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#we celebrated with the whole family last night but it was pretty dodge
ronearoundblindly · 1 year
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Sneak Peek (Root of All Ransom pt. 5)
Warnings for language (that feels obvious at this point but I'm gonna keep repeating it) but I think that's it. Oh, and Thrombeys are dicks. WC 600
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Ransom pulls out the chair beside his mother for you to sit in. He didn’t think about how you’d leave your Birkin by his coat in the foyer. You’re not like Linda that way either; she carried it at her side everywhere, even in the house. The least he can do is sit the beautiful young woman right next to that white-haired wench.
You look so feminine and regal compared to his mother’s teal power jumpsuit or whatever half-velvet, half-satin monstrosity she chose.
“Oh, hello, dear,” Linda chirps to you, watching Ransom sit on your other side, “don’t you look lovely.” His mother twitches her fingers like she needs a cigarette, and the whole night is already worth skipping any hanky panky before arrival. You do look lovely. It makes him look good. He’s winning.
When food is set down in front of the group by catering staff, you immediately offer appreciation, and Ran parrots the ‘thank you.’ He doesn’t think much of it. He just takes your cue. Ransom has always known how to be decent; he chooses not to be out of spite…except near you.
Meg, subtle as ever, word vomits “holy shit” in response to Hugh Ransom Drysdale thanking the fucking help. When Ran catches her eye, Meg raises her brows and snaps her wrist like she’s cracking a whip. He scowls back, but his cousin is too far across the table to curse without upsetting you, so he just mouths ‘get fucked’ at her.
“Well, Dad,” Walt starts too loudly for the table, “in celebration of your big day, I hope you don’t mind me sharing some news about our amazing quarter at the publisher’s.”
Harlan cuts into his meal, wearing his signature, catch-all smirk.
“‘Our,’ my ass,” his mother whispers to you, wine glass raised to cover her lips.
You very, very quietly giggle, and Ran doesn’t fucking like that one bit.
“Hell of a year,” Walt continues, oblivious, “hell of a year, but particularly great because we hit just shy of one point eight million in the last few months.”
“Oh wow,” Joni moans, pressing a bony hand into the ruffles of her blouse, and it is good news. Her eyes may as well morph into dollar signs.
“‘Night of the Dead Phoneline’ was a fun one,” Harlan mutters before another bite.
It is a tidy sum, one that his family would absolutely drool over, one that has taken decades to build, but also one that Ransom knows pales in comparison to what you handle on a daily basis. 
He only needs to glance at you to know not to say anything.
His mother does not notice your modesty, exuberant to swat her little brother back into place.
“That is nice, Walt,” Linda barely tilts the glass in his direction before turning to you. “Tell me, dear, I read that your home offices are being fully renovated for the first time since you took over the building. Must cost a pretty penny to upgrade all that.”
“Uh-huh,” you dodge while Ransom stares daggers over your shoulder.
Subtlety is not Linda Drysdale’s forté. “How much?”
“The last estimate I got was forty-three but was missing final approval from the technical department so…I’m preparing for fifty.”
“Thousand?” Jacob asks in the fleeting moment he’s not looking down at his phone.
“No,” you sigh, “million.”
Linda relishes Walt’s shock while Meg’s eyes bug out. Jacob simply scoffs, back to staring at his screen instantly. He’s annoyed—furious actually—that Linda claims your success for herself, gears turning to plot revenge in your honor.
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Why is this family so damn fun to write??? It's not fair.
Interested? Start reading this story here!
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theclownpatrol · 2 months
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i woke up like an hour ago and i'm finally awake enough to put thoughts into words
so we went after the nest last night. we had thrown a couple ideas around as to how we were going to deal with the mother clown, but what we landed on was trying to like. fumigate the cave with raid. i couldn't find any research or evidence that raid is effective against mother clowns, but we figured that even if it's not a weakness of theirs the chemicals probably aren't good for it anyway. we probably weren't going to be able to beat the thing in combat so that seemed like our best option
we bought a couple of tarps and a whole bunch of cans of raid (probably around 30- we had to break up the purchases between different people, stores, and days to avoid being suspicious). luckily the cave is relatively shallow for a cave and so it was a somewhat smaller space that we needed to fill with the spray. we secured the tarps to cover the opening of the cave as best we could, and we started just unloading the spray into the cave
i guess it took a few minutes for the spray to build up enough for the mother clown to notice. i looked it up and apparently raid acts as a kind of nerve gas for bugs and it seems like it has a similar effect on mother clowns, but unlike normal bugs these things can scream. once it got hit by the stuff it started shrilling really loud- it was louder than we expected, tbh, although part of it might be that it was echoing in the cave
we braced ourselves for it to come charging out of the cave at us, and we did hear it scuttle closer, but it succumbed to the raid and didn't make it out. we were feeling pretty good about ourselves- we probably shouldn't have started celebrating as early as we did
as it turns out, last night was the full moon. i'm actually super pissed at myself for forgetting about it because normally i'm much more on top of things like that. anyway, the mother clown shrieking apparently drew the attention of a wereclown that was out and about in the woods, and after about five minutes it was attacking us
we hadn't exactly come prepared with supplies to fight a wereclown. stupid, i know, but the moon cycle had completely slipped my mind. i'm glad my grandparents don't know about our patrols bc they would never let me live this one down
luckily we did come prepared for just general clownery. we have our own hunt bag filled with basic supplies, as well as a couple of specialized weapons or items that i was able to pilfer from the larger family hunt bag. the wereclown got the jump on us, and we were way more startled than i would like to admit. chae-won had quick reflexes and sprayed the remainder of her mostly empty can of raid directly in its face. it didn't have the same effect on it that it had on the mother clown, but it clearly still disoriented it and maybe burned a little
from there we scrambled to grab supplies from the hunt bag. the thing about wereclowns is they're usually just normal and good people who were unlucky to get bitten, so we normally try to avoid killing them outright. not only would it feel pretty sucky to do so but it also would result in a missing persons case and law enforcement would start looking around, which isn't ideal
the first chunk of the fight was honestly just avoiding getting hit by the wereclown. none of us wanted to seriously hurt it and we couldn't think of a way to subdue it without doing so. luckily over the years we've all gotten pretty good at dodging
at some point scott realized he was wearing a necklace that was supposed to be made of silver. once we knew that we had at least a basic plan- chae-won and i charged the wereclown and knocked it to the ground. she sat on its legs and i pinned it by the neck so it couldn't lean up and bite me. unfortunately this left it's arms free to scratch me for a second before elliot came in and grabbed those too, but i wasn't all that concerned because it was only the bite that could turn anyone
even with all three of us trying to hold it down, we had to act fast, because it was wicked strong and would probably overpower us given enough time. scott slid in on his knees (rip to his jeans by the way they got filthy) and secured the necklace around the wereclown's neck. once it was on there the results were immediate. we backed off quick and the wereclown started writhing around, reaching up to claw at the jewelry but pulling back on contact with it. silver burns wereclowns really bad, even to the point of blistering, but unless they get stabbed with it they don't die so we didn't have to worry about that. instead with the thing in too much pain to chase us we just booked it out of there
come morning the wereclown will turn back. we're hoping whoever it is doesn't notice the necklace so that we can use it to identify who it is
anyway the whole thing was kind of a nightmare but it worked out well enough in the end. we're going to wait to go back to the nest and smash the eggs until monday to give the raid a chance to dissipate (we may not be mother clowns or bugs but it's still probably a bad idea to breathe that stuff). and to the anon that asked don't worry we're going to try and recover one to try hatching
sorry for the long post and lack of enthusiasm i am still bone tired from last night. we probably all are
still don't hesitate to reach out and we'll try to get back to folks!
-kaycee
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nerd2614 · 4 years
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Australia: As well as celebrating on New Year's Eve with everyone else, I'm going to celebrate the end of New Year's Day with just my mum.
New Zealand: Why?
Australia: No, England.
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alldayangst · 3 years
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lovebug (Tom Holland)
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GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!
A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.
“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.
Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.
Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”
Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”
And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”
Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”
Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”
“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”
It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.
He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.
“When life was beginning, I saw -”
“When life was-”
“When life was be-fuck!”
“When life was beginning, I saw you.”
Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.
“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”
“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”
You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.
“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 
“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.
You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.
“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.
Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 
“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.
“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”
Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”
“The whole crew?”
Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.
Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”
“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-
Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”
Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.
“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.
“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”
A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 
“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.
“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.
Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.
You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”
Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.
“You have a beautiful laugh.” 
You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”
“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”
You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”
By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 
“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.
“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.
The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.
“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 
You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.
It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 
Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.
Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”
The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.
A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.
You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.
The scene wasn’t working.
The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.
“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”
And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”
Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”
Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”
“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.
“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”
Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”
Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 
Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.
“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 
They’d been over this already twelve times today.
“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”
Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 
Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”
Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.
Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”
And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”
When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”
Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”
“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”
“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”
“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”
“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.
“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”
“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”
Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 
“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”
“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 
You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.
Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.
“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”
Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.
The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”
“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 
He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.
“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.
Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?
“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”
Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”
He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”
Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”
You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.
It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.
Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 
“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”
“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”
“What?”
“Lovebug.”
Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”
“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”
And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.
It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.
“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.
“Alright, everyone take five.”
“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.
“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.
Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.
“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.
Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.
“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”
When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 
Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.
“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”
“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.
“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”
“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.
“What did they say it was?”
“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.
Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.
“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”
“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.
“I just miss you, that’s all.”
“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 
“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”
Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.
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doctorstethoscope · 3 years
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The Right Chapter 22 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
helloooooo besties and happy Saturday! 
Read previous chapters of this fic here! 
contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence and death
wordcount: 1.9k 
You're passing the diamond on your chain between your fingers anxiously a few days later as you and Spencer pour over a map on the jet. You’re headed to Colorado after a family annihilator had struck twice in the same small Denver suburb. The whole town was on alert, and you needed to solve this one fast before the whole state devolved into hysteria. Hotch decided on the jet to send you, Reid and JJ to the precinct-- you and Reid will keep working on the geographic profile, and JJ will coordinate local law enforcement. He, Morgan and Emily are headed to the neighborhood to see if any of the locals had noticed anything off. 
“There has to be a connection to this specific suburb. Why come ten miles outside of Denver when the city, or even a closer suburb, would be a more target-rich environment?” You floated an idea past Spencer, who nodded in agreement. 
“You think he sought out these families in particular?” He asked, turning his attention to the pictures on the whiteboard. 
“Not necessarily. Garcia’s still looking for a connection between the families, but so far she hasn’t found one. I think these two families were practice for something worse, or for a family that matters more to him.” You conclude, hoping more than ever that you had profiled wrong. 
“If that’s the case, our presence here might trigger the unsub to escalate,” he points out with a grimace. 
“Or, hopefully, it will send him into hiding.” 
“We’ll never find him if he does that.” 
“We’re gonna have to.” You sigh, pulling your attention back towards the map. You pour over it, certain that if you look just a little closer, the answer will jump out at you, but it doesn’t. 
Geographic profiles are always helpful, and you and Spencer were great at them, but they rarely solved cases on their own. The reality of the situation is that without any info on the unsub or the connection between the victims, you were essentially trying to create something out of nothing. You push your chair out from the table, deciding to give your mind and your eyes a break, when your phone starts to ring. It’s Garcia.
“Oh, you’re just my favorite person.” You said into the phone by way of greeting, hoping that she’s going to present you with the missing piece that will make all of these seemingly unrelated pieces of information make sense together.
“Careful, peach! There’s someone else on the line who might object to that,” Garcia warns you. 
“What do you have for us, Penelope?” Aaron asks.
“So, the Sutton and Mack families have more in common than we thought-- not so much socioeconomically, but their kids were both enrolled at the local high school, although different ages, and the moms were on the PTA together.” 
“Were they friends? The kids, or the moms for that matter?” You ask immediately. 
“It doesn’t really look like it, but I’m going to keep digging,” she tells you. 
“And no connection between the fathers?” Hotch asks.
“Nope, Mr. Sutton was an attorney and Mr. Mack was a cab driver. Doesn’t seem like they ever would have met.” She tells you both. 
“Garcia, do me a favor and make sure Mr. Sutton wasn’t in Mr. Mack’s cab within the last month or so. Let us know when you have more.”
“Oh, sir, before you both go, there’s one more thing.” She blurts out before Aaron can hang up the phone.  “It’s about Josh.” 
You take a sharp breath in, and Spencer’s in tune to you immediately, his head jerking up from the maps, looking you over to make sure you’re okay. 
“What is it?” Hotch asks, sounding every bit as tense as you feel. 
“Josh was arrested this morning. Busted for possession during a traffic stop,” She tells you and you let out a sigh of relief. 
“That’s… that’s great news.” You say.
“I thought you’d both like to know.” Garcia tells you.
“Anything else?” Hotch asks, and you're perplexed by his lack of response to such a good update. 
“No, that’s all for now. I’ll call you back as soon as I have more on the case.” She says, and the line clicks.
“What was that about?” Spencer asks, bringing you back to reality, and you share the info from Garcia about the victims. You can tell that he knows that there’s more, but he doesn’t press and you don’t offer. 
“If both the kids and the moms knew each other, we could be looking at a bullied kid or a woman scorned.” You theorize. 
“A woman wouldn’t kill the kids, at least not a mother. And if the woman wasn’t from the PTA, why target these moms in particular?” Spencer argues, and you agree. 
“Could be a man, too. Maybe he’s jealous that he doesn’t have the picture-perfect family he’s destroying.”
‘That’s more likely. Although with nothing connecting two husbands, we’ll have a hard time profiling a man if that’s the case.”
“Okay, so for now we focus on the kids until we find something that pulls us another way. You want to take the Macks and I’ll work on the Suttons?” 
“Will do.”    
You work in silence for a couple more hours until Hotch, Morgan and Emily return. 
“Anything helpful?” JJ asks, coming into the room behind them. 
“The moms were friendly, but not necessarily friends. The kids mostly hung out in separate social circles, it seems.” Morgan informs you all. 
“Any obvious power imbalances between the kids groups, or bullying?” You asked. 
“None that any of the kids we interviewed brought up.” Emily tells you. 
“None of the moms mentioned it either-- and they’d be more likely to bring it up than the kids would.” Aaron tells you. 
“So we’ve got a whole lot of nothing.” JJ concludes, and you sigh. 
You all continue to work for a few more hours-- putting together profiles of each of the members of the families that ultimately bring you no closer to finding the unsub. 
“We’ll be back here first thing tomorrow morning-- there’s nothing else we can do tonight.” Hotch concludes as he pins the last index card to the cork board. “Let’s head to the hotel and get some rest.” 
Despite the exhaustion that has soaked its way deep into your bones, you and the rest of the team pull yourselves out of your chairs and towards the SUVs. You nearly sink into the leather, and if he wasn’t such a stark professional, you might have asked him to carry you up to your hotel room.  He did, however, offer you a very gentlemanly hand to help you out of the car, and wrap his arm around your waist as the two of you trudged your way into the elevator and down the hall towards your room. You collapse onto the mattress as soon as you make it through the door, and Aaron chuckles at you, taking a moment to brush his teeth and change. When he settles on top of the covers next to you, you speak up, although hadn’t really intended to do so.
“Aaron, can I ask you something?” 
“You can ask me anything, my love,” Aaron mumbles like it’s the easiest thing in the world as he leans over to set the hotel alarm clock that sits on the bedside table. 
“When Garcia told us that Josh was arrested… you didn’t seem happy.” You said, decidedly not a question. He answers you anyway, shifting towards you to look you in the eye before he speaks up. 
“I’m sorry honey. I’m relieved, of course I am. I was just focused on the case this morning. Maybe I haven’t fully processed it yet,” he confesses. “But of course I’m happy for you. I would have been happier to arrest him myself, but this is just as well.” He tells you with a rueful smirk. 
He’s lying, and you can see it in his face. Maybe lying is a strong word, but there is definitely more to it than he’s telling you. “You’re sure? There’s nothing else that’s bothering you?” You pushed, but he shook his head, looking down at his lap.
“I’m sure, doll. I really am happy. We’ll take Jack out when we get home to celebrate.” He tells you, leaning over to kiss your temple. 
“Maybe a bike ride and some ice cream? I haven’t been out on the bike with him since he got his training wheels off.” You suggested. 
“Sounds perfect,” he tells you, reaching to kiss you again and moving to wrap his arms around you, which you dodged. 
“Get the bed nice and toasty for me while I change,” you smirked, rolling off the mattress and heading towards your suitcase for some pajamas.
You were back at the police station before the sun rose the next morning, pouring over the transcripts of what had come in from the tip line the night before in the hopes that you might find something useful. Your desk looked the same way it used to when you were studying for exams in the academy-- papers and highlighters scattered everywhere, color coordinated page flags littering all of your documents. 
“Cupcake, if I didn’t know any better, I might think you were the serial killer,” Morgan comments with a smirk, setting a hot cup of coffee in a relatively-unoccupied patch of desk. 
“Very funny, Derek.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m only letting you live because you brought me coffee. And because I’m too tired to kick you,” you told him.
“Do you want any help?” He offers, and you smile, but shake your head at him. 
“No, thanks. I’ve got a pretty strict organizational system going on over here, if you hadn’t noticed,” you chuckle. “But you can come to the medical examiner’s office with me in an hour or so?” 
“It’s a date, mama.” He confirms, rapping his knuckles against your desk before going back to his own workspace. You flip through a few more pages, leaving scribbled notes and wayward highlighter in the margins, before you notice something and call Garcia. 
“Good morning, peach! What can I do you for?” Garcia asks in her usual cheery tone, clearly far ahead of you in terms of cups of coffee consumed. 
“Morning,” you say to her. “Listen, something came in through the tip line last night, and it’s probably nothing, but I just have this feeling…” 
“Lay it on me,” she tells you encouragingly. 
“So, Mark Vexper is a long-term sub at the high school where all of the kids went. He didn’t go to work the day after both of the murders. He had a scheduled personal day the first day, and he called in sick the second. Like I said, probably just a coincidence--” 
“No stone left unturned, kitten! I’m on it. Buzz you when I have more.” She says, hanging up unceremoniously.
“Good catch,” Hotch says from behind you, and you startle. 
“It’s probably just a coincidence,” you brush the compliment off. 
“Maybe, but we won’t know until we look into it,” he tells you. “You feeling okay?” He asks. 
“I just really want to catch this guy and get home to our boy.” You tell him, and his heart warms. Looking around surreptitiously, he drops a quick kiss to the crown of your head. 
“Me, too, angel. We’ll get him.” He tells you. 
An unexplainable chill runs up your spine, and you have a strange feeling that Aaron’s not talking about this unsub.
tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads
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Nessian Modern AU: Proposal
A “sequel” to the drabble here that I posted for Nessian Week. As always, what started as a drabble spawned a full-length oneshot. Anyway, writing Nessian was a joy and I look forward to writing more for them in the future. Enjoy!
Warning: Gets a little NSFW near the end because, you know. Them.
           Cassian could feel the little velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket. Were his hands shaking? He was sure they were shaking. Oh god, what if he dropped it? It probably wouldn’t go anywhere, they were pretty far from the edge of the balcony, but it would certainly be embarrassing.
           His smart watch buzzed and he looked down at it to see a text from Azriel that said Dude, you’re practically sweating through your suit. Chill the fuck out. Cassian looked up and glared over the table at him. Azriel made a little “calm down” motion with his hands, and Cassian was so wired that if they’d been sitting closer he would have decked him. Luckily, Nesta was engrossed in a conversation with Emerie and Mor and wasn’t paying attention. The way everyone kept glancing at Cassian he was sure that she would have noticed something was going on by now, but she seemed unaware.
           Of course, the party was already all about her, she just hadn’t seemed to realize that they were (hopefully) going to be celebrating more than one thing. When she had gotten accepted into law school Cassian had promised her a celebration for the ages, knowing it could double as the perfect chance to pop the question. He had tried to keep it on the down-low, but his brothers had seen right through him. As soon as he had said, “So I’m thinking about planning a trip to Vegas to celebrate Nesta getting into law school. I just want to do something really special for her, you know?” they had turned to him with matching grins and said,
           “Oh yeah? Just a casual trip to one of the most spectacular cities in the country?”
           “Any special shopping you need to do first?”
           Cassian had swung at them while they dodged and laughed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to know, it was just that he worried that someone would let something slip to Nesta and ruin the surprise. But then he realized there was no keeping everyone from knowing, because he had to ask Feyre and Elain for their blessing (they gave it readily, with squeals and big hugs), and then he had to ask Emerie and Gwyn to help him find out about rings. Now he sat with what he hoped was the perfect ring in his pocket, showy but classy, with two black diamonds set on either side of a shining two carat white diamond. Shiny and noticeable but…tastefully so, he hoped. That was what Emerie and Gwyn had reported, and really, he should have guessed that, because Nesta liked to be noticed, but only in a way where she was respected, or at least revered.
Now they sat on a private balcony for a dinner service Rhys had helped Cassian book overlooking the Vegas strip, lights and fountains glittering around them, the noise of the strip a pleasant background hum. They had all the usual suspects—Azriel, Rhys and Feyre, Mor and Amren and Varian, Elain and Lucien, and of course, Gwyn and Emerie. Everyone Cassian thought Nesta would want to be here, and the usual plus ones that had to be invited either way. He knew Nesta wouldn’t want a true Jumbotron-style public proposal, but surely this was okay, right? Just their friends? He didn’t think she’d want no one to see it, and yet—
           “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his knee. He started, almost jumping out of his skin. She laughed. “What, did I startle you, sitting here exactly where I’ve been the whole time? Where are those judo reflexes now?”
           They all had a nice buzz going, though they were refraining from getting really messy until after dinner. Nesta was maybe the most openly happy Cassian had ever seen her, smiling and laughing and shining in a way that he had never seen before. He knew she was really proud to finally be going to law school after all this time. He could only hope that after this dinner her good mood would be doubled, not dampened.
           “Anyway,” Nesta continued, scooting her chair closer to his and sliding her hand dangerously up his thigh. “Could I steal you for a minute after dessert?”
           She looked fucking stunning tonight. Not that she didn’t always, but in that little black dress with her perfect tits tastefully on display, her lithe legs in those heels, and her hair swept up and away from her neck, Cassian might have asked to marry her even if she wasn’t his girlfriend. The only thing keeping his libido in check were his nerves, and if she said yes, it wasn’t going to be much of a competition between the two anymore. But until then….
           Cassian put his arm around her shoulders, trying to act natural. “I think we’re going to have cocktails then head out and hit the Strip again.”
           Nesta raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. So it’ll be a while before we’re back in our room for the night. I was thinking we could just take a minute.” She moved her fingers on his leg again and with her other hand tilted his head to hers for a kiss. “You look so fucking good in that suit baby,” she whispered against his mouth.
           God, he couldn’t wait to marry her. He lost himself for a second, drinking in the feeling of her lips on his, her warm hand against his thigh. She had to say yes. She had to, or Cassian wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
           “Get a room!” Lucien called from the other side of the balcony. Cassian heard Elain chide him.
           Nesta pulled away and whipped back, “You are here on courtesy invite only, asshole.”
           “Nesta!” Elain complained.
           If there was anything that would put a damper on Cassian’s marriage plans it was that if he married Nesta and Lucien married Elain, he’d be stuck with the little shithead for the rest of his life. Then Cassian looked at Nesta, already laughing with Emerie again, her hand still resting on his leg, and knew that he couldn’t even pretend. Nothing could cause him to hesitate.
           That had to include his nerves. Now that they were finishing with dessert, the servers would be waiting for his speech before bringing out the cocktails and champagne. If he waited too much longer, Nesta would begin to wonder what the holdup was. Fuck his nerves. The last thing he was going to let keep him from marrying Nesta was himself.
           So Cassian stood, taking Nesta’s hand and standing her up. Her face brightened, and she gave him a look through her eyelashes. Then it turned to confusion as he started leading her out onto the balcony, in front of everyone.
           “Um, I was thinking we’d go inside,” she whispered to him, but he could hear the question in her playful tone. What the hell are you doing?
           What he came here to do.
“Everyone?” he said, just loud enough to beat the ambient noise of Vegas below them. They all turned to him from their scattered little tables, and he hoped Nesta wouldn’t read into the eagerness on their faces. Here it was: the main event.
           He didn’t let go of Nesta’s hand as he continued, “I want to thank you all so much for coming this weekend to celebrate the most incredible woman any of us have ever been blessed to have in their presence, soon to be the best attorney this nation has ever seen.”
           Everyone clapped as Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Cassian, stop.” But she was smiling.
           He didn’t stop, but instead continued, “It has been such an honor to get to be the one by her side through all she has accomplished these past few years. ‘Now Cassian,’ you might be thinking, ‘surely some of that can be attributed to her incredible fitness coach.’ And you would be right,” he said, and as everyone laughed good-naturedly, he heard Nesta mutter, “Nevermind I fucking hate you.” He wasn’t facing her, but he could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
           “But in all seriousness, Nesta is the most amazing woman I have ever met. If you all could see her behind the scenes, how hard she works, how much she cares about her family and her friends,” Cassian paused to take Nesta’s other hand, turning her to face him. There were a hundred specific little things he could list, but knowing how easily she was embarrassed, he would leave it at that until they were alone. “I think you’d be pretty in love with her too.”
           There were a couple of “aw”s from the crowd, and Cassian was pretty sure Lucien’s was genuine. Nesta was blushing, but Cassian was glad to see she was still smiling. “Cassian, how drunk are you?" she laughed.
