“There’s no moving on if we don’t talk about it.” Y/n takes the seat across from Penny. She looks at the girl she’d consider a sister, studying her rounded and healthier features. Pregnancy looks good on her. “You look good.” 

Penny smiles thankfully. “So do you.”

They talk about everything, even the stuff that feels like it should hurt. But it doesn’t. Clarity exists where it hadn’t before. She tells them that about Harry, and apparently it isn’t much of a shock to anyone, which shocks her. Jared then admits to having had all these doubts about their relationship but had stuck through it because of his own insecurities. That had had hit close to home for Y/n. It’s somewhat of a relief that she hadn’t been the only one who felt that what they had was temperamental. 

“You were there for me when I was at my worst, and for that, I’ll always love you,” Jared sighs, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “But...”

“That’s all we were meant to be.”

He nods sadly, pulling back. His other arm is around Penny’s chair, and Y/n can see his fingers playing with the ends of her ponytail. 

Penny must notice this, and she quickly shrugs him away. “Sorry,” she mutters.  

Y/n shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she waves it off. “This was good. At least now we can all carry on with our lives.” She gets out of her chair. “Good luck,” she says to the both of them. Then she looks directly at Penny. “I know you’re worried about making all the same mistakes as your mum, but...” she smiles, “someone said to me that mistakes aren’t genetic. I know you. And I know how much you love your baby. Just promise me you’ll be there for her.”

With that she turns towards the exit. Before she can get far, however, she feels a hand grab her own. She looks back, and it’s Penny. Her eyes are teary, and her chest lifts erratically. “Do you think that...” she swallows, “...that you’ll ever forgive me?”

“Do I still get to be called auntie?” 

Penny lets out a stifled giggle. “Yes.”

Y/n touches her comfortingly on the shoulder. “Then, one day.”

She walks out of there feeling completely at peace with herself.

***

Two Years Later

The newest exhibit proves to be a hit. It’s smaller than its predecessors, this time only containing the work from a single artist. 

She and Harry walk hand-in-hand, greeting all of guests and just enjoying each other’s company. Gramps isn’t moping as much as he usually does, and she thinks it’s because Nan’s bought him a clip-on tie that doesn’t strangle him around the neck. Ava and Nan are gossiping with some potential investors, while her dad tries to apologize on their behalf. 

On the other side, her mum and Lawrence discuss color theory in relation to one of the spotlight pieces. She catches a glimpse of the civility between her parents when they catch each other’s eyes from across the room. 

“I think it’s the gallery’s best showcase yet,” Harry tells her and kisses her on the lips. “Really, I don’t see how anything might top this.”

Y/n laughs. “You’re just trying to get laid.”

Harry wags his eyebrows. “Is it working?” She doesn’t need to give him an answer with words, so instead, she pulls him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips meet in another sweet kiss. 

They stop in front of the piece in the very back, the one that’s drawn in the most viewers. They squeeze through the polluted crowd until they’re close enough to the front. He wraps his arms around her, and they both admire its beauty. 

Two kids laid out on the grass; eyes closed with content smiles on their faces. The sky above them, a product of their combined imaginations as well as the excitement of hopes and dreams. 

Below the canvas is a placcard with the painting’s information. 

Y/n Styles, Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies.

***

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

#harry styles #harry style imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles au #one direction #writing

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could we get this time an Eduardo x Reader x Edd fighting for the reader during PowerEdd?

Funny how I saw this after I re-watched that Eddisode XD I went the platonic route bc I think it's more amusing to see them fight for Reader's friendship

.......

"Holy shi-"

As you swerved the car, narrowly missing the crashed vehicle in front of you, that's when you realized it was Tom's. You hit the brakes and got out to investigate why it was flipped over.

But you noticed Matt was inside, so you rushed over and knelt down by the broken window. "Matt! You okay?!"

Fortunately, he wasn't badly hurt as he opened his eyes, grinning upon seeing you. You were one of the friendlier neighbors, thank goodness.

"I'm alright, [y/n]!" He said as you helped wriggle him free from the car wreckage. "Is my face alright, though?"

"It is, don't worry. Now-"

"Oh look!!" He pointed to the sky, and you followed his gaze. You could see two men in green costumes fighting each other, throwing kicks, punches, and energy beams. It was like something straight out of an action film.

"Damn that's crazy. But where's Tom and Edd?" You looked back at Matt, confused.

"Ah..funny story." He began. "Edd got these crazy-awesome superpowers! But so did Eduardo...and he destroyed the bacon, cola, and cotton factories so Edd brought us here to fight him! Though he threw the car at Eduardo and then he punched Tom-"

"Wait, wait..you mean to tell me that's Edd and Eduardo in the sky?"

"Yeah!"

"And they're gonna kill each other..."

"It's cool, right?! Let's get a selfie-!!" But when Matt looked over, you had disappeared, instead running over to where the two men were still fighting.

Eduardo had slammed Edd into the concrete, shouting that he'll be "coming in second place" as he manifested a massive energy ball. But before he could throw it, you called out to him.

"Eduardo!! Stop!"

With a groan, Edd opened his eyes, surprised but relieved to see you arrive just in time. "[Y/n]! You made it-!"

"Oh no..don't even TRY it," Eduardo spat, scowling at his rival. "You always get everything you want!! I won't let you have them!!"

"Are you listening to me?! What's this all about?"

He turned to you, the energy ball in his hands shrinking significantly as he frowned. "You may hate me for this, and I'm sorry, but...I promised you I'd be numero uno someday!! I've had enough of being second place. The laughing stock!! I'm DONE!!"

At first you didn't know what "promise" he was talking about, but then....you remembered something from long ago:

~Flashback~

Despite your art project coming in third place, you weren't too upset. In fact, you were quite proud of it as you admired it on the easel.

Your other classmates left a few minutes ago, taking theirs home: Tord drew a giant red robot, Tom made a big purple monster, Matt painted a mirror with him in its reflection, and Edd hugged his sloppily-drawn superhero persona, grinning as he bragged about being "number one".

Hearing a sob, you turned around to see Eduardo crying in the corner of the classroom. As you walked over, you frowned upon seeing his duck painting on the floor and decided to put it back on the easel.

You're the only one who didn't taunt him for coming in second place, whereas everyone else did. It was wrong and mean; you didn't think it was fair for the teacher to suddenly give Edd first place, either.

"Hey, um.." You began, crouching down in front of the sobbing boy. "I got third place if it helps..you did better than me."

"B-But I wanted first!!" He looked up at you with a face full of snot and tears. "Edd always gets first! It's not fair! I just wanna be better than him.."

"Well...I liked your drawing best."

Eduardo sniffled in response, wiping his nose. "R-Really?"

You nodded and put your arms out, offering him a hug. "I'm sorry everyone teased you. You deserved first place."

However, he seemed wary of your intentions, as he just frowned and hugged his knees. "Wh-Why did you stay? You're always walking home with Edd."

"I couldn't leave knowing my best friend would be all alone and sad."

He blinked in astonishment. "I-I'm..your best friend?"

"Yeah! He's just a friend, so..you're first place in my friendships." You reassured him.

Now your words finally got through to him. He grinned from ear-to-ear and accepted your hug. "Thanks, mi amigo..I-I promise I'll be better than him someday!"

~Flashback End~

Eduardo seemed to remember as well, as he rubbed the tears from his eyes and growled. "And today's that day!" His hair became neon green.

"You helped me at my lowest point, [y/n]..and I never forgot that. So join me and we'll put that loser of a neighbor in his place--second place, that is!" He laughed evilly, levitating off the ground.

You looked past him and towards Edd, who was wiping the blood from his mouth. It was clear that his strength was waning, and you were merely giving him time to recharge.

But the realization hit you: the reason why they were always fighting, even before superpowers entered the picture.

It was because of you and the simple fact that you befriended them both. Maybe Edd was angrier at the destroyed factories that produced his favorite things, but Eduardo couldn't comprehend you being friends with his rival.

Only you could stop this from escalating into something catastrophic.

"You don't have to prove anything."

"..huh?" Eduardo's glowing hair faded back to normal as he stared down at you, confused.

"I know we kinda drifted apart over the years but..you're still my best friend. Edd hasn't taken your place at all." You smiled. "Honestly you're both pretty cool and it'd suck if I lost either of you."

Edd overheard your words, as he emerged from the crater and flew over to you. He bumped into his still-perplexed rival. "You really mean that, [y/n]?"

"I do. So c'mon guys, enough's enough. Killing each other just to get my attention isn't the way. There's nothing you gotta prove to me."

"I...." Eduardo lowered himself to the ground. "I'm still numero uno in your friendships? Even after all this time?"

"Yes, you're-"

However you were cut off by a loud roar, and you yelped in surprise as a giant one-eyed monster leaped down in front of you three. It seemed confused by the lack of fighting between Edd and Eduardo.

The two took your yelp as a scream of terror and looked at each other for a moment. Then together they manifested one giant beam that blasted the monster into the sky, far away from you.

But that was apparently the last of their energy reserves, as their costumes disappeared, switching back to normal civilian clothing.

Eduardo seemed dazed, and you let him lean on you for support. "Ugh..you okay?"

"Yeah." You chuckled, glad to see them both working together for once, before noticing Edd was still floating in the air.

He noticed Eduardo lost his powers and was about to laugh at him, though your scowl silenced him quickly. Eventually he lost his powers, too, as a bee startled him, sending him to the ground.

"I'll admit..you did deserve first place. My drawing sucked.." He told his neighbor, who looked at him in surprise.

You just smiled. How ironic that an ordinary person like you saved the day.

"Now..how about we settle this over some cola and diet cola?"

#also eduardo is becoming one of my new faves #ehehe #clanask #anonymous #eddsworld x reader #ew edd x reader #ew eduardo x reader

[nhlandotherimagines]

I Want -Matthew Tkachuk

@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 

I’m so sorry this is sooo late I’ve been super busy lately! I also feel like in an attempt to make this one really good for my boy Matty, I ended up totally overwriting it??

Anyway I hope it’s not too bad! Here we go with blurb number 9 of the Up All Night series! There is some strong language and some angst in here for sure, so fair warning!

Give you this, give you that, blow a kiss, take it back. If I looked inside your brain. I would find lots of things, clothes, shoes, diamond rings. Stuff that's driving me insane!

Matthew wasn’t one to use Instagram much. Sure he posted sometimes and kept up with his teammates and family, but he wasn’t one to read too much into what others posted. That is until he started dating you.

The two of you haven’t been together very long, and you are certainly far from Instagram official, so why was Matthew currently scrolling through your Instagram almost obsessively? Honestly, even he wasn’t sure. Though as he scrolls past each photo, slowly creeping farther into your past, he begins to notice a trend. Every photo staged to perfection, makeup done, hair done, and somewhere in each photo is at least one designer item. A handbag, watches, shoes, sunglasses, even one with a sports cars. Name any big brand, and Matthew is sure he could find it in a picture on your page.

Not a single photo was of you looking like the real you. None contained any of your family and friends. A couple photos included boys who evidently had money, who Matthew was left to assume were boyfriends. It was in that moment a switch flipped for him.

For the next few weeks Matthew chooses to say nothing about it, instead he watches you. Watches how different you are depending who is around. Nights in Matthews apartment included sweat pants, hoodies and takeout. Nights out with the teammates and their wives means hours of getting ready. Over the top outfits, heels that Matthew is sure will break your neck, and way too much makeup for his liking, but again Matthew says nothing and lets you do your thing.

Tonight though Matthew decided it was time the two of you went out on a date. Like actually go out. Until now he had wanted to keep things more private and intimate, so you wouldn’t be subjected to the media and fans. Tonight, is a big step for your relationship in Matthew’s mind.

You could be preoccupied, different date, every night, you just got to say the word.

“Wow! Matty this place is so fancy!” You gushed as he led you to the table, his big hand low on your back. Classical music was playing so softly you could hardly hear it over the voices and utensils clanging. A beautiful chandelier is hung just inside the entrance, the lights are dimmed slightly making the candles on each table that much more romantic. This place is perfect.

Matthew just smiles at you in agreement as he pulls out your chair for you. Your cheeks heat up slightly as you take your seat. Matthew takes the seat across from you, quietly thanking the hostess as she sets the menus in front of you both. You take a moment to once again admire your surroundings. “It’s beautiful!” You mutter breathlessly, more to yourself than anyone in particular.

“Yeah.” Matthew sighs in content. When you look back to him you realize he’s looking at you with a grin on his face. Embarrassed by his gaze, you drop your head and begin scanning the menu. Just as you expected, the prices are absolutely outrageous.

When the waiter comes, he looks at you expectantly, and politely asks you what you’d like to order. You order some chicken based dish you have never heard of, and the waiter jots it down. Matthew orders a bottle of your favourite wine, and a pasta dish for himself, handing over both menus to the waiter. As the waiter turns to leave he sends you a wink, informing you he’d be back momentarily with your wine.

Matthew chuckles at you as your cheeks heat up. “Can you believe this guy?” His smirk and teasing tone quickly giving away the action hadn’t affected him. “Hitting on my date, and he thinks I’m going to tip him for that?”

Matthew’s smirk widens into a smile at the laughter he manages to pull from you. You love how sure Matthew is of himself, not at all intimidate by the waiter’s ‘advances’. Most guys you have dated previously would feel insecure, and maybe even lash out. Not Matt though. Instead Matt jokes about not tipping, and though you haven’t known him long, you know he will tip. And he will tip well.

After a few moments of small talk about your respective weeks, the waiter is once again at your side. This time with your wine as he pours you and Matthew both a glass. The waiter’s eyes hardly leave your body while he asks if either of you need anything else. You are to preoccupied adjusting the bracelet on your wrist to even notice. The bracelet is a gift from Matthew, an expensive one at that.

As the waiter walks away, you pull out your cellphone and punch in the passcode. The smile Matthew had been sporting quickly falls. Matthew assumes you are texting, or maybe you are just bored, but either way it hurts.

“Could you take a picture of me for Instagram?” The smile on your face so sweet and innocent, Matthew almost thinks nothing of it. Almost. You want him to take a photo of you on your very first public date together to post on Instagram. Just of you.

Perhaps he is thinking too much into it, but it feels like a slap in the face to Matthew. The two of you dress up so he can take you out for the first time. Making you both ‘official’ to the world in Matthew’s eyes. He takes this huge step that to some seems like nothing, so he hoped that in return you may want to post it on your Instagram for all to see. This however, is not what he meant. Maybe a nice picture of you both. Maybe his arm around your waist holding you close, maybe his lips pressed to your temple as you beam your beautiful smile at the camera, or maybe even the both of you laughing at something stupid he said. Instead Matthew is behind the camera now, taking picture after picture of you. All perfectly staged. The wine bottle placed so that the label is on full display, your face resting gently in your hand ensuring the bracelet is in frame, and of course you look absolutely stunning.

But you're not into them at all, you just want materials. I should know because I've heard when girls say, I want, I want, I want, but that's crazy! I want, I want, I want, and that's not me! I want, I want, I want, to be loved by you

The date goes by painfully slow for Matthew. He feels trapped. After the realization that you are not as interested in him as a person as he once thought, the mood shifts. Somehow though, the awkwardness that surrounds the table completely eludes you as you eat your dinner.

———

“Everything okay Matt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He’s barely spoken to you since you left the restaurant, and now he seems to be moping beside you on his couch as he scrolls through his phone. He rolls his eyes in response leaning his head against the back of the couch.

“Why are you here?” The question catches you completely off guard. You watch Matthew closely, as his gaze focuses on the ceiling above him, never once sparing you even a glance.

“W-well we went on a date and I just figured, but I can- I can go?” You manage to stumble out a response, as embarrassment courses through you.

“No honestly Y/n.” His voice is sharp. He’s mad, and you’ve never seen him like this. “Is it the money or the clout?” The annoyance is clear in his voice, but if it weren’t, the icy stare he shoots you next certainly gets that point across.

“What!?” You feel completely blindsided by his accusations. “Matthew why would you even think that?”

“Oh jeez! Hmm I don’t know! Let’s see shall we.” The sarcasm dripping from his words as he unlocks his phone tilting the screen towards you. As you look at it, you realize it’s your Instagram page. “The very first post we have here is? Oh would you look at that! A beautiful picture of you on OUR date, but who would possibly know that? All they see is a pretty girl, at an expensive restaurant with expensive wine and expensive jewelry. Okay and up next! Look at that! More fancy jewelry and clothes! Scrolling down a bit more, what’s this? A man? Must be your boyfriend right because you have one? Nope! It’s some guy who took you for a drive in his fancy car! Why would you possibly want to show off your boyfriend? Then rich men wouldn’t drive you around in their sports cars! How sad.” Matthew keeps scrolling, rambling on and on about every picture you’ve posted.

“Stop-“ you manage to choke out, eyes stinging with tears.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did I hurt your feelings? Because fuck Y/n mine sure are! I thought you were different! I thought WE were different. Every girl just wants shit from me! It’s insane! I want to spoil you, but fuck if that’s all you want you’re in the wrong spot! I guess I’m just stupid for thinking a girl like you could love me.” The venom in his last sentence stings, and you repress the sob threatening to leave your throat.

“A girl like me?” You challenge, finding more confidence than you thought had in you. “You know what Matthew? Fuck. You.”

Pushing yourself from his couch, you grab your things quickly heading to the door. As you slide on your shoes, you turn back to him one more time. “For the record, I don’t need shit from you Matthew! And sure maybe I like to put on a show for Instagram, but that’s all it is. A show. So why don’t you grow a pair and learn to talk to women about shit that bothers you, because if you can’t do that no one will ever love you.”

The door slams behind you as you leave. You and Matthew both have a lot of learning to do in this life, and maybe your time together, though short, is a turning point for you both. Maybe someday he will see not everyone is out to get him, and that communication isn’t as scary as it seems. Maybe someday you’ll learn that looking good, or rich, doesn’t make you happy. Living in the moment with people who matter, that will make you happy. For now, the two of you are left alone, wounds from hurtful words on full display. Both of you left wanting to take it all back.

#Up All Night-series #matthew tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk fanfic #Matthew Tkachuk fanfiction #nhl fan fiction #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey fan fiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

[k0dzukwen]

ʚ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 ɞ

- ”I would’ve never thought I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon...”

pairing: tendou x gn!reader

genre: angst, tragedy

word count: 1.7k

song inspo: mr. loverman by ricky montgomery mixed with as the world caves in by matt maltese

warnings: major character death, mentions of eating disorder, mild cussing, hospitals, 

pre a/n: if you wanna blame someone for this idea blame rex orange county, jjk newest ep, and my bestfriend ANKNKA ok but fr...i was thinking of who to do for this for about like..30 mins, it was between tendou, kita, and atsumu. i’ll try to do atsumu tonight because i have a AMAZING prompt for him ok? anyways enjoy this :))

“I can show you everything”

You wanted to be shown everything once, you were so eager to go everywhere and memorize every detail. And there was one person who you wanted to travel everywhere with

Satori Tendou

You were captivated by him, thoughts of him fogged your mind daily and you could barely focus. You knew he was the one for you that day you first started as a manager and he offered you candy, along with asking if you read manga. His smile when you said yes and accepted his snack made you melt on the inside, you practically started floating when he sat next to you and started talking about character complexes and powers. You listened to him for hours that day, you secretly wished he had invited you over so he could talk to you more. You went to sleep that night reminiscing over every word, every sentence, every laugh you both shared. 

Were you really that head over heels after one day?

As the days went by you and Tendou grew closer, becoming best friends within weeks. Yet the sparkle in your eyes when he smiled and laughed never faded, the warm feeling from being with him remained with you only growing stronger. You always fell too easily which left you vulnerable to getting hurt, yet with him you wanted to open yourself up completely hoping he would do the same. Months turned into years and before you knew it, You guys were graduating. Everything went by so fast you would believe you blinked and suddenly became a third year, now you were laying in the grass behind the dorms stargazing with your bestfriend who you had unironically fallen in love with. Have you told him how you felt? Nope

“Do you know what paradise is?”, Tendou stared up at the sky the slight light from the lights nearby illuminating his face and causing his eyes to sparkle

“Something or someone you find comfort in, Something you’re so addicted to just doing it or being around it brings you unimaginable joy. You can’t and won’t imagine ever leaving it or stopping it voluntarily” You sighed and looked over at him, gazing into his red eyes, “Why do you ask?”

He laughed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply “This is my paradise...I don’t think I’m ready to leave..” He opened his eyes and smiled, “But you know, This is a part of growing up right?”

“Ugh..” You huff and sit up, “What the hell is growing up anyways?”

Tendou sat up and shifted closer, leaning in so his nose could almost touch yours, “You aren’t old enough to understand”

Your face flushed a deep pink, he was so close to your face if you accidentally moved closer your lips would meet. You smiled at him and burst out laughing, laughing so hard you had to lay back down and hold your stomach. He laughed too, laying next to you and continuing to point out constellations like nothing had happened. What did he even mean “You aren’t old enough to understand”, he was only one year older than you so what did he mean?

Did you really want to know?

You never really understood the term “growing up”, deep down you wanted to stay a a kid forever. You knew that growing up brought unwanted pain and stress and even trauma, if you weren’t stressed with college enough you also had to deal with paying for bills on your studio apartment and making money from the cafe you worked at. And to make it all worse your best friend, the guy you were lovesick for was moving across the country to pursue his dreams

In Paris

You always asked why Paris, didn’t he want to go pro in volleyball? Wasn’t that his paradise? You knew you wanted the best for him but deep down you didn’t want the love of your life to move across the country, you knew you would both lose communication with eachother, you knew he would forget about you and you didn’t want to bear that pain. Yet he didn’t want to listen, he left to paris and exactly what you predicted happened. You started off calling him every day along with texting him, sending him pictures of what you did in everyday life. You didn’t have many friends so you often found yourself waiting for his reply, you knew his job was time consuming but impatience still got the best of you. Hours without a reply turned into days, the realization that you had lost your love ate at your soul. You found yourself skipping meals, and slacking off in school. You knew it was unhealthy and that you needed to stay strong but you couldn’t, his laugh and smile lingered in your dreams. You missed him dearly, but still couldn’t get the confidence to dial his number. One day you couldn’t take it and booked a flight out to Paris, you thought at the moment it would be the best option.

You never even left the hotel

You paced around the room, the TV playing in the background. You knew the chocolate shop he worked at and had a way of transportation but couldn’t bring yourself to go, what if he didn’t remember you? What if he had someone else? You tried to talk yourself up, motivating yourself to press the button

“God damn Y/N just-” You were cut off by a breaking news report, Your gaze switched from your hands to the TV. You squinted at the screen as it showed a report of a young male involved in a car collision, you didn’t even know what the instinct was but you ran out your hotel room down to the lobby, you busted through the entrance and started to run to the hospital the news report specified, tears welled up in your eyes as you ran praying that it was just a mistake. You prayed that the male in critical condition wasn’t who you thought it was, you stumbled and bumped into people as you ran saying a quick “I’m sorry” and keeping your pace. You arrived at the hospital and bust through the doors, running up to the desk

“Please miss, Who was the man involved in the car collision? The one in critical condition?” Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at the woman in front of you expectantly

“Oh, at first we labeled him a John Doe but after further inspection we have confirmed the mans name is...Satori Tendou, We really shouldn’t give out this info but you seem like a family member or-”

The nurse continued on but you couldn’t hear, everything went silent as if you had just became deaf, Your knees felt weak and threatened to give out. It couldn’t be him, You shook your head and covered your ears despite the fact you couldn’t hear anything, everything started to swirl together like a fever dream. Thats right, it was just a dream, This wasn’t happening. You were gonna wake up from this crazy situation and go see your bestfriend, You were gonna finally see your best friend and he was going to be alive and healthy. Everything was going to be just fine, This was just a sick nightmare thats it

“Excuse me, this is his room. I’m sorry but he has about 20 mins left to live, he can hear but can’t move or respond to anything...I’m sorry”

The doctor patted your back and left the room, gently closing the door to avoid startling you. You hadn’t spoken a word since the news was given to you and of course, you didn’t take it well. You broke down completely, the nurses had to escort you to a room and try to calm you down

But even now you felt nothing but numbness

You stared at Tendous body blankly, gazing at all the tubes coming out of him, the beeping of the heart monitor and pumping of the life support machine kept the room from being completely silent. You felt tears well up into your eyes again and this time you didn’t fight them, you slowly walked towards his bed and gently touched his face. You could feel his face flinch and heard a wimper escape from his body, you let out a quiet sob and placed your hand over your mouth. You remembered how the doctor said he could hear you and feel everything

Feel Everything

He could probably feel the tubes and they were probably painful, He probably didn’t think that life was worth so much pain. 

“Tendou...” Your voice cracked and you sniffed, “I’m so sorry...I should have been there..for you” You sighed and sat down in a chair, leaning on the bed “Did I ever tell you about my paradise? Well unlike you...My paradise was a person, They were super funny and their smile could brighten anyones day” You smiled at the last part, unknowingly laying your head on the bed, “They had am amazing laugh too...It was so contagious I learned to memorize it, whenever I was around them...I felt like I was complete. I felt like I had a life worth living when they were around, I loved them..letting them go was the hardest thing, but at least they were safe and happy...” You started to choke up, tears streaming down your face, “You’re my paradise Tendou...I’m in love with you and I want to stay here forever if It means I’ll be with you”. You looked up at the monitor noticing how it was slowing down, You didn’t know much about medicine and medical things but you knew that wasn’t a good sign. You gently grabbed his cold hand and squeezed it, you blinked through tears and opened your mouth. You didn’t know what to say until the monitor started to rapidly beep, fear shot through your body causing your tears to flow faster and your body to shake. You broke your gaze from the monitor and looked at Tendou, his skin was pale and you could barely see his face through all the tubes

“I would have never thought...I would have to say goodbye to my paradise so soon. I love you Satori, I’m sorry I was too late” 

↳𝐞𝐧𝐝 

post a/n: currently sitting here crying, i’m not even attached to Tendou like that and i’m HURT why do i do these things to myself i’m sorry to whovever reads this </3

#haikyu x reader #tendou satori #haikyu angst #haikyuu!! #hq x reader #hq tendou #tendou angst #tendou x reader #tendou x y/n #tendou imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tendou #tendou

[tirednerd2012]

What about something that takes place after Drew's second attack on Ian? Suppose some other kids play a prank on Ian at school, which causes him to suffer a panic attack? (Ian is very brave, but 3 hours tied up and gagged in the trunk of a moving car alone is enough to give someone issues.) Barley comes to get him and take him home, then he spends the rest of the day comforting Ian. (Hugs, blankets, etc.) Only if you have time, though. If not, don't worry about it.

Ian hadn't told anyone about being kidnapped by Drew. He didn't think his friends would enjoy the story of him tied up in the back of a trunk for 3 hours. He shuddered at the memory. He felt his wrists. He rubbed them raw when he tried to escape. He knew Drew was going to kill him and he decided he would go down fighting.

Everyone at school looked at him weird. He was forced to take his shirt off during swim meet and everyone gasped at his new scars. Drew cut 7 deep wounds into his back while he held Ian captive. Permanent reminders of his horrible experience for him and his brother.

He wanted to talk to Barley about it. He wanted to hear his brother say it was going to be fine, that he was here and he was safe. But he knew how much guilt Barley felt about the entire situation. He didn't want to make it worse. He already heard Barley waking up in the middle of the night crying.

"Ian, check this out!" one kid, Matt, called. He looked somewhat concerned and Ian decided he should investigate. He walked over to him. Matt was standing by the janitor's closet.

"What is it?" he asked. Then another kid came up from behind him and shut him in. He tried to open the door, but the other two boys were pressed against it.

Suddenly he was back in Drew's car. He rubbed his wrists raw as he tried to get them loose. He couldn't see anything, but heard the car and others fly past, without knowing he was in there.

He was facing certain death. He was crying and trying to scream but no one could hear it on the highway. No one was coming to rescue him.

He tried to reach to his phone in his back pocket, but couldn't manage to see the screen to call for help.

Ian felt every emotion hit him again. He collapsed and suddenly breathing was an impossible task. His scars on his back were burning and he started sobbing again.

He heard a teacher yell and the door open. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was. School. It was a prank. What should have been harmless.

He walked into the office and called the only person he wanted to see right now.

"Barley, can you come get me?" he asked through his tears.

"Ian, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Barley asked. "Why are you crying?"

"Barley, please, just come here. Now. I need you," Ian begged. He heard the van start up.

"I'm on my way. Be there in 5. What's going on, though?" he asked.

"Some kids locked me in the janitor's closet and I panicked. I felt like I was back..." his voice trailed off, but both of them knew exactly what Ian was referring to.

"Please, just get here," he said with a soft voice. He hung up the phone and curled back up and cried again. The principal stopped trying to console him. Barley would be here soon anyway.

Barley would never admit it to Ian, but he blamed himself every day for everything that happened with Drew. He hated himself for allowing that bastard into their lives. He knew damn well it was his fault Drew ever targeted Ian.