           “Just enough to fight my nerves,” he replied honestly.
           Her smile froze, and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What are you nervous about?”
           He gave her a grin that he was sure looked nervous as hell. “Would you be mad if I told you I might have had an additional motive for planning this trip?”
           He watched as her face changed, putting the clues together just as Cassian sank down onto one knee. She pulled her hands out of his, putting them both over her mouth as Cassian fished the little box out of the inside of his jacket and popped it open. He looked up into her eyes, wide as saucers now, and said, “Nesta Archeron. You are the strongest, sexiest, most capable, most remarkable woman I have ever been fortunate enough to cross the path of. I love everything about you, and I love everything about us. Marry me, Ness. I think we both know this is forever—let’s make it official.”
           She made a slight keening sound. Her face had turned very red, and Cassian could see that she was trembling. But at his question she started nodding frantically, and she choked out a, “Yes. Yes, yes.”
           Their little audience erupted into cheers as Cassian slid the ring onto her finger and stood. Before he could even kiss her, she pulled herself against him with crushing force, burying her face in his shoulder. He could feel her shuddering as she pulled in big, heaving breaths. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Then, after a moment without her breaths settling, Cassian said, “Hey, are you okay?”
           “Yes,” Nesta said, pulling away just enough to talk. Her face was red and streaked with heavy tears. Her breaths were still labored, and Cassian suddenly realized she was genuinely hyperventilating. “Yes, I just, oh god, I can’t—” The words came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath, still crying. She buried herself back in his chest and he realized she was trying to hide her hysterics.
           “Okay, okay,” Cassian said quietly, hoping to calm her down before she made herself light headed and passed out. “Let’s step inside, okay? Are you okay to move?”
           She nodded, gasping. He gently put his hand on her waist and guided her past the tables. The rest of the party watched with concern, but he mouthed we’ll be right back as he led Nesta inside.
           The space inside was mostly just a hall to the balcony, so Cassian pulled Nesta aside to the little alcove by the bathrooms so they would be hidden from the big glass windows. As soon as they were out of sight he pulled her back close to him.
           “Just tell me this is happy crying,” he said.
           “It is,” Nesta said thickly with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
           “I’m sorry,” he said, slowly stroking his fingers down her back to calm her. “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have planned something private for you.”
           “No! It was perfect,” she said. “Everything was perfect. I—I didn’t know I’d react like this.” She was still sniffling. “I’ve never really imagined my own engagement. I—I never thought I’d love someone this much. That someone would love me this much.”
           “I love you that much and more,” Cassian said, meaning it with everything he had. “I would marry you tonight if you wanted. We’re in Vegas—pick any venue and we can make it official.”
           She laughed. Her throat still sounded thick but her breathing had returned to normal. “Oh no. We’re having the most grandiose wedding anyone has ever seen. If I’m getting married, everyone is going to know. And I want a ten thousand dollar dress.”
           “Deal,” Cassian said without hesitation. Nesta’s heels already brought her much closer to Cassian’s face than usual, but she still had to press herself up an extra inch on her toes to kiss him. Cassian leaned down obligingly, and now feeling the warmth of her body, the cold press of her ring against his jaw as she cupped his face, sent heat settling at the front of his pelvis.
           “Now what would you say if I told you to drop your panties,” he growled against her mouth.
           She smirked. “I’d say I would.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to whisper in his ear, “But I’d have to be wearing some.”
           Cassian groaned, sliding his hands up under the hem of her dress and indeed finding only bare skin. “Fuck, Ness.”
“I was hoping you’d get handsy and find out during dinner,” she said. “But you had other things on your mind, apparently.”
“From now on I promise to always put my hands up your skirt at dinner to check if you’re commando,” Cassian said.
“At every dinner,” Nesta said, kissing him again. “For the rest of our lives. That better be in your wedding vows.”
“For the rest of our lives,” he repeated.
“For the rest of our lives,” she echoed again. Then she kissed him again, passionately, slipping her tongue over his lips.
He pulled his hands out from her dress and opened the door to the bathroom beside them. “Get in,” he commanded, voice a tight snarl. Nesta took her time, sending him a sultry look through ruined makeup as she swayed her hips and made her way into the single-person room. Cassian followed, locking the door. She stayed with her back to him, watching in the mirror as he slid his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook on the door. She licked her bottom lip as he rolled his sleeves up just a little, to try and make sure he wouldn’t soil them. He met her eyes in the mirror, and he read her intention in the look on her face. She leaned forward and braced herself on the sink.
           “Alright then,” he chuckled, undoing his belt and unfastening his pants to slide them down just over his rapidly hardening cock. He shoved the hem of her dress up to expose her bare ass and said, “Better make sure you’ve got a good grip on that sink, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”
*~*~*
           Cassian made his way back out onto the balcony, put back together on the outside but with his head still swimming with the look on Nesta’s face in the mirror as she finished around him. Evidently someone had made the wise call to start cocktail hour without waiting for them, and the laughter he heard around him sounded a lot louder and messier than it had when he’d left. Gwyn and Emerie quickly departed for inside, makeup bags in hand, to help clean Nesta up for the rest of the night. Cassian was swarmed with congratulations, and he ordered a scotch on the rocks to keep him busy while he waited for his fiancée to reemerge.
           When Nesta reentered the party she was almost knocked to the ground by her sisters, and she begged them not to make her cry again. Rhys motioned to a server who brought out a bottle of champagne Rhysand had specially reserved for Nesta and Cassian (Cassian didn’t even want to know how much it cost), and Nesta popped the cork to raucous applause. Elain slapped them both with Just Engaged! sashes to wear for the rest of the night, and through it all, there was never a moment that Nesta and Cassian didn’t have some form of physical contact, be it holding hands or hips against each other or an arm around the shoulder. Cassian caught the way Nesta kept looking at her ring, tilting her hand to make it glitter in the lights. Then she would look at him, and she would smile, and as they headed out the Strip to celebrate, Cassian felt happier than he ever had in his entire life.
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Jaune Sempai AU) Weiss was a spoiled brat for a good while at the beginning, not entirely her fault but still. She got a good reality check about leadership from Port, does the same thing happen here? Or does Jaune give chip in his few cents about leadership to the new teams?
Weiss was slowly walking through the halls of Beacon, thinking about the talk she had with Professor Port just a few minutes ago. 'Savor what I have? Be the best person I can be? I'm sure I could be an even better person if I was the leader of this team... I'd learn so much more and I could help more by giving orders rather than following them! A Schnee leads, never follows! ...But...' Weiss slowly came to a stop in the middle of a hallway intersection. With it being so late, not many students were traversing the halls so she didn't need to worry about being in anyone's way. 'Was the Professor right...? About me getting everything handed to me up until now...?'
"Ah, Weiss right?" The heiress was jarred out of her pondering by a sudden voice from next to her. She turned her head to see the blond third-year she met on her first night at Beacon. Jaune Arc, was his name she believed, was standing there with a cart in front of him holding snacks, drinks, and a projector. "It's good to see you again."
Weiss stood up straight and turned to face him fully out of respect. "O-oh Jaune, it's good to see you as well."
Jaune leaned forward, and rested his forearms on the cart's handle. "I saw how you did great during initiation. It was quite impressive that the four of you were able to take out a Nevermore of that size."
Weiss felt some pride swell in her chest at the praise from such a well known upperclassman. "Well thank you, it was a rather... interesting experience teaming up like that."
"Well, you can't force teamwork. At least, not the kind the four of you showed. That stuff has to pretty much come naturally, and it did."
"Again, thank you." Weiss' eyes landed on the cart of food and drinks in front of him. "W-what might all that be for Jaune?"
"Oh this stuff? Some friends are celebrating the new semester starting today and they invited me, so I decided to grab some snacks for us all."
"Oh! Well that sounds... rather fun."
Her distracted tone wasn't lost on Jaune. The third year leaned in a bit more towards her over the cart, getting a good look at her. And her aura. "Hey... Are you doing okay? You seem a bit... down today."
Wiess was surprised by the question. "Oh! I-is it that apparent?"
"A bit." 'Well no not really. But having so many sisters and being able to see your aura dampen helps quite a lot.' "So what's up?"
Weiss wasn't sure she should complain anymore than she already had. She'd already been given a new perspective, and a small telling off, by Professor Port. Did she really want to try it again?
Well... another point a view couldn't hurt right? "Well it's just that... I was really expecting to be made team leader. Instead, Headmaster Ozpin appointed Ruby as our team's leader. A-and Professor Port already told me to let it go and just be the best huntress I can be instead, but I just don't think she's right for it!"
"And you think you'd be a better fit as the leader?"
Jaune's straight forward tone made Weiss already regret bringing it up. "W-well no... at least not anymore. Like Professor Port said, I should focus on what I have and can work with rather than what I don't." Weiss put her hands behind her and looked off to the side a bit.
"Well he is right. You weren't made team leader, not much you can do about it now. I think the Professor was right though, what you should focus on is accepting it and moving forward. Focus on improving yourself for now and working to improve your team as a member, not a leader. You and all of your teammates are on the same team. You all add to it. One person can't suddenly contribute more help or more valuable.... uuuhhh... help than the other members just because they were made the 'leader', ya know?
"Yes... I suppose that is true... But all my life I've been taught to take initiative. By my father and my sister. Neither of them were just followers, they paved their own ways."
"Your sister? You said your last name was Schnee right? Wouldn't that make your sister Winter Schnee? The Atlas Specialist?"
Weiss was caught off guard by that completely. She'd thought he'd ask about her father with her family name, not her sister. "Y-yes, she is. Do you know her?"
Jaune stood up from leaning over the cart, chuckling nervously a little bit. "Aaaaah well... I've met her in the past a few times, but I wouldn't say I really 'know' her. She's pretty strong though."
Weiss beamed happily at hearing him talk highly of her sister. "She certainly is~! I actually used to train with her occasionally and she even taught me some things she knew personally."
"Well then I'd better be careful if we were to fight haha." Jaune laughed lightly at how Weiss talked about her sister. He could almost feel Weiss's admiration for her rolling off in waves. "But you realize she needs to follow orders too right? She may be a specialist and have a high rank in the military, but she still needs to follow orders from people above her, like General Ironwood."
Weiss looked like she realized what Jaune was getting at. "I-I suppose you... aren't incorrect."
Jaune smiled and nodded a little at her understanding. "Everyone has orders and people to follow, even people with the title of 'leader'. And if not orders, then rules they need to follow. And if not rules, then some other duties or obligations. All you can really do is try and sort out which ones are the right ones for you to follow and be the best individual you can be." Jaune's warm smile dropped a bit before the next sentence. "Besides... I think you lucked out not being made the leader."
Weiss looked back over to him as she heard his voice at the last sentence lack the same tone he'd had the rest of their talk. "What do you mean by that?"
Jaune looked a bit surprised. He didn't mean to say that for her to hear. "O-oh nothing. I-it's just... I think being a leader isn't all it's cracked up to be. You have to take extra classes, work out whatever problems or kinks form in your team, be responsible for all your teammates and their actions, and honestly it won't matter a whole lot once you graduate Beacon unless you all decide to stick together and take jobs as a group. A lot more responsibility for not a lot of reward hahaha... ha ha." Jaune's awkward chuckle at the end didn't seem to ease Weiss's suspicion, so Jaune decided to finish up his point. "Just... don't think so hard on what leaders are shown or talked about as. Think about what they really are. There could still come a time where you'll need to take the lead on something. And... Ruby might appreciate your support and help."
Weiss looked really thoughtful about everything he said. Her eyes glanced down a bit in thought. "T-thank you Jaune... Both you and Port have given me quite a lot to think about..."
"Y-yeah sorry... that was a lot all at once..." Jaune rubbed the back of his head a little sheepishly. "But don't let it overwhelm you. It's your first day as a student. You have plenty of time to figure things out."
Weiss smiled softly. He was right... she'd been putting so much pressure on herself and being excellent 24/7, she forgot that she only just started. "Thank you, again. That has put my mind at ease a little."
"Glad to hear it! Now you might want to get moving. Curfew is in a little bit and trust me, you don't want Professor Goodwitch catching you out past it."
Weiss's eyes widened. She had totally forgotten how late it was! "Right! Sorry for taking up your time, but I must be going!" Weiss gave a swift nod and continued walking down the hallway she was heading towards a few minutes ago.
"No worries! I enjoyed our talk Weiss!" Jaune waved off after her until she was a good distance away, then continued on his own trip down the other one.
As the sound of the cart wheels rolling and occasionally squeaking became the only noise around him, Jaune started to let his mind drift and think about what he'd said to Weiss just a minute ago. 'Not all it's cracked up to be... yeah... what an understatement. You dodged a bullet Weiss... you just have no idea what. I hope the same bullet misses Ruby too...'
Jaune left those thoughts behind after that and just focused on making his way to Team CFVY's dorm room to meet up with everyone.
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permanentcrossfics · 3 years
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Blurred Lines: A Different Christmas // h.s.
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How do we write Christmas fics in a really weird year? I’m still not sure, but I tried to string together a bit of relief for the end of December. I’m shutting myself up now, even though there’s lots I want to say. This is for anyone who wants it, anyone who needs it, anyone who enjoys it (or hates it!) silently and vocally alike. My Christmas gift is the happy and unexpected bonus of anyone reading what I have so much selfish fun thinking of and spinning out. Happy and Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and a happy and merry end of December if you don’t and are just doing you! x
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It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree – something real in a year that had felt anything but – was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending?
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“You coming home with me this year?” 
Again. He asked the same question you’ve been dodging for weeks since plans had started to look uncertain again, not because he was pestering you, but because somehow, some way, you were both hoping for an answer with a loophole. 
“I can’t,” you said softly, regretfully, holding your phone close to your face with one arm as you curled up under the duvet of a bed in an apartment that had somehow become yours together instead of his alone throughout the course of a very new, very different, very unsettling year. “For a few reasons.” 
And he knew that. 
Harry’s deep breath crackled and he dragged his hand down his face, holding it there as he shook his head, the thought processes you’d learned to read so well hidden from view. 
You’d liked going home with him last year -- loved it, even. You’d hardly had time to look forward to a repeat when the world had flipped in the first quarter or sooner, and the sand had just kept slipping through the hourglass until all time for hope of a new and normal Christmas was gone and sucked away into the void of the year. 
So many plans. So many memories that lived only as memories of daydreams now. So much else, so much more important, devastating, and tragic you couldn’t even put it into words and, frankly, didn’t want to. Not now -- you spent too much time thinking about it to think about it now, too.
“Filming’s done soon,” he said from behind his hand. “I can book my flight to New York--”
“Harry--”
“And then go to Manchester after Christmas -- after the New Year, we always take a bit of a longer break. Mum won’t mind--”
“Your mother’s barely seen you since last Christmas,” you said. “Your sister, too, and there’s not enough time to--”
“Course there is!”
“Two weeks quarantine in each?” you asked. “That’s a month of staying put, let alone--”
A split second glance at his face was all you saw before the screen went black and you bit your tongue. He hadn’t hung up, because you’d heard the soft thud when his phone collided with his chest, and you could hear him breathing now, so you waited, suppressing your own urge to snap as he had his. Despite having spent the better part of the year together, it was frustrating to think about not being together for the season. All you wanted was him, though you knew better than to voice it out loud. He’d do it -- for you, he’d do it if you asked him to -- and you’d have to live with the guilt of taking him away from his family at the time of year where family should be together most, if it mattered to them. And you’d been weirdly lucky enough to have him most of the year between carefully navigated business trips. He was only one man with one body. It didn’t -- couldn’t -- matter that you wanted him, too. 
That you wanted to be with the man you loved. 
When he picked up the phone again, his face was drawn, tired, and not just from filming, you suspected. 
“Go home,” you urged, swallowing the break in your voice. “You miss home, and home misses you. I’ll have fun decorating and send you all the pictures you won’t be able to do anything about.” 
His throat bobbed hard, audibly, and his eyes looked dangerously shiny. 
“Next year I’ll go home with you,” you said, burrowing half your face into your pillow. “London and Holmes Chapel both.”
“Next year,” he said eventually, voice raspy. “We’ll have Christmas at home next year.” 
You nodded, forcing the lump rising up, up, and up back down. “You should go to sleep,” you said. “It’s late and you have to be up early.”
“Later for you,” he said and you sighed, noting the 3:08 timestamp at the top of your screen. 
“Let’s go,” you said. “Call me when you can.” 
“I will.” Sad, but resigned. You wanted to reach through the screen and touch the downturned corners of his mouth to push them back upright again. “Sleep well, and I love you.” 
Taking a deep breath, you murmured, “I love you, too,” before hanging up the call and the room descended into darkness and you into a fitful sleep. 
***
At first, you were determined to make the most of it. Your studio had always been small, cozy, and Christmasy to the best of your abilities, but his -- your -- apartment had so many more possibilities. Candles were the first to be set out, with strategic clusters of red, green, and gold-colored wax placed all about and nestled in fake holly wreaths. String lights that cast a pretty glow lined windows even in the bedroom for some last minute holiday cheer, and despite the urge to drive him up a wall, you did your best to only pick out other decorations that you’d both like and want to use in the future. Because as much as you might avoid talking about it in many certain terms the longer the relationship went on (it still felt so funny to think that a one night stand had turned into a relationship), there was a future. He was your future. It wasn’t your first Christmas together, but it might be your last one apart. 
It was the big Christmas tree you’d dragged back home by yourself on top of a rickety shopping cart all the way from a place on Second Avenue that had been your breaking point. Picking it had its own bittersweet undertones, but the smell of fresh pine tickling your nose even through a mask had kept you afloat as you struggled to get it off and onto curbs before traffic pancaked you in the middle of the road. It wasn’t until you were back inside, still wrapped in your coat and struggling to get it upright in the stand the correct way that you burst into a torrent of hot, selfish tears and bowed your head, kneeling next to the mass of needles and branches. 
He should be here! He should be helping you. He should’ve helped anchor lights in windows, he should’ve had an opinion on the scented candles, he should’ve made you go back for decorations you just weren’t sure of because you wanted them regardless of what he thought, and he should’ve helped pick, and carry, and set up the tree. The whole reason you’d gone out to get a fresh tree -- something real in a year that had felt anything but -- was to lift your spirits, but instead you were sobbing next to it and it all felt a little dramatically pointless. It was everything you’d avoided last year by flying off to England but that you couldn’t escape this time. What was the point? What was the point of pretending? 
Wiping your nose, you stood, eyes heavy, swollen, and itchy. With your coat gone, you heaved the tree up until it was sitting securely in its stand, needles scattered in its wake but branches full and outstretched, enveloping you in the warm smell of Christmas in a way the cedar- and balsam-scented candles couldn’t. Stepping back with your hands on your hips, you looked up at it, the swell of your anxiety simmering, thanks partly to your crying fit and partly to succeeding at the task. You’d decorate it bit by bit to draw the season out, and then on Christmas Eve, you’d call him and you’d both sit by your own trees and talk until it was Christmas Day for him. It was just for now -- this wasn’t the way of all ways for all time. 
Click.
You nearly passed out cold from the rush of fearful adrenaline shooting through you when the lock on the door clicked. In three seconds, you ran through whether or not you’d locked the door, determined that you had but then had forgotten, and figured out that somehow, someone had gotten in and they weren’t supposed to. You spun, frozen, brain zooming to determine if you dove behind a sofa or if you charged, but you didn’t get the chance before the door opened. 
A duffle bag, a foot, a body, in that order, and then a pair of wide, green eyes rimmed with circles just above a cloth mask.
“You do not get to be mad at me,” he said, voice muffled. He grunted and pushed the door open wider to bring in the rest of his luggage as you stood there, as equally speechless as you were breathless. “I tested before I came here,” he said, speaking with a loud if exhausted sort of authority, like he was trying to get the words out before you could protest. “But I’ll take the guest room, and I’ll get my own food, and we’ll keep out of each other’s space until the two weeks are up.” 
He brought his bags in the rest of the way, and it was only when he was halfway by you that he stopped in his tracks. “Y’haven’t moved,” he said, eyebrows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” 
Lightheaded, you nodded. 
“O… kay,” he said, stilted, still eyeing you. “M’just gonna go get settled and showered, then.” 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, the words finally forcing themselves from you. 
“S’Christmas.”
“You’re supposed to--”
“Mum knows,” he interrupted. “M’taking Christmas here this year. Gem’ll have Christmas with her and I’ll go along after. She’s excited about having two. ‘Scuse me….” 
Nodding, you waved him away to hurry, shoo, because you could feel the emotions rising in you again and your confusion wasn’t enough to quell them. Fifteen minutes ago, you’d been kneeling on the floor with aching knees, crying, and now here he was. 
You’d wrestle with the confliction of doing what was right and doing what you wanted… later. Later, when you could wrap your head around it and the choice he’d made. 
Two weeks. That would put you just on Christmas Day, basically. Just two weeks.
***
Dodging him around the apartment was a lot more difficult than you would’ve guessed for how big it was. More than once you nearly slammed into him in the kitchen, and someone was always in the favored bathroom. For his part, he’d taken to wearing a mask when he roamed, and even though you told him he didn’t have to do that, all he did was hum behind it. You got it -- the positive result from the crewperson on set had spooked everyone, and he was being safe. You both were being safe, but for as mindful as you’d been throughout, all you wanted to do was hold him, hug him, kiss him. Video calls were ridiculous when you were in the same house and you could hear his laugh through the walls. But you got it, and if you kicked too much he’d book a hotel to quarantine away from you, so you’d rather have him here, as selfish and risky as it was. 
It was three days into your little bubble that he finally dared to get within arm’s reach of you. You were mulling over where to put the chimney sweep ornament when he shuffled over to the foot of the ladder you were leaning on, and you raised an eyebrow, arm outstretched.
“Can I help you?” you asked.
He shook his head, the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. “Just watching,” he said from behind his mask. 
“You’re standing a little close, aren’t you?” you teased. Jokes were all you had -- all anyone had this year, if they were lucky. 
Immediately, he scowled -- how funny you could tell what his face looked like so clearly even with the cloth stretched firmly across it -- and you giggled. “Watch what you’re doing,” he said, taking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab the ladder legs, and with his support, you held on tightly and leaned over to place it on the prime branch. 
“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to pass me that box?” 
He did so and you murmured your thanks, resting it on the top step as you pulled ornaments out to hang them. 
“Not there,” he said before you could drop a hook over a branch with a snowflake. “Give it… thank you.” He took it carefully from you and placed it on a different one closer to him, lower than where you were placing it but slightly higher than you could reach without a ladder. 
“Thank you.” 
Together, slowly, ornaments were hooked and rehooked (and rehooked yet again when one of you noticed the other had moved them from a spot you each thought was perfect) until the tree was trimmed, each branch heavily laden, bearing the weight of ornaments and of providing joy after the year behind. 
“How’d you get this home?” he asked, looking up at it with you once you were off the ladder. 
“Carefully,” you said dryly. “Oh! The top.” You turned, but he cut across your path.
“I’ve got it,” he said, grabbing the box from the precarious stack next to the coffee table. 
“I want to,” you whined and he snorted.
“You’ve done the whole bloody thing,” he said without venom. “Let me do just the one.” With it in hand, he climbed the ladder as you held it steady, and he set it on the topmost branch, prodding it until it was tall and straight up, all five points outstretched and shining. 
“That’s perfect,” you said under your breath, resting your head on his leg, and he patted the top of your head gently. You stayed like that for a minute, two, three, and more, with your arm curling around his calf, embracing as much physical contact as he’d allowed since he came home. “How many more days?”
“Eleven.” He sounded thoughtful, resentful, and exhausted all in one go. You squeezed his leg and kissed his knee through his joggers. 
“Then it’s Christmas,” you said.
He exhaled slowly, still patting your head. “Christmas morning.” 
***
Eleven. Whole. Days. 
Eleven days of more of the same. He’d eased up, thankfully, and dared to venture a little closer with a mask on, because, as you’d reminded him, he had tested negative. You sat on opposite ends of the couch, enjoying the Christmas tree and decorations together, laughing, talking, planning, and exchanging stories about everything that had happened while you were apart. His, of course, were wildly more interesting, but he somehow managed to hang onto every word of even your most droll and mundane ones, and always with the right questions and supportive murmurs of agreement as necessary. 
Eleven days of saying goodnight and crawling into a bed that was too big for one when two was next door. 
Eleven days of not being able to share meals properly or touch each other -- sex aside -- and eleven days of Hell.
“It’s your fault,” you said one night from your end of the couch, scowling with your arms crossed. The tree twinkled happily despite your sour mood, and music that was too merry and bright played from the television. 
“Me?” he asked indignantly. 
“Yes! You had to do that stupid film.” 
“It’s not stupid.”
“You’re wearing a mask in our home,” you said, burrowing into the cushions. “If I want to call it stupid, I will.” 
He groaned, dropping his head forward. “Baby….”
You grunted. 
“It’s only a couple more days. A couple more days, and then it’s Christmas. Think of it like a present you’re waiting for.”
Despite yourself, you snorted. 
“I’m all you want for Christmas, aren’t--?”
“Shut up,” you said, kicking his thigh with your extended leg. He snickered, eyes crinkled and full of light all their own. 
“Couple more days,” he said, patting your ankle. “Couple more days, and then you won’t even be able to get rid of me. We’ll be in bed all weekend.”
“I’m not calling your mother from bed.”
He waggled his brows with some exaggeration and you rolled your eyes. 
That had been around day five, maybe six. Suffice it to say, by Christmas Eve, you were done. 
“It’s one day!” you said over breakfast in the kitchen. “One day, Harry!” 
“We made it this long,” he said, pouring hot coffee into a mug that had his face printed onto the head of dancing elf -- a gift from his mother shipped along with a matching one for you that she insisted you both open ahead of time to enjoy for as long as possible. “We can make it a couple more hours.”
“If I stripped naked, what would you do? Stand there and watch me?” 
He froze and looked at you over his mask, the heated warning pinning you in place. Huffing, you pushed the stool away from the counter and hopped off it.
“Where are you--?”
“Out,” you said. “I’m going to get--” You floundered. “Coffee.” 
A beat passed and his eyes dropped to the mug in his hand.
“We literally have--”
“I’m going out!” you said, wrapping your neck and half your face up in a scarf to keep warm. You were going out, because you were mad, and the tantrum was burgeoning. That poor man had seen more unreasonable tantrums from you this year than he had in the entire two and a half you’d reciprocally acknowledged each other’s presence, and you hated it. But he’d hate it, too, if you’d gone on a trip for work and come back and things were off.
Could be worse, you reminded yourself. It could be so very, very much worse.
“I love you,” you said, calmly, firmly. “I’ll be back. I’m only going around the block. Take that--” You waved at his mask, “--off. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way in..” 
When you returned, he was in the guest room, but a fresh cup of coffee in your own dancing elf mug rested on a mug warming plate. The last of your frustrations that hadn’t melted with the walk deflated and you picked it up, enjoying the aroma before taking a deep sip. 
He always made it better. And the coffee was nice, too. 
His mother called in the afternoon and you hardly noticed he was at your side until the phone was in front of your face and you gave a startled hello. 
“Has he been wearing that the whole time he’s been home with you?” she asked, her gleaming eyes and wide, genuine smile matching her son’s own warmth. 
Home. With you. 
“He has,” you said. 
“S’posed to be proud of me,” Harry said and Anne laughed.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re still calling tomorrow?” she asked you. 
“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll be here.”
“Next year will be different, won’t it?” she all but clucked. “Did you like your mugs? I got one for me, Gemma, and Michal, too.” 
“Used them just this morning,” he said, squeezing your hip and wandering away. “Won’t be posting them anywhere for people to see, though….” 
Eventually -- finally -- the day drew to a close, and you crawled into bed with the knowledge that it was just one more night. One more night, and then in the morning you could say hello like you wanted to. One more night and you wouldn’t want to bite his head off. One more night and you wouldn’t feel so mental, as he would put it. 
And yet, lying there, the minutes dragged. Ten? No, just one. Fifteen? Five. 
It felt like Christmas, though. As much as this was pure torture, this was what Christmas was supposed to feel like -- like it used to feel when you were a kid and you’d wait for weeks tingling anticipation, counting down, hoping that you’d find what you wanted under the tree, bursting with more energy than any amount of sugar could give you. Except instead of presents, or money, or sweets, you were waiting for the man who’d been under your nose for two weeks by this point. You got to kiss your boyfriend tomorrow. You got to see your boyfriend, hold your boyfriend, and celebrate Christmas with your boyfriend. 
Twenty minutes? Two. 
12:02.
Two minutes after midnight.
Christmas.
Fourteen days. 
Oh!
You sprang from the bed before you could think about the matter and darted to the door over the cold wooden floor, but when you rounded the corner in the hallway, out of nowhere, something all but slammed into you. Sucking in a sharp breath with a screwed up face, you squeaked when you collided with a very warm, very sturdy frame. Belatedly, two arms shot out to grab you by yours to steady you. “Oh my God, I--”
Hair, forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth, too. No mask. 
“Are you o--?”
He didn’t get to finish his question. You clapped your hands over his cheeks and kissed him soundly before he could kiss you first. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d laugh -- you both would -- but rather than that, he locked both his arms around you tightly and spun you, teetering precariously with you in tow until you got to the guest bed. Tackle was an apt word for how he delivered you to it, but you were the farthest thing from upset at finally having not even an inch of space between you. The bed smelled like him and it was warm, he was warm, and you were kissing again, and again, and again, cold noses smushing together as you found new angles. 
“Christmas,” he mumbled between them.
“Mmhm,” you returned against his mouth, legs interlocking with his. “I missed you,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too.” 
Shivering, you both pulled the duvet up over your shoulders, and you curled up against him. Cologne, skin, and laundry detergent, with a bit of his minty toothpaste. There was no scented candle for that. You pressed your fingers against his chest and scratched lightly through the smattering of hair there. “We could go to our bed,” you reminded him, but he shook his head.
“Y’here now,” he rasped, leaning in to press his lips comfortably to your hairline, one arm draped over your back. “Let’s stay here tonight and we can change things later.” 
“Were you coming to get me?” you asked, voice shaking as the last of the shivers left your bones. 
“Yeah,” he admitted. You laughed, teeth chattering, and he pulled you closer. “Don’t laugh!” he said, rubbing your back and warming you. “S’been two weeks for me, hasn’t it?”
“For you!”
“You try bein’ home with you for that long,” he mumbled. 
Shaking again, but less than before, you kissed the underside of his chin. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.” 
***
When you woke up, his back was to you, and his one shoulder was rising and falling with the rhythm of his sputtery, wheezy snores. You smiled, closing your eyes, and snuggled into the pillow. Better -- much better. You dozed on for an unknown amount of time, and you were walking the line between sleep and consciousness when featherlight kisses across your brow startled you and you jerked awake.
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, only sounding slightly truthful. You made a noise and stretched, shaking from head to toe before curling up into a tight little ball next to him and opening your eyes fully. His own were puffy with sleep, but he grinned radiantly as if he’d been awake for a while.
“What?” you asked in a croak.
“Nothing,” he said. “Mum’s gonna call soon.”
Groaning, you halfheartedly turned your head to look over your shoulder. “What time is it?” you asked, straining to see the window and get a gauge. 
“S’ten,” he said. “So about three for them. Sure you don’t want to call from bed?” 
You glowered at him and his lip twitched. “I’ll put the coffee on.” 
When you finally managed to leave the warm nest of the bed, the living room had been transformed. The tree was on, twinkling under the streams of light pouring in through the windows, and he’d lit the fireplace, too, flames licking up and up behind the glass. Soft, melodic Christmas music floated from the far corners of the room, and the smell of coffee tickled your nose. 
“So,” he said from his spot at the island as he unwrapped cheeses and opened jars of olives, and jams, and honeys, and other goodies. “What time do we pop the bubbly?” 
Laughing softly, you shuffled over. “It’s ten.”
“Little after ten now,” he said, lips pressed tightly together and arms flexed until the lid popped. “And somewhere in the world it’s five o’clock.” 
You pulled a grape off the bunch lying on the counter and popped it into your mouth, chewing not so delicately but enjoying the sweet burst of freshness. You’d no sooner swallowed than his phone started buzzing and you grabbed it, sliding your finger to answer the call from the incoming Mum and pointing it at him.
“Happy Christmas, honey.” Anne’s voice was warm even through the phone, and Harry’s head whipped up.
“Wh-- Happy Christmas-- didn’t know you were-- ‘scuse the mess,” he said as you giggled behind the phone. 
“Having a good morning so far?” 
“Goin’ ok, yeah,” he said. “Just getting started, heating up the coffee.”
“Where’s your better half gotten off to?” 
Trying not to melt, you waved your hand in front of the camera. 
“Hello, love,” she said. “Happy Christmas.” 
“Happy Christmas, Anne.”
“Are we going to get to see you today?”
“Fair’s fair,” Harry chimed in. “Turn that thing around, why don’t you?” 
Rolling your eyes, you flipped the phone and waved, sliding around the counter to stand next to him. 
“That’s better,” Anne said with a firm nod. She had a red top on with a festive, sparkly necklace, and looked a good deal more put together than either one of you.
“Where’s Gem?” Harry asked, taking the phone from you so you could unbox the crackers. 
“Upstairs napping off the morning,” she said. “She’ll want to call again later.” 
And that was how the morning went, with each of you passing his mother back and forth while you carried plates and trays full of snacks to the coffee table and couch in front of the tree to nibble while tearing into gifts on camera, including a box full of chocolates for you, Branston pickle for him, and Christmas crackers for both of you to have, “A little bit of home this year.”
“Thank you,” you said, clutching your sweets close. “And thank you for--” Unbidden, you choked up, and Harry glanced at you sharply, his inquisition vanishing with his understanding. For sharing him -- allowing you to steal him away during the holidays in a year where everyone needed family, either by blood or choice. He squeezed your shoulders and his mother, as adept as he was at redirecting a conversation, piped up. 
“Promise you’ll come see us again next year,” Anne said. “It’s been too long.”
“It has been,” you agreed, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 
“Maybe sooner.” Harry looked down at you. “If things ease up?” 
You nodded. “Summer in London,” you mused. “That would be nice.”
“And then a bit of time back home. We could go before things pick up in August.”
Summer in London. A beacon of hope you couldn’t erect just yet, but a beacon nevertheless. A bit of time with him before he, hopefully, went back to work and you got to revisit adjusted and postponed plans. 
The rest of your Christmas Day was quiet -- different from the year before when you’d been overwhelmed with names, faces, screeches of Uncle Harry, and not being sure how to break your way in. You kept trays of cheese, crackers, and other snacks within an arm’s reach, and by the early afternoon both of you had a comfortably steady buzz from the bubbly he was good at topping off both your glasses with -- never sloppily drunk, but enough to be warm in your fingers and toes and to seek out cuddles from him under the blanket you were snuggled in on the sofa with paper crowns on both your heads. 
“Can I tell you something?” you asked, ribs crunched from how far you’d slid down on the sofa to nestle into his side, all but eye-level with his chest. “And have it not be as awful as it sounds?” 
You felt his laugh before you heard it. “Sure,” he drawled. “What is it?” 
Squeezing his wrist, you turned your mouth into his forearm, eyes on the television as a snowman leapt and bounded over a wide, snowy plain before jumping into the air. “I like this Christmas,” you admitted into his skin. 
Harry snorted. “S’not awful, s’the point -- Christmas is supposed to be likeable.”  
“You know what I mean,” you said, sighing. “I know it’s just us and there’s no family or anyone around, but… I dunno… it’s not all bad, is it?” 
“Like having me to yourself?” 
You groaned and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Shut up,” you mumbled. 
He kissed the top of your head, crown crunching under it, and you grunted. “S’not so bad,” he said into your hair. “Like having you all to myself, too, y’know.” 
“You’re just saying that because you have to because you’re stuck with me,” you said and he laughed with another smacking kiss. 
“Not stuck with me yet,” he crooned. “Can leave any time you want.” 
“Maybe I will….”
“Oi!”
Giggling, you untangled yourself from him and squirmed out from underneath the blanket. “More bubbly?” 
***
Boxing Day was a Christmas redux, with more cheese, sparkling wine, music, and calls with family and friends. Long distance versions of old favorite games were adapted and adopted, and you snickered quietly from the corner of the couch, staying out of his way when he shouted about how he had hit the button, it was his trackpad that hadn’t worked. 
The late afternoon and on, though, was yours together and alone with the time difference breaking up the party earlier than it normally would be. The bittersweet cloud vanished, though, when you at some point you separated even further into your own activities -- him with his stack of new books and you with a film you played quietly on your laptop. Able to be near each other without having to be wrapped up and begging with your bodies for sorely missed attention, it finally, really, felt like home again. 
“It’s so pretty out,” you murmured, nose pressed to the windowpane to see as much of the light-lined streets as you could. It got dark earlier and earlier these days, and yet later than it had even a few days ago. “I love Christmas in New York. I wish--” You caught yourself ahead of finishing the sentence, thinking better. 
You wished it was a normal year -- for many reasons -- so you two could go out and see the city. So you could show him your favorite places, so you could make memories together like you had with him last year. It wasn’t anything life altering or new, but it was different when you were with someone you loved. You wanted him to know you -- all of you, even the unknowable parts. 
“Y’know,” he said next to your ear, hand on the back of your neck as he slunk up behind you, “it’s getting pretty late.”
You turned your head slightly, looking at him in the reflection of the glass. “Do you want to go to bed?” 
Too early for sleep. Was he asking for sex? 
Harry hummed and shook his head. “How ‘bout you get your coat on?” he murmured. “Let’s have that Boxing Day walk we didn’t get last year.”
“Now?”
“When else?” he said. “Haven’t been out yet, and it’s late. Streets’ll be empty. We can go wherever, do whatever, see whatever.” 
“You’re serious?” 
Nodding, he pulled you by the arm and you stumbled with him, still processing it even as you pulled beanies on with masks and (winter) gloves.
“Where are we going?” you asked.
He shrugged, calling the elevator. “Dunno,” he said. “Figured you’d lead the way. Show me your favorite bits. Seem t’remember summat about Bryant Park last year.” 
There were sobering realities at the street level, too. Gates were down on storefronts that hadn’t been pulled up since March, awnings above them tattered from months of neglect and ‘For Rent’ signs flapping against them in the wind. The usual post-holiday influx of tourists was thinned, with hardly a white sneaker in sight, and everything was just a little quieter than it should be and would be in a usual year.
But there were lights. Broadway’s may have dimmed for the time being, but endless, endless displays of lights, brighter without the ambient light pouring from storefronts diminishing their power, offered beacons of hope -- literal lighthouses in a storm of a year -- and led you uptown like a trail of breadcrumbs. 
You pulled him this way and that way, weaving through side streets to look at any display that looked bright enough from a distance, fingers locked tightly with his in a way they never were outside of the house. As bittersweet as it was no one was out, it afforded you a level of privacy you never had, anywhere. Not even Holmes Chapel. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d ever held his hand for this long at one time, if you were honest, and while you didn’t need it, you enjoyed the option. 
In between zigs and zags, he mumbled stories to you about this time, and another time, and a time after that, pointing at buildings, venues, restaurants, and hotels, and you listened half in awe and half in earnest. It was a whole other life he’d lived without you before, and you’d only been aware of the surface of it. Nobody knew what he was telling you except the people he’d lived it with, and you didn’t think you’d ever get over or be able to thank him for trusting you to be someone he chose to share it with. 
“I love Sixth,” you said, sighing as you walked past giant red Christmas ornaments three times the size of you both, the reflection of the string lights wrapped around tree branches bouncing off their shiny surfaces. Radio City’s electric red script beamed at you both from a distance, and traffic lights winked and waved in the wind up and down the avenue. “They do a lot with it.” 
“It’s pretty,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Tree’s this way, isn’t it?” he asked. 
You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah,” you said. 
He jerked his head and you blinked. 
“You want to?” you asked. 
“Just a bit,” he said. “Let’s go.” 
“There’s people!” you warned him, because even from here you could see the trickle of people with the same thought. “And I saw online they have a schedule--”
“We don’t have to get close,” he said, pulling you firmly. “S’big enough we don’t need to, just wanna take a peek.” 
He was so certain, but you were less so, because all you needed was someone to see him to break the serene bubble you’d blown around yourselves. Despite that, you shuffled with him until the tree was visible, a bright, glowing ball of multi-colored lights stretching towards the sky. “Wow,” you whispered under your breath. 
“S’nice,” he said and you nodded your agreement. It was nice -- despite the sad press it had gotten, the tree had turned out very nice at the end of it all, tall and impossibly beating all odds. What a metaphor for the year.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, squeezing him around the middle. 
“Come here,” Harry said next to your ear.
“Hmm?” Reluctantly tearing your eyes from the tree, you gasped when he pulled your mask down first and then his own in two swift tugs, revealing a cheeky grin with a face cradled by the fabric. “What are you doing?” you asked, eyes darting around. 
“Getting a kiss by the tree with my girlfriend,” he said. “Now, come here,” he repeated. This time, you obliged and allowed him to steal one, two, three kisses, each one of them smashed against your lips with a palpable sort of eagerness that made you think he would drink you if he could. This felt… normal. Normal, safe, and free. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like that. 
When you broke and burrowed against his neck, he covered the back of your head and wrapped his other arm around your back, cocooning you in the shell of the most protective embrace he could give. Just a man -- any man, a regular man -- holding the person he loved, and, after his decision to stay with you through Christmas and New Years, he arguably loved you most. 
Through the thick knit of your beanie, you felt him kissing your head, and you nuzzled into his scarf. “Thank you,” you said, face safely out of sight. “For coming here.” 
“Not mad a’me for it?” he mumbled and you shook your head. “‘Kay, good.” 
Shivering, you huddled closer and he tightened his arms, shielding you from the brisk wind. 
“People will see,” you said, but despite that you held him closer. 
“Who cares?”
He did, despite his quiet rasp. He did, and you knew why he did, but right then, you could pretend that it didn’t matter at all. 
***
It was simultaneously the longest and shortest week of your life. 
The longest, because time didn’t exist, much like it hadn’t for most of the year. Days, afternoons, evenings, and nights blended together, blurred by a happy holiday haze onset by too much of everything good -- sleep, sustenance, and spirits. The weird, if nice, part of all the extra time was having the chance to do things you’d enjoyed over the course of the year all over again. Nine times out of ten, when the two of you were together, it was rushed even on the long layovers. You’d watch one series or a film the whole way through, and next time you’d have to be on to the next one you’d agreed to hold off on until the other was there, but after having spent most of the year under the same roof, the typical race to the next one was paused. Instead, you settled in for old Christmas films and other ones you hadn’t seen since you first started properly dating, lending a timeless sort of quality to the week. 
The shortest, because he’d only just gotten there. How had it been three weeks since he’d walked in the front door with a mask on and a warning? Three weeks, two of them masked, and now it was over and done. The whole year was over and done, with 2020 coming to a slow close after feeling simultaneously like it never would and like it was moving much, much too fast. Who would’ve known this would be how it would turn out after kicking it off in the back of his car with a paper plate full of snacks and the countdown on his phone? You’d made it through another year, together. 
“Do you know what I just realized?” you asked as you unpacked the bag from El Diablito at the kitchen counter. In the background, the low hum of commentators on the TV remarking about how different this year was provided a steady buzz amidst familiar scenery of lights in different cities. Berlin had gone first, then London, and now, gradually, the new year on the east coast was gliding ever closer. 
“What?” he asked over the noise of him unfurling the bag of tortilla chips. 
“This was our first year together,” you said. “Full--” you drew an arc through the air-- “year, I mean. Saying it and all that.” 
He didn’t say anything, but when you looked at him the corner of his mouth was lifted up slightly. “S’pose it is, yeah. Feels like longer.” He fished a chip out with his index and middle fingers before crunching into it noisily. 
“Almost three years of everything else,” you murmured, unwrapping a taco to inspect it. “This one’s yours.” 
“‘Everything else’?” he teased, snickering when you slid the taco across the counter to him. “Watch it, it’ll fall apart….” 
“Shut up and eat,” you said and he barked a laugh, grin permanent and eyes sparkling as he unwrapped it to peek.
“In a minute,” he said, setting down his food, satisfied it looked right. “Come here,” he said.
“Why?” you asked, smiling slightly though you eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
He motioned with his hand. “C’mere a minute,” he repeated, voice light but eyes tight, and he swallowed hard. A cold wave washed down you from head to toe. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous, but the nerves themselves spiked your anxiety and made your scalp prickly and your palms sweaty, and they got worse when he grabbed one of your hands -- your left hand -- to hold between his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about summat.” 
Oh, God. 
“Harry,” you said, but he shook his head.
“Lemme do this.” 
Five seconds. Five seconds was all it took to imagine the words coming out of his mouth, quietly, with soft, trusting eyes waiting patiently, hopefully for an answer. Five seconds was all it took for you to imagine mucking it all up with a twisted tongue, not because you weren’t sure what to say, but how to say it. No, no, no -- you didn’t want to hurt him, not even temporarily, not even by accident. 
Clearing his throat, he squeezed your hand. “I dunno how to do this,” he said, and for the first time ever, you were pretty sure he laughed without his eyes. You made a noise in your throat and curled your fingertips into his palm. “I love you,” he continued, Adam’s apple bobbing, lips trying and failing to form a smile. He was terrified, but determined, and you held his hand tighter while pressing your opposite one into his cheek.
I love you, too. You couldn’t say it, but you felt them swelling in your chest, growing your heart not two, not even three, but six times over. 
He opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “M’going to spend the rest of my life with you,” with a thoughtful quality in his rasp. “I think, if-- if that’s somethin’ you….”
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t, you were trying, but it was like sucking in helium. 
“So, m’kind of wondering if--”
“Harry--”
“I’m not,” he shook his head. “I’m not asking you anything right now, because we’re not ready.” He rubbed the back of your hand assuringly. “We’re not ready, you have… and I’m….” He exhaled sharply, dropping his head, and your hand moved from his cheek to his hair and you rubbed the back of his neck. “I just want to know,” he said, breathing heavily, with his voice muffled into his chest, talking very fast, barreling through and tripping over words, “if I’m totally off base here. Cause m’not gonna now when there’s so much shit happening, but like… I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth when-- if I do, so if I could just get an idea of what you think, because we had a talk once but now every time you cut me off at the knees and--”
He sputtered, stopping short, and you pressed your face into his short hair. 
“I want it,” you said, sounding braver than you felt admitting wants out loud. “I do. I will.” 
His shoulders fell with his slow, deep breaths, and you rubbed your fingertips into his scalp gently.
“I will,” you say. “Promise,” you added, voice cracking. “You’re not off base.”
Neither of you said anything for a while. You couldn’t -- you quite literally, physically couldn’t -- and he was gulping for air as quietly as he could. 
“Okay,” he said into his chest finally, sounding inexplicably embarrassed. “S’good to know.”
Silly, silly man. Did he really think… did he doubt…? “I love you,” you murmured. 
“I know,” he said. “I know y’do.”
“No, you don’t.” You kissed his head. “I love you, I-- you’ll never know.” 
Harry took a deep breath before straightening up, head high and curls falling over his forehead above the weariest, most agonized eyes you’d ever seen. His cheeks were bright red, and he might as well have just run a marathon for how spent and miserable he looked. 
“I promise,” you repeated. “I promise, honey.”
He nodded slightly, mouth still set in a thin, grim line, and, instinctively, you stepped in to kiss him, because no. No, that wouldn’t do. Stiff and unmoving at first under your lips, gradually he warmed and softened, releasing your hand to grab your hips and you moaned softly, hands running across his shoulders over his hoodie. You promised -- when it was right, when you both could, if he asked and it was what you both wanted? There was only one answer you’d ever give. 
The stool scraped against the floor when he stood, but he never broke the kiss, and you squeaked when you stumbled back against the counter. You opened your mouth wider when he coaxed you to, dizzy behind your closed eyes, and you let your hands wander freely, pulling him into you as the intensity behind the kiss escalated from comfort to need.
Two weeks. Two weeks -- three -- of pent up energy. Of hardly being able to touch each other, of being close but not close enough. 
“Come here,” he demanded in a mumble, the firm hold he had on your jaw to hold you in place as he kissed you the way he wanted leaving you breathless. Rarely did he ever do that; usually, he guided you into what you both wanted to build it until the bubble of tension popped. There was something thrilling about being told though -- something that reminded you of when you were new, three months instead of almost three years in. Something that was like when time was limited and you had to be efficient to learn each other and what would feel good and do good for the other and yourselves, and telling was sometimes all you had. 
Harry broke away with a wounded little noise and you blinked, dazed. “M’just….” He grabbed two tacos with one hand and threw them back into the paper bag. “M’moving these.” Tacos, nachos, and burritos all went back in, topped off with the chips, and he shoved them aside with some impatience. You laughed breathily and lifted yourself up onto the counter with his help, but it faded when he stepped between your legs and cupped your cheek and jaw and you caught a glimpse of the blown pupils and flushed cheeks that gave him a wild, primal look before your own eyes shut. 
Each and every tender sponging of his lips across your jaw and down your neck made you ache, and it was all you could do to stay upright and not collapse back, limp from how weak you were. His needy, mesmerized groans made your belly tighten, and when he tugged the hem of your shirt you nodded. 
Shirt, sweatshirt, bra, and undershirt were the first to go, and the straps had no sooner fallen down your shoulders than you let out a wordless, guttural shout from deep in your chest when Harry latched on and sucked your nipple with greedy enthusiasm, moving with you when you squirmed, his stubble scraping the soft skin of your breast. 
“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes watering and elbow nearly buckling underneath you in your effort to hold yourself up. “Yes, please,” you said when he pulled the strings on your sweats. 
“That’s my girl,” he said, releasing with a pop and latching on again. “That’s my girl… gonna make it better for you.” He stood tall again when he pulled by the waistline, and you wriggled until they were at your knees and you could kick them off the rest of the way with your underwear as he dropped his own to his ankles. 
With nothing left between you, you shivered, shrinking into him when he stepped closer and drew his hands around your body in a circuit. Legs first, stomach, back, breasts, shoulders, arms, and repeat, each squeeze and dig of his hands and fingers just a little restrained and not as zealous as his groans and heavy breathing made him out to be -- like he was trying to be good, or patient, or….
“It’s ok,” you murmured between kisses. “You don’t have to wait.” They’d done the waiting -- more than enough of it. You just wanted him now.
“Sure?” Harry rasped and you nodded, eyes rolling up when he slipped his fingers between you both and they slipped up and down your folds. “Sure,” he confirmed under his breath. “Open a little more for me, love-- there we are, thank you.” 