Barley couldn't sleep at night without picturing Ian being choked until he blacked out. He had saved Barley from that fate, but his older brother couldn't return the favor.

Now Ian was calling him during school sobbing. He didn't know what happened, but he knew he had to get to Ian and fast.

He ran into the office without a second thought. The principal was expecting him because she ushered him over to his little brother, still crying on the chair. He darted to his side.

"Ian? Buddy, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Some kids locked him in a janitor's closet and he had a panic attack," the principal had to explain.

"I thought I was in the trunk again," he heard Ian whisper. He thought about Drew kidnapping him again. He pulled Ian into him, wrapped an arm around and they left.

He led Ian to the van and took him home. They didn't talk much on their way, but he knew his brother needed his space. He wanted nothing more than to take away the pain he knew his brother was struggling with. It was his fault that Ian felt this way and there wasn't much he could do to help.

A green light turned straight to red and Barley had to slam on the breaks. As he did he felt Ian grab on to him. He looked down and noticed his brother shaking while holding one of his arms.

He put his hand on Ian's and tried to control himself. He wanted to kill Drew all over again.

They pulled up to the house and Barley led Ian to his room and wrapped a blanket around him and hugged him tightly.

"You're safe, Ian, he can't hurt you anymore. You're safe," he repeated over and over again. "I'm right here. I'm here and I'm never leaving you. It's going to be okay."

He held his crying brother in his arms for hours.

#ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #barley onward #ian barley #onward #onward pixar #iwlg

[wellimaginethat]

Never Stopped Loving You

Pairing: Matt Casey x (female) Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 2289

Author’s Note: YAY! My first Matt x Reader!

Trigger Warning(s): Jealousy, confrontation, break up, implied hooking up

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Matt and Y/N used to date but ended things because she was leaving Chicago for work, however they never quit having feelings for each other and would hookup whenever she was in town if they happened to be single. Well, Matt is dating Hallie when Y/N comes to visit, and Hallie isn’t too thrilled with how they act together. She ends up finding a box filled with pictures of Y/N and letters she wrote to him, along with what appears to be an engagement ring, which causes problems. Her insecurities only intensify when Y/N announces that she’s moving back to Chicago.

Y/N = Your Name

Y/EC = Your Eye Color

You and Matt Casey had a very strange relationship. You started out as best friends, then became romantically involved. The transition from friends to more was easy. It probably never would have happened if it hadn’t been for you kissing him after a movie night.

It had taken him completely off guard, and when you first pulled away, you were worried that he was going to be upset. That is, until he pulled you back into a kiss, a very passionate kiss.

When the two of you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, a silence between the two of you except for soft breaths.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Matt breathed out, his blue eyes meeting your Y/EC ones.

You smiled some. “You should’ve, I was terrified to make the first move.”

“Well I’m glad you did, I’m not sure I ever would’ve gotten up the courage to kiss you.” Matt admitted softly.

After that, the two of you had a beautiful relationship that lasted a total of six months. Until you were offered a glorious job in your field of study in London. You knew you couldn’t turn it down. Matt knew you couldn’t turn it down. You knew it wasn’t fair to ask him to leave Chicago with you, and you also knew it wasn’t fair to keep him on the hook when you might never come back. So you ended things.

Once you spoke the words, breaking both his heart and yours, you kissed his cheek and left the apartment. You sobbed in your car, unable to drive off, and he got in the passenger seat and pulled you into a hug. He kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll never stop loving you.” Matt whispered into your hair. “And you will forever be my best friend, no matter what.”

You sobbed harder. “I can’t turn this down, Matt.” You cried into his chest.

“I know.” Matt whispered. “And I’d never ask you to. I understand that this is what you gotta do.”

So you left for London. You’d periodically come back to Chicago, and when you did, you spent the entire time with Matt. If either of you were in a relationship, it was strictly platonic. But if you both were single, it was a much friendlier time.

Usually, you both were single.

And then Hallie came into the picture.

You were respectful and didn’t say anything to her about you and Matt previously being an item, you were just his friend. You didn’t know why Matt never told her about the two of you having dated in the past, but you assumed it was because he didn’t want it to be awkward when you came to visit.

However, Hallie noticed how Matt acted around you. She could see the way he looked at you and it made her worry.

Matt continuously assured her that it was nothing, that he wouldn’t cheat on her.

She knew he wouldn’t cheat on her, but she was worried that he would leave her.

And then she found the box. It was an old boot box that he kept on the top shelf of his closet, pushed back in a corner so that no one would find it unless they went looking.

Hallie knew she had no right snooping, but his relationship with you just worried her to no end. She was waiting for him to get out of the shower so that way they could go out and she had started looking around, she didn’t really know what exactly she was looking for, just something to either ease her worries or solidify them.

Matt found her sitting on his bed, box in her lap and her hunched over slightly, snooping through the contents. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

Hallie jumped up a little and looked at him, her eyes locking onto his. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked him, clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me that you used to date? That you were planning on marrying her?”

“I never-” Matt started only to stop when she held up the little velvet box.

“You had a ring.” Hallie’s voice was hollow as she stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you constantly tell me that I had nothing to worry about?”

“Because you don’t.” Matt told her, going over and taking a seat next to her. He took the box off her lap and gingerly set it on the bed behind them. “I’m with you.”

“And still obviously in love with her.” Hallie rolled her eyes.

Matt shook his head.

“Tell me one thing.” Hallie said and he nodded. “If she were to move back, who would you choose? Me or her?”

Matt didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.” Hallie went to stand up and walk out, Matt caught her by the wrist gently. She looked back at him, tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about us.” Matt spoke quietly, calmly as he stood up. He placed his hands on her shoulders gently. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

Hallie huffed a laugh. “You didn’t want me to worry.” She shook her head. “Did you ever think that if I did find out this would happen?”

“I’m sorry.” Matt told her again, sighing softly. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have.” Hallie answered before walking out.

Things between them were tense after that, despite the fact that Matt was trying to fix things between them.

And then you came to visit again. You had no idea that Hallie knew about yours and Matt’s past, so once again you played the best friend role. You couldn’t understand why she was being cold to you until Matt told you when you finally had a split second alone.

“She found out about us.” Was all Matt told you.

You understood immediately. So when Matt was in the bathroom, you looked at her. “Hallie. I want you to know that I would never do anything to come between you and Matt.” You were trying to be nice, trying to be sympathetic. “We’ve been broken up for years now, long before the two of you got together. We agreed to be friends because we’ve been friends for years and didn’t want to lose that.”

Hallie nodded, although her demeanor didn’t change.

You sighed. “Matt and I are always going to be friends, and I don’t want him to feel like he has to choose between me and his girlfriend. I don’t want to lose him.”

Hallie scoffed. “Like he’d ever choose me over you.”

The conversation was cut short by Matt walking into the room and smiling at the two of you, sincerely hoping that he was misreading the situation and that there wasn’t as much tension in the room as he thought there was.

“So how long are you in Chicago?” Matt asked you after a few moments.

“For a while.” You told him. “I was offered a new job here in Chicago.”

Matt’s brows raised in surprise. “So you’re moving back?”

You could see how upset Hallie was, but you couldn’t change that you had already accepted the job offer. “Well I’ve been wanting to come home for a while now, so I jumped at the offer of a job here.”

Matt smiled wide. “That’s great.” He said, but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand.

When you left, you went back to your hotel room and sat there for a long time replaying the night in your head, you had wanted to move back to Chicago since you left, but you couldn’t turn down the amazing offer all those years ago, it was the best way to get your foot in the door in your line of work. 

You thought about your conversation with Hallie, how she implied that Matt would choose you over her, you wondered if that held any truth. You hated to admit it, but you wished he would. Not because you wished anything bad against Hallie, but because you loved him. You hated that. You hated being the kind of person to wish for something like that. You wanted Matt happy over everything else, even if that wasn’t with you. It’s not like you’d ever purposely do something to split them up, and that wasn’t even why you’d accepted the job in Chicago, you actually wouldn’t have if you had known. You weren’t that kind of person.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knocking on the door. You got up to answer it and, looking through the peephole, were surprised to see it was Hallie. You pulled the door open with a confused frown on your face. “Hallie?”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything to come in between us?” Hallie asked and you could hear the heartbreak in her voice, causing you to feel even more guilty.

“I didn’t know when I accepted the job.” You told her, letting her come in the room. “I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t know. I thought he was over me.”

Hallie scoffed again and shook her head. “You’re like the one that got away, the one he’ll never get over.” She was crying now. “I don’t stand a chance.”

You shook your head some, trying to find the right words to say.

“Save it.” Hallie shook her head and before you knew it, she was walking out.

“Hallie.” You went to follow her but then decided to just let her go.

You avoided Matt after that, you didn’t want to be the cause of their break up. So you avoided him and avoided him and continued to avoid him.

That is until he showed up at your new apartment six months later.

You didn’t even know how he got your address. “Matt?”

He didn’t even say anything, just kissed you.

You pulled away, pushing at his chest and taking a step away from him, shaking your head. “No.”

Matt was shocked and hurt.

“You’re with Hallie.” You stated.

Matt shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He told you, causing you to look at him. “She broke up with me months ago.”

“Because of me.” You hated what you were feeling right now, guilt and heartbreak.

“She said she didn’t want to be in the way of true love.” Matt told you. “I tried denying it, I tried telling her that I wanted her, but she didn’t believe me and I realized that she was right.”

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “I can’t be with you, Matt.” You said quietly.

His face fell even more than it had, not able to hide the hurt and heartbreak he was feeling. “Why not?” He asked quietly.

“Because you should be with her.” You stated, tears sliding down your cheeks.

Matt shook his head. “Our relationship was falling apart before you came back.” He told you softly. “We were never going to work, no matter what.”

You stared at him, silent, for a long moment, trying to figure out if what he was saying was true.

Matt took a step toward you. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.” He said softly. “And even if you didn’t move back to Chicago, that wouldn’t have changed.”

You swallowed hard.

“I would’ve been here sooner but it took me a while to find you.” Matt said quietly. “You’ve been avoiding me, afterall.”

You nodded, swallowing hard again. “Uh-huh, I have.” You said quietly, looking away from him. “Because I was afraid she was right. She said that you’d choose me over her, so I was trying to remove myself from the situation.”

Matt nodded slowly. “And are you still going to avoid me?”

“I don’t think I can.” You admitted quietly. “I never stopped loving you, Matt.”

“And I never stopped loving you either.” Matt said softly, his hands moving to cup your face, causing you to finally look at him again.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you looked at him.

“I want you and only you.” Matt told you softly. “I never stopped wanting you.”

“Matt.” You started softly.

“Let me finish.” Matt said softly, his eyes locking on yours. “I could never picture myself spending my life with anyone else, no matter how hard I tried. And I think you being back is the perfect time for our second chance.”

You were quiet, watching him as he spoke. “Do you think we’d still be together if I never left?”

He was taken back by your question but quickly nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He paused. “Do you?”

You nodded some. “Yeah. I always wondered that though, if we’d still be together. You have no idea how many times I imagined what our life would be like if I had stayed in Chicago instead of moving to London.”

“I know what you mean.” Matt said softly. “I always wondered that too.” He wondered if you would have said yes when he proposed, if the two of you would be married, if you’d be working on a family by now. There were a lot of ifs.

The two of you were quiet, just standing there. He was still cupping your face, your hands were on his chest. Neither of you were looking at the other.

“Stay.” He whispered. “Forever, please.”

You finally look at him to see him looking at you.

“I don’t want to lose you again.” Matt whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered back.

Matt leaned in to kiss you again, and this time you didn’t pull away.

#matt casey x reader #matt casey imagine #matt casey imagines #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire imagines

[kitaychan]

We need to talk.

Summary: After a breakup, Ivan realizes his life was not as fullfilling as he had thought. Reaching out to old friends might prove to be a slow task with interesting outcomes.

Chapter preview: Ivan turned around only to meet the cashier's backhand with his cheek. Blinking rapidly he heard Feliciano's apologies, the poor guy was quivering in fear, the brunette glanced down before questioning. "Is it your pet, sir?"

Ivan sighed and nodded.

"Perhaps you could place some cat treats around your home, that may help... uhh Boris? To find the way back."

Ivan felt Alfred patting him in the back, snickering softly, the American smiled at the cashier. "That was a good way of snapping or should I say slapping? him back to reality."

Chapter 4: Laughter

"Sir, can I tell you something?"

Ivan glanced at the cashier, he was a brunette with short hair, Ivan always wondered how the guy managed to stick out that strange curl of hair, looking at it reminded him of Alfred’s attempts at taming his cowlick.

Ivan chuckled at the thought and nodded at the man.

He had a slight trace of an accent in his voice, Ivan couldn't figure the cause of it just yet, or perhaps he hadn't paid too much attention.

The small badge in the cashier's uniform gave out his name "Feliciano" alongside the badge was a tiny tag of a German flag. That sent Ivan a wave of frustration, the accent wasn't german, he was sure of it.

Feliciano was talking to him but Ivan couldn't focus on his words, he was busy trying not to get hit by the guy’s hands. He had seen it before, when “Feliciano” was talking excitedly with other customers, he would usually move his hands widely as the speed of his speech increased, making it hard to understand his words. Which was exactly what was happening right now, Ivan had lost track of the guy’s words and now he was talking about a recipe of pasta.

Ivan glanced around, looking for some help from Alfred.

The prospect of going grocery shopping this morning wasn't as dreadful as the night before thanks to the American.

Alfred’s frame could be seen in the entrance, he was asking if he could put the missing cat paper in the front door. Ivan had advised him not to, seeing the place would get too much attention and he didn't want all of the neighborhood to have his number but the American did so anyways.

Ivan turned around only to meet the cashier's backhand with his cheek. Blinking rapidly he heard Feliciano's apologies, the poor guy was quivering in fear, the brunette glanced down before questioning. "Is it your pet, sir?"

Ivan sighed and nodded.

"Perhaps you could place some cat treats around your home, that may help... uhh Boris? To find the way back."

Ivan felt Alfred patting him in the back, snickering softly, the American smiled at the cashier. "That was a good way of snapping or should I say slapping? him back to reality."

Feliciano faltered starting a string of apologies.

Alfred laughed. "It's fine dude, I'm sure Ivan didn't mind, but the treats are such a good idea, thanks, man. I'll get them and you can keep with your good work."

Having Alfred around was a blessing, he could get out of awkward situations so easily.

Once they were out of the store Alfred burst out laughing. "I can't believe he slapped you."

"It was an accident," Ivan said softly, he looked down at the small bag of cat treats, the picture of a fluffy cat with his mouth open while a rain of fish snacks was falling, caught his attention.