You folded your arms around his neck and over his back and locked your ankles loosely just under his ass, heart racing in your chest. 
“Breathe in--” Harry murmured and you squeezed your eyes shut when he fit his head against your entrance. It slid and you laughed, kissing his jaw when he kissed your brow through his grin. “Deep breath for me.” 
Every time. He did that almost every time with you, first asking for a deep breath and then, invariably, pulling a long exhale from you when he thrust into your warm, wet cunt. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered in awe, holding still. You could feel the tremors pulling each fiber in his muscles, and when he throbbed inside you, you bit your lip. “Holy shit, you’ve got me good,” he groaned. 
You laughed once. “Yeah.” Yeah, something like that. Wincing, you rolled your hips forward and gasped softly from the stretch before tightening your arms and pressing your face against his hot skin. You nuzzled in between your own slow, lingering kisses, taking deep, grounding breaths. He was soft, and smooth, but firm, and hard, and he smelled amazing. Clean -- all soap and cologne with some detergent that smelled even more from the warmth of his skin. 
“Oh, God,” you whispered. “Oh, God, I--” You sucked in a harsh breath, abdomen tightening as you pulsed around him, feeling wetter, and you moved your face higher, nose pressed into the base of his sheared hair as you moaned quietly. “Oh my God, I love you.” Pitchy, bordering on hysteria, but you’d be hard pressed to remember a time you felt it as much as you meant it like you did right then. “I love you, I love-- I-- you feel--” Good. Better than good. No one had ever fit like he had -- too much, but just enough, physically, mentally, emotionally. 
“I love….” Harry gulped. “Shit, ok, m’gonna….” He made to pull his shoulders back, but you shook your head. 
“No, no, stay,” you begged, wrapping your arms and legs tighter. “Stay, please,” you murmured. 
“I can’t-- ok,” he panted. “Lemme….” He gripped your ass and pulled you closer and your back arched as you opened your thighs just a little more. “There we go,” he grunted, hips snapping forward as he finally moved. “That’s… fuck, that’s better now.” 
You could hear the effort you could feel between your legs -- each sharp pull of breath between his teeth, each muted grunt between his driving thrusts, and the pants he let out when he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. “M’ok,” he said every time between labored gulps for air. “M’good, I just need to--” and he grit his teeth before he began again, and again, you gasped and whimpered, shrinking closer to him. 
You didn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, now or ever. You didn’t want to be this close to anyone else again ever. This was never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to meet you, know you, fall in love with you, nor you with him, but now he had, and you were, and you couldn’t imagine it any other way. You couldn’t imagine a world in which he didn’t come home to you, for you, and where you weren’t there. Not waiting -- never waiting on a man, any man, but ready for him when he returned and ready to move forward together. 
He was yours. He was yours, and you were his, and the mere thought pulled something behind your belly button, making you groan.
“What?” he asked, kissing the side of your head. “What, darling, what?”
“I’m gonna cum,” you whispered and then whimpered, tightening your hold around his neck and in his hair. “Harry--” you choked, shuddering with your deep breaths.
“I know.” He grunted, thrusting with slightly more power. “Fuck! Tight little--”
“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Don’t stop, I’m close, I’m so-- I just need--” Faster and faster you rolled your hips against his, crying out against him when he wedged his thumb between you both to catch your clit, a stream of mumbled, “I’m gonna cum, you’re making me cum,” confessions hidden in his neck. Deep breaths. Long, slow, and deep, with your toes curling behind him until you were barely breathing in your efforts to concentrate, because you were right there. And then, you did cum, hard, convulsing and sucking in harshly as you trembled your way through whimpers of his name, immediately and thoroughly exhausted. 
Both his arms locked around you, then, all but crushing you to his torso in his efforts to hold you up, and he thrust hard, fast, deep, getting the right rhythm and stroke he needed. Barely able to keep your eyes open, your mouth moved soundlessly around the demand -- request -- to cum. Cum, Harry, cum, baby, please. Wordlessly, he sputtered through a sharp exhale, and it was the only indication before you felt the hot, wet release accompanying his groans.
“Fuck,” he choked, one of his hands landing hard on the counter to prop both of you up. You laughed, eyes rolling up, and you held on tightly through his turn to shake. 
“Happy New Year,” you said, still feeling a little punch-drunk from your orgasm.
He nodded. “H-Happy--” he gulped. “Happy New Year, darling.” His shoulders slumped. “Reckon this was the problem,” he said. “Should’ve fuckin’ rung the year in right last time, y’know?” 
“Right,” you breathed even as you shook your head, not quite caught up with what he was saying. 
“M’only sayin’,” he said. “We had sex the one time last Christmas. Should’ve had… a bit more,” he said indeterminately. 
“We haven’t had sex since you’ve been home.” 
Sighing heavily, he kissed your shoulder. “S’pose we’d better start,” he slurred. “S’not the new year yet.” 
366 notes · View notes
harryhandstan · 3 years
Text
a styles family christmas
I’m sorry this is late and shorter than I wanted but I couldn’t let the year end without a little holiday celebration from my favorite family! Linking the other parts of the series below so you can re-visit them if you choose but please don’t feel like you have to. Enjoy!
Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​, @bfharry​, and @iconicharry​ for the encouragement to finish this!! also miss zoey @milfzaynmalik is to thank for the super fluffy ending thank you love!
I Want Your Belly - Wonderful and Warm - Washed Away in You - Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?
word count: 3.1k
writing tag | masterlist
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The crackle of Sterling’s whimpers filtering through the baby monitor wakes you. You’re slipping your feet into your slippers before you realize that Harry’s side of the bed is empty, his voice joining the growing distress of your son.
“S’all this about, bub? Too early to be makin’ so much noise, son.”
You can tell even through the speaker of the monitor that Harry’s still half asleep. Sterling’s cries become slightly muffled, you’re sure by Harry holding his son to his chest now to try to soothe him.
“Let’s see if daddy can figure out what’s wrong before we have to wake mumma, hmm?”
By the time you make it down the hall to Sterling’s room, Harry’s already got him changed and mostly re-dressed in his Christmas pajamas, delicately trapping one of Sterling’s feet to put the red sock back on his foot that probably came loose while Harry was changing him. Your son was much like their father, never one to stay still for long.
“Getting pretty good at this dad thing, H. That may be a new diaper changing record for you.”
Harry flashes you a sleepy smile, placing kisses on each of Sterling’s cheeks as he coos happily up at the two of you.
“Look what you did, bub. Told ya y’were being too loud,” He drums his fingers along Sterling’s tummy before bending to kiss your cheek the same sweet way he did his son’s, “Sorry, love. Meant to turn the monitor off so we wouldn’t wake you.”
“It’s okay, it’s time for him to eat again so the alarm would’ve woken me anyway.”
He helps you get everything set up to nurse, gently gripping your shoulders before kissing your cheek again, “You feed bubs, I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”
You nod an agreement and he’s already made it out the door, preparing to make his way down the stairs before the statement registers in your brain, “Wait what? Why? Harry..it’s 4 a.m.”
He pokes his head back around the doorway, “S’Christmas morning. Don’t you want coffee before we do presents?”
You sigh, keeping your grip tight on Sterling as you let your head fall back to rest against the chair.
“Harry, I promise I will love and appreciate anything you got me just as much, if not more, when I’ve had a little more sleep.”
“Who says all the presents under the tree are for you, princess. Some of them are for Sterling and you and I both know it takes at least an hour to settle him back down after an early feeding so..thought we’d do Christmas early while he’s more alert.”
“What do you mean some..we only got him one thing. We agreed we wouldn’t go overboard with his first Christmas since he’s so young, remember?”
“I remember it as more of a suggestion than an agreement, really.”
The grin that spreads across his face tells you all you need to know. He definitely went overboard to spoil you both and your eyes grow misty with tears at what you’ll see when you venture downstairs later.
“I know how grumpy you get when you don’t get enough sleep though, so if y’really wanna wait til’ later..”
“We can do it now,” You interrupt, “But I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you don’t get a big reaction from Sterling, alright? You have to remember he’s only 7 weeks old.”
His face lights up, child-like wonder written across his features. He crosses the room quickly to smack you with another kiss, to the top of your head this time, “Meet you downstairs in a bit!”
You giggle at the way his feet shuffle almost too quickly back across the carpet and he trips over his own feet, catching himself and assuring you he’s fine before continuing down the stairs.
It’s only 20 minutes after that you join him in the kitchen, but you can tell he’s used every second of it to stay busy. There’s a plate of food already waiting for you and he offers you a mug of coffee, letting you transfer Sterling to his shoulder so he can burp him while you enjoy your breakfast.
“You didn’t make anything for yourself?”
“M’too excited to eat,” He shakes his head, “I’ll have something after.”
“Alright then, if you can wait then so can I,” You put your fork down, taking a long sip of your coffee before setting the mug back on the table. You offer him your hand, and for a second you think he may refuse, urge you to sit back down and enjoy your meal first. He doesn’t though, the buzz of elation at you seeing what he got for you overrides any other emotion and he grips your hand tightly in his, squeezing once before letting you pull him into the living room.
The only light provided in the room comes from the glow of the lights on your tree. They perfectly illuminate the shock on your face at the sight of how many presents have joined the pile since the night before.
“Harry, how did you have time to do all this? You’ve been busy or with us in all your off time lately.”
“Shh..they aren’t all from me,” He’s sitting on the floor in front of the tree, and he pats the spot next to him, inviting you to join him. He looks down at where Sterling sits in his lap when he says, “Had some help from Santa.”
That earns him a big smile from his son, who can’t take his bright eyes off of Harry. They drift to you for a second when you plop yourself next to the two of them.
“Seriously..I know you had help cause there’s no way you wrapped all these yourself.”
He covers Sterling’s ears, rolling his eyes at your slight insult, “Fine. If you must know, Auntie Sham helped me. I had them all sent to her and she wrapped them for me. I picked them up from her before I came home yesterday and snuck them in from the car after you fell asleep.”
“Sham? My best friend Sham? I just talked to her last night and she didn’t mention any of this to me!”
“‘Course she didn’t. Made her promise she wouldn’t tell. You’re too nosy for me to hide them here, too smart too. You would’ve figured it out a month ago if I hadn't asked Sham to help.”
“A month? The two of you have been scheming against me for a whole month?” He dodges the playful swat you attempt to throw his way, catches your arm instead to settle it against his chest. He uses it as leverage to pull you closer to his face, a firm kiss pressed to your lips. You melt against him, any irritation that may have been building fading away. You make a mental note to shoot Sham a text later to thank her.
When he finally breaks the kiss, he reaches with the arm that isn’t clutching tight to Sterling to grab a small box wrapped with simple red paper, adorned with green ribbon and a bow. This one is more messily wrapped than the others, and if you had to guess, Harry did it himself.
“Baby gets the first present.” He holds the box close to Sterling’s little hands. He has been grabbing at things more lately, discovering his hands and learning to use them. Thankfully they hadn’t quite learned to grip too tightly yet, since they mostly ended up in yours or Harry’s hair when either of you held him.
He tosses a matching box over to you and you catch it. You watch Sterling closely, see his sweet hands as they wrap around the box Harry offered him.
“Harry? Remember what I said earlier about Sterling being 7 weeks old so that present is most likely about to..end up in his mouth.” You chuckle as you watch that exact thing happen and Harry scrambling to move the box away from his son’s mouth, leaning in to ensure none of the paper got left behind. He breathes a sigh of relief when he inspects the package and finds that everything's still intact, maybe just a bit more wet than before.
“Let daddy help you, bub,” He nods to the one in your hands, “Open up, babe.”
You do, tearing away the paper and waiting for Harry to open the one for Sterling. You pull the top off the white box, revealing a bracelet made from the same beads as Harry’s teal Eliou necklace he owns. You look up to see a much smaller version being slipped onto Sterling’s wrist.
“I seeing you eyein’ my necklace when I wear it, but I also know you prefer bracelets so I had the designer make a set for you and bubs, so we can all match.”
“Oh, Harry, I love it so much! It really is gorgeous, thank you!” You turn your wrist around to get the full view of it fitting perfectly against your skin. You wipe a few tears when they escape from your eyes before exclaiming, “Okay! Your turn!”
You pass him an envelope labeled with his name and he raises his eyebrows at you as he takes it.
“Starting out a little small, are we?”
You shrug, “Depends on your definition of small.”
He’s gently pulling at the opening and before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “Just open it!”
“I am! I am! Just didn’t want to rip the card inside.” He works faster now, fingers tugging the edge of the card out and gasping when the airplane ticket falls out and lands in front of him.
“Is this what I think it is?” He snatches the piece of paper up, eyes scanning frantically over the words to find the destination, “How did you know when to schedule it for?”
“I know how homesick you’ve been lately, and how much you wanted more of your family to be able to meet Sterling so I thought we’d go to them instead of the other way around. Jeff helped me, said next week would be best. If you don’t want to do it then though we can..”
“No, this is perfect, except..”
“Except?”
“I also talked to Jeff about taking some time off to visit family. Yours instead of mine though. I see now why he had next week blocked off.”
“Wait..is that why my mom said ‘see you soon’ when we FaceTimed her last week? Did she know already?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t mind havin’ us around for a week or so.”
He reads over his ticket again, laughing when he sees the end date of the trip you scheduled, “We’re gonna have a busy two weeks.”
“Great minds think alike, I guess.”
His hand reaches the short distance to cup your jaw, thumb swiping away more happy tears that have spilled at the idea of getting to show off Sterling to yours and Harry’s family. He smiles proudly down at Sterling before returning his gaze back to you.
“Yeah, guess they do.”
You both work through opening the rest of the presents labeled for Sterling as fast as you can, knowing it won’t be long before he’s ready for his mid-morning nap. You both make goofy faces and silly noises to keep Sterling engaged with each of the gifts you tear open for him. You can see him fading though, eyes trying to slip closed between each gift.
“I know there’s only a few more left, but I think we should save them for later, H. He’s getting tired.”
“Guess I did go a little overboard, huh?”
“No, Harry, everything is perfect, really. You did amazing.”
“I’ll take him back up to his bed, get him settled.”
“I’ll do it,” You’re already up, gently lifting him from Harry’s arms, “I’ll come back down and we can open the rest of ours together while he naps.”
“Or we could nap while he does..isn’t that what they say? Sleep when the baby sleeps?”
“That’s what we’ve been told, yeah. Never really works out for us though, does it?”
There’s always too much to be done in between; anything from a sink full of dishes to be washed or a few loads of laundry to be done. It was a nice idea though, and when Harry is able to be home he’s helping with as much of it as he can, urging you to do the resting instead.
He shakes his head, “No, it doesn’t but..s’Christmas. There’s no rush today, right? We can just..relax.”
You shoot him a look and you both fall into a fit of giggles, knowing there’s no such thing now that you have Sterling. Not that he was a particularly fussy or difficult baby, but he was just that..a baby that took up all your time and attention and didn’t care what day it may be or how tired his parents were.
“No harm in trying.” You shrug, keeping a tight hold on the mostly asleep babe resting on your shoulder as you make your way up the stairs, Harry following close behind, ready to catch you if your clumsy feet were to trip on the way up.
“Tryin’? Guarantee y’ll be snoring by the time your head hits your pillow in about 5 minutes.”
You don’t even have the energy to playfully scold him for his teasing, a yawn stretching across your face only confirming his theory. You’ve made it back to the doorway of Sterling’s room and you turn back to face Harry, a dreamy smile working it’s way across your lips. He clears the space still standing between the two of you easily, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a hug.
Harry’s careful not to squeeze too tight, to add the right amount of pressure in the embrace so you know how much he loves and appreciates you. You’re the one who deepens it, still keeping a firm hold to your son but pressing yourself as close as possible to his chest. His hand rests on the small of your back as he reaches around you to turn the doorknob to guide you through the doorway. In his haste to help, he’s pushed the door more roughly than he intended. The creak of the door startles Sterling, and you both wince at what you know is coming; your son’s cry rings loud through his room, breaking the silence you had already adjusted to. You do your best to pacify him, pacing a few times, shushing and rubbing his back in an attempt to quiet him.
You don’t even notice Harry’s absence until he’s back, a chestnut colored teddy bear held in his right hand. It’s the one present that the two of you picked out and agreed on, the one thing Sterling actively tried to reach for when it was opened earlier in the morning. Harry swears it looks just like one he had owned when he was younger and he wanted his son to grow up with a similar comfort. Sterling had stared at it for 10 minutes, no matter how you and Harry had tried to pull his attention away with other things you had opened for him. Currently, Sterling’s louder cries had diminished to softer ones, but still hadn’t completely stopped.
You speak quietly into his ear, almost a whisper when you say, “Look what daddy went back downstairs and got for you, angel. Don’t let him convince you he picked it out though.”
“Mumma’s a terrible liar,” Harry sing-songs at Sterling, flashing a look of disbelief up towards you, “Can’t believe you’d lie to our boy like that on Christmas.”
“It’s not a lie!” You’re still keeping your voice low so as not to disturb the baby again, “I showed it to you online weeks before we found that one in the store!”
“Y’sure? Cause I remember you being distracted by how cute the baby shoes were. I had to convince you not to spend $50 on a pair of boots he wouldn’t even be able to wear until next year!”
“I..well..they were on sale! He’d look so cute running around in boots next year!”
“You think he’ll be running by next year?” There’s a genuine fear in his voice at that thought, the idea of his baby growing up that fast.
“Maybe. He’ll be a year old next Christmas so it’s a definite possibility, especially if he takes after you.”
His voice is somber when he speaks again, “I can’t imagine him being anything other than the tiny baby he is now.”
“Babies grow, H,” The statement comes out more sarcastic than you intended, so you add, “Whether we want him to or not. We can always have another one too, you know.”
“You’re already thinking about another baby? Now?
“Well, not this second, no. But eventually. Like to maybe give you a little girl if you want one. Or any other boy is fine too. I’d be happy either way.”
“I’d take a girl.” He smirks at you, taking the now sleeping Sterling from you, placing a kiss to his forehead before bending to transfer him carefully into his crib. You both hold your breath as Sterling stretches, another tiny mewl at not being held anymore. His eyes stay closed though, and the two of you release a sigh of relief at the sound of his soft snores.
“Yeah?” You work one arm around his waist as he bends to tuck the teddy bear next to Sterling. He knows it can’t stay there while he naps, but for now he hopes it’ll bring his son even more comfort than he’s already feeling, at least for the few minutes more that he’ll be standing there to watch over him.
“Yeah,” He nods, still looking down when he continues, “As long as she turns out just like you, I’d love a lil girl.”
You don’t know what to say to that; don’t know how to tell him that one of your nightly prayers is that Sterling will turn out just like him. Big-hearted and kind with soft brown curls and that bright smile that could charm anyone. You would tell him later, but for now all you can do is stare lovingly back at him, blinking a few times to clear the tears. A love this big was something that had only ever existed in your dreams, and now you were being reminded of how real and true it was, your only response is to wrap your other arm around him and hug him tightly. You know he’ll be able to interpret the hug as a sign of your admiration for what he’s just said, for the wish that he hopes was just spoken into existence for the future.
When he does lift his eyes back up to study your face, his next breath is simply used to tell you, “Merry Christmas, darlin’”
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Masks and Music
(Part 1)
Part 2
I didn't think that my last post would've gotten ANY notes at all, so imagine my surprise when I find out that people actually liked it. After that suprise I thought why not and make another one so here we go! This is a Miraculous/Batfam crossover.
Imagine that Damian gets sent to Paris because the fam doesn't want him to become an emotionally constipated sad boi like Bruce and think that a change in scenery would help.
They don't know about the whole Hawkmoth situation because SOMEONE from the justice league decided that the while thing was a prank DESPITE that it was an ENTIRE CITY calling instead of a single person.
Like, aren't you guys supposed to be the world's greatest heros or something?
Who hired you?
Damian being the grumpy lil kid that he is holds a grudge and decides to not accept any calls or video chats from his family or tell them about Hawkmoth because that's what you get when you send someone across the world against their will.
(and because of plot convenience shhh)
Anyways, Damian goes to school as instantly adds Lila onto his mental list of people he needs to get rid of.
I mean, seriously, he's only been is the room for what, 15 seconds and he's already getting a migraine?
Great. Juusssttt great.
He sits in the back of the class with what seems to be the only person with brain cells in this room.
The dark haired girl just looks over and sees the disgust at Lila written all over his face and gives him a silent empathetic nod.
'This is unfortunately normal here.' she tries to convey through the small action.
He just nods back to show his understanding before turning around to observe the others.
In a few minutes Ms. Bustier walks in the room and asks him to introduce himself to the class.
It looks like the teacher never told the class that they were getting a new student because they all have to do double takes when they realize that there's a new face in the room.
He gives them the bare basics, telling them that his name is Damian Grayson, he's from America, and that he doesn't want any of them to talk to him before sitting down.
Clearly the teacher wanted him to say more or scold him for being so rude but a glare shut her up.
Later during a break period Lila tries to flirt with him and brags all about how she's met so many different celebrities and her achievements.
He tells her off and tries to move away but her nails are digging into his arms as she tries to convince him that he should stay away from Marinette.
Before he can maim her, the dark haired girl comes out from behind him and starts spraying Lila down like an unruly cat with some sort of strong smelling liquid from a spray bottle.
Lila screeches and stomps away.
When he turns to his hero the girl explains.
"It's a mixture of shredded lemon, expired maple syrup, vinegar, and pomegranate juice. I call it People Repellant but Thot Begone works too. Oh, and I'm Marinette by the way."
He eyes her hand before shaking it.
"Damian, though I assume you already know that. Can I get some of that by the way? I know a couple insufferable annoyances that would benefit from a spray down.
Marinette just blinks for a second before she bursts out laughing and that was the start of a great friendship.
Together they:
Make fun of Lila in the back of class.
Help eachother with homework (they only cheat off eachother when they REALLY need help)
Prank Lila in odd ways (Hey, just because she found hundreds of furbies hidden around her house that turn on one by one in the middle of the night effectively scaring the crap out of her when she's trying to sleep doesn't mean that it's their fault. She had it coming.)
Break a couple laws (shhhhhhh. Those toy stores don't need those furbies anyways).
Dare eachother over stupid things (they still insist that the cereal incident was caused by the other).
And overall become closer as friends.
They bring out the overdramatic chaotic gremlin child in eachother.
One time when Damian goes over to Marinette's place to work on a project he finds her singing a Disney song to herself on her balcony.
This isn't the first time they've caught eachother singing.
One time Marinette caught Damian in the art room at school humming one of the many annoyingly cheesy and catchy songs that Dick likes to listen to.
Despite him explaining the embarrassing situation to her she still teased him for weeks after.
He'll never get to live it down.
Damian shakes his head to get rid of the flashback when a devious smirk spreads across his face as a revenge plan comes to mind.
After carefully placing his stuff on the floor he sneakily makes his way across the space until he's right behind her.
That's when he joins in.
Screaming at the top of his lungs at first, effectively giving her a mini heart attack before eventually quieting down to a normal singing volume.
She glares at him, annoyed by his loud and obnoxious entrance before she starts singing again.
They eventually end up full Disney movie dramatically performing around her balcony with dance moves and over dramatic acting.
Is it bad that actual birds and other animals are appearing and joining in?
Damian totally kept one of the pigeons.
He named it Dolores.
(He later trained Dolores to attack Rossi on sight.)
When they're finished they end up on the floor out of breath.
They stay like that for a few minutes before Damian sits up.
"That. That was fun. I don't think I've actually ever sang before."
Marinette jolts up in suprise and turns to face him.
"Really? I never would've guessed. You have a really nice singing voice."
He would deny till his dying breath that he blushed when she said that but he covers it up with a smirk.
"Well I guess that's just because yours is so terrible in comparison."
He squawks when she jabs a finger in his side.
"Pshh. As if. Besides, my singing skills can't be worse then your gaming skills." She challenges with a cheeky smile.
"ExCuSe mE?!"
And that's how they spend the rest of the day playing video games, leaving the unfinished project to be completed on a later day.
Good thing it isn't due until 2 weeks time.
After a couple of hours playing video games, creating many possible Lila murder plans, eating pastries, and joking around, it's time for him to leave.
As Damian left for his place he got a feeling that something big was gonna happen.
Marinette also got the feeling but they both ignored it.
Little did they know, someone just happened to walk by and starstruck by the amazing singing they recorded the performance before posting it on the internet.
Imagine the duo's suprise when they wake up the next day to find themselves trending on the internet.
Luckily the video quality was pretty trash so their faces weren't identifiable but the audio was loud and clear.
The world was talking about the cute couple singing to their hearts desire on a balcony. If that's not cliche and adorable then the world doesn't know what is.
The assumption about their relationship status left them looking like tomatos but that didn't stop them from wonder why they didn't notice a creep recording them.
Damn Disney songs and their unnatural ability to distract people.
Of course Lila took advantage of the rising popularity of the video and talked about how she taught the two people in the video how to sing and gave them tips.
The two just walked past the idiot squad and sat down in their seats, making a mental note to come up with a prank later, when the akuma alarms came on.
They fall into their normal routine of Marinette running out to find a place to transform as Damian covers for her.
Oops did I forget to mention that Damian found out her identity because she crashed through his window in the middle of the night still transformed and asked him what's the answer to question 24 in their science homework because she just defeated an akuma by herself and was running on 20 minutes of sleep?
My bad.
Anyways it turns out today was the day Marinette had officially had enough of Chat's bullcrap.