Sighing he observed the American climbing back into the car, he looked excited, like a child that has been finally allowed to seat at the front.

Taking the driver seat, Ivan wondered if the american’s excitement was directed to him, the car or the situation. Pushing away those thoughts, the Russian figured that Alfred was happy to visit his brother, he was driving him to Matthew's house after all.

Alfred gave him a light punch in the arm. “Are you ok? You are zoning out a lot.”

“I'm sorry.”

Alfred took out his phone, typing a message and smiling back at the Russian. “Do you want to visit Matt with me?”

Ivan paused, glancing at Alfred’s bright smile and shook his head. “No, Alfred, thank you.”

Alfred whined, typing out something on his phone again and pressed. “Are you sure?”

The Russian’s eyes were fixed on the road. “Yes. You came on a family visit and I don't want to ruin that.”

“You won't ruin it. You are family.”

Ivan could see Matthew’s house from where they were, the neighborhood was something the Russian would describe as “cute”, some children were playing outside, an old lady walking his small dog, the facade of the house seemed like the perfect family house one would see in christmas movies. Ivan wondered how could Matthew pay for it all, Ivan was supposed to earn more than him.

Parking in front of the house, Ivan gave Alfred a small smile. “I don't think Matthew wants to see me, he is the one doing my work at the moment.”

The American mocked him. His face showing a fake sense of dread and indignation. “Oh man, he must be going nuts.”

Ivan chuckled at Alfred’s exaggerated gestures. “Probably, tell him that he can pass some of it to me if he wants.”

Alfred frowned. “No way, you are on vacation.”

“But-”

The American exited the car, stating sternly. “No buts, you won't work on your vacations and that's final.”

Ivan saw him greeting his brother in the entrance, Matthew waved at him and he returned the salute.

The way back seemed longer without Alfred’s chatting. A red light made him stop once again and Ivan swore that he was taking too long to arrive home. Ivan reached the bag of cat treats and inspected it, boredom siping through his being, he should have bought something to eat, or perhaps he should have accepted Alfred’s invitation, anything was better than waiting in a red light while reading the dietary contents of cat treats.

He opened the window, the day was sunny and a bit windy, he could hear the pedestrian’s chit chat, a small kid with his mother was eating ice cream, he smiled at the sight, remembering when Katya would take a walk with him after school when he was younger, Ivan’s smile faltered at the sound of an overly familiar laughter.

His head turning in the direction of the laughter, eyes searching for him out of habit. And there he was, crossing the street, walking hand by hand with someone he didn’t know, laughing and smiling warmly, carrying groceries and talking with whomever that was.

It was a matter of seconds, three minutes at best but for Ivan it was an eternity, to watch him pass in front of him, the other guy was shorter than Tolys, blonde, and was carrying a… what was that? a purse? a satchel? no, it’s too big for that, is that a cat carrier? was that Boris?

No, he must be confused, Bors was at home after Tolys left. Ivan shook his head and glanced up again, they were gone, well, not gone, they were on the other side of the street, walking further away.

They didn’t notice him. Why would they? they seemed so happy, one would usually ignore things or people when being happy, right? one would see only the bright side and the joyful expressions of the other, right?

They were happy, Tolys was happy, that’s what mattered. They were happy and Ivan was… he was fine, not happy but fine.

He resumed his way back Thinking about nothing and everything at the same time.

When he was finally inside of his apartment, a pulsing ache in his heart was oppressing him, and for the first time in years, he felt like letting himself cry. His body seemed to register the fact before he could think about it, his eyes watered and he started sobbing.

After a while, he calmed down, pondering between calling one of his sisters or Alfred, or just serving himself some vodka and going to sleep. He took out his phone, refusing to call right now, his voice would probably be shaky or he would end up crying again. He tried writing to Katya but refrained from it after some attempts, the situation seemed so stupid and yet, there he was feeling like a small hopeless child all over again.

Reaching the fridge seemed like an easier task.

Looking around the kitchen, he glanced at a sticky note placed in the fridge, its bright yellow looked strange in contrast with the dull colors of the kitchen.

Alfred’s scrappy handwriting made Ivan smile again. “No vodka, unless it is to celebrate something.” The note said.

Ivan took the note carefully, opened the fridge, looking at the full bottle with another sticky note “I’m serious” it read.

He stared for a second before noticing another sticky note, this time in a lunch container. “I know what you are thinking, Dumbass. Eat something.”

Ivan chuckled, taking out the container and the notes. Feeling lighter, he opened the food container, to see some chicken nuggets.

The Russian glanced at the nearest window, the day was still sunny and bright.

He sighed, he’d be fine.

#hetalia fanfiction #hws russia #hws america #hws north italy #hws fanfiction #my writing

[spcncershybrid]

You’re Pathetic- Spencer Reid Imagine

GIF IS NOT MINE

Spencer Reid X Salvatore!Reader

Criminal Minds X The Vampire Diaries

(Summary: After a devastating loss the reader shuts off their humanity and says some scarring words to their team.)

Warnings: Death. 

Can emotions really be helpful? I look at the bathroom mirror sighing remembering the dreadful morning I just had.

“Speak Damon I have to get to work quick.” I say as I throw on my shoes. “You’re like a 100 year old vampire. You can speed walk it.” He says. “Just say what you’re going to say Damon this case I have to work on is important.” I say, struggling to put on Spencer’s my cardigan. I slip it on and speed out the door, phone still at my ear. I wait for a moment trying to see if I can notice my boyfriend Spencer, who is sadly late. “You might want to sit down for this.” Damon says softly which is weird as he rarely shows emotion. “Spit it out Damon.” I say preparing myself for some sort of bad news, tears already start to pool at my eyes. “Belle’s dead.” Damon says softly. “You’re lying Damon. Please tell me you're lying.” I say as a few tears slip out. “Stefan found her staked in the woods. She looked like she was headed towards the Boarding House.” He says taking a deep breath. I drop my phone onto the pavement sobbing. I feel my heart clench. Belle has been my friend since my brothers and I were turned. She was also newly turned and helped Stefan and I adjust to the new lifestyle as Damon went his own way to figure it out. I hear a car pull up and turn off immediately. “Y/N? Hey sorry I’m late Morgan needed something. Wait what happened.” Spencer says immediately snaking his arms around me. “She’s dead.” I say sobbing harder. “Who?” He says his voice laced with concern. “Belle. Spence, Belle’s dead.” I say wiping my tears standing up. “Oh baby we can call Hotch and tell him you can’t make it.” He says, pulling out his phone. “No Spencer, other people need me. I’ll call her family later.” I say opening his car door and wipe my tears.

We enter the bullpen setting our things down grabbing our case files and head to the conference room sitting with the rest of the team. “You okay?” JJ says nudging. I nod at her not trusting my mouth to say the proper words. Penelope enters the room with her remote. “Our case today is right next door sort of. We, I mean you guys are going to Charleston, West Virginia. A body was discovered impaled with a wooden stake of some sort. the victim was I.D’ed as Trevor Price a West Virginia native.” She says sorting through the pictures. My heart drops instantly as tears prick my eyes. I start to think of Belle. Did Stefan find her like that? “Excuse me.” I say rushing out of the room and into the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. All of this can stop if I flip the switch.

Can emotions really be helpful? I look in the mirror breathing heavily. I shut my eyes slowly feeling all of my emotions flow out like water out of a faucet. I wipe my tears and exit the bathroom. I’m immediately met with Spencer. “Are you okay?” He asks grabbing my shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be? Some monsters deserve to get put down Spencer. Do I need to grab my go bag?” I say heading over to my desk. “Yeah?” He says questioningly going to grab his bag as we head towards the jet.

We all sit towards the jet. It feels fun not to worry about the little things anymore. “Kid told me what happened Salvatore, are you fine he said you two were close.” Derek says sitting across from me. I roll my eyes slightly. “Honestly Derek people in my life are so temporary that caring for them seems useless.” I say adjusting myself in the uncomfortable jet seat. He looks at me confused before sitting with Emily. “Let’s talk on victimology and M.O.” Hotch says breaking the annoyingly silent atmosphere. “We don’t have a lot to go on Hotch, it's one body that got impaled. What are we going to talk about the way it went in.” I say looking out the window. “I understand Agent Salvatore you went through a loss but we all need to do our jobs effectively unless you do not which we will be sure and happy to have you off this case.” Hotch says sternly. I feign hurt. “Fine but mark my words it’ll be pointless.” I say smirking slightly. I don’t feel hurt or scared, I just feel nothing. I feel my phone vibrate, Damon.

-How are you holding up?

-Why do you care Damon go back to being the big brother that can care less.

-Calm it sassy pants call me when you get off the jet.

-No.

-I will get Bonnie to do a locator speed to track you down. Then we will have a little chat.

I shut my phone off rolling my eyes as we get ready to land.

_____________________________

We head over to the station. This place is a dump. “I am SSA Hotchner. These are SSA Agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Salvatore and this is Dr. Reid.” Hotch says introducing us to the deputy. “Welcome. The interrogation room is over there, and the boards are over there. You can make yourself at home.” He says. “Did you do any interview you mentioned to our technical analyst Penelope Garcia about it.” Hotch says. “We arrested them but we waited for you guys to come over and deal with it.” The deputy says. “Welcome BAU profilers.” The sheriff says walking over. The team smiles but I look away. “Shall we get started?” Hotch says. “Reid and Salvatore you question…” Hotch starts looking at the list. “Mari-Anne Edwards-Price she’s the wife.” He finishes shooing into the interrogation room as they stand outside. “Hello Mari-Anne. I am Doctor Spencer Reid and this is SSA Y/N Salvatore. We want to ask you some questions about your husband's murder.” Spencer says smiling towards her. I fake a smile to her. “Do you think your husband had any enemies?” He says looking towards me then at her. “No he seemed well loved by everyone in the community.” She says. “Obviously not.” I whisper under my breath. Spencer looks at me confused but goes back to ask Mari-Anne another question. “Do you know any work associates that could’ve done something like this?” He asks. “No. Not any I can think of.” She says. I listen to her heartbeat and she seems nervous. “Are you sure Mari-Anne? You seem a bit nervous.” I say leaning towards her. “What are you doing?” Spencer whispers. “Seeing if she’s lying isn’t that what us profilers do.” I say looking towards him then at the mirror behind us at the team. “Yes sort of but not like this. We need to ask her questions.” He whispers back. “You’re pathetic Spencer. I can tell she’s nervous but I guess a genius can’t figure that out.” I say stepping out of the room. I step out of the station and speed over to the hotel we are all staying at.

_____________________________

I open the door, closing my eyes. “You are so difficult to find.” I hear a voice say. I open my eyes to see Damon and Stefan relaxing on my bed. “Why are you guys here?” I ask annoyed. “We know what happened to Belle was sad, but why did you shut off your humanity?” Stefan says. How did they know? “Your boyfriend called and said something was wrong.” Damon says butting into the conversation. “What would be wrong Damon?” I ask, tilting my head. “You called him pathetic and well the other day you called him your ‘Pumpkin’.” He says mimicking me. “So what Damon!” I exclaim turning to him. “Humans aren't worth it at the moment when even immortal beings die!” I yell at him. “Look I was the one that found her.” Stefan says softly. I scoff. “Yeah well Stefan she was my best friend.” I say sitting on the hotel’s mini couch. “Just leave the both of you I’m not shutting it back on.” I say pointing to the door. They sigh and exit but I know that won’t be the last time.

_____________________________

I hear my phone beep indicating a message. Great more people to talk to. ‘Meet me at the woods behind the station We need to talk.’ It's from Spencer. ‘Fine set a time.’ I message back. ‘Now.’ He replies. I get up and throw on my shoes heading out onto West Virginia’s streets. I sped over to the station and walked behind being met with the woods. ‘I’m here.’ I text Spencer looking around. ‘Walk more you’ll see a car.’ He answers. ‘Okay Spence.’ I reply. I walk into the woods nearly tripping on a log. I see some headlights shining. “Spencer?” I call out. “Over here!” I hear him say. I jog over to him and see him leaning on a tree. He walks up to me and hugs me. “Hello Baby Salvatore.” I hear Damon say from behind me. I roll my eyes pushing Spencer back a bit. “What a lovely surprise, hello Damon.” I say turning towards him. He speeds over pushing me to the side sending me into a tree. I flinch slightly standing up. Damon wraps his hand around Spencer’s neck. “Shut it back on before I shut off your boyfriend’s life.” He says. Spencer looks shocked. “Oh you’ll kill him… Wait are you pulling that move you did with the Gilbert girl and when you snapped Matt’s he came back with the Gilbert ring. I call your bluff Damon.” I say tilting my head. “Well this time Mr. Pipe cleaner over here doesn’t have the ring.” Damon says holding Spencer tighter. “Why do you want me to shut it on so bad?” I question. “Because this isn’t you Y/N. You need these people in your life.” Damon says. “Just kill him instead.” I say blankly. He won’t actually do it. He never has listened to me in the past so why now. “Fine your call, have fun explaining it to his mother and your team.” Damon says before snapping Spencer’s neck. I gasp loudly, looking at Damon. “Spencer.” I yell feeling warmth run through my body. I ran over to his body, breathing heavily. I drop to my knees and flip him over seeing Stefan’s face, Spencer’s tall body slowly fades into smaller height. “You feel that?” Damon questions. I sigh happily. “That’s your emotions slowly coming back.” He says walking over to me. I start sobbing. “Where is he?” I say through the tears. “Right here.” I hear Spencer say. I turn around and hug him tightly. “I’m so sorry. Spencer you aren’t pathetic you are everything right. I love you so much.” I say looking into his eyes. “Your brother explained to me over the phone some small details he said leave the rest to you.” Spencer says hugging me back. I laugh happily, wiping my tears. “Who did the illusion?” I ask turning to Damon. “Our witchy friend named Bonnie.” He says rocking on the heels of his foot. Stefan wakes up gasping for air holding his neck. “Did it work?” He asks getting up. “Not sure Stef.” I say laughing. He smiles towards Spencer and I. Damon and Stefan glance at each other. “Thank you guys.” I whisper lowly knowing they can hear me. “Love you Y/N.” They whisper before running off. “I guess this is where I explain.” I say turning to Spencer. “Explain it while we’re all together. Also you were right, well you’re other self was, we found out who the unsub was.” Spencer says. “Let me guess it was Derek?” I say jokingly. “Close it was Mari-Anne she called on the hit for her husband to get impaled. After you left I made Garcia check phone records and she talked to this hitman a while back multiple times-” He starts to ramble. “Hmm maybe I should turn off my humanity again if it helps me solve a case to this extent.” I say wiggling eyebrows. “Let’s get back to the station. Grab my hand” I say holding it out. He grabs it questioningly. “Brace yourself.” I say. “What are you-” He starts. “Shh.” I shush him. I hold tightly onto his hand and speed us to the station. “Holy. Oh my.” Spencer says looking around. “Perks of being a vampire. We all run quickly.” I say laughing as Spencer taps his head. I walk into the station seeing my team in the conference area. “I owe you guys an apology.” I say aloud. “I like those conversations over nice restaurants.” Derek says smirking as the rest of the team laughs. “Yikes Derek, be subtle next time.” I say laughing as we all pack up heading towards the nearest restaurant. 

Bonus:

“Repeat that but slower.” Derek says surprised. “Okay okay. I was born on July 7th 1842. I'm sandwiched between my brothers Damon and Stefan. Our family is the founding family in Mystic Falls, Virginia. I was turned after my father killed us three. I had vampire blood in my system and well I got turned by it. Making me a vampire that’s over a hundred years old. For my attitude today we vampires have this thing called a humanity switch and well with the death of my best friend Belle, who was staked, I shut it off. Making me an ultimate ass today. Sorry about that again guys.” I say as the rest of the team stares at me. “So you're older than Rossi and Hotch combined?” JJ says laughing as Rossi glares at her. Hotch smiles, laughing at Rossi’s face. “So does this mean we can call you grand-” Emily starts. “Oh please don’t Emily .” I say laughing. “So Reid, how does it feel dating an older person.” Derek says laughing. “Oh shut up Derek.” I say laughing. “Who’s going to tell Pen?” I ask. “Who do you think I was calling?” JJ says as Penelope gasps over the phone. “Y/N Salvatore we are having a full fledged conversation when you get back.” She says. “I’ll be waiting for it, Pen.” I say. “A toast to the lovely friend we got back today.” Rossi says holding up his glass. “And a toast to the lovely friend I lost. Cheers” I say holding up my glass. We all lean forwards clinking our glasses drinking them as the night fades.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid #tvd imagine #the vampire diares imagine

[homeformyheart]

hopeless - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: i’m not sure if this fits into the same universe my other platinum fics take place in but i had fun with it. i hope you enjoy!

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. songs and lyrics owned by their respective creators. series/pairing: platinum – m!raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian); red carpet diaries cross-over – matt rodriguez x cadence dorian rating/warnings: 14+; swearing, descriptions of drinking, minor angst word count: 2.6k based on/prompt: “all you had to do was stay” by taylor swift / “secret love song pt ii” by little mix summary: news of cadence’s engagement makes raleigh and cadence revisit the way they left things.

hopeless

when cadence flew out to los angeles to secretly film music videos for her entire album, the last thing she expected was that she would get engaged. but here she was, in as private of a spot as one could find in the city of stars, with the matt rodriguez in front of her on one knee with a beautiful vintage-inspired octagonal diamond ring. no one was around except for a private photographer he hired so that they could control what made it to the press.

“cadence dorian, will you marry me?”

she knew what her answer should be. after all, her and raleigh had officially called it quits eight months ago. operative word being “officially.” it didn’t take long before she was introduced to matt when he was cast in her music video and raleigh’s label paired him off with some up-and-coming actress.

cadence fought to stay present and hoped that matt would think the tears forming in her eyes was because she was overwhelmed, when in reality, she was thinking back on the last time she spoke to raleigh.

6 months ago

“i don’t know if i can do this anymore,” cadence whispered. they had publicly broken up two months ago but were still carrying on in private whenever they could. “everytime i see you, a part of me dies a little more. all we have are these stolen moments, which won’t last once one of us has to go on tour again.”

those stolen moments included spending a few hours late at night in his bedroom a few nights a week, but whenever cadence struggled with feeling like she was a shameful secret, raleigh would cave and take her out as long as they both wore disguises. tonight was one such night and leave it to raleigh to find the one club in new york city that wouldn’t be packed with celebrities on a saturday night.

cadence saw raleigh’s grip on the steering wheel tighten as he drove them back to her apartment. her eyes welled up with tears and she let them fall down her face, ruining her makeup, as she sat silently in the passenger seat.

“don’t do this now, please. we had a nice time tonight, didn’t we?”

cadence pulled the long, curly-haired wig off her head and threw it onto the dash. “i want to hold you in the street, and kiss you on the dance floor. i should be able to shout it from the rooftops. why can’t it be like that?”

“cadence, you know it’s to protect you. you’re just starting out and i’m not going to ruin that for you… we— we can’t,” raleigh said, his throat tight and voice shaky as if he was afraid of where the conversation was going.

“i don’t want to live love like this. i don’t want to hide us away, constantly wondering if it will ever change,” cadence said sadly, drying her eyes with the back of her hands, ignoring the streaks of makeup now staining her skin.

raleigh pulled into the underground garage of her building and parked the car. he reached over to hold her hand in both of his and cadence felt a sob escape her.

“you mean the world to me, cadence. i want more than anything to show you off as my girlfriend, but we have to be careful for a while longer.” he gave her a dazzling smile, but she knew his heart wasn’t in it.

“i wish we could be like that, raleigh. but it’s obvious that it won’t happen and i can’t keep going on like this. i’m sorry,” cadence sobbed, pulling her hand from his and trying to take deep breaths to calm herself down.

cadence stepped out of the car and toward the elevators as raleigh looked on in stunned silence. she didn’t look back because she knew if she did, she’d want to run right back to him.

“cadence?”

she was brought back to the moment by the sound of matt’s voice and all she could do was nod and smile and let the rest of her tears “of joy” stream down her face as matt wrapped his arms around her and spun her around.

* * * * * raleigh looked out the window of his penthouse apartment with a glass of mezcal in his hand. against his better judgment, he scanned tabloid headlines earlier that day when a photo of cadence caught his eye. the photos made it look like she was cozying up to matt rodriguez in los angeles. raleigh prided himself on being around long enough in the industry that he could spot a tabloid relationship in two seconds, but there was something about how cadence looked in those photos that made him pause.

it was clear she was having fun and enjoying herself in the photos. he recognized the look on her face when she was mid-laugh and the cheek-hurting smile she had on reminded him of the beginning of their tabloid relationship over a year and a half ago now. but even back then, raleigh knew there was something special about cadence, something that he wanted to be real, something that made him blur the lines that defined his fake relationships in the past.

he looked at his watch and knew he needed to head out if he was going to make it to the event at a reasonable time. he knew cadence would be there and while he was fine with their recent game of avoiding each other at public events, he needed to run into her tonight. he gulped down the rest of his drink and walked out of his apartment. time to get some answers.

* * * * * his eyes zeroed in on cadence the second she walked into the room. she was wearing a gorgeous gold dress that no doubt was made for her given how it fit her every curve perfectly and showed off her shoulders and collarbone. raleigh felt his body temperature rise as he pictured ripping her hair out of its pinned updo and sucking at the sensitive spots on her neck and collarbone that he knew so well.

either he had been staring for too long or cadence sensed his presence because she looked over in his direction. they locked eyes and it was as if the entire room faded away; raleigh held her gaze, almost daring her to break eye contact first. which, she did, but not before she flashed him a look that he couldn’t quite place – apologetic? regret? embarrassment? whatever it was, it fled her features faster than he could blink. he wasn’t given any time to think about it as the tinkling sound of utensil against glass somehow seemed to drown out the conversations around him.

he looked around quickly and didn’t see any food so where the fuck did people get utensils? and more importantly, why didn’t he have a drink in his hand yet? not that he was eager to join in what was inevitably a toast to the couple of the hour.

“if i could have everyone’s attention,” the host of the party spoke over the din, smiling warmly. raleigh didn’t miss the way matt held out his arm toward cadence or the way she tucked hers into the crook of his elbow seamlessly while looking up at him with that beautiful smile radiating off her face.

“cadence and i want to thank all of you for coming out to celebrate our engagement.”

raleigh tuned matt out for the rest of the toast and looked at cadence incredulously. he glanced down at her hand that was wrapped around matt’s arm and could make out a glittering diamond ring on her finger. how had he not noticed that? and more importantly, how could cadence not have given him a heads up? he had assumed the relationship was for publicity and that somehow, when her career was more established, they would find their way back together.

he watched as cadence waved to the crowd before walking up the steps to the makeshift stage and seating herself behind the sleek black baby grand piano. raleigh was mostly sure that his jaw hadn’t dropped and his eyes hadn’t widened, but he was still too stunned to check.

“people like you always want back the love they gave away,” cadence started singing, her soulful voice ringing clearly through the speakers, “and people like me wanna believe you, when you say you’ve changed.”

raleigh had heard this song several times already, it was cadence’s number one single off her upcoming album, which he presumed had plenty of references to their relationship. but he didn’t care. the only thing he had ever truly wanted in his life besides his freedom from sunset skatepark was sitting up on that stage singing her heart out.

the room broke out into loud applause and cadence bowed before stepping off the stage. raleigh felt his feet propel him toward her and barely registered that he was standing in front of her until she looked up and said his name.

“raleigh?”

“can we talk?” he asked. she nodded and he followed her to a dressing room just outside the ballroom and locked the door behind him.

cadence crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly. “what did you want to talk about?”

raleigh gave her a long, scrutinizing look. “i guess congratulations are in order. i would’ve appreciated a heads up.”

“we’re not in a relationship anymore, raleigh, you made sure of that. i didn’t realize we still owed things to each other,” cadence snapped, eyes blazing.

“cadence, you know that’s not fair. you know i care about you and was trying to protect you,” raleigh hated that he was pleading.

“i didn’t ask you to protect me, i asked you to be with me. you had me in the palm of your hand, raleigh.”

raleigh’s fingers itched to reach out and hold her close to him, to have his body envelop hers in that way where she fit so naturally, it made you wonder if his body was made to hold hers. “i figured we’d end up together again, once your career was more established.”

cadence blinked in surprise and her eyes softened. raleigh had never given her any indication that he had thought that far ahead regarding their future, at least not seriously anyway. “oh, raleigh. i think it’s hopeless. we just weren’t meant to work out,” she sighed and walked past him to open the door.

“do you love him?” raleigh asked quietly. he glanced away once before looking at her, an almost imperceptible sign that gave away the fact that he was nervous. cadence knew this sign well and a sharp pain and sense of longing tugged at her heart.

“of course, i’m marrying him,” she replied, dropping her gaze. he was looking at her so intensely, she felt like he would see right through her. she turned around and walked out the door.

raleigh followed her and turned her back around to face him. “no, look me in the eye and tell me that you love him,” raleigh demanded firmly, grabbing her chin gently and lilting her face up so she was looking up at him.

“raleigh, i—”

“cadence, babe? there’s someone i want you to meet,” matt called out from behind her, cutting her off.

she gave her best apologetic look to raleigh and said, “i better go.”

as she turned around, he grabbed her hand gently and whispered in her ear, “you haven’t answered my question yet.”

cadence chose to ignore him as she followed matt to the other side of the room, toward his hollywood friends, all of whom she had met before. they ducked behind the group inconspicuously.

“are you okay? things looked a bit tense,” matt asked softly once he was sure that his friends were effectively blocking cadence from raleigh’s view.

5 months ago

“are you okay? you look a bit tense,” matt said, his tone friendly and free of judgment, which cadence appreciated.

“my publicist wants us to be in a fake relationship. i’m just tired of that sort of thing and thought she’d be a little more understanding since it hasn’t been that long since my last relationship ended.”

matt looked at her thoughtfully. “i gathered that most of the songs we filmed these music videos for were about at least one past relationship, but they were all about the same guy, weren’t they?”

cadence nodded, somewhat grateful that she was feeling too down to feel embarrassed that matt figured out she was still pining for raleigh.

“well, why don’t we try dating for real? it might help you move on and we’d still give our publicists the public relationship they want,” matt suggested. “and who knows? if everything goes well, we can even get engaged.”

cadence was surprised at the sincerity in matt’s voice. she tilted her head as she considered what he was really suggesting. “that would definitely catch everyone’s attention. okay, let’s do it.”

“i’m fine. mission accomplished,” she said, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“it’s not over until it’s over,” matt said, caressing his thumb over the diamond on her finger. “but maybe it’s time to make it official.”

cadence wrapped her arms around him and let herself be comforted by matt’s strong, warm body. “thanks matt. i’ll see you later.”

raleigh watched cadence make her way to the exit before following as quickly as he could. he meant it when he said he was going to get answers. by the time he made it outside, she was nowhere in sight. but he wasn’t going to give up. he flagged down the nearest cab and gave them instructions to her apartment.

when he arrived, he made his way to her unit and hesitated for a beat in front of her door. did he really want to do this? hear that she was in love with another man and was planning on marrying someone that was not him? did he no longer have a chance; was it really hopeless? raleigh lowered his hand briefly as he thought through a scenario where she was lost to him forever.

he let himself wallow for barely a minute before shaking his head angrily. cadence owed him a clear answer. and he at least owed her the truth about his feelings. he knocked twice and pressed his ear to the door. her apartment had a fairly thin door and he could only hear dead air. she probably hadn’t gotten home yet. raleigh took off his jacket and made himself comfortable on the floor. he would wait for however long it took.

cadence looked out the window of the cab as it approached raleigh’s brooklyn neighborhood. she felt a wave of nostalgia come over her at the familiar street lamps and buildings they passed. once they arrived, she quickly ducked inside the building and made her way to the elevator. there were two penthouse units on the top floor and cadence stood outside raleigh’s, suddenly wishing she had changed out of the ridiculous glittery gold dress and heels into something more casual. she steeled herself and held her chin up as she knocked on the door. after a beat, she knocked again, louder, just in case he left and went home after their brief interaction earlier than night. she hadn’t seen him leave the event and figured she might have to wait. she bunched up the skirt of her dress so she could sit on the fabric and took off her heels, sighing with relief. now all she had to do was wait.

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

#reposting for new blog #choices platinum #choices #pb choices #playchoices #choices fanfic #choices fanfics #playchoices fanfictin #raleigh carrera #cadence dorian #matt rodriguez #raleigh carrera x mc #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera x cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #not twc #my writing #my choices fics

[miaouerie]

whumptober 2020 ------ day 30. wound reveal

@whumptober2020​  Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: none

previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / → read on AO3 

“And remember, Jyn: one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing to lose…”

“Can take the day,” Jyn finishes reciting faithfully.

Saw looks at her with pride, before lowering his voice. “It is my hope you’ll have more than a sharp stick in the Arena. Your mentor will be whom you rely on to improve your odds; impress him and he can get you what you need to survive. I’ve taught you plenty—but how far you get won’t be based on your fighting skills alone.”