It was gonna be a normal akuma situation.
Ladybug trying to fight the poor butterfly victim while chat noir either doesn't show up, tries to do everything on his own to impress her and ruins the whole plan, or just watches and complains about how she needs to get over her denial and date him BUT
This time he decided to actively try to push her in the akuma's way therefore putting her in SO MUCH MORE DANGER than she was already in.
Now she had to dodge out of the akuma's way AND CHAT'S!
WhAt ThE fUdGe?!?!
You think possibly killing Ladybug and trying to force her to beg for you to save her is gonna make her like you?!?
Just how hard did you hit your head when Gabriel dropped you on the floor when you were 2?
After the akuma was eventually defeated Ladybug told Chat to meet her on an abandoned rooftop that night because they needed to talk.
Chat being the oblivious person that he is (I swear I don't actually hate chat noir, this is for the plot I'm sorry) thought that it was for a love confession and became overly smug before leaving.
Making sure that he isn't following her, Marinette meets up with Damian at his place (school's over because of the attack) and asks him to help.
Later that day when the two miraculous holders meet up Ladybug distracts the Catboy by flirting with him while Damian uses his ninja skills for something other than sneaking up on her and giving Marinette mini heart attacks.
From behind he quickly hits a pressure point causing the other boy to fall unconscious.
Using her ALMIGHTY GUARDIAN OF THE MIRACULOUS powers, Ladybug takes Adrien's ring away and places a spell on him that makes it so he will never be able to use another miraculous ever again.
After they take Adrien home Marinette gives Damian the ring and Night Prowler is born.
He promises to do everything in his power to make sure that Selina and his family doesn't find out for the sake of his pride.
We'll see how that goes.
Night Prowler first officially appeared during an akuma named 'Break Dancer'.
Ironically, she was a ballerina that had to drop out of the finals in a competition because she broke her right leg the day before the show.
She could turn civilians into back up dancers and forced them to perform against their will.
They also worked as minions who would attack the duo for her while she stayed a safe distance away.
It was pretty obvious that the akumatized item was the music box held inside the bag that Break Dancer had slung around her shoulders but the real question was how could they get to it without becoming attacked by the backup dancer or becoming one of them.
Luckily (eheheh), a car with an open window playing music just happened to pass by before driving off.
Before it drove off, the music coming from the car was loud enough to play over the music box which caused some of the minions to become free again and run off.
Ladybug called her lucky charm and a Bobby pin landed in her hand.
As she looked around she noticed a store a couple blocks away that had a couple radios.
Unfortunately, the store was locked and closed.
Fortunately, she knew how to pick locks and a Bobby pin did come from her lucky charm soooo......
Who is she to deny literal gods.
They break into the store and grab a radio, and a speaker and rush over to where the akuma was causing chaos.
They turn on the radio, connect the speaker and turn the volume on as loud as it can go before flipping through the stations for a good song.
If they're gonna fight with music in the background they're gonna be picky about it and wont settle for anything other than epic.
While fighting they eventually get swept up in the music and end up singing along.
It's nothing less than full on majestic.
When the fight is over and the akuma is purified they find out that someone recorded it and posted it on the internet as well.
Now everyone knows that the beloved hero of Paris and her new partner were the two people singing on that balcony.
Ummmmm.....
Good thing that the video quality was trash right?
If it weren't for that their identities would've been busted the moment they started singing in hero form.
Luckily there aren't many people other than Damian that know what Marinette's singing voice sounds like so they're okay.
Well.... They WERE okay,
Until a certain rockstar and his agent came across the two videos and put two and two together.
So now King Sting (bee!jagged) and Peridot (turtle!penny) have joined the team.
Poor Penny, now she has to deal with two gremlin children and a some sort of bizarre man-child.
The next akuma confused the group quite a bit.
He didn't really do anything but sit on a rooftop waiting for the miracle team to show up.
They were all suspicious of him at first but when they did reveal themselves to him he explained his situation.
He was akumatized because his favorite rock band broke up but he didn't really want to take their miraculouses away.
He just asked if they could perform another song for him and he would give his akumatized item to them.
They all sorta looked at eachother and collectively went 'screw it why not' and sang another song.
If they were great before, they are absolutely AMAZING now.
Well that's what happens when you add a famous rockstar to a team of singing superheros I guess.
The akuma was blown away and true to his word handed over the rolled up picture in his pocket and was purified despite of Hawkmoth's nagging.
Haha screw you Hawky.
This time the ordeal was recorded by a news station and the 'hand over the akuma in exchange for a song' thing became a trend.
There were still normal akuma's that didn't follow follow it but those were far flung between.
It seems like Hawkmoth was getting annoyed by this so there started being less akuma attacks over the months.
Because of this some people were actively trying to get upset to attract one of the purple butterflies.
They traded one good thing for another I guess.
To stop that from happening the group started performing in public as superheros during concerts and festivals.
Because of this they became quite well known outside of Paris as well.
Is it ironic that more people know them as a band rather than a superhero team now?
When Marinette learned that they could change what their superhero costumes looked like if they put enough will into it she squealed.
Marinette designs superhero performance costumes for them whenever they have a festival to play at.
Whenever asked about their outfits they always reply with MDC.
Marinette's business gets really popular after that.
And since no one knows who MDC really is, she doesn't have to worry about the whole "Oh no me and my family are gonna be in danger!" thing
It's a win win!
Overtime they basically become a second (or third for some people) family to eachother.
Damian becomes more 'kid like' and open to others,
Marinette becomes more confident and overall happier,
Jagged gets to hang out with his awesome niece and her 'maybe more than just a friend',
And Penny gets a new outlet for stress and has so many more crazy stories to tell people.
One day while she's in the living room on the sofa watching 'The AristoCats' Damian just barges into the room and dramatically flops over onto of her.
He just lays there with his head in her lap and the rest of his body sprawled on the couch.
After everything that has happened this is normal for them now.
Without asking any questions or talking at all they just watch the movie together with the occasional remark or quip between them.
Around half way through the movie Jagged kicks down the door, effectively scaring the crap out of the two teens, while Penny follows behind him with an apologetic look on her face.
At first Jagged was yelling about something having to do with'Fang' and 'Dragon' and 'Miraculous' but after taking in the domestic atmosphere of the room he just sits down on the floor and joins in on watching the movie.
Penny, shaking her head in both amusement and exasperation, sits down on another chair and does the same.
While combing through Damian's hair with her fingers Marinette looks around the room.
'My life can't get any more complicated, can it?'
Oh boy, she just jinxed it.
This is just an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for awhile and I couldn't resist the urge to write it out. I AM planning on making a part 2 so if you like this keep an eye out for that. I'm by no means a fast writer though so it will take a while. But then again not many people will probably read this soo.... Yeah.
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spritewrites · 4 years
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not touching you
Fandom: The Umbrella Academy
Characters: Diego & the Hargreeves siblings
Word Count: 1368
“F-four!”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“Y-yes you - Mom! Number Four’s d-d-doing it again!”
“No, I’m not!”
Grace didn’t even look up from where she was mending One’s mission suit. “Four, don’t poke your brother. You know he doesn’t like it.”
Four grinned widely. “But I’m not, see?” He hovered his index finger centimeters from Two’s shoulder. Two whined and tried to shove his hand away.
“S-stop it!”
“But I’m not touching you!”
“Shut up!” groans Three, looking up from her book: A History of Political Manipulation in America, Volume Two. Even during their allotted free time, their father rarely allowed reading material that was not considered educational. “Or I’ll rumor you both to stay in your rooms for the rest of the night!”
“No!” shouted her brothers simultaneously, their eyes wide. Four carefully removed his arm from Two’s side, quietly scooting further away on the couch. Free time was more valuable than tormenting Two any day.
Two smiled, trying to hide his celebration at this small victory. He leaned to look over Mom’s shoulder at her stitching, marveling at the back and forth, back and forth of her needle. Every stitch was perfect. He sighed happily, resting his cheek on his hands. He could stay like this forever.
*
“Klaus, enough.”
“Sorry, jeez. Just trying to get comfortable.”
Diego slouched, pulling his elbows even closer into his chest. He hated the middle seat, but he hated losing to Klaus even more. He’d have to look up whether there were ways to cheat at rock paper scissors later.
“Are we there yet?”
He spun to glare at Klaus. “Did you seriously just –”
“Ten minutes,” called Vanya from the driver’s seat. “So, almost.”
Diego slouched even further, almost sliding off the car seat. “You’re acting like a child, Klaus.”
“How so? I’m just asking our lovely sister how much farther to our destination. Is that a crime?”
The sickly sweetness of Klaus’ smile was going to give Diego a toothache, he could feel it. He opened his mouth to respond, but his brother was already turning back to the window. Fine. Good. He might finally get some peace.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the trickle of faint music coming from Allison’s headphones on the other side of him. Five was in the front seat, feet up on the dashboard, reading Infinite Jest of all things. Diego couldn’t understand the old man. He’d always preferred comic books. Luther was taking up the whole back row. Once they all started spending more time together, a minivan was quickly established as a necessity. And thank God they’d gone through with it – Diego wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to take much more of Luther’s wiggling around in the trunk, making the whole car shake. Not to mention his hot breath on the back of his neck. Yuck. With this setup, at least he got a little peace.
Well, in theory, anyway. His current situation was a little less than ideal, since he’d lost the fight for the window seat, Klaus seemed intent on making his life hell today (more than usual), and the half hour drive from their hotel to the Grand Canyon seemed like it was taking a million years. Allison’s suggestion for a family vacation had been a good one, initially, but Diego had forgotten exactly how tiresome his siblings could be over long stretches.
He felt the presence of something near his shoulder and snatched up Klaus’ outstretched index finger with vigilante reflexes. His brother’s mischievous grin made his blood boil.
“Would you stop?” he snapped, glaring at his brother.
“I’m not touching you.”
“Klaus.”
“I’m not touching you!”
“You idiot –”
“Not really doing anything, as a matter of fact.”
“Asshole, I swear –”
“I can touch you if you want.” A wicked grin.
“God, I don’t even care anymore, just don’t –”
Like lightning, Klaus’ finger dodged under his elbow to land a poke right in the soft spot beneath his brother’s ribs, and honestly, calling the noise that Diego let out a ‘shout’ would be generous. ‘Squeak’ would probably be more accurate. Allison smothered a laugh into her hand, and Vanya shot a glance into the rearview mirror.
“Everything okay back there?” she asked, just as another poke found its way to Diego’s stomach. This time, ‘squeal’ would be a fair descriptor. Diego hunched forward, trying to curl up as best as he could – both to protect himself, and to hide the stubborn smile that was creeping over his face.
“Klaus,” he tried again, but his voice sounded weak even to him, and he didn’t get any farther before he felt cold fingers scribbling over the back of his neck. He launched backwards, slamming his back into the seat to try to crush Klaus’ hand, but only succeeded in trapping the wiggling fingers there. A high-pitched giggle managed to leak between his gritted teeth. Fuck.
“Aw, come on, Diego, you’re always so serious,” Klaus teased, moving back to poke at his brother’s side. Diego gasped, jerking away from the touch right into Allison’s lap.
Allison rolled her eyes, but Diego could also see her fighting a smile. “Guys, honestly.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Diego protested. He swatted at Klaus’ hands, only barely managing to keep his relentless poking at bay. “He’s the one who’s being an asshole!”
“What are you doing to him back there, Klaus?” Vanya asked, not taking her eyes off the road.
“Nothing!” Klaus responded cheekily, just as Diego replied, “He’s torturing me!”
Allison sighed. “Klaus, if you’re going to torment our brother, at least do it right.” Carefully, she reached over with her long nails to tickle over Diego’s stomach.
Diego shrieked, flailed, and finally fell into helpless laughter.
Klaus was grinning like an idiot, and immediately resumed his poking mission, but without Diego’s resistance, it was much more effective. Diego turned red, giggles giving way outright cackling. Klaus was right, he was pretty serious most of the time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this. It almost felt… nice.
Then his damn family had to go ruin everything by joining in.
“YOU FUCKING –” was all he managed before he was completely overwhelmed – Klaus was scribbling furiously over his ribs, digging in between the bones; Allison was relentless on his stomach, even sneaking a finger or two into his navel to make him scream; Luther leaned forward to curl his big stupid ape fingers around Diego’s ears; even Vanya snuck a hand back to tickle his knees. Diego was dying, he was certain of it, he was going to fucking die. All that work to stop the apocalypse for nothing. Death by sibling tickle torture.
Just when he thought he was going to cry or pass out or kill them all or something, he heard Vanya say, “We’re here!” and the car pulled to a stop.
Immediately, Diego was out of his seat and launching himself over Allison’s knees to scramble out of the car, ending up with a face full of Arizona dirt. He was only dimly aware of his evil siblings cracking up in the car behind him as he tried to catch his breath, wheezing, trying to rid his system of the residual giggles.
“You okay?”
He looked up to see the last sibling he’d expect standing over his shoulder – Five, with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face, still clutching his oversized book. Diego flushed, accepting the peace offering and staggering to his feet.
“Thanks for not joining in.”
Five shrugged. “They’re children. They’ll grow out of it.”
Diego scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I hope so.”
Before he could say anymore, Five’s smirk grew into a genuine smile, and fingers were jabbing into his sides from the back. He squealed, spinning to see Klaus with a shit-eating grin and outstretched hands. Furious, he turned back, but Five was gone, already on the steps of the visitor’s center. Klaus took off after him, running for his life, and the rest of Diego’s siblings were close behind.
Diego growled, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he started running too. “I’m gonna get you assholes!”
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noona-clock · 4 years
Text
The Doctor - Part 3
Genre: Doctor!AU
Pairing: Donghyuk (iKON) x You (Female!Reader)
Warnings: None
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,994
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During the next week, you tried to forget about the fact that Donghyuk had your phone number. Or that you had his. You had told him to let you know when he was free to be shown around town, but he hadn’t messaged or called you yet, which was fine because he was a busy guy, but I guess that also meant he didn’t feel like just talking casually to you? Or maybe he was too busy for that, and if that was the case, Claire was going to be one disappointed little girl.
Because, to nobody’s surprise, she asked about him every day.
“When are we showing Dr. Kim around? Where are we taking him? If I don’t go with you, will it be a date?”
...To be quite frank, you would also be disappointed if he didn’t even end up being your friend.
But then, on Friday afternoon just after Claire got home from school, your phone rang.
And one glance at your screen showed you the following name:
Dr. Kim
You picked it up without saying a word, knowing that Claire would be trying to listen in if she knew who it was.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Hey,” he replied, and you could hear that sweet smile of his in his voice. “I’m so sorry I haven’t called earlier, and I know it’s kind of short notice, but... are you free tonight?”
“Tonight?” you repeated, and you heard Claire’s soft gasp.
Your daughter ran over to you, grabbing your arm and tugging your sleeve to get your attention. “Is that Dr. Kim?!” she hissed.
“Yes, tonight would be fine,” you answered with a grin. “Claire and I were going to eat at our favorite burger place, so we can turn that into one of our stops on the tour.”
You pressed your index finger to Claire’s lips because she was still whispering ‘Is that Dr. Kim?!’ over and over.
“Perfect,” Donghyuk said.
“We can come pick you up,” you offered. “Just text me your address, and we’ll be over in... half an hour?”
“Sounds good, will do,” he replied. “See you then.”
“Bye,” you smiled. 
Before you had the chance to hang up, Claire yelled out “BYE DR. KIM!”
Not even a minute later, a text message came through with Donghyuk’s address, and you told Claire to go up and get changed for a night out on the town. You were still in your work clothes, so you were certainly going to do the same.
After changing into jeans and one of your cutest blouses, you even went so far as to touch up your makeup and add a little eyeliner and lipstick.
You anticipated Claire’s teasing as you both met out in the hallway outside of your bedrooms, but instead, your daughter froze. She lifted her eyebrows and said, “Wow. You look really pretty.”
A half-smile quirked at your lips, and you bent down to cradle her little cheeks in your palms. “So do you, my sweet girl,” you told her before kissing her nose.
She squirmed away from your affections, of course, but as soon as the two of you left the house and headed out to your car, she grabbed your hand and pressed her cheek to your arm.
Once you got inside your car, you clicked on Donghyuk’s address from his message to bring it up in your GPS app. As soon as you saw it on the map, you knew where it was -- a pretty nice neighborhood, if you were not mistaken.
And, less than ten minutes later, you were proven right. You pulled into the driveway of a very nice house, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening.
“Whoa,” Claire breathed from the backseat.
“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me,” you replied. And then you turned around to look at her. “Do me favor, baby girl. Become a doctor when you grow up so you can buy me a nice house like this.”
Claire let out a single, amused laugh and replied with, “Yeah, sure. Okay, Mom.”
You laughed in return, though it still made your heart flip and flutter when she called you ‘Mom.’
Just as you turned around to get on your phone and call Donghyuk, you saw his front door open, and he appeared in the door and lifted one arm to wave at you.
Your heart flipped and fluttered again, though you told yourself it was still doing that from the ‘Mom’ thing.
“Hi, Dr. Kim!” Claire greeted the second he opened the passenger-side door and slid into the seat. “As you can see, I am feeling much, much better. Thank you for being such a good doctor.”
You almost choked on your breath as you shifted your car into reverse and began to back out of Donghyuk’s driveway to begin your tour.
“I think you should probably thank your mom for that,” he chuckled in reply, buckling his seat belt. “But I appreciate the compliment, and I am very glad you’re feeling better.”
When you glanced at your daughter in the rear view mirror as you got to the end of the driveway, you saw she was beaming adorably.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Donghyuk turn toward you, and then you heard him ask, “How are you? No fever, I hope.”
“No,” you answered with a soft laugh. “No fever. I’m doing just fine, how are you?”
“I’m pretty pumped for this tour, I’ll be honest,” he said. “What’s our first stop?”
You looked back at Claire in the mirror again as you began to drive down the street toward the neighborhood entrance. “What do you think, Claire Bear? Where to first?”
“School!” she chirped.
“Weren’t you just at school?” Donghyuk asked with an amused grin. “It’s Friday afternoon, and you already want to go back?”
“We’re not going inside,” Claire corrected. “But you can see my classroom window from the front!”
“All right, to school we go,” you nodded, putting on your blinker and turning toward the elementary school.
As you drove the few miles it took to reach Claire’s school, you pointed out a few of the older houses in town, giving Donghyuk a very brief history of the families who’d lived there back in the day. Surprisingly, he seemed genuinely interested, listening intently to you and asking a few questions here and there.
It was very obvious that he was an intellectual, and... that was very attractive to you.
When you arrived in front of Claire’s school, you pulled into the parking lot and drove as slowly as you could. Claire thrust her arm in-between the driver’s and passenger’s seat, pointing to a window near the end of the building.
“That’s my classroom!” she proclaimed with pride. And then she pointed to the sign with the school’s name by the front entrance. “And that is where they took my picture when I got student of the month. They chose me out of my whole grade.”
Since Donghyuk was a pediatrician and interacted with children all the time, you figured he knew by now to always take what they say with a generous grain of salt. But Claire was actually telling the truth, so you nodded in agreement.
“They did,” you said. “I was very proud, and we went to the zoo downtown to celebrate.”
“But I know I shouldn’t be good in school just to get a prize,” Claire said. “I should be good because it’s the right thing to do.”
You glanced over at Donghyuk when he turned around to look at Claire. There was a very impressed expression on his face, and you couldn’t stop a very wide grin from forming on your lips.
“Wow,” he said to her with a little chuckle. “You are very smart, did you know that?”
“Mommy tells me that all the time,” Claire replied. “She also says sometimes that I’m too smart for my own good, whatever that means.”
A laugh burst from your throat, and you shook your head in amusement.
“Yeah, my mom used to say that to me, too,” Donghyuk admitted with a smirk.
“So, I can become a doctor one day like you?”
“Of course! You can be anything you want to be,” he answered.
“Well, Mommy just said she wants me to be a doctor so I can --”
“Where to next?!” you interrupted. “How about we go down toward City Hall, huh? What do you think, Claire Bear?”
“Yeah!” she agreed. “We can show Dr. Kim the library!”
Phew. You had successfully dodged that bullet.
Thankfully, Claire didn’t bring up -- or start to bring up -- the fact that you wanted her to become a doctor so she could buy you a nice house again. In fact, for the next hour or so, the three of you had a really nice time driving all around town and chatting and getting to know each other.
You drove Donghyuk down to the small but bustling Main Street area and showed him City Hall, Claire’s library, the police and fire stations, and several locally-owned restaurants.
You took him past the middle and high schools, the sports fields, the local park, and pointed out where an ice skating rink and Christmas tree lot was set up during Winter.
Finally, you ended up at a burger place, one owned by Claire’s teacher’s husband -- Mr. Campbell -- who greeted you personally and warmly as soon as you walked in. You introduced him to Donghyuk, explaining that he had just moved here and had also helped Claire when she was sick last week.
“Oh, right,” Mr. Campbell replied as he smiled and shook Donghyuk’s hand. “I heard about the new doctor over at the children’s office. Welcome, glad to finally meet you.”
Mr. Campbell escorted the three of you to what he claimed was the best seat in the house, leaving you with menus and a promise of returning soon for your drink orders.
“Jimmy gave us the best seat in the house when we ate there last week,” Claire pointed out. “I might get used to this.”
“Maybe I should come eat with you every time you go out,” Donghyuk mused.
“Why?” Claire asked.
“I want the best seat in the house, too!”
Claire set down her menu and pursed her lips slightly across the table at him. “Maybe if you got Student of the Month, you would get the best seat in the house on your own.”
Donghyuk laughed at her comment -- well, you did, too, to be honest. But you also poked her side and said, “Hey, now. Don’t be sassy at the dinner table.”
Claire turned back to look at Donghyuk with her most apologetic expression and said, “I’m sorry, Dr. Kim. I bet you will definitely get Doctor of the Month sometime. Maybe even twice.”
Donghyuk leaned forward closer to her, his smile so sweet you could practically feel a cavity forming in your teeth. “I’ll certainly try my best,” he grinned.
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Even though Mr. Campbell’s restaurant did serve milkshakes, you opted to take Donghyuk to an ice cream stand just down the block, wanting to make sure he saw as much of the town as you could show him.
Mr. Campbell understood, of course, and even gave Claire a coupon for a free milkshake the next time she came back in.
The three of you walked down the sidewalk to the ice cream stand, the sunset casting the most beautiful orange glow around you.
Claire saw some friends from school eating ice cream when you arrived, and after raising her eyebrows at you, you let her go ahead and talk to them.
Donghyuk insisted on treating you, and you thanked him eagerly when the teenage boy behind the counter handed you a waffle cone filled with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Claire tore herself away from her friends long enough to retrieve her own cone (though hers was filled with strawberry), and then you and Donghyuk made your way to an empty bench just a few yards away.
There was a few minutes of very slightly awkward silence after you first sat down, but the two of you were busy licking away at your ice cream, so you didn’t feel the need to fill it with uncomfortable small talk.
In fact, when Donghyuk first spoke, his question was basically the opposite of small talk.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” he began, his forehead wrinkled with curiosity. “What’s the story behind Claire?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, and Donghyuk obviously took that as a sign you didn’t want to answer.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You don’t have to --”
“No, it’s okay!” you assured him earnestly. “I don’t mind, really. I was just... trying to figure out where to start.”
Donghyuk nodded, obviously wanting to allow you time to think before you answered.
You shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh before you did, keeping your focus on your ice cream so you wouldn’t get emotional. “Well... I always knew I wanted children. I’ve always wanted to be a mom, and... I’ve always wanted to adopt because... I was adopted, too. My parents started fostering me when I was six and adopted me when I was nine, so I wanted to do that for another child. I just... never found the right guy to do it with, so I finally decided to just apply to be a foster parent myself. My parents were great references since they were already in the foster system, and I make a good enough income to support a family on my own. I’m lucky enough that they accepted me, and I’m even more lucky that Claire was my very first foster child.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smile curve Donghyuk’s lips, and it took everything in you not to turn and look at him. But you were already feeling a small tightness in your throat, and looking at his precious grin would probably just make it worse.
“I knew I wanted to adopt her a couple of weeks after she moved in, but I waited until the year mark before asking her. I wanted to give her time to adjust and be really sure that she wanted to be a family with me. I filed the papers the day after I asked her, and... remember that night at Jimmy’s? When you almost ran into me?”
“Of course,” he answered immediately.
“We were celebrating the adoption being finalized.”
Donghyuk shifted toward you, his knees now almost touching yours. “That’s amazing,” he said softly. “How long did it take?”
“About ten months,” you told him.
“Geez, I bet you were so relieved.”
You nodded, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Yes. And very, very happy.”
“That’s amazing,” he repeated. “I know people have kids every day, but... what you did. I think it’s incredibly admirable.”
“I just know what it feels like,” you said with a shrug. I wanted to give another child the same chance I got. The chance to have a family... to be loved.”
The lump in your throat only got bigger, and then Donghyuk said, “I know I don’t know you guys that well, but... I think Claire knows how lucky she is.”
And that, of course, only made it worse. Hot tears pricked the back of your eyes, and you choked out, “I hope so.”
You saw Donghyuk move the arm closest to you, and you felt his hand come to rest on your back. He rubbed it comfortingly, even sliding his hand up to squeeze your shoulder.
“Do you want another scoop of ice cream?” he offered with a grin.
“No, that’s okay,” you chuckled as you shook your head. “Thank you, though.”
“By the way,” he said. “I’m sorry it took me so long to call you. I wanted to send you a message or something before today... I was just busy. And maybe a little nervous.”
“Nervous?” you asked, slightly astonished. “Why would you be nervous?”
“I thought maybe you were just being nice and didn’t actually want to show me around.”
“No, of course, not. I really did want to.”
“Yeah, I figured you seemed too good to be like that. Plus, I really don’t know anyone outside of the office, and I wanted to actually make some friends here.”
“I’m glad you called,” you assured him, now feeling much more at ease after your emotional, vulnerable story.
The two of you spoke of less serious things for the next fifteen minutes or so, and when both of your cones were gone, you called Claire over so you could all walk back to your car.
When you dropped Donghyuk off back at his house, he thanked both you and Claire profusely for taking the time to show him around. He assured you he had a great time, and Claire reminded him that he most definitely would get Doctor of the Month -- maybe even twice!
You drove home with a smile on your face, but when your phone chimed after you stepped in through your front door... you had even more of a reason to smile.
Donghyuk had sent you a text.
Thank you again for tonight. I had a really good time, and I really appreciate everything.
As Claire headed upstairs to change into her pajamas before your weekly Friday night movie, you typed out a response.
You’re welcome 😊 I hope you feel like you have a friend here now -- or two friends 😆
You were about to close out of your conversation and change into your own pajamas, but you saw he had already read your message. 
And was already typing back.
When his message came through, it was enough to make your heart do a somersault.
I definitely do. 😍
Part 4
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Text
Through The Years pt. 5 (Bucky Barnes x fem!Stark! Reader)
A/N: feedback is appreciated, as always!
the tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney
the warnings: torture (nothing too intense, but still.), explosions, wounds, captivity, angst, fluff at the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOVEMBER 3RD, 1943.
KRAUSBERG, AUSTRIA. A HYDRA BASE. 
4:00  HOURS. 
“Vake up! Vake up!” Was the first thing you heard when you woke up, laying strapped down on a cold metal table, in a dark room, with a light shoved right in your face. A thick German accent. 
Oh no. 
You tried to open your eyes to the best of your ability, albeit they still hurt and your whole body stung with pain beyond imaginable. “Hurry up!”
A harsh slap to your face.
If this didn’t make you open your eyes, you feared what was next. As you opened them, the light which was once harsh on your face now illuminated a good part of the room. Despite the pain in your neck, you were able to turn your head and see-
Bucky. 
No. You wouldn’t let them hurt him. “Bucky, baby please- are you okay?” you were able to say through tears, feeling a sob on it’s way. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first. It’s as if he’s blanked out on reality, in another world. He then proceeds to snap out of it, turning his head to you. He too is strapped to the table.
He lets out a cough before letting out a relieved breath. “Doll, hey.” he seems to lose his breath for a second. “I won’t let them hurt you, darlin’. I promise.”
“I should be saying that Barne-”
“SILENCE! Project Survival has begun.” the man said. Turning your head as much as the pain allowed you to, you were able to catch a glimpse of him. He was an average height, with some hair on his head and round glasses.
Arnim Zola. The one and only right hand man to Johann Schmidt. You had heard about him before, while in several briefings with Erksine. That was now in the past. He was no longer a name and a photograph. He was a reality. 
Laying your head back once again, you thought of Howard. What would he do without you? Would he be able to rest at night knowing this is how you met your end?
No. You couldn’t. As he said, many more birthdays to celebrate. 
Shifting uncomfortably under your armor and clothes, your breathing picked up and went short as Zola rolled a table between you and Bucky, full of bottles and syringes, scissors and scalpels.
He fills a syringe up with a blue liquid from a bottle. He then proceeds to shine it in the light. “Who shall go virst, hmm? The lady-” he looks at you. “Or ze gentleman?” 
“NO! i won’t let you hurt her. Give it to-” Bucky said, desperately; his eyes darting between you and Zola.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Barnes, I thought you knew better. Ladies first, is that not correct?”
Zola then proceeds to walk over to the end of your table with your head on it, grabbing it by the chin and setting it straight so it won’t move.
“Just a little zomehting, hmm?” a pause. “To enhance that little ability of yours.” 
Bucky’s eyes widen. “W-What ability, sweetheart? What’s he talking about?”
There are no more words from any three of you and Zola plunges the needle into your neck in such a harsh manner, making you scream and causing your whole body to thrash. It causes your whole body to go numb and a pounding headache to arise. 
The last thing you hear before you black out is Bucky yelling a “NO!” and Zola laughing. 
This was going to be a long day. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOVEMBER 3RD, 1943.
KRAUSBERG, AUSTRIA. A HYDRA BASE.
12:00 HOURS. 
You wake up slowly and easily this time, the sunshine on your face. The room was quiet this time. No Zola, no harsh light in your face. Just a numb body and a migraine. 
The straps didn’t hurt anymore, for some reason. 
You turned your head to see Bucky, also waking up from his -chemical- induced sleep. “What’d they do to you, Buck?” He turns his head. The tear marks are evident on his face. He sighs. 
“More like what didn’t they do? I feel awful.”
This brought tears to your eyes. “My feet hurt so much. I can’t feel much else. It’s pretty numb.  Buck. I’m scared.” He stares back at you, tears welling up in his eyes. All he wanted was to keep you safe. If it were up to him, he’d whisk you off to Brooklyn, right now. Maybe you could meet his Ma, Rebecca too. You could be the best of friends.
He would take you dancing, after you’d both reveal the relationship to Howard. He’d be mad at first, but then able to see eye to eye with you. he would dress in his tailored  navy blue suit, only one he had. Oh, and you’d be wearing that stunning sky blue dress you told him about once, with a red lip and victory curls. Absolutely beautiful. 
He thought about it more. He’d pick you up exactly at 9′o’clock, your brother greets him at the door. You’re still getting ready, and Howard reluctantly invites him in. You’d eventually come down the stairs, a little bit out of breath, but stunning nonetheless. Howard is happy, but he’d never show it in front of Bucky.
You’d dance cheek to cheek. He brings you home exactly at 10:30, like Howard instructed demanded. He’d kiss just your cheek, knowing Howard is probably watching, probably holding a bat. Made of wood. Or maybe metal. Or maybe both. You’d go up to your room after saying goodnight. You’d put on a nightgown, and just before putting your hair in rollers you’d hear him climbing up the fire escape to give you a proper kiss, just as Howard walks in with the bat in hand, ready to shoo him off.
It would be perfect, albeit a bit chaotic. But there be peace and no pain, and that’s what mattered. 
The tears stream down his face. “Darlin’, what was he talking about? What ability? Enhance what?”
Your eyes start to tear up as well. “I’m sorry! I was so scared!” You break and before you know it, you’re crying so much it shakes the table. 
“Doll, you don’t have to tell me now-”
“I want to. I should’ve a long time ago. It’s called Telekinesis. I can move objects with my mind, if I focus. But it’s still hard sometimes. I don’t know what he did to me!” 
“Hey, sugar. Oh, my love. It’s alright. We’re going to be just fine, I promise ya. Just close those eyes for me. I’ll still be here when you wake up, alright?”
Nodding, you laid your head back and relaxed, as much as you possibly could. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOVEMBER 3RD, 1943
THE ALLIED POWERS’ BASE, ITALY.
19:00 HOURS. 
The thunder was as loud as gunshots and could probably be heard all the way in Spain. But the rain made the mood all the more bitter as Steve sat drawing in a little sketchbook. 
“Hello Steve.”
Steve, hearing Peggy, turns around. She seems sad, tear marks on her face. “Hi. What are you doing here? Is everything okay, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She quickly wipes her face with her hands. “Officially, I’m not here at all.That was quite the performannce.”
Dodging his head back to the ground, “Yeah. I had to improvise a bit. Most of the crowds are a bit - are a bit more.. twelve-.” He looks back up at her. “But you’re dodging the question. Are you ok?”
“Schmidt sent forces out to Azzano. There were two-hundred men went up against him, led by newly appointed Lieutenant General Y/N Stark. Less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th. The rest where either killed or captured, we don’t know.”
Steve’s heard perks up. “The 107th?”
Both hiding under Peggy’s coat, they ran to General Phillip's tent under the rain. They walk in to a frantic man, talking to the General so fast, he might just run out of words. 
“Captain Andrews, I’ll need you to calm down.” he turns to Peggy and Steve “Ah, the Star-Spangled man with a plan. What’re you up to?”
“I need the casualty list from Azzano. I just need one name-”
“You’re not one to give me orders, son.”
Both men are interrupted by Captain Andrews. “Excuse me sir, my name is Tommy Andrews. I-I’m a Captain, I serve in Lieutenant General Stark’s Company.”
Steve looks at him with a range of emotion on his face. “Hello, Captain. What can you tell me?”
Tommy takes a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “We had just set up camp in Bordeaux, resting up before invading Azzano. It wasn’t time yet. but we were too late, and we were ambushed. The Lieutenant General told me to run away with as many men as I could. Told me to contact General Philips. Both the Lieutenant General and your friend, Sergeant Barnes were captured. I’m sorry.”
Steve shook his head. “There’s no need to be sorry, Captain. You did what was right, following your orders.” he turns to General Phillips. 
“Since when is Stark a Lieutenant General? When did he-”
“She. His sister. Not him, Rogers.”  General Phillips cut him off. 
“But how-. Look. just give me their names. Tell me their alive. B-A-R-N-E-S and S-T-A-R-”
“I’ve signed more condolence letters than I care to count. Her brother is devastated. But Barnes does sound familiar. I’m sorry, son.” 
“General, but what about a rescue mission?”
“They are 30 miles behind enemy lines. In some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. Possibly in the world. We’d lose more men than we’d save. You wouldn’t understand, chorus girl.”
“I understand just fine.”
“Then go understand somewhere else. From what I know, you’ve got somewhere to be in 30 minutes.”
“I do.”
Phillips starts to say something, but Steve already took off, Peggy behind him.
 While he’s putting on a jacket and helmet, Peggy asks “Are you insane?! What’re are you going to do, walk to Austria? And as the General said, they’re probably dead!”
“These are my friends, Peggy!”
“You don’t think I- Y/N’s been my best friend since secondary school. She’s the older sister I always wished I had! It like losing family, Steve!”
Steve walks out of the tent, loading his stuff in the car. “You told me before I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”
There’s a silence as the pair stare into each others eyes. “Every word, Steve. But let me help you.”
~~~~~~~
On the plane, Peggy is showing Steve a map, where he’s supposed to be headed. “The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, between these two mountains.”
“We should be able to drop you off right at their doorstep.” Howard said from the cockpit, in a cold tone. 
“Just get me as close as you can. Howard, how are you holding up?”
“Listen here Rogers. You don’t talk about her, don’t think about her. You didn’t know her like I did.” 
“Sir, with all due respect, she was my friend-”
“WELL SHE WAS MY SISTER! She was all I had left. Now if you don’t bring back her Company and ease that poor Captain Andrews’s soul, I will make sure the rest of your life is miserable.”
There’s a sad silence throughout the plane. Peggy speaks up. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s brave enough to man this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”
Gunshots are heard, and the trio knows they’ve arrived at the destination. Steve approaches the door, ready to jump out. “When I land, you turn this thing around and go back, understood?”
“You can’t give me orders!”
“Like hell I can, I’m Captain!”
~~~~~~~~
NOVEMBER 3RD, 1943.
KRAUSBERG, AUSTRIA. A HYDRA BASE.
20:00 HOURS. 
“Bucky-Bucky, wake up!” you say, trying to get him to open his eyes. He does, but once again stares off into space. Once he hears you crying, he turns his head. “Hi. Are you okay? How much does it hurt, sweetheart?” 
“It’s almost nothing. Something is different, although. I can feel it.” you said, through sobs.
“We’re gonna be alright. You know that, right?”
You take a deep breath and nod. “You think we’re gettin’ out of here?”
“We can only hope.”
You close your eyes and tilt your head back as gunshots are heard outside, and someone running down the corridor. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the narrow corridor, Steve hears a groan and cries from the ‘operating’ room the soldiers had told him about. Looking both ways before going in, he enters the room slowly, with caution. As he pears in further, he sees to people strapped to tables. He make his way closer to them, and there laying there- 
Bucky, Bucky and you.
He walks over to undo the straps on Bucky’s body. “Hey, Hey Buck, it’s me.”
Bucky is able to focus his eyes on Steve “Hey. Steve”. Laying a hand on his shoulder, Steve whispered “I thought you were dead.”
“And I thought you were smaller. Please, I need to help her, Stevie. She’s hurting.”
Realizing who he’s talking about, he walks over to you, laying conscious on the table and undoing the straps. You come to and turn to see Steve and Bucky. 
The crackle on gunshots is heard outside. The three of you flinch.
You are able to support yourself a bit better now. “Steve, hi. How are you doing? You ok?”
“Stark, I should be the one asking you that. Let’s get out of here.”
“Stevie, how do you two know each other? What happened to you?”
“I joined the army, all thanks to her and her Howard Stark.”
 “You’ll have to tell me about it later.. Did it hurt? Is it permanent?”
“Only a little Buck. And yes, permanent so far. I hope it is.”
Coming from outside, the three of you hear an explosion, causing the three of you two walk down the hallway as quick as possible. You make it to the bridge above the power plants, and the three of you climb to the top, hoping to find an escape route, and quickly. 
But like everything else today, it didn’t go as planned, as a thick German accent cut through the air. “Captain America! How exciting! I am a great fan of your films!” Schmidt said, being followed by Zola. 
You whimper in fear, and as Bucky hears this, quickly tucks you into his side, stroking your hair in an attempt to calm you down.  “Y/N Stark! I am a very very big fan of your work! Hydra would be blessed to have someone like you.”
Schmidt turns to Steve again. “So, looks like Dr. Erksine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but impressive. I have to give it to him.”
Steve then proceeds to wack Schmidt across the face with his shield, which results in him knocking Steve back with a swift punch. Now on opposite sides of the bridge, Zola pushed a button that made both sides seperate from one another. 
“You see, no matter what lies Erksine told you-”
You cling to Bucky in fear. 
“I was his greatest success!” Schmidt then proceeds to take the skin off his face, to reveal a new, bald, red skull. “You pretend to be a simple soldier, Captain. But you refuse to admit that we’ve left humanity behind! Unlike you, I choose to embrace it proudly. Without fear!” Zola and Schmidt then proceed to go into an elevator, that carried them far away from the two of you. 
There are more explosions from below, and Steve leads you both to climb another set of stairs. On this bridge, you encounter a narrow beam made of iron. The only thing separating you from the other side. “Okay one at a time.” 
Steve looks between the two of you. “Y/N you first, please.” You shake your head. “I’ll be able to make it anyways. I have the serum. It’s in my blood.”
“That’s a story for another time. Bucky, i guess it’s you then.”
“No! I can’t just cross to the other side and leave here here!”
“Bucky, please just do it! I’ll be fine.” He proceeds to give you a quick peck on the lips and Steve helps him mount the beam. The beam creaks and falls down as he walks, but luckily he jumps just in time. 
“Go on Buck! Get out of here!” you yell.
“No! Not without you guys!”
You back up to the side as Steve makes a brave jump across the bridge. That only leaves you on the platform. “C’mon! You can do it! I Know you can!” 
Taking a deep breath, you unbutton your uniform coat, revealing the chest plate of your armor. Whipping out  a sword, you throw it to the other side and jump.
The sword catches you in mid air, as one hand stuck to the railing. Steve and Bucky help you up.
“Let’s get out of here, boys.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NOVEMBER 4TH, 1943
THE ALLIED POWERS’ BASE, ITALY. 
9:00 HOURS.
“I took a chance on you, Agent Carter. Now not only is America’s golden boy dead, but my Lieutenant General too. All because you had a crush.” General Phillips said. 
“It wasn’t that, General. I believed in him.”
“I hope it’s a comfort to you when they shut this division down, Agent.” 
Outside, there were a bunch of soldiers running. Not from, but to. “What in the hell is going on out there?” General Philips seemed to ask himself, as he made his way outside, Peggy following him. 
There marching right beside Steve, were you and Bucky. The 107th had gone through hell, and made it back alive. Soldiers started cheering and clapping, approaching the group. There was even one who exclaimed “Look who it is!”
Howard hears all the commotion from his tent and goes outside to see what’s going on. He stands behind Peggy, hoping to catch a glimpse of what caused so much ruckus in the once silent base. It couldn’t be. You were supposed to be dead. 
“General Philips, these men need medical attention.” said Steve, as you and Bucky stood at his side. Your turn to Bucky. “Told you we’d make it out, darlin’?” 
“Maybe I should trust you more, Buck. Thank you.” You said as he locked his eyes with your own, wrapping his arm around you. “You better. I plan on having you around for a long time, sweetheart.”
“Really, now? I sure hope so, Buck. You’re my person.”
A smirk makes it’s way onto his face. “I’m your person? Well, then. I ain’t planning to let you go forever plus a day. I’m so happy to have you.”
“You better do something about it, wise-guy. I see Colonel Johnson eyeing me from the tactical tent-”
Before you can finish your sentence, he swoops you up, pulling you into a deep kiss as he lifts you off the ground and gives you a small spin. 
“Barnes you are someth-” 
“Y/N!” you and Bucky immediately pulled away from each other, and you turned to see Howard right in front of you. “Y/N! oh my god!”
You start to fiddle with the buttons on your uniform. “Howard! I’m sorry you had to find out like this-”
“Nonsense! I’m just glad your home. Even if it involved getting with- him” Howard said, making a hand gesture towards Bucky, who was behind you, cowering in fear. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Howwie. I hate to make  you worry.”
“Well, I also hate that you make me worried, but it isin’t your fault” You pull away from Howard’s hug and Bucky holds out his hand.
“I’d like to formally introduce myself, Mr. Stark. You haven’t let me introduce myself. My names James Buchanan Barnes, sir. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, without you threatening to fight me.”
Howard, hesitantly holding his hand out, “The pleasure is all mine, James. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. All I want is to see my sister happy. Which, you obviously do so- maybe I won’t chase you with a bat.”
“Howard!”
He lets out a laugh. “I only want the best for you, you know that. Now, I’m pretty sure Phillips wants you to give a debriefing.”
You nod. “See you later, Buck?”
“You know it, darlin’” he walks off.
“He loves you, you know. You can tell from his eyes. You’ll always be able to tell from someone’s eyes, sis.”
“What would you know? I be t you don’t even remember that one girl’s name!” you said, crossing your arms. 
“Of course I remember. Maria, from New Haven. moved here to learn how to play piano. You’ve got to meet her sometime.” 
“I hope so. Give her the sibling talk?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Watch me.” you said, walking away. 
“Wait-wait. This conversation isn't over!” he chases after you.
~~~~~~~~~~~
This was a long one, good god. anyways i spent an entire day on it so please show it some love. <3
- Talya
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currentfandomkick · 4 years
Text
Miraculous and the Batboys - Week 3
So i am back(ish) and I bring the Update. Editting is for those with patience and time that i lack. ao3 link HERE
--
A weekend dodging Gina was… eventful. Even moreso when celebrating ‘No More Gabriel Brand’ time was cut short by a barrage of akuma.
All weekend.
Marinette is convinced the man has too much free time.
She would admit (ONLY when no one else was around) that having someone else checking info during battles was nice. Out of the visiting bats, she had come to rank them from least to most irksome: Red Robin (most helpful), Nightwing (helpful), Red Hood (… he was slightly less annoying—he seems to understand she is the leader of the team) then Robin (who can’t get that she knows what she’s doing, AND hurts the minions more than necessary).
Okay, maybe she’s holding a grudge from when they first met (Tikki enjoyed reminding her of that new found habit—grudge holding) but you don’t go around calling a bunch of magic jewelry powered superheroes incompetent before finding out what they’re fighting and how they have to fight!
And yes, this is a hill she will die on.
Chloe and Adrien are in full agreement, well, Queen Bee and Chat Noir are.
“Are you sure we can’t just…” Chat gestured with his eyes to where Robin was perched at the edge, “just a little?”
Marinette didn’t answer him. She turned to Queen Bee. “You need to influence chaton less.”
“Never.”
--
Tim almost collapsed when he saw Marinette on her own. Why?
Because he was Certain that he saw a, a red thing—creature? Poke something out of her purse.
Red was Ladybug’s color. Yep. She’s. Yep—mini Red Robin hard since he’s pretty sure she’s avoiding someone too.
She was too—he knew for a fact she’s avoiding Gina excellently (either hiding at the hotel with Chloe, the teashop or one Adrien Agreste and his… legal cousin but Tim is certain there is something off about that with the Holy Doopleganger Batman! Vibe he got from checking out the pair’s apartment. He now had a fun thing to look into when he’s bored and tired of Hawkmoth Shenanigans).
She’s also… yep. Dodging a bunch of teens he’s certain are her classmates.
And… Damnit demon spawn!
--
Marinette managed to disentangle herself from class parkour (miraculous training as civvies) when she got a text from Damian.
Apparently he wanted to ask how she was handling the whole… Thing with Bustier and Lila.
She wonders if he’s dealt with bullying too, and was looking for advice. She was certain hers was crap, but she did say she’d be around so…
She met up with Damian not too far from the park at a café, nothing fancy, and waited for him to start once they’d placed their orders.
“I know it is a personal matter and not my place to ask, however I would like to know how you have managed to endure the repugnant behavior of our teacher and the harlot.”
Marinette forgot she should think before responding.
“Pretty sure whores and sex workers are paid. She’s more con artist for attention than anything else.”
She missed Damian’s response as the waiter put down their drinks and raised an eyebrow at them.
“Remember the girl that framed me a while back and tried to expel me the first Scarlet Moth round?”
“Ah.” The waiter turned to Damian then. “Don’t insult whore by putting them in with that, well, work and I see my boss so I can’t say what I want again, but we both know what she is, and whores are no where near that level. Politicians, most, whores? No.”
Marinette snorted into her drink as they left.
“And to answer your question, well, I don’t really have a choice.”
Damian narrowed his eyes at that.
Marinette could feel his eyes on her, but couldn’t meet their gaze with this topic. (It still hurt, even though it’s a been years since it began.)
“Lila had everyone charmed or uncertain if she was lying until two weeks ago. Bustier said I had to be a good example and class representative putting that above everything else in my life. Even though everyone knows I’ve been helping run three different businesses on top of handling my program and own business and clientele, and help take care of Fu with a few other small business kids. Nothing could come before the class’s harmony—nothing.”
Marinette took a small bite of her pastry.
“So I saw someone who could force her to listen or have to deal with actively and knowingly violating anti-akuma laws—something she’s only managed to narrowly avoid since, well,” Marinette gestured to herself. “I got tired of constant akumas in class and managed to convince the school board as my last act as class rep to require daily and weekly mental health checks and mitigate potential akuma triggers during weekly checks, daily being more ‘answer these questions honestly’ for stress levels. The system flags major changes, and the students affected see one of the counselors immediately to find ways around what’s bothering them.”
Marinette missed Damian staring at her for that, or how his mouth opened ever so slightly.
“When I stepped down, everyone noticed I wasn’t comfortable alone with Bustier, so it became a rule to stop it whenever they could. The other classes are field specialty and ours is the only one for people doing more than one program or close to.”
Marinette looked up at that with a  smile. “Fashion is my official program, but since I do so much business outside of school, I kept having to take classes to help out early on. I never enrolled in the program officially like Chloe did, but the school has me credited as able to graduate with both programs, so until they can justify opening another multi-program class, I’m not allowed to transfer out of the class and stay in Dupont.”
Her eyes hardened when she said, “And I’m not letting a liar and a Bustier be the reason I left the only school that’s willing to go as far as they have for me program-wise—especially not when I only have a year left.”
Damian nodded at that, deciding he’d have to sic Drake on the harlot either way… perhaps Todd and Gina too. He was feeling spiteful.
--
Marinette decided that when she meets Hawkmoth, she is not only punching him in the face, she is going to do, she doesn’t know exactly what (Tikki has a few ideas that Marinette is certain involve torture) but it will hurt.
Why?
Third akuma on a Sunday. THIRD! What is this man not doing that he was before? She wants to know since whoever freed up his time is on her list now.
Robin was being less annoying (re: tracking the akuma and leaving the minions less battered than usual) while Red Robin was helping the police evacuate affected areas with Nightwing. Somehow Red Hood got it in his head to stick with Chat for “on the job training” her team is trained asshole and she is debating how far she should go when they finish off Hawkmoth for good.
--
Monday was… interesting. The emancipation was approved—Adrien Agreste legally required no legal guardian.
When Gabriel tried to fire Gorilla, well, Adrien pointed out Gorilla had been in Adrien’s employ this whole time as mother hired and paid him from her accounts. Which transferred to Adrien when she was declared dead.
Marinette dreaded the akuma Hawkmoth might cook up using Gabriel. How he wasn’t akumatized again was anyone’s guess.
Class was…
“So last night Damiboo said—“
Marinette put her head on her desk, and decided to raise an eyebrow at a… for some reason ill-looking Damian.
“Is it because you guys share a name?”
Damian blinked.
Adrien turned around then. “Or because someone has commitment issues.”
Marinette squinted at Adrien because… “What?”
Nino sighed. “Adrien is on another MatchMaker spree.”
“ah. Who are the victims?”
“Not touching it dudette, not touching it.”
Marinette snorted. “It’s not like he’s going to match anyone with well,” Marinette gestured at herself.