Jyn frowns; he can only be talking about Cassian Andor. “He hasn’t brought back any of his tributes. How can I trust him to help me?”

Saw lowers his voice even further. “You can’t. He’s been in the eyes of the Capitol for too long. But he’s your only hope in the Arena. Therefore, your only hope to get out.”

-

Saw’s words rattle around in her head as Jyn lies in her bunk. The way the train car gently sways on its tracks as it speeds its way towards the Capitol could almost be soothing, except for the fact that they’re hurtling their way to near-certain death.

…no, she can’t think like that. She tells herself it’s only a reflexive fear, borne of the circumstances that she’s been forced into of all the sheer, rotten luck in Panem. If only she hadn’t gotten reaped, she and Saw would have been able to complete their mission, then abscond out of District 5 as planned. She could have been seeing her mother again in a week’s time. If only…

Well, no use in dwelling on it now. She turns onto her side facing the bulkhead, determined to get some shut-eye before the morning brings with it the next day.

And with the next day will come the next time she sees Cassian. What transpired a few hours ago comes to mind unbidden—she had thought herself clever for kissing him to quiet his words (was he really so foolish to not think about the train being bugged?), but after he spotted the Peacekeeper approaching he reacted in kind. Taking her into his arms in a false display of intimacy like that. And it worked; the Peacekeeper quickly left them alone.

But then there was that kiss before they bid each other goodnight. He didn’t have to kiss her then, did he?

Jyn forces herself to stop thinking so she can go to sleep.

-

The morning of their first full day in the Capitol has Jyn waking up to three sharp knocks on her door.

“Jyn Erso. Breakfast is in the dining room.” That Capitol accent can only belong to Davits Draven, their escort. “I’d advise you to eat before you have your meeting with your stylist.”

The stylist. Kay. She had met them and the other stylist for Joule last night when they were prepared for the Opening Ceremony. But she already knew who they were in the way that most people in the districts, from the Games’ mandatory viewing, were familiar with the faces of stylists and mentors and victors and commentators amidst the ever-changing pool of tributes. Kay’s surgical augmentations were distinctive compared to the Capitol trends that ranged between somewhat natural and grotesque; his body was covered with a matte chrome synth skin, save for his face and hands which were kept as—presumably—his own pale skin tone. His eyes shone with a luminescence in the viewing stands that she could see from the chariot as the horses pulled to a stop around the City Circle during last night’s Opening Ceremony.  

Jyn gets out of bed, selects a normal-looking outfit from the closet, and joins the rest of the party in the dining room. Joule is talking to Cassian, probably for the first time since he went catatonic at the reaping. But at the sound of the glass doors sliding open, their attention is turned to her.

“Good morning Jyn,” Cassian says, his tone perfectly placid. “Care for some breakfast?”

She sits there and eats quietly while the conversation flows around her. Compared to the intensity that radiated off of him last night, his conversation with Joule gives off the feeling of being polite yet distant; she vaguely wonders if he wrote off her district partner as she already has.

At the conclusion of their breakfast and after Draven comes to collect Joule first for the meeting with his stylist, Cassian crosses over to her side of the table and sits down next to her. “He’s pleasant enough,” he says about Joule, “but I’m not convinced he has a chance to make it out of the bloodbath if he freezes up like that again.” He gives her a wry look. “I trust that I don’t have to worry about that with you?”

Jyn knows he’s thinking about the way she slammed the cabin door shut on the train and then tried to fight her way through a squadron of Peacekeepers; she recalls the memory with a grin. “Trust goes both ways, right? I’ll show you what I’ve got in the Training Center.”

-

Draven brings the three of them down to the level that houses the enormous gymnasium they’re to train in for the next three days and leaves them there. Joule seems at a loss for what to do but Cassian offers to point out some of the more useful, rudimentary survival skill stations, so Jyn decides to take her own tour around the periphery.

There’s the weapon stations, of course: swords, spears, knife-throwing and the like. Then there’s the skill stations, like knot tying and snares and camouflage. Then she sees there are trainers available for hand-to-hand combat.

Her hands have been itching to come to blows with someone since that Peacekeeper held a gun to her head and Draven informed her, in his gratingly crisp Capitol accent, that there was no escaping the fate decided for her the moment her name was drawn in the reaping. She decided right then and there she was going to change it in her favor.

So she goes to the combat station and easily spars with a Capitol attendant there. It’s just like sparring with Uncle Saw, so with a few words and a jerk of her head she has the other trainers that were supposed to be available for other tributes join in; first, as two against her, and then she takes on all three. The sparring match finally ends when she’s knocked to the ground and a foot is planted firmly on her chest, but the grin the trainer’s giving her doesn’t seem  mean-spirited as they help her back up. It’s only while she takes a moment to fix her bun and catch her breath that she sees what an audience she’s gathered, including attention from the Gamemakers, and that’s when the lunch session is called.

Disappointingly, Cassian is nowhere to be seen when she quickly scans the people who had been watching her. But she does accept the invitation from the Career pack to sit at their table for lunch.

-

Jyn doesn’t see Cassian again until that evening after Draven comes to collect them back up to their floor in the Tower. He’s sitting in the dining room with Kay, in different clothes than she saw him in that morning. Not that she noticed.

“I heard you impressed quite a few people in training today,” Cassian says as they eat their dinner. “How was she, Joule?”

Joule has gone quiet again. He fleetingly makes eye contact between her and Cassian before he nods his head, once.

Jyn decides to save them from the awkward pause that’ll follow. “If you stuck around, perhaps you would’ve seen it.”

A look of surprise crosses his face before Cassian lets out a short laugh. “I would’ve loved to see you sweep three trainers, but I’ll have to wait and see you in the Games. It’s up to you if you want to team up with the Careers or not but you’ve certainly got their attention, both as a potential ally and an enemy; take care to remember that. I want the both of you to check out all the weapons stations to get an idea of what will be available in the Arena but make sure you spend enough time learning survival skills. And Joule…”

The stricken sixteen-year-old boy looks up.

Cassian softens his tone. “I’m doing my best to secure sponsors for both of you. It’ll pay off in the Arena but I need you to survive for that to happen, so make the best of the next two training days and then we’ll go over final interview strategy with Draven. Alright?”

Surely he must know that Joule doesn’t stand a chance, Jyn thinks. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, giving her the impression that he’s giving himself a pep talk as much as he is to them.

-

The evening following their private sessions with the Gamemakers is when the tributes’ evaluation scores are released. For the gamblers the scores dictated the odds to bet on in macabre betting pools; for the tributes, each score was a sign of who’s a threat and who can be ignored or—for the Careers—who will be easy pickings. When Jyn’s picture is shown on the screen followed by a 11, the others congratulate her and she smiles her thanks as she thinks about Saw. Is he watching her on national broadcast? He has to be, if he’s still in District 5. Would he feel proud of her so far?

But then she has an upsetting thought: what if he’s already left the district? What if he was able to complete the mission without her and he’s already gone off to the rendezvous? What if he’s already written her off as good as dead?  

She can’t afford to think about that. After dinner she goes to the roof, wanting to get some air and privacy without locking herself up in her room. This will be the only time she’ll let herself cry, and then it’s game on. Tomorrow is the last day before the Games begin, and she’ll be spending the entirety of it with Draven and Cassian.

She finds a bench to sit down on, draws her knees up to her chest and hugs her face to her thighs. It takes a moment for the tears to come, as unused to crying as she is, but she lets out the sobs and sniffles as much as she’s able to without letting herself dwelling too much on her doubts.

When someone sits down next to her she somehow already knows it’s Cassian. He lightly touches her shoulder as if to ask permission, and when she finally peeks at him from the shelter of her arms he scoots a little closer and carefully wraps a comforting arm around her back.

They stay like that for a while until Jyn’s sure the tears have dried up. Then she asks, “Why’d you follow me up here?”

“I’m your mentor. You’re my tribute,” he says with amusement, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “But… I wanted make sure you’re alright. You’ve held up strong so far, Jyn. I know you’re committed to winning this thing.”

“I am, it’s just…” Jyn bites her lip. “I can’t help being nervous.”

“Nobody can.”

“I keep thinking about the worst.”

“…Do you want help getting your mind off of it?”

Jyn can’t help how her lips quirk up at that. “Why, are you offering?”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need. I said it on the first night; I want to help you in any way possible.”

She knows there’s suggestive intent in his words. But the way that he says it expresses a pure, earnest wish to help.

So, she doesn’t feel bad when she leans in to kiss him.

-

She can’t help but think about that last kiss and the make-out session that followed each time a silver parachute comes to her in the Arena. She’s received ten so far; in the past Games Jyn’s watched, it’s the Careers who receive the most gifts from sponsors eager to help their favored tributes win. While there were some morally repugnant people in the districts who were betting on the same tributes, ultimately only those in the Capitol could impact the odds; nobody in the districts had that much spare money to frittle away gambling on the deaths of children.

As the Games continued on, the price of sending gifts and aid increased. Even in the Capitol there was a hierarchy to sponsorship, with only the wealthiest sponsors holding sway in the endgame. The Games commentators often interviewed those uber philanthropists on the public broadcast of the Games and so Jyn even knew some of their names: Laertes Crake, Cygnus Vondel, Trimalchio Plena. Having made it this far, she wonders if any of the boons she’s received were sponsored by any of them.

It’s nighttime in the Arena. Jyn rests in the shadows of a ruined entryway, taking care to remain concealed. An unnaturally full moon illuminates the ruins of the game field; the Gamemakers made it so that each night alternated between bright moonlight and the darkness of a new moon. With each night, instead of resting, the tributes found themselves playing a deadly game of moving shadows and evasion and hunts in the dark.

Jyn wouldn’t have gotten this far in the Games without Cassian’s help; he had sent her heat vision goggles early on. The gift enabled her to evade the other tributes until more death cannons were fired, and when it came time to go on the offensive she had a frightening advantage.

But that boy from the Career pack must have gotten his hands on a pair too, because how else could he have known she was going to ambush them? He’d cut her with his blade, poisoning her with a paralytic, and she had genuinely believed she was going to die that very night. But true to her mentor’s word, the sight of a silver parachute some hours into the darkness of a new moon cut through her panic; inside was a sweet syrup that faded away the worsening stiffness in her body and left her feeling rejuvenated. She was able to get some good, actual rest for once that night.

This night hopefully she will, too. Tomorrow will be the day she has to attack the alliance stronghold, otherwise the Gamemakers might decide to set muttations on them or create some other disaster to force them into action. As she starts to doze she thinks about him. Cassian.

Going into the Games she knew she had an advantage not even the Career tributes could fathom, by virtue of being secretly trained in insurgent and resistance tactics by her uncle. But she had also known that what Saw said in their last words to each other was right: she wouldn’t make it far without help from her mentor. She would make it past the bloodbath and survive maybe a few days, but when the real challenges began she’d get killed by something or other, and there’d go any chance of her making it back to District 5 to complete the mission and get away with Saw.

While Jyn knew she must have earned some sponsors with her score from the Gamemakers’ evaluations, Cassian was ultimately the one in charge of handling them and dispensing gifts to her in the Arena. He might even have marshalled for her cause when she was in dire straits, such as when she got poisoned by that blade. Back in the Capitol he must be doing a lot for her and she can’t even begin to grasp what all of that could possibly entail; she owed him more than she could put words to.

And better still yet, after each night and day of fighting to stay alive, it felt nice and reassuring to be cared for. To know that somewhere beyond the Arena there was somebody from back home who was doing everything they could to help you. Because they believed in you. If she died in the ensuing struggle tomorrow she could at least die knowing that.

But if… when she wins, it wouldn’t be a lie to say she’s looking forward to seeing him again. To thank him. To let him know he sustained her both physically and emotionally throughout the Games. That just thinking of their last kiss on the rooftop did something to help to temper her fears, soothe her nerves after the stress of each day, and feel more ready to face the world about to kill her.

She thinks about these things, tucks them into the warm recesses of her heart. She might be facing certain death tomorrow but she won’t let his help be in vain.

And then disaster strikes with the earthquake.

-

Time is moving too erratically for Jyn to keep up.

It had seemed immeasurably long when the earth and the Arena shook beneath her feet, sifting the crumbling ruins to dust and debris on top and around her. It was a miracle that she was still alive, that the collapse of ruins she was by had pinned her leg to the ground beneath two walls that fell to support each other. Her heart beat in absolute terror, loudly and wildly out of her chest, as she waited for the dust to settle and for any possible aftershocks to finally strike her dead.

But time sped up once more once she had freed herself and made it to the general location that the alliance hideout formerly was. One moment she was emerging from her almost-tomb and in the next moment she’s leaning against the remains of a doorway to catch her breath, hardly knowing how many tributes she could take on or how many even survived.

When that dust-covered hand grabbed her ankle she had fallen in slow motion; after the eternity of one long second she was on her back, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her. Then it took several minutes to dig out her last foe—slitting her throat had only taken a second—and longer minutes still for her to bleed out and die.

Then a hovercraft whisks her away from the Arena faster than she could blink. But when it touches down and she disembarks in a stumble, the first person she sees is Cassian.

He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known; time slows down in the beat of two seconds but she doesn’t even make it into his arms before she feels a prick and her vision suddenly tunnels out. But she still saw him, and when she sees him still in the strange, continual twilight the sedatives keep her under she’s comforted.

-

He’s there when she wakes up.

It takes a while for the disorientation to wear off, but when it does she realizes that the warmth in her left hand is his hand holding hers, gently. Her vision’s still blurry but she doesn’t need to wait for it to clear to know that it’s Cassian sitting next to her, just like she knew it was him that night on the roof. Aside from his genuine smile he looks so flawlessly styled—manufactured—as all things were in the Capitol. She had liked the scruff on his jawline and the stubble heading down his throat from when they had boarded the train, but after they arrived  Kay had personally made sure Cassian’s facial hair was meticulously groomed. Not a hair where it needn’t be.

She wonders how long it will take to grow back once they’re back in District 5. Back home in District 5…

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“How long have I been out for?”

“Five days. The poison that Career used to paralyze you came from a muttation; they had to detoxify your blood and run a lot of tests to make sure that it was all gone. Now, how are you feeling?”

Jyn tries to answer, but the way Cassian is looking at her makes her feel a little floaty, a little warm; like maybe the sedatives haven’t fully worn off yet. But she does manage to say, “I’m feeling okay. Thank you. Really. For taking care of me in there.”

Cassian’s gaze softens to something less intense, but still profound. He looked at her the same way after their make-out session on the rooftop, so she isn’t surprised when he leans in to kiss her.

He has to prop one arm on the other side of the bed to steady himself as their lips meet. It’s soft, chaste; they meet again, and again, and then he leans in close to her ear.

“Do you remember our first kiss on the train?”

Of course she does. “I do; why?”

“Can you pretend like that for me again? Once we’re out of here?”

It’s said like a flirt, but his words snap Jyn back to full awareness of their situation: she has just won the 70th Hunger Games. She had been resting and unconscious for the past few days but once she’s discharged Kay and the prep team are going to prepare her for the Closing Ceremony. To be paraded in front of the Capitol on Panem’s national broadcast as the newest victor, with her stylist, prep team, escort, and mentor. And then she will be crowned by President Snow.

Her mind flits over all of their conversations. Are they in trouble? They had talked about treasonous things, but that was under the sound of a thousand tinkling wind chimes; she’s sure that Cassian wouldn’t have brought her there for a private talk to be eavesdropped on.

Or by ‘pretend’, does he mean how they faked a passionate moment to deflect suspicion?

That must be it; she can read in his face the plea for her to understand. With him this close to her, she notices there’s a tension to his body that belies the playfulness of his words.

Jyn nods before reaching to pull him closer to her and kiss him again. For now she wants to ease his worry; Cassian will tell her in due time, and then they can face it together. After the last two weeks Jyn is confident they can.

#whumptober2020 #no.30 #wound reveal #rogue one #the hunger games #fic #sacchi writes #cassian andor #jyn erso #rebelcaptain #we finally got here lads #no warnings except if you've been keeping up with this story expect a boatload of dramatic irony angst #word count: 3.6k

[theatrediva1975]

Coop | Seal Team

Summary: Bravo 4 makes a trip cross country following the events of “Never Out of the Fight”, S2, Ep22.

Pairings: Trent Sawyer, OC Zoe “Coop” Cooper

Zoe Cooper let out a shaky breath as she turned the key in the ignition and her Jeep engine quieted in the dark outside her bungalow. Letting her head thump back against the leather headrest, yet another tear rolled down her cheek. After all these years, she thought that this - saying goodbye - would get easier. But it didn’t. How could it? These were kids she was losing. No matter how hard she tried, how hard her team fought, it was just never enough for so many of these kids they were trying to help, to save. The drugs and the violence - they were losing more than they were saving most days.

She knew she was winding down. After all these years working with so many troubled kids, each loss weighed heavier and heavier on Zoe’s heart. Losing Miguel tonight...she shook her head, trying to erase the image of the 15 year old as the light went out of his eyes.

Zoe took a deep breath and got out of the Jeep, grabbing her bag from the back seat. She was halfway up the walkway when she looked up and saw soft light streaming out her living room window. She didn’t recall leaving a light on when she left at first light. She had wanted to get some painting done at the studio before she headed to the outreach center for what she thought was a short afternoon but turned into a ten hour long nightmare.

Looking back out to the street, Zoe didn’t see anything much out of the ordinary except for a blue sedan parked across the street. Turning back to the front door, she uncapped the mace on her key ring but changed her mind. Instead, she reached into her bag to put her hands on her Smith & Wesson. Only two scenarios came to mind - either her ex had shown up for a booty call (fat chance) or someone had neatly broken in and announced themselves by leaving the lights on while they tossed the joint. Whichever one, she was ready for either.

Quietly sliding the key into the lock, she found it already undone. Strangely, as she cracked the door open, she smelled something delicious coming out of the kitchen.

Definitely not her ex.

He could burn water.

So, burglar who cooks dinner as a way of saying sorry?

“You can put that away,” the voice said.

That voice.

No, it couldn’t be, Zoe thought. Could it?

Taking another step into her living room, Zoe froze in place as the body that the voice belonged to stepped around the corner.

“Hey Coop,” he said softly.

Zoe took one look at the clean shaven face and short hair…

And busted out laughing.

Looking nearly the same as he looked when they first met all those years ago, when he was starting BUD/S and she was tending bar in that dive just off base, stood Trent Sawyer.

Rolling his eyes at her, Trent shook his head, spread his arms out and turned in a circle in the dining room archway. “Go ahead, yuk it up. But this is actually what I’m supposed to look like. Not the long haired hippie freak look you love so much,” he joked with her, a small smile on his face. Man, he had missed her laugh.

But then the laugh began to fade out and the look on her face - one of surprise and joy at his arrival twisted into one of pain and misery as her laughs turned into sobs. In three strides, Trent was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she collapsed against his chest. Not completely sure what was going on, he just held her tightly until she was ready to tell him what was going on.

After several minutes, and no signs of being cried out, Trent bent down and picked Zoe up, bridal style and sat down on the couch in front of the large picture window that dominated the front of the house. Now set in his lap, Zoe curled in even further into Trent’s chest. He slowly ran his hand up and down her spine, hoping to soothe her a bit, calm her down. He rested his cheek atop her head and whispered affirmations, letting her know he was there, she was safe and that he had her.

Always.

He cupped the back of her head with his right hand, kissing her forehead as another wave of emotion hit her. He ran his left hand lightly up and down her right arm, noticing a few new pieces of art that hadn’t been there the last time they saw each other. It had been nearly two years after all. He had been spun up to Liberia, Estonia, South Sudan, the Triple Frontier, deployed to Afghanistan - again. If he was honest, he probably could’ve come to visit after the helo crash but he had felt compelled to stay close to home while the team recovered. He and Coop had talked and she understood his need to stay close. Then Alanna died, they lost Adam in Mumbai, deployed to Mexico, almost lost Sonny, Clay, Ray. Now Swannie. It had gotten to be too much and he needed time.

So after visiting his mother, he got on a plane and landed in San Diego seven hours later, rented a car and was digging up the rock in the Coop’s backyard with the spare key in it without really thinking about it. It had always been like that between them. Just show up. No questions asked. After another few minutes lost in thought, Trent noticed that Zoe’s breathing started to even out. While there were still a few hitches in her breath here and there, she seemed calmer and Trent started to wonder if she had fallen asleep in his arms. It wouldn’t be the first time. But after another minute, Zoe lifted her head. “Hi,” she smiled sadly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Looking into her bright blue eyes, Trent pushed a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “Hi. Surprise,” he chuckled.

Zoe smiled a little brighter in response to the levity.

“Definitely. And one I needed tonight,” she replied, as she tucked her head back against his chest.

“You hungry?” Trent inquired. “I managed to scrounge together the ingredients for some spaghetti.”

Zoe smiled into his chest and hugged him a little tighter. “Do you mind if we just sit like this for a little longer?”

“Bad day?”

Tears threatened again as she nodded. Curling further into Trent’s chest, Zoe took a deep breath and said, “Can’t talk about it yet.”

Pressing his lips against her forehead, Trent simply nodded, learning long ago that Zoe wouldn’t talk until she was ready to. Her stomach, however, had other ideas, growling loudly. Trent chuckled. “When was the last time you ate?” he queried. Zoe shrugged her shoulders. She honestly couldn’t remember. A scone with her coffee at the studio? Some chips or a bite of a sandwich at lunch?

Zoe lifted her head to once again look into Trent’s eyes. She lifted her right hand, lightly running her finger tips along his jawline. She smiled softly, remembering the clean shaven young sailor who walked into the bar she was tending in Coronado all those years ago. They had clicked immediately. She had been dating...Matt? Steven? Bodhi? Hell, she couldn’t remember after all these years. Didn’t matter. She had been involved with someone, Trent had had a girl “back home” but they still clicked and started a friendship that had outlasted every other relationship both of them had had. He was her rock, and she believed she was his, though he’d never said it out loud. Hell he was here, wasn’t it.

Wait, she thought. Why was he here?

“What’s with the babyface?” she questioned.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Trent dropped his eyes. “Funeral,” he answered.

Before he even knew what was happening, Zoe flipped up and straddled Trent’s lap, wrapping her tattooed arms around his neck and squeezing as hard as she dared. “I am so sorry,” she cried. “God, I suck. Here I am, freaking bawling and mopey and you spent all day on a plane to get here to get away from all that and I just...just, ugh, I’m sorry!”

Trent chuckled at her. His Zoe. Just like that, she could flip that switch and all of a sudden, BAM! All that focus was on someone else now, her own pain and heartache forgotten. His arms snaked around her waist and held her just as tight as she held him. It always amazed him how they were the only ones who could do this for the other - hold each other tight enough to glue all the broken pieces back together.

They sat like that for another few moments until Zoe’s stomach once again made it’s displeasure at being empty known. Both chuckling, they pulled away from each other after a brief forehead bump and got up off the couch.

For the next hour, the two old friends sat at Zoe’s dining room table, eating spaghetti and a small Caesar salad Trent had thrown together with what was left in Zoe’s fridge. As they were loading the dishwasher, she turned to Trent and asked the question she always hated asking when he came to visit. “So,” she began. “How long do I have you for?”

Turning back to her from the stove, Trent smiled at her. “Return flight is on Monday at 1:20 pm.”

Zoe’s head snapped up so fast, Trent thought she would give herself whiplash. “I have you all weekend?” she asked incredulously. Rarely did his schedule allow him the opportunity to spend more than 24 hours with her. Now she had him for 3 and a half days. She jumped up in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist like a koala bear. It was his favorite thing in the world when she did that.

“Yep, all weekend,” he managed to get out, given the squeeze around his neck.

Zoe felt lighter, just a bit. While she was pretty sure there was going to be a funeral that weekend, at least he would be with her. She always felt like she could get through anything as long as she had her best friend by her side.

“Coop…” Trent whispered. “Can’t...breathe!”

Rolling her eyes, Zoe pulled back, releasing some of the tightness in her hold on him. She was, foolishly, she knew, scared that if she totally let go, he would disappear and that was not something she could handle right now. He was there and she was going to take full advantage of having him by her side the next few days.

Knocking her forehead against his, she let out a sigh that turned into a full blown yawn. Trent chuckled at her. “Am I boring you already? I can always get on the next flight back to Virginia Beach,” he kidded with her, even as he pulled her even more snugly against his body, hoping she understood he was just messing with her.

As he suspected, she again adjusted her grip around his neck in protest. “Not happening, big guy. You’re mine until 1:20pm Monday afternoon. And not one second sooner,” she protested. Unfortunately the force of said protest was nearly drowned out by another yawn.. Trent looked over at the clock hanging on the dining room wall and saw that it was after midnight now. No wonder she’s exhausted, he thought. With whatever it was that happened today, combined with the time, he knew he needed to get her to bed.

“Come on, Coop, time for some sleep,” Trent informed her.

Not even bothering to set her feet on the floor, Trent flipped the switch on the wall and walked back into the living room, flipping the wall switch in there as well. He carried Zoe down the hallway to the bedroom and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. Zoe answered with a small howl of complaint. “Rude,” she snapped at him, as he chuckled at her.

“Go get changed,” he ordered. Sticking her tongue out at him, Zoe started walking towards the en suite when she stopped in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

Zoe turned back to Trent with the same sad look that had haunted her face earlier. Tears threatening to spill again, Trent walked around the foot of the bed and put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. Letting out a shaky breath, Zoe quietly began to speak.

“His name was Miguel. He was coming to the center this afternoon to help tutor some of the younger kids,” she said with a small sob. “He was so good with them. He made doing homework fun for them. He would do these little puppet shows or come up with silly songs to sing to them to help them memorize how to do a math equation. Sometimes, I would stay late and paint at the center and he would hang out and ask me all kinds of questions about art and painting and history. He was such a good kid” Tears were freely flowing down her cheeks again. “It was a fucking drive-by. He didn’t deserve...in the middle of the street for Crissakes…surrounded by strangers,” she choked out. “Trent, he died in my arms.” Now fully sobbing, Zoe sank to the floor, in the doorway of her bathroom, repeating one word.

Why...

Once again, Trent felt more than a little helpless. All he could do was hold her, and hope that the newly broken pieces could somehow fit back together, but he knew that wasn’t how it worked. All he could do was sit on the floor with her, stroke her hair and hold her tight until she was able to cry it all out.

Slowly, Zoe’s uncontrolled sobbing started to slow. Her breath continued to hitch every so often. Trent had to admit, this was not the most comfortable position but he refused to move until Zoe did. He was a SEAL after all. He had been in much, much worse conditions. At least here, there was air conditioning. The hardwood floors sucked though.

Trent felt Zoe going limp in his arms, so he looked down to see that she had, indeed, cried herself to sleep. Not wanting to spend the night on the floor if he didn’t have to, Trent began to stand up and move Zoe to her bed. She flinched and grabbed the front of his shirt tighter. “It’s ok, hon. I’m still here,” Trent said. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“Better not,” Zoe sleepily mumbled.

Smirking, Trent started to pull the covers down the bed, laying Zoe down on the cool sheets. “Sweetie, let’s at least get these jeans off of you, ok?”

Zoe just grunted at Trent. Shaking his head in amusement, Trent gently stripped her out of her jeans. He left everything else as his because, frankly, he valued his life. The one time he thought he was being helpful by taking her bra off when she had passed out after a long night of tequila, her foot connected with his junk and he swore he didn’t sit right for a week. So, friendship ended at taking her jeans off.

Zoe was still whimpering in her sleep, so Trent decided to just kick off his shoes, take off his own jeans, and crawl in next to her. As he was getting ready to turn the light off and climb into bed, something caught his eye. Zoe’s tank top had ridden up just a little, just enough for Trent to see a tattoo he never remembered seeing.

It was his insignia. Well, the Bravo insignia.

And it was right on her ribcage.

As he got closer, Trent saw that underneath the small insignia it said “TSB4”.

Trent Sawyer. Bravo 4. His initials and his call sign.

“Hey,” Zoe sleepily called out.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Trent replied as he turned off the light on the bedside table. In the dark, Trent got settled in bed and pulled Zoe’s back to his front, winding his right arm around her waist. Zoe ran her hand down his arm, over the scars no one else ever wanted to look at or acknowledge, let alone touch. But Zoe? She never shied away from touching him there. She always said it meant he lived. She touched it because she could, because he was still here.

Trent lightly kissed the back of her head as Zoe linked her fingers with his. “Love you,” she said sleepily.

“Love you, too,” Trent answered, as he squeezed her just a little bit tighter into him, drifting off to sleep with Zoe in his arms was always the best night's sleep he had.

#seal team #trent sawyer #seal team cbs #oc

[everythingoesnk]

Good man

summary; you’re an angel (literally an angel) and the world needs you. what for? to babysit mclennon. spoiler: you cannot resist john.

word count; 3 248

disclaimers; i’m SO proud of this but give me feedback lol you just can’t imagine how much it helps and motivates to keep writing

warnings; cannot think of one.

********

Too many of yours had been killed. Many others were still held in custody, tortured for the sole purpose of unleashing a war your community had been avoiding.