“Your infamous army.”
“They are not an army.”
“How many ‘relatives’?” Nino used air quotes.
Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Well under a hundred thousand, so not an army.”
“I am counting the fans.”
Marinette scoffed. “They do not count.”
“They do, and I’m pretty sure Adrien’s fan girl army is applicable.”
“Okay, just because they made up titles and help out during akuma evacs does not make them an army—they’d need weapons training, clear chain of command, coded strategies—”
“And the fact you know this only proves my point, you have an army.”
“Who has an army?” Chloe asked as she walked over.
“Marinette.”
“I do not!”
“You do,” Chloe agreed. “Kim!” the boy looked over at that. “Marinette’s ‘family’ is a small army.”
“I, yes?” Kim’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Any one that picked her up had how many knives on them when we were kids?”
Damian turned to her with a suspicious eye.
She blushed. “Nonna’s friends.”
Damian nodded slowly.
Marinette wondered if the earth could just… swallow her up now.
--
The rest of the week was in a similar vein. Constant attacks, the batboys helping, her class being weirdly fixated on her family (they aren’t violent, just… prepared.)
Her gymnastics classes were a godsend, and her instructor was checking up on her more than usual, but that might be her more or less running her own classes and lessons as she worked out her routine, music choice, and requirements for her teammates and partners for her routines on trapeze.
Tim was around more. He got it in his head that she needed “guidance” (and okay, she does) on how to conduct corruption investigations into the whole company’s practices and staff.
Then there was Damian being… distant? She was busy but they weren’t talking as much as they were at first and fine, whatever, she got it. She’s not someone he wants to be around…. It happens.
It just… hurts a little is all.
At least she had Adrien and less secrets there. He was fixated on Damian having “commitment issues” and she thinks he’s trying to set him up with someone (Chloe maybe? Why else would he be this focused…. It’d be interesting explaining she’s pretty sure Chloe like girls better than boys and that Damian isn’t her type. At a later date—she’s too busy to now).
Then she had chores and was called in for a hearing on Bustier which was… interesting…. (her duties weren’t too bad for class president. she wasn’t making lesson plans or anything. The role model and forgiving everyone for hurting her and being told to let Lila walk all over her for years was not okay at all, but any teacher would have said that, right?)
Oh and Gina was now convinced Marinette needed protection and now semi-stalking her (Jason was weirdly close to Jason now and talking to him a lot). So random Grandma Attacks when she wanted to draw in Peace.
Lord Murder was her best stress buddy, and Gina is now well acquainted her. She was also given Gina’s Seal of Approval to take over her house for the purposes of keeping Lord Murder and staying there once her current tenants were out (no seeing it until then… unfortunately. She did get dimensions for cat things though. she may browse a bit obsessively… only a bit.)
--
Tim froze when he ran into Jason with Civilian Chat Noir. And a giant man (Gorilla). At their base. Playing videogames.
“Hey Tim, this is Adrien, Adrien, Tim. Adrien is your mini’s buddy and this is the guy that keeps the harpies away, Gorilla—yes he refuses to tell me his real name—and they’re family now. B can suck it.”
Adrien waved at him before turning back to the game. “I have no idea why he keeps saying that.”
Tim took a deep breath. Apparently adopting strays was just another Bat-thing. “So its nurture, not nature.”
Damian came out, sighed when he saw the group still there, and took a drink into his room while saying. “I did not adopt him.”
Adrien looked back at him then. “You have too many commitment issues to. Don’t worry, though, I’m good at destroying pesky problems like that.”
Tim blinked at that.
Damian sighed as they had this conversation too often now. At school and apparently, his home now. “I am not going to—”
“That’s just your fear talking—we both know that.” Adrien spoke like he was talking to a petulant child. “Why don’t you text your friends and see what they think since I already know the answer and you need more convincing.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Jon thinks you are annoying.”
“I’m a delight.” Adrien turned back to his game then.
Jason grinned proudly next to him. A bit too much like a proud parent for Tim’s comfort. (He may also be realizing his keep-his-mini-from-Damian-dating may end up in vain thanks to one Adrien Agreste(?))
--
Dick sent Bruce exactly (1) update: You are a grandpa now—Jason has a blond cat-hero son who can’t dodge.
Bruce may have had a small heart attack as now he has a magic grandson that he never met, apparently controls raw destruction, and is deeply traumatized. (It was the grandpa part that freaked him out—the rest is par for the course as Batman. He’s a Grandpa Alfred—he’s too young for his children to pull a him and adopt tiny traumatized children and train them into (heroes) vigilantes. Alfred stop laughing, he’s being serious!)
-------------
HEY so thanks for patience with the updates as life is Extra Hell now between puppy training when i'm finally home and work being Extra Hell with longer shifts and more to do during.
And before anyone asks about the peacock!marinette thing, look at the two series I have going with Bronywn as those are ongoing as my stress writes.
Any preferences for next update? Open to ideas as my mind is too stressed to do more than work off a prompt of some kind for the time being, and next to none of this story has been planned so far, so ideas are very welcome to keep it moving forward.
--
@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron @tired-butterfly @multplelifes @yin-390 @area51qt @toodaloo-kangaroo @bzz75 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @freshbark @soup-served-chilling @daminett4life @smolplantmum @karategirl119 @goblinwhoships @melicmusicmagic @maribat-is-lifeblood @spartanxhunterx @maribat-is-lifeblood @toodaloo-kangaroo
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marjorie189 · 3 years
Text
Chapter 10
Y/N POV
*In Vlog*
*Sitting in Vanity* *Facing Camera to the Mirror in Vanity*
Y/N: Hey guys! Welcome to today's vlog! Hope you all are having a wonderful day *spins around in chair
*Adjusts camera to the mirror, showing herself*
Y/N: For today, were have a GIRLS DAY!! *Adds celebration music to the video* Wooohhhoooo!! 
*giggles at her weirdness*
Y/N: Anyways..Tessa, Bethany, Jazzy and I are having a girls day!! And we invited one of our special friends to accompany us! She's one of my closest friends! I'll give you a few seconds to guess! *Stares blankly at the camera* *Adds tick tock noises to the video*
Y/N: Did y'all guess it? THE ONE AND ONLY ALISSA VIOLET, EVERYBODY! *Motions for her to come into the frame* Just kidding guys she's not here, yet! We're gonna head to the clout house and pick her up!
Y/N: So right now I'm just waiting for the other girls to finish up. I think Jazzy is ready? I think we're just waiting on Bethany and Tessa! But we're not running late because the boys aren't coming *laughs*
Y/N: But if you guys are interested in my outfit *Grabs camera and starts walking to the huge mirror in the closet* Here's my outfit!! I think it's really cute! It's a Louis Vuitton Tube Top *zooms into the tube top* I paired the Louis Vuitton tube top with a pair of rose gold Adidas joggers *Puts one of her knees to the ground and shows the joggers through the mirror*
Outfit:
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*I was posing in front of the mirror showing off my outfit on the vlog when the Jazzy, Bethany and Tessa came into the closet looking for me*
Tessa: Oooo Y/N!
Y/N: *Laughs* Come on!
*Jazzy, Tessa, and Bethany starting posing in the mirror showing their outfits to the vlog*
Y/N: you guys look so pretty and can I just say sexy!!!  
Jazzy Outfit:
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Bethany Outfit:
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Tessa Outfit: 
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Y/N: See you guys in a few!!
All girls: Bye!! *Covers camera*
*Off Vlog*
"You all look gorgeous!" I say looking at the girls.
They all giggled.
"Thank you!" Bethany said. "You look amazing!"
"You look hot!" Tessa giggled.
I blushed. "Oh stop!" I say.
"We should start heading out." Jazzy says looking at the time.
"Yes mom." Bethany says as we all giggle. We all started heading towards my Range Rover after we said bye to the boys.
Tessa sat in the passenger seat next to me, Jazzy and Bethany sat in the back seats.
I started driving out of Calabasas towards the Hollywood Hills.
Tessa got my vlogging camera and started vlogging.
"Hi I'm Y/N! And we're driving to The CloutHouse to pick up Alissa Violet, for a GIRLS DAY!!" Tessa says giggling imitating me.
"I don't sound like that!" I say from Tessa's tone.
Tessa and the girls started laughing.
I rolled my eyes, pulling up to the hill where the clouthouse is.
I parked in front of their huge house, and we all got off.
Tessa gave me my camera to vlog, and we walked into their house.
We tiptoed up the stairs quietly, hopefully not getting caught.
"1"
"2"
"3"
The girls and I whispered to each other, holding in our laughter.
"CAN I GET A HOOOYYAAHHH!" We yelled. Our yells traveling around their spacious home.
Out of nowhere the master bedroom door flew open with an Alissa Violet.
"HOOOYYYAAHHH!!" Alissa yelled.
"HOYYAHHH!" I yelled happily at the sight of Alissa.
She ran into my arms.
I giggled hugging her.
"Oh no!" Rice said in a disgusted voice, vlogging me.
I glared at him, rolling my eyes, playing along to his game.
He rolled his eyes walking away.
He turned around and started walking towards me.
"Nahhh! That's my girl!" Rice said vlogging me.
"Ayyy!" I said giggling into Rice camera.
"Heyy! Stop using my friends for views rice!" Alissa said pulling me away from rice, for the camera.
I laughed as Rice started vlogging the other girls.
"Lisssa! I missed you you look so pretty!!" I said engulfing her into a hug, looking at her outfit.
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"Don't dodge the topic here!! You met the love of your life, Shawn!! You always talked about him and now you're going on tour with him!" Alissa said happily.
I blushed putting my phone down on their kitchen island.
"I know! I wish you could've met him last night in the party! I really wish you guys could've gone!" I said sadly.
"I know and I'm sorry! I wish I could've gone too, you know I love you and support you but just seeing him and his possy brings back memories and you know problems would erupt with Cloutgang and Team 10. And that night was for you not for our problems. And if that meant for us to not go, then I 100% wouldn't go because that night was for you!" Alissa said.
I smiled, "Thank you! But I still wish you could've gone. But you'll meet him soon I promise! He's so sweet and cute. He's amazing!" I say regarding Shawn.
"Awww! Is Y/N in lovveee?" Banks said from behind me.
"Rickyy!" I say turning around hugging him.
Ricky laughed and hugged me back.
"I think she is in love!" Faze Adapt said looking at my phone. Alex (Faze Adapt) picked it up.
"Ooooo! Shawn's facetiming her!!" Rice said looking at my phone.
"Heyyy!!" I said and snatched my phone from them.
Alissa was vlogging the whole thing.
"I'm gonna go attend to my call in your amazing movie theatre!" I say running to their movie theatre, not wanting to miss Shawn's call.
I closed the doors hoping that they wouldn't come in.
I answered Shawn's FaceTime.
"Hey Shawn!" I say into the camera.
"Hey Y/N!" Shawn said smiling cutely.
I smiled, I could feel my cheeks warming up.
"So what's up?" I asked.
"Nothing really. I just wanted to say that I had a fun time last night! Meeting your family and friends, despite the fact that I was really nervous. I feel like we connected!" Shawn said, his eyes glowing.
"I had a fun time too! I'm sure my family loved you! And we have only known each other for a days, imagine how it'll be when we known each other for a few months." I says smiling.
I saw Shawn and his eyes were squinting. As if he was trying to see something.
I turn around and saw the doors slightly open. I could see all of them trying to listen to Shawn and I's conversation.
I rolled my eyes annoyingly and Shawn giggled.
"Hey! It's fine really! If you want we can talk later." Shawn said.
I frowned into the camera wanting to keep on talking to Shawn.
"Ok! Talk to you later muffin boy!" I say.
He laughed.
"Bye love!" He said and ended the call.
"You guys!!" I huffed pulling open the door.
"Ohhhhh he called you his love!!!!" Alissa teased.
"Bbbyyeee mufffinnnboyy!" Rice teased.
I blushed.
Tessa laughed.
"Y/N in loovvvee!" Ricky said.
I rolled my eyes.
"He's my friend!" I say laughing.
"Yeah ok!" Ricky said.
-
The girls and I just finished eating breakfast in a cafe near Beverly Hills.
"I can't wait for the massages!" Jazzy said as we walked towards my car.
The girls all sigh in agreement.
I drove off to the spa where we would all be treated with facials, face masks, massages, and hair treatments.
We all bopped to It's Every Night Sis.
Once the song was finished we all laughed and overall had a great car ride.
I parked in the spas parking lot and all the girls got out.
We walked into the spa and the receptionist greeted us with huge smiles.
"Y/N!" She said.
"Hi Lily how are you?" I asked hugging her.
Lily's the owner of the whole place and we have a partnership.
I shout out their place on social media to bring in new clients and I have free appointments for facials, massages, etc and I can invite anyone I want for free.
Today I invited the girls for a free glam up, even if they don't need it cause they look beautiful but it's great for relaxation.
I introduced them to Tessa, Bethany, Jazzy, and Alissa.
"Well girls a few of my employees are gonna work with you girls today! Right now they're setting up the facial room for you all. So get yourself comfortable." Lily said leading us to some couches.
"I'll be back and bring you some water." Lily said walking away.
"It's a cute place." Bethany said looking around.
"Yeah I need some relaxation!" Alissa said.
"You sleep all day with Paris and London!" I say to her, laughing.
She rolled her eyes and Lily came with a pitch of cold water.
"Here girls!" She said passing us cups to serve water.
We all thanked her sipping water.
"Let me go check if you're room is ready!" Lily said walking toward the facial room.
A few minutes later she came out and led us to the room.
The room was large. It had 5 beds for each of us to lay on and all the face masks and everything to exfoliate the skin.
Lily handed us each towels to undress ourselves.
"You girls can lay down and a few workers will come to work on your skin!" Lily said smiling making sure we were comfy.
Once I undressed myself I wrapped the towel around myself and laid on the bed.
The other girls did the same and we waited for the workers to come.
5 facialists came and they introduced themselves and gladly started working on exfoliating our skin.
The one that was working on me grabbed a makeup removing wipe and starting wiping my makeup off.
Their was relaxing music in the background making me shut my eyes.
The lady then started putting steam on my face to help with the process, meanwhile she massages my ears.
I relaxed my shoulders with the pleasure of my ear massage.
She started adding a face mask that stung a little.
-
After the facial the ladies then started with massages.
I was faced down on the bed and my hair was up in bun.
Her fingers danced on my shoulders, doing magic.
The girls enjoyed being able to relax and get away from social media. Even if it was only for a few hours.
The massage was so relaxing that I took a nap.
-
"I honestly feel like I could fly!" Alissa said with her arms up in the air, from how relaxed she was from the massage.
Tessa laughed loudly.
"You're welcome." I giggled opening my car.
Right now the girls and I were headed to the nail salon. We're all gonna get manicures and pedicures.
I was looking at all the nail polish variations, while the girls and I were waiting for our turn.
I sat down and started looking for nails on Pinterest.
"Oh those look cute!" Alissa said looking at my phone.
"They are!" I say analyzing them.
"You should do those!" Bethany said agreeing with Alissa.
Once it was our turn to do our nails I showed the manicurist the picture.
"Can you do these?" I asked kindly.
"Yeah of course!" The manicurist responded. "My daughter loves you!"
"Really!?" I asked.
"Yeah she loves all of you." She said signaling to the girls. "Especially Froy and the Martinez Twins." She laughed putting on the acrylic nails.
"Aww that's adorable!" I giggled. "So you want to come out in my vlog? And then she can see you in there!" I say brilliantly.
"Yes! She will freak out." She said.
I laughed and took my camera out, facing it to the manicurist.
"Hi (fans name)." Her mom said.
"Hi (fans name)! You and your mom are amazing!" I say giggling into the camera.
I turned off my camera and continued talking to the mother of my fan, the manicurist.
"What's her Instagram? I'd love to follow her!" I say.
"Oh! Thank you! She's going to freak out." She says giving me her Instagram username.
"She's loves you and Shawn! She's always saying that she ships you guys!" She says.
I blushed. "Aww She is a true fan!"
She laughs. "Well it's gonna be $45.00." The manicurist said standing up.
"Thank you! They look great!" I say looking at the nails.
The manicurist went up to the receptionist's desk. I looked at the rest of the girls nails.
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I paid the manicurist and tipped her $100.
"Here." The manicurist said giving me the hundred dollar bill back. She thought I accidentally slipped it in.
"Oh no it's for you. That's your tip. Give you and your daughter a treat. On me!" I smiled.
"Oh thank you Y/N!" She said hugging me.
"When you wanna do your nails again come here. I'll treat you!" She says.
"Oh no really it's ok!" I say and hugging her goodbye.
Once we were in the car we decided to go for lunch.
"I'm starving!" Tessa exclaimed.
I laughed and drove off to In-N-Out.
"We're home!" I say as I parked in the In-N-Out parking lot.
Tessa laughed and got off of the Range Rover.
We all went inside of Los Angeles's best restaurant.
We waited in their somewhat big line, and waited for our turn to order. Meanwhile we took pictures with fans.
"What can I get you girls today?" The cashier said.
"Can I get a double double burger, with fries, and a coke please!" I say cheerfully.
"Onion on the burger?" The cashier said as she put everything into the order.
"Umm no thank you!" I say smiling.
The other girls ordered and we paid. They gave us our number and we found a table outside.
A few other fans came up to us and we gladly took pictures with them.
They finally called our order after 20 minutes and we went to get our orders.
I sat down with my tray of food and one of the girls snapped a picture of me.
"Heyyy??!" I say and noticed it was Jazzy.
"You look really cute!" Bethany said as she looked at the photo.
"It's Instagram worthy!" Alissa said handing me the phone.
"Oh god! It somehow does look good!" I laughed as I bit into my burger.
"You have to post it." Tessa said dipping her fry into ketchup.
I rolled my eyes and continued eating.
"Gosh women let me eat! I'll post it in a bit." I laughed.
I sipped on my drink and posted the picture onto Instagram.
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"Wow! You already have 500,000 likes and it hasn't been a minute since you posted it!" Bethany said.  
"Check your comment section!" Alissa said laughing.
"What?" I asked.
I looked at the comment section and saw Shawn's comment.
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"Just date already!" Tessa said.
"It hasn't even been a week that we've met!" I said taking the last few bites of my burger.
"Hmmm ok!" Jazzy says sarcastically.
I just rolled my eyes and giggled.
I started cleaning up and threw the trash away.
Shawn was so adorable! He's so cute and sweet!
The girls and I decided to go shopping at Rodeo Drive.
We waved bye to the fans from In-N-Out and drove off to Rodeo Drive.
As I was driving I liked Shawn's comment.
All the fans were going crazy. I'm sure YouTube news are already covering it and making a huge deal out of it.
I then parked in the streets of Rodeo Drive.
"Gucci first!!" Tessa and Alissa said as they exited the car.
I rolled my eyes and followed them inside.
All the girls were all around the Gucci store.
I looked around through all the clothes. Let's just say I wasted a lot of money in my Gucci shopping spree.
I got a couple sweatshirts, handbags, backpacks, heels, sneakers, and slides.
All the girls came out of Gucci with a few bags each.
We then went off to shop at Louis Vuitton.
"Y/N! I ended getting the matching sweatshirt from Gucci!" Alissa said.
"Yay! Now we can twin!" I laughed as we walked into Louis Vuitton.
I walked toward the sneakers, and a certain pair of shoes caught my eye.
I got my size and continued looking throughout the store.
I ended getting a wallet, sneakers, and handbags.
We went to a few other stores like Givenchy and Saint Laurent.
Items Y/N bought:
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"The Range Rover is going to be packed of bags!" Bethany said.
"Yup! I don't know how we're all going to fit!" I laughed
"We'll make it fit!" Jazzy says gasping from how heavy her bags were.
I laughed and opened up the trunk of the Range Rover. We all stuffed out bags carefully to the back.
"We can head to my house if you'd like?" I asked Alissa since she doesn't live with us.
"Sure!" She said texting Ricky. "We should go to a party! Just us girls!"
"Sounds like fun!" Jazzy says.
"I'm down!" I say looking at the road.
"Party it is!" Tessa said.
"We can all dress up and show up like bosses!" Bethany said cutely.
Tessa laughed loudly, which made me giggle.
Sounds like a plan
-
"Alright Y/N! We're ready for you to come out!" One of the girls yelled from my room wanting me to come out.
At the moment I was in my master bathroom. I was dressed up in a revealing black dress.
"Ok?" I say coming out of the bathroom.
I saw all the girls mouth open.
"Y/N!!" Alissa gasped.
"Yeah I know! I should probably go change." I say turning around to try on another dress for the millionth time.
"No!" Jazzy yelled.
"This is the dress!" Bethany said.
"You look amazing. It shows off your curves perfectly!" Tessa said spinning me.
I laughed, my confidence kicking in once I looked at myself in the mirror.
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"Here! Use this bag." Alissa said taking a black Saint Laurent handbag from my closet. "It'll match with your dress!"
"Finally! Let's go?" Bethany said desperately.
I giggled and put on my heels.
I looked at my finished look.
Makeup:
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Choose Lip Color: *Comment which one you choose!*
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Hair:
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The girls and I took took a few pictures before we headed out to the party.
Girls Dresses:
Tessa:
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Alissa:
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Jazzy:
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Bethany: 
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"Wait it's a house party?" Bethany asked.
"Yeah. It's these guys they're having a party or something." Tessa said.
"So we're just gonna crash their party?" I laughed.
"Prettymuch!" Tessa laughed. [*hint hint* *wink wink*]
"Hey let's go." Jazzy said. "The chauffeur just sent me a message. The Escalade is ready."
I got my Saint Laurent handbag and the girls started heading downstairs.
Tessa gave the address to the chauffeur and we got in the SUV.
"Do you know anything about these boys?" Jazzy asked Tessa.
"I think they're like a boy band?" Tessa said.
At the moment I was texting Shawn, I wasn't listening to the girls.
They were saying something about the guys who are throwing the party.
My phone buzzed, notifying me that Shawn sent me another text.
"Hey! They're kinda cute!" Bethany said looking at photos of the guys.
I rolled my eyes at the girls and opened up Shawn's message.
Have fun! Be safe and no drinking
I rolled my eyes and giggled.
I answered back:
Shawn it's L.A. everyone drinks
He responded right away sending me one right after the other.
Next time you go to a party I'm going to take care of you.
The only reason I'm not offering to come is because it's a girls day.
I laughed and sent him the last message before the party.
Ok dad. Whatever you say........
I laughed and put my phone in my bag.
"Yeah I think they're like Simon Cowell's new boy band!" Tessa said to the girls.
"Are you guys still talking about the guys who are throwing the party?" I asked rolling my eyes.
"Yeah! They're kinda cute!" Jazzy said.
"Oh god!" I laughed looking out the window.
"I ship Y/N with Zion. He's so tall and Y/N is so short compared to him. They'd look cute!" Alissa said laughing.
"Oh god! You guys already know their names?" I asked.
"Yes! We need to get you a man!" Alissa said. The girls were looking at the guys to see who they ship me with.
"No, I ship her with Brandon! He seems nice." Jazzy said to the girls.
"Ok! I don't know who Brandon and Zion are so stop shipping me with with random guys!" I sassily said.
"What about Edwin? They're both Hispanic!" Tessa laughed.
"If you guys keep on talking about these guys I will punch you guys and not go to this party!" I laughed.
"Alright, Alright! We'll stop!" Bethany laughed.
"For now!" Jazzy smirked.
I rolled my eyes.
The chauffeur opened the doors and we came out.
All the girls and I walked into the house where the party was being held. Loud music was blaring through the house. There was a lot of people everywhere.
We walked inside the house. There was people everywhere, it was so cramped in there.
We kept on walking straight until we hit the kitchen.
"It's so packed in here!" I yelled to the girls over the loud music.
The girls nodded and handed me a drink.
I smelt the drink. "Yep definitely alcoholic." I said to myself.
I sipped some and got some chips from a container.
"Of course you would get chips." Jazzy yelled over the music.
"Umm Yeah! I like chips." I say taking another one.
She rolled her eyes.
"Oh my gosh!! Look there's Austin!" Tessa yelled pointing at him.
I glared at her and slapped her hand.
"Y/N! Go say hi!" Alissa said pushing me.
"What no!" I scoffed. "I don't even know these guys. You guys somehow are obsessed with them." I say sipping the drink.
"Y/N! Go say hi to your mans!" Bethany said.
"Ok so I'm gonna go now!" I say started to walk away from them.
"No! We're joking." Jazzy said pulling me back.
This so called Austin guy came into the kitchen where the girls and I were.
The girls smiled at him, which caught his attention.
I mentally facepalmed myself.
"Are you girls enjoying the party?" Austin asked.
"Yeah! It's great." Jazzy said smirking at me.
I glared at her.
Austin looked at me. I smiled.
"Well if you guys need anything just ask for me. I'm Austin." He said smiling.
"Thank you!" Bethany said.
He walked away and I immediately glared at the girls.
"Y/N!! Loosen up a little." Alissa said handing me another drink.
"I'm fine! You guys are so annoying. Talking about these random guys. Zion and Austin I don't fricken know!" I say annoyed.
The girls laughed.
"We just want you to get a boyfriend!" Jazzy giggles drinking.
I rolled my eyes and sipped from my drink.
"Come on let's go dance! I want you guys to stop talking about these guys!" I say.
The girls and I started heading towards everyone who was dancing.
We then started dancing.
I swiftly moved my hips to the rhythm of the song.
All the girls started cheering me on and I laughed.
Alissa went behind me and put her hands on my hips as I Swiftly moved to the beat.
Tessa started snapchatting.
I grinded on Alissa and we started laughing.
I finished up my second cup of alcohol.
The girls and I continued dancing.
"Guys look! Zion is staring at Y/N!" Tessa whispered-yelled at the girls.
I rolled my eyes. I totally forgot that the girls were talking about the guys who threw the party.
I huffed and turned around looking at this so called Zion guy.
"The guy next to Austin!" Tessa said.
I looked at the guy next to Austin.
A really huge tall guy. He had brown skin.
"Are you guys ever gonna stop talking about these guys?" I say looking at the girls.
They didn't answer me and they continued dancing.
I got thirsty and walked towards the kitchen to get a water. I didn't want to get another alcoholic drink.
I decided to sit down in a couch, I was pretty tired of dancing.
I drank some water and a guy sat down next to me.
I turned towards him and he was smiling at me. Not any kind of smile. A creepy smile.
I scooted farther away from him, feeling uncomfortable.
He put his arm around me. I turned to him and he was smirking at me.
He put his hand on my thigh.
I stood up from the couch.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled and slapped the guy. I walked away.
I tried to looking for the girls.
I didn't find them so I started walking towards a hallway.
I looked behind me and saw the guy walking behind me.
I started freaking out and walked faster. I turned to another hallway.
I saw a door that was a creak open.
I immediately opened the door wide open and went in.
I gasped in relief.
"Hey?" A guy said.
I opened my eyes and saw a guy in the room. He had dark colored hair and fair skin. He was around 5'8.
"Oh! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to interrupt you-" I say worriedly.
He stands up worriedly. "Are you ok? You seem scared?" He says walking towards me.
"Umm yeah? There's a guy. He- he Umm-" I stuttered.
"Hey! It's okay!" He says opening the door looking around.
He closed it. "There's a guy outside. What did he do?" The guy from the room asked.
"He he tried harassing me. He put his arm around me and put his hand up my thigh. I tried escaping but he followed me here." I explained quickly.
"Ok tell me if it's the guy that's outside! I'll call security on him. I'm Nick Mara by the way." He worriedly said opening the door.
Nick came out of the room first, and I followed closely behind.
Once the guy saw Nick and I, he quickly ran trying to escape.
Nick quickly ran after him before he could escape the hallway.
"Is it him?" Nick asked me while he tried keeping the guy still.
I nodded vigorously.
The guy tried escaping from Nick's grip. Nick pushed him against the wall, pretty hard.
"Hey! Get me my phone from the room!" Nick said to me.
I quickly went to the room the Nick was in and grabbed his phone.
He yelled his passcode to me.
"Call security. It's on my contacts list." Nick said to me as he held the guy against the wall.
I put his passcode on and dialed the security's number.
I put it on speaker and the security guard answered.
"Hey! I need a security guard right away. There's a guy I got that needs the get out!" Nick yelled to the phone as the security ended the call.
The guy tried swinging at Nick but Nick swung a punch at him. The guy fell to the floor.
Security then came and took him away.
Nick came towards me and hugged me as the security guards took the the guy away.
"Hey!" He consoled me and he played with my hair. "I'm here. You'll be fine I promise."
I relaxed in his arms.
"Thank you!" I said above a whisper.
He looked at me. He put his hand on my face.
"You don't need to thank me!" He smiled.
I smiled and Nick led me into the room he was in.
I sat down in one of the spinning chairs.
Nick sat on the other chair.
"Thanks. If it weren't for you I don't know what would've happened." I said fiddling with my hands.
"Hey!" Nick said grabbing my hand. "The only thing that matters is that you're safe now. I'm here. You can stay over for the night if you'd like."
Nick put his hands on mine. He looked into my eyes, kindly.
I nodded looking into his eyes. He smiled.
"Here drink some coke. It'll bring your blood pressure back up. So you'll feel a little better!" He said handing me a fresh coke from the mini fridge.
I nodded and opened up the coke.
"Thank you. I feel less shooken up." I say finishing up the coke.
"That's was some introduction." Nick laughed.
"One for the books." I laughed. "I'm Y/N by the way!" I say.
"Yeah! I know! Y/N Y/L/N right? You're the social media queen" Nick says.
"That's me." I laugh. "And I wouldn't compare myself to a social media queen."
"Well everyone knows you!" Nick says.
I laughed and looked around the room.
I believe that it's a studio room.
"You do music?" I asked.
"Yeah! My band mates and I!" Nick explained.
"You're in a band?" I asked. Please don't tell me it's one of the guys that threw the party. The girls will literally freak out.
"Yeah! My friends and I threw the party." He said.
"That's cool!" I say.
So he is one of the guys the girls were talking about. They're gonna freak when I tell them.
"So if you guys threw a party why are you in here?" I giggled.
"Well I'm working on this melody on our new song. Now usually it's my band mate Brandon that's always in the grind nonstop. But I can't seem to put this melody together. Like it doesn't sound right." He rambled.
I giggled.
"Let me hear!" I laughed.
He turned to the recording and played it.
It sounded very dance like but it didn't sound quite right.
"I get you. Here let me try." I say.
"Go all out." Nick says leaning on his chair.
I started playing around with the melody. I changed up the sounds a bit. I lifted some of the beats up and played it again.
"What? It sounds perfect!" Nick said surprised. He played it again.
I giggled. "What can I say. I'm a miracle worker."  
He laughed. "Thank you." He said hugging me. "I gotta show the guys!"
"What's the band called? Maybe I've heard of you guys before?" I asked.
"It's prettymuch!" He smiled dorkishly.
"Wait hold up! I know who you guys are!" I say.
"Really?" He says.
"Yeah but I'm more of a Why Don't We girl you know!" I laughed.
He stood up playfully offended.
I laughed. "I'm joking. I'm friends with Why Don't We, I've just never met you guys before." I say.
"No no! It's fine. I've heard of few of their songs. They're  pretty good." Nick says.
"Yeah they are. I'm sure your guys music is great. Especially with what I just heard." I say pointing to the recording.
"Thank you!" He said. "I think the party is ending? I hear less commotion." Nick said.
My phone started ringing. I got my phone from my bag and saw that it was Alissa.
"Hey Y/N! Where have you been?? We've been looking for you!" Alissa said.
"Hey I'm fine! I'm with a friend." I say. Nick smiled hearing me call him a friend.
"A friend? And the party ended so where are you so we can start going home!" Alissa said through the phone.
"Yes a friend. And you guys can go home. I think I'm gonna stay the night?" I say looking at Nick.
I put Alissa on mute. "I can still stay right? Or do you want me to go?" I asked him.
"No stay!" He smiled showing his straight teeth.
I unmuted Alissa.
"You're gonna stay? With who?" Alissa asked.
"I'll explain everything tomorrow. I'm gonna stay here for the night, I feel safe here." I say.
"Safe?? Is everything ok?" Alissa asked.
"Everything is fine now!" I say reassuringly.
"Who are you staying with?" Alissa asked.
"I'm staying with Nick." I say.
"Nick? Like Nick Nick?" Alissa said.
"Yes Nick. The one that from the band." I laughed rolling my eyes.
"Yes! Y/N got a man!" She says to the girls.
I laughed through the phone. Nick look at me confused as to why I'm laughing, a smile creeping on his face.
"I'll call you guys tomorrow." I giggled ending the call.
"Why did you start laughing when I was brought into the conversation?" Nick asked laughing.
"My friends are annoying." I chuckled.
"What? Why?" He asked curiously.
"So before we came to the party. They were talking about these guys that we're gonna throw a party. They were saying that these guys were in a band. Simon Cowell's band. I don't know what!" I say laughing.
Nick listened intently, a smile plastered on his face.
"Little did I know that it was you guys. They then started shipping me with your band mates. With all of them except for you. They were like it's gonna be fate if you meet one of the guys at the party, and it's so ironic that I met you and they didn't "ship" me with you but anyways that happened. And I was talking to Alissa on the phone." I say.
"Like Alissa Violet?!" He asked.
I laughed. "Yes Alissa Violet."
"She started freaking out when I told her that I'm staying over with you! She was like Nick Nick, and I was like yes Nick the one from the band! That's why I started laughing. I swear they're so annoying. They were like Y/N you need to get a man." I say mimicking the girls.
"That's so funny. Cause my band mates and I have celebrity crushes on all the girls from The Dream Team!" He says laughing.
"Really?? I want to know who likes me. I could meet them and see their reactions!" I say excitedly.
Nick started spinning around in his chair. He stayed silent.
"Well... you kind of already met him." He said avoiding eye contact.
"Nick!! Really?" I laughed putting my arm on his shoulder.
"Yeah! I was fanboying when you came in here. I felt like Superman protecting you from that guy!" He blushed.
"Aww!" I giggled. "You're blushing."
He covered his face and I giggled.
"Well it's about to be 3am. When you're tired let me know. I'll let you borrow some clothes so you can sleep." He said sweetly.
"Thank you! And it's 3 in the morning already? Time flies talking to you!" I say.
He laughs standing up.
"Come on let's go get you some clothes. If the guys see that I'm bringing a girl in my room they'll bother me so much." He chuckled opening the door seeing if we were in the clear.
"Wow I feel like I'm back in high school." I giggled sneaking across the hallway following Nick to his room.
He laughed opening the door to his room.
I sat in his bed while he got me some clothes to wear.
He handed me a white champion shirt and some nike sweats.
"The restroom is over here." He said leading me to his conjoined bathroom.
"Thanks." I smiled and headed towards the restroom.
I took my dress off and folded it.
I then put the champion shirt on leaving me pantsless.
I then heard the door open, someone entered Nick's room.
"Dude!! You missed the party! Guess who we saw?" A guy said.
"Who?" Nick asked.
"Y/N! She was with Alissa Violet and the rest of the girls from The Dream Team!" The guy said.
I put on Nick's sweats and giggled.
I decided to come out of the restroom and surprise the guy who was talking about me.
I walked out the restroom and Nick smiled brightly looking at me.
I saw that it was the guy who introduced himself to the girls and I earlier, Austin.
"No I don't think I missed much." Nick laughed.
Austin was so confused.
"Austin right?" I asked chuckling.
"Y-yeah!" He says looking at Nick for an explanation.
Nick laughed.
"This is Y/N! I met her earlier. She's staying for the night." Nick said to Austin.
"Well hey." Austin said coming out of his trance.
"Hey." I said hugging him. He hugged me back.
"Well I'll let you guys go now?" Austin asked furrowing his eyebrows looking at Nick and I.
"Yeah." Nick said closing the door behind Austin.
"Well now all the guys are gonna know you're here." Nick laughed unfolding the blanket from his bed.
I giggled.
"Well you can lay down in my bed. If you feel uncomfortable I can sleep in the floor or I can sleep in one of the other guys room. So you can feel comfortable." Nick said.
"No no! I don't want you to leave the room for me. I can sleep in the floor." I say.
He chuckled. "I'm not gonna let you sleep in the floor."
"Well your bed is pretty big. I guess we can both sleep in your bed." I say slowly.
"You sure? I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." He says.
"Yeah I'm sure. Plus I'll probably get scared at night because of what happened earlier. So I'll need you to protect me again." I giggled going under the blankets.
"Gladly. I gotta warn you though. I'm a deep sleeper so you're gonna have to slap me so I can wake up." He laughs.
"Oh yeah I'll for sure slap you." I say sarcastically as he got under the blankets.
He laughs and hands me a charger so I can charge my phone.
"Thanks." I sat and charge my phone.
Nick's turns off the light and the room turns pitch black.
I move around and get comfortable in the bed.
"Good night!" Nick whispers petting my hair.
I laugh and pet his hair.
He laughs and we both head to sleep.
-
I woke up the next day to a bunch of voices. I kept my eyes closed, remembering that I'm not in The Dream Team House.
"I can't believe Nick met Y/N!" A guy says. I'm guessing one of his bandmates.
"He didn't just meet her! He became friends with her! And literally slept with her!!" One of the other guys says.
"He even let her wear his clothes! You know how Nick is with his clothes!" One of the other guys whispered loudly.
I felt bad listening to their conversation, so I slightly pretended to wake up. Nick's bandmates immediately changed the subject.
"Oh look Edwin here's your towel!" Brandon said fast grabbing a random shirt on the floor, plastering it onto Edwin's chest.
"Oh thanks man? I was looking for it everywhere?!" Edwin said confused.
I giggled all the guys looked at me as Nick was out cold.
"You guys are horribly liars!" I laughed. "That's a shirt not a towel. I also heard you guys talking while we were asleep."
"Sorry you had to listen to our commentary. It's just that we got very curious to see if Nicholas here was asleep with the Y/N Y/L/N!" Zion explained.
I giggled.
"Yeah, we did but nothing happened between us if you guys are wondering. We just met last night at the party." I say.
"No, no. The five of us are very respectful men. Our song Would You Mind, represents that perfectly!" Austin says.
I laugh at them plugging their music.
"I'm sure you all are! But I'll just wake Nick up to take me home. I'm sure you guys are very busy with meetings and all." I say to them.
Brandon was about to tell me something but then closed his mouth once I shook Nick.
"Hmmmm." Nick groaned turning in his sleep.
"So you're not a morning person." I laugh.
"Y/N?" He says squinting his eyes.
I nod.
"I wasn't dreaming!" He says waking up.
I laugh, "No you weren't!"  
Nick rubbed his eyes and saw all the guys surrounding us.
"Wow I can never have privacy! I'm so sorry Y/N if they disturbed you." Nick says.
The guys stood there dumbfoundedly until Edwin spoke up.
"How? How did you just do that?" Edwin asked confused, pointing at Nick.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
"You- you just woke Nick up! No one and I mean NO ONE can wake Nick up!!" Brandon says.
"Oh my god! Get out!" Nick said standing up kicking out the guys from his room.
I laugh at Nick, he was so annoyed.
"As you can tell I'm not a morning person!" Nick said.
I laughed getting off of Nick's comfortable bed.
"Hey? Can you take me home?" I say.
"Yeah sure!" He says slipping on some Gucci slides.
"Wow you even got Nick out of bed this early in the morning!" Zion yelled through the door.
Then my phone goes off and I look to see who it is and to no surprise I see it's Shawn. I roll my eyes, because the girls probably told him something went on.
"Who's that?" Nick asks me as he put a hand through his hair.
"Oh it's just Shawn." I say and his eyes go wide.
"As in Shawn Mendes?" He asks, I giggle and look at him.
"Yes as in Shawn Mendes." I say smiling at him.
He smiles and I giggle some more.
"Uh you should take that. I'll be down stairs......" he says as he's about to walk out the door.
"NO!" I squeak.
Nick stood in his tracks and turns around.
I laugh.
"No, stay. It's just a text! And plus if you go down stairs, that means that I have to go downstairs by myself. And I don't want to go by myself, I'd feel awkward just walking around in your house." I explain giggling.
"No, you don't have to feel awkward! But I get you. I'll gladly stay since you insisted." He laughed.
-
Hey guys! Sorry I haven't been able to upload a chapter in over a month!! But thank you soooo sooo much for 1K reads, that crazy!! promise more Shawn chapters are coming. Soon, I promise.
What do you all think of Prettymuch being in the chapter? I felt like since Y/N is a social media star she should meet more social media influencers. You're welcome all my beanz, if you love prettymuch you'll love this chapter.
If you guys don't know who prettymuch, you all should look into them. Here's a photo of them if you're curious on how they look!                  
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Love you all and thanks for reading!
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freddiesaysalright · 5 years
Text
Peace Like A River Part 11
A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story
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Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee.
Word Count: 4.1K
Tag List:  @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv7867, @unicorn-princess-1999, @delilahmay39, @chlobo6, @dragon-out-of-water, @radio-hoo-ha If you’d like to be tagged for the epilogue let me know!
A/N: Sorry this took so long, y’all! I had a super busy weekend and didn’t feel like writing in my down time. At last, the thrilling conclusion! However, this story will have an epilogue and it will be SAPPY so get ready! Hope y’all enjoy :)
Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V  Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII  Part IX  Part X
Part 11 here we go!!!
The day had come at last to go to England. While you were traveling, you were always thankful for Violet. She was so easy going and never complained. She had no trouble on planes and you were blessed to never be that parent apologizing to the rest of the passengers for your fussy baby. Now, Violet was so excited she could hardly stand it.
The airport was even more crowded than usual. Of course, that was because it was a busy time of year. Everyone was trying to get home or somewhere to see their family. Adam was also a blessing because crowds did not bother him in the least, and he was forceful if he had to be in order to get through. It was nice to have him since you tended to get run over by people.
You sat at your gate, Violet snacking on some pretzels. You were reading a novel Gwilym had recommended to you and Adam was answering some emails. Basically, he was telling everyone to leave you alone until you were back from the UK.
“Mommy, how many more sleeps?” Violet asked.
“Well, we have this plane ride to New York,” you said. “We’ll have one sleep there. Then the next day, we fly from New York to London. But it’s a long, long ride, so we’ll sleep on the plane, too.” 
“Two more sleeps, then?” she said.
“That’s right,” you told her.
“Then we see Daddy!” she cried.
You kissed her head. “Yes, we do!”
She giggled and stuffed another pretzel into her mouth. You returned to your book. When you were called up to board, Adam helped you with your carry on so you could get Violet situated in your lap. You got her tablet out and her headphones on just as Adam sat down beside you.
“So,” he said. “You had a long story to catch me up on before I meet Gwilym in person. Why doesn’t he know he’s writing to you?”
You took a deep breath. “Let me start from the beginning.”
You told him everything. About Dear Friend, how you’d met Gwilym years ago, the night you reconnected, and everything since then, including the ordeal with Stacy and the confrontation with Henry. Adam listened patiently, only commenting once to call Stacy a “shady bitch” before urging you to continue.
You caught him up on why you hadn’t confessed to Gwilym. That the reason you held back that night in Atlanta was because of your low sense of self-worth. It was what held you back from admitting it all the way up until now.
“Honestly, you probably should have told him after you slept together,” he said. “But hey, sometimes you get dicked down so good it’s hard to remember stuff like that.”
You giggled. 
He looked at you with understanding. “But I get it. I’m a gay, black man from rural Alabama. I know what it’s like to hate yourself and feel like you don’t deserve love or happiness. Especially from someone you admire so much. I really, truly don’t blame you.”
You took his hand. “Thank you.”
“I got you,” he said gently. “So what’s your plan for telling him?”
“Well, I arranged a meet up,” you explained. You told him what you intended to do and he smiled.
“That’s romantic as hell,” he said. “I think he’s gonna be stoked to find out that it’s you.”
“I hope he’s not angry with me,” you admitted. “I kept it from him for so long.”
“If he’s as great as you tell me, he’ll understand,” he assured you. 
“He is that great,” you said. “And more. God, I love him so much.”
“Really?” Adam teased. “I couldn’t tell!”
You chuckled. 
A few hours later, you landed in New York. You had booked a hotel close to JFK since you’d be flying out again the following day. You went straight there. After you bid Adam goodnight and watched him disappear into his room, you entered yours and got ready for bed. You and Violet got cuddled up and you turned on the TV. A Charlie Brown Christmas was on, so you snuggled and watched it together. Violet adored Snoopy, so this was one of her favorites. She fell asleep just five minutes in. You followed behind shortly after.
The next day, you had time to have breakfast and rest before heading back to the airport. Once again, Adam was incredibly helpful. You had never traveled overseas before, so he helped you through the process. It wasn’t much different, but it was enough to make you nervous.
It was a long ride, but it all felt worth it because you were going to see Gwilym. You held Violet in your lap and smiled at the prospect - the three of you were going to be together again, as it should be. You remembered the woman who approached you at breakfast that morning and wondered how you ever could have questioned her. Of course you were a family.
You all slept for a lot of the trip. It was long, after all, and movies could only do so much. It was easier to pass the time with sleep. Then, after what felt like years of waiting, you landed in London, and you knew Gwilym was waiting for you. He was in that building. You could picture the smile on his face and the way his eyes gleamed.
Getting off the plane even felt like it took longer. As you and Adam grabbed your bags and got Violet squared away, your stomach twisted with excitement. Not long now.
Gwilym was waiting for you in baggage claim. Violet gasped loudly when she spotted him and then took off, narrowly dodging a rather surprised elderly gentleman with his massive suitcase. You whispered an apology to him as you passed.
“Daddy!” she yelled, beaming so wide you thought her face might split in half.
“There’s my little girl!” Gwilym returned, scooping her up and spinning her around as she shrieked with laughter.
He showered her with kisses on her cheeks and she giggled. Your heart melted watching them. You felt Adam by your ear.
“I’ll grab the luggage,” he said. “Go say hello.”
“No, I can help,” you tried to insist, but he stopped you.
“Go, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” you whispered.
He left and you walked briskly over to your two favorite people in the world. Gwilym grinned at you and you thought you might stop breathing. He was just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but he looked incredible.
“Hello, love,” he said sweetly.
You sank into him, letting him wrap his free arm around you and pull you into his embrace. It felt like everything coming together again. You could feel him, smell him, touch him. The dull ache of missing him was gone. He leaned down to kiss you deeply. You reciprocated with enthusiasm. 
“I missed you,” you said, nuzzling into his chest.
He pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I missed you too.”
Adam walked over, wheeling his and your luggage in front of him. He stopped and put the handles down as he locked eyes with Gwilym.
“Hi, I’m Adam,” he said, extending his hand.
Gwilym shook it. “Gwilym Lee. Wonderful to finally meet you in person.”
“You as well,” Adam returned.
“Are we all ready to go?” Gwilym asked.
“Yes!” you cried. 
He passed Violet to you so he and Adam could take the luggage. You went out to his car, loaded everybody and everything up, and headed to Gwilym’s home. The whole ride, you gazed out the window, taking everything in. It was exciting to be in a new place, especially with people who made you feel like you were home.
Gwilym’s house was lovely. He’d prepared two guest rooms - one for Violet and one for Adam. He was incredibly hospitable and looked just so thrilled at having you there. It was infectious, and you were so grateful for his kindness. 
That night, he told you he had a special surprise for you, and he took you all to a comedy club where they were having an open mic night. It was also a restaurant, so you decided to have dinner and drinks there. Luckily, Violet was not at all interested in the performers and spent most of the evening coloring so she missed all the inappropriate jokes. At one point, Gwilym excused himself for about ten minutes before returning to the table. Even those ten minutes felt like an hour after not seeing him for weeks.
“Are you alright?” you asked.
“Yeah, of course,” he said, but he had a sly grin on his face as he exchanged a look with Adam.
You looked at both of them, cocking a curious eyebrow. “What are you guys up to?”
“You’ll see soon, love,” he said, placing a swift peck on your cheek.
“Alright!” the host said excitedly. “I’ve just been told we have a celebrity here with us tonight. Fresh off her tour.”
Your mouth fell open as you looked at Gwilym. He laughed.
“Y/N Y/L/N, welcome to London!” the host cried.
“You didn’t!” you gasped, trying to ignore the applause. 
“Go up there!” Gwilym encouraged.
You rolled your eyes and obeyed, waving to the crowd as you normally would before a show. You didn’t really have any material planned, but you knew how to improvise. One of the managers handed you a microphone and you thanked him before looking at the crowd.
“Thank you,” you said to them. “This is certainly a surprise.” You looked at the hot. “What’s your name?”
“Tony,” he told you.
“Ah, well, thank you as well, Tony,” you said.
“We’re thrilled to have you,” he replied. “So, how are you enjoying the UK so far?”
“I’ve only been here a few hours, so I don’t have much to go on,” you began. “But I gotta say, not a big fan of the food. A couple hours here and I’m really starting to understand why Gordon Ramsey is so pissed off all the time.”
Tony laughed, as did the crowd. 
“Seriously, didn’t you guys colonize half the globe for spices?” you went on. “What’d you do with them? Because you sure as shit aren’t using any on your food.”
Another laugh went through them.
“And have you brought your daughter with you?” Tony asked.
“Of course,” you told him. “She’s the only reason people follow me on Instagram.”
They giggled.
“How was it travelling with her?” he wondered.
“Easy,” you said. “She got all her annoying out when I gave birth to her.”
“How do you mean?” he asked.
“Okay, this story is wild, so if you have to pee, go now,” you said. “But I was home by myself, and I heard this pop, and I thought it was my water. I was right, but my contractions were still really far apart, so I didn’t go to the hospital or anything.”
“You were going to take yourself?” Tony pressed, blinking in surprise.
“Well, yeah,” you said. “I was alone. But anyway, I labored for around six hours just fine, when suddenly, the contractions were super close together. I was in a blinding amount of pain and I knew I would never make it. So, in between contractions, I got a bunch of stuff I’d need and set up in my closet - I didn’t want to disturb my neighbors - then I called 911.”
“Oh my God!” he cried. “Did you deliver your daughter in your closet?!”
“Sure did!” you said proudly. “I could feel her crowning and the dispatcher was yelling at me like, ‘Hold her in! Don’t push!’ And I was yelling right back going, ‘I’m just fucking laying here, but she’s coming out oh my God!’ So, yeah, I gave a one hundred percent natural birth in my closet, all by myself.”
“When did the paramedics arrive?” he wondered.
“Literally a minute after she was here,” you said. “Thank God. She wasn’t crying, so I thought she wasn’t breathing and I was a wreck, but they took care of everything. Then she was crying and I was crying and the medics were crying. I even heard the dispatcher