The smartest decision would’ve been to end the nonsense and face the enemy head-on, but again, you were angels. Dialogue always came first.

You learned the lesson.

This last year you’d been training and developing physical skills that initially don’t belong to your committee. What you didn’t know was the irrefutable decision the Parliament imposed in one of their meetings that they later would communicate to the nation: put into practice, only if necessary, the fighting tactics that you acquired. Not here, but on Earth. Long story short, become guardians. A large number of people understand that as angels that’s what you are. They’re not wrong, in a way.

On a final note, the Parliament concluded that its best pupils would descend to protect humans from the vehemence of the Evil.

Each angel has two people assigned.

Yours are Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

//

18th of June 1967, 15:18 pm

“Today marks six months since we met, and on top of that, it’s my birthday. Have you bought me anything?” Paul inquired from the sofa, straightening his neck to get a better view of your face.

It was difficult with you staring out the window, scanning every inch of the street and skyline, never turning to show any interest in what he was saying.

Dropping his head backwards, he added quietly, “And nothing happened”

“Is that disappointment in your tone?” you asked impassively, still not turning.

“Disappointment is not the word”

“What’s the word then?”

Your eyes travelled to a different point. No longer on the clouds that ventured the signs of a storm but on your partner and one of the other three funky insects.

Matt was near the metal gate, keeping an eye on the vicinities and probably rolling his eyes at the fans’ screeches coming from behind the entry, crying for any sort of interaction with their idols.

Not far from there John was sitting on the hood of his car.

Something must have told him he was being watched because he put down the hand with the cigarette and looked up to the same window you were at almost instantly.

An uneasy feeling that you couldn’t quite describe expanded around your heart after his inquisitive stare settled on you.

Flustered, you looked coyly to the left and right, because maybe Paul shifted to your side and you didn’t notice.

That got a small laugh from John.

Paul wasn’t in the room anymore but on the bathroom taking a pee, you could hear him. Regaining your usual erect composure, your brows pinched in a frown.

John got off the hood and put out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe before heading towards the building, looking in your direction once more with hands in his pockets and a sinful smirk tickling his lips.

“No,” you told Paul, observing John until he couldn’t be seen no more.

He shot you a confused glance as he finished pulling up the zipper.

“Babe, be more specific”

“I didn’t buy you anything” you concretized, facing him, “but I’m here to save your life in case you need to be saved. And if the moment comes I will, I’m a good warrior”

Paul blushed. He flapped his hand at you.

“It was a joke”

“I hope you were joking too about ‘nothing’ happening. You should be grateful you weren’t in any danger just yet”

You swore you could boil an egg in his face.

//

18th June 1967, 15:39 pm

“We’ll be back before dinner” Matt informed, putting on a jacket.

“Do the wings break through the clothes when you… invoke them?” Ringo asked.

George and John didn’t make any witty remarks, wondering the same secretly.

You and Matt exchanged looks. He shrugged and you thought it wasn’t worth your time answering.

“We do not invoke them. They appear when we need them”

Ringo kept asking questions but you didn’t focus on them, after all he was Matt’s responsibility. He was taking them –George and Ringo– to pay a visit to their wives. Matt missed driving so they didn’t mind him taking the wheel.

In Paul’s case it was Linda and her guardian who dropped by every now and then.

Due to the first impression of them, you thought Paul and John would be more demanding, however, they didn’t bother you and mostly stuck to doing their own thing.

Paul was taking a nap in the room next door; John’s whereabouts were unknown. You had to find him for his safety.

Gliding down the corridor you bumped into him.

You folded your arms across the chest.

“Where were you?”

“A fan dodged security and was waiting for me in the lobby. We talked for a bit and snapped a picture”

“For the thousandth time,” you groaned, annoyance streaming through your body like lava, “do not speak to anyone if I’m not around! Why do you keep disobeying my instructions?”

“She looked regular” he justified.

You looked at him as you might a cockroach.

“Demons disguise themselves accurately to fool jerks like you” you spat out.

Pulling a theatrical painful face, he brought a hand down to hold on to his dick and testicles, simulating that your words kicked him just there.

“Lennon, do not make it harder than it needs to be. I didn’t choose to have to follow you around like a puppy”

“Alright, can you take a moment to try and understand how overwhelming the situation is for us as well?” he argued, putting on hold his reckless demeanour.

Rubbing your eyes you sighed, “Yes, I can, but—”

“Forgive me”

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again”

A tender grin formed on his face, content that you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Before I got interrupted I was actually on my way to get you. I wanna show you something”

You rolled your eyes. He’s so random.

Back in the room, he went straight to the piano. After tuning it his eyes wandered to the empty space he had next to him on the bench, waiting for you to take it.

Your expression switched from curious to stupefied.

Following his command you sat down.

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and from lips to his fingers. He played so carefully and delicately in the beginning, introducing the prologue of his piece, that you lost yourself somewhere in the middle of it. Recalling the day you entered Heaven you shivered.

Music filled the air, hijacking every part of your mind.

The melody began to change, more macabre and haunting. It reminded you of everything beginning to fall apart, when the enemy showed no mercy and without guilt slayed the innocent.

You weren’t aware of how you were digging your fingernails in his leg, the shrieks of the victims ringing in your ear.

John stopped playing, placed his hand on top of yours and clasped it firmly, looking concerned.

You shook your head and instead walked away, needing space.

John squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath and sauntered up to you. Brows together, you shrank back.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, respecting the distance.

You remained quiet, head buzzing.

He squinted at you and tilted his head.

“Talking about it might help you”

“Have you taken it on yourself to be my personal psychologist?”

He held your gaze. It was the pain talking, not you. He knew and he was going to be patient.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. Any of this”

“Stop”

“You need to hear it. You have this vast weight on your shoulders—”

“I could’ve done something!” you hollered, saturated with the remorse you’d been accumulating. You knew you weren’t responsible for the cataclysm. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. “Those monsters killed them in front of me! Marta, Norman, Charlie! I can still feel how my body jarred after witnessing every stab and poisoned bite. Blood was gushing out of their mouths and I did nothing!”

The image of you petifried watching them die and not being able to help repulsed you.

How could you have been so cruel?

John held his breath. That was what was torturing you.

“You aren’t responsible for their deaths”

“Aren’t I?” you fumed, the void in the middle of your heart widening. “You know nothing”

The bitterness in your voice made his nostrils flare.

Through his bones echoed the determination to cure your scars. However, he understood it wasn’t his job to heal you.

“And I’ll never get to apologize”

You could sense John’s question without him actually asking.

“Demons get to exist thanks to the souls they rip from their owners. The bodies vanished after that” you explained, feeling dizzy.

Throat dry, you brought a hand to your forehead.

Beneath your typical mask of coldness never would have John imagined you were battling against yourself.

It brought him back to when he felt like he could have prevented his mum from leaving the house, saving her life. He was seventeen. Seventeen, not three or four. He could have warned her about the insanity of driving under those conditions. The wind was brutal that day, and it rained cats and dogs. Instead, he kissed her cheek good-bye and went to his room.

He blamed himself too at first. It was a long and tormenting process, but he comprehended he wasn’t guilty. You’d get to that point eventually, he thought, you’d have only gotten yourself killed too if you’d have intervened.

The breeze that came through the window dried your tears and moved the hair away from your notable cheekbones. He attempted to reach out to you for the second time. You just stared at him, biting your quivering lower lip. He stood before you, eyes boring into your mournful ones.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you slowly against him. You sobbed into his chest as you snuggled closer for shelter.

John pressed his cheek onto the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault” he repeated, emotion palpable in his tone.

It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.

//

2nd of February 1968, 12:13 pm

Matt dug his elbow into your ribs.

“He fell for you,” he said with a huge smirk, and imitated your pose: hands laced behind the back, eyes closed and body toward the sun taking in its pleasant rays.

“Shouldn’t have” you muttered after a pause, forcing the letters out of your mouth.

“That card you keep playing of apathy is ridiculous”

“I’m not playing any apathy card”

“Pretending you have no feelings for John won’t make it easier tomorrow”

You blinked and turned to him. He opened his and fixed them on you.

“I’m simply prioritizing other things”

“What other things are those?”

He knew already.

He knew that the things you just claimed to prioritize over your damn feelings were nonexistent. Like always, he was right. You didn’t want to triple the suffering that implied separating from John by confessing.

War was over. Angels defeated the beasts and freed themselves and humanity; home awaited your kind.

“My dear (Y/N),” Matt laughed dreamily, “you have all the time in the world to wait for him. Find out if he will still love you then”

//

3th of February 1968, 18:21 pm

John lost track of the number of times he rehearsed the torrent of words he planned on telling you.

He raised his hand and put it in a fist. Up in the air, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to knock on the door. Explicit terms and a deep groan escaped his lips. He dropped it and inhaled deeply, heart pounding frantically.

When he thought he was ready to finally do it Paul emerged from the closest corner, sprinted and knocked four times, running afterwards to the room that George and Ringo shared before John could catch him. And he did try.

“Ay! You want a fuckin’ hole in your face, you punk?!” he banged on their door, getting angrier with their laughs.

He almost lost it when Ringo hummed ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.

Nonplussed, you crossed your arms and stood watching John from your spot after opening the door.

Just like before, his sensor did not fail him. He stopped his actions shortly and whirled around. Reddening abruptly, for a second he was sure his face was on fire.

You cleared your throat.

“Well?”

Cautiously, his brain stuttering, he glided the necessary steps to be in front of you.

He opened his mouth but didn’t get to say anything because Matt appeared from behind you.

“Who is—”

Immediately after seeing John his eyes widened.

“Oh God! I’m sorry! Were you- Oh my God, I’m sorry! Shit, go on” he gasped, and literally hurried inside.

That only aggravated the layer of crimson sprayed in John’s complexion.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t, obviously he was there to make the first move. You flashed him a small smile for support. He smiled at you too in return.

“Follow me”

Imperceptible in his voice, he succeeded in hiding elsewhere he feared rejection.

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. He frowned then chuckled in realization.

“Please?”

You giggled, which sounded way too girly for your liking, and took his hand in yours.

John led the way to the rooftop of the hotel.

Garlands of white and pink roses decorated the space, and since the sun was setting, you got to see how the orangy golden lights ghosted over John’s skin which made him look not handsome but celestial. At the distance, a trail of a plain crossed the horizon. You admired the view for a few more seconds and then drifted your eyes back to him.

The kindness and love reflected in his felt as warm as a kiss on the forehead of your favourite person in the world.

“I have to be quick, you don’t have much time”

He wasn’t wrong. You had to leave soon.

“Here, take this” he handed you a paper folded in half. “Open it when you’re there”

You averted the gaze towards the sheet and nodded. His eyes desperately searched yours again. Every second counted.

“I love you” he blurted out, a bizarre combination of panic and hope evident on his face. Like a child who just confessed that he broke granny’s vase, praying not to be grounded. “And I really, really want to kiss you”

The longing in his request melted your heart.

When you were about to let him know that you wanted it too you felt it in your back. You felt the muscles pulling the skin, pushing to make their way through to the outside.

One moment they weren’t there the other your wings were now displayed broadly for him to see.

They raised themselves, ready for departure.

John’s mouth fell open.

Unable to stop staring at their grandiosity and splendour, heartbeat wildly pumping, he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said breathlessly.

With tears in your eyes, you cupped his head in your hands and laid your mouth on his mouth without prior notice.

In that very instant, right there, the world stopped spinning.

He moved his silky wet lips against yours, pressing you further in until there was no space in between when the saltiness of your teardrops mixed with the saliva.

Your wings started aching awfully by now, and you knew what that meant.

Not wanting to, you pulled back from the kiss, lips burning.

“No” he purred, holding you in place, fingers gripping so tight around your upper arms that the skin beneath them turned white.

“John, it’s time”

Brokenhearted, you withdrew fully after rubbing your noses in an affectionate eskimo kiss.

You nudged intimately his chin up with your thumb.

John didn’t want to miss the opportunity to absorb your dazzling beauty thus he forced his eyes open.

“Part of my heart will stay with you. Remain a good man, Lennon, and return it to me. I trust that we’ll meet again in due course”

3th February 1968, 23:33 pm

Excitement throbbed in you. Seating cross-legged, you created walls with your wings to avoid snoopers and unfolded the paper.

It was a piano score. At the bottom of it, written in his handwriting, was a small note:

“I changed the ending. Now it’s about finding peace and picking up your broken bits to build a stronger armour. You’re a fierce woman, (Y/N), but whenever that feeling tightens and saddens your heart, play this”

Tangled in a mix of joy and sorrow, you half smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek and chin, landing in John’s signature.

//

8th December 1980, 22:50 pm

Everyone fell silent.

You noticed that all of your fellow companions and friends had their gazes bonded to the same spot. Slowly, you turned to check what they were looking at, and you nearly passed out.

He rarely visited. Only when he had good reasons to.

Gait steady, knowing very well what he was doing, he gave a quick look around as he paced.

His eyes found you.

Saint Peter offered you a reassuring smile, causing everyone to snap their heads at you.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”

You swallowed.

“Y-yes?” you sputtered.

“I believe you’ll want to see this”

Uncertain, you joined him, not before sending Matt a doubtful look.

In any case, all your questions were answered when you reached the Gates and saw who was waiting for you. His wings were even more impressive, glittering and elegant than anyone else’s.

He was touching their feathers, inspecting them.

You ran to embrace him. Off guard as you took him, his arms were trapped under yours, preventing him from being able to hug you back.

“You shouldn’t be here. What happened, John?” you said, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“(Y/N)…” Saint Peter warned.

Under no circumstances it was allowed to ask for the reason behind someone’s death nor tell yours. It was the rules; the subject was forbidden.

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

Taking a couple of steps back, you looked up to him. John bored his eyes into yours, lips stretching into a dainty smile.

“Hello, love. I took great care of the piece of your heart that you borrowed me” he said, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “The time has come, I can give it back”

“It was for you, dummy” you answered with a laugh, voice cracking.

He dropped his head shyly to the floor, smile growing larger.

You followed where his eyes were pointing at, only to see his bare toes scrunching into the delicacy and softness of the cloud, getting familiar with it.

“I’m sorry you’re here” you whispered, honestly horrified that he didn’t get the chance to grow old.

“I was never scared of dying,” he spoke, slowly raising his head, “because I knew I’d be with you”

Staring at each other, none spoke for a moment.

“I love you too, by the way,” you admitted, pink arising in your cheeks. “I realized after I left that I didn’t say it back”

John smirked. He caressed your face and you felt the butterflies in your tummy flutter.

Love danced in the brightness of his eyes.

“Show me Heaven, (Y/N)”

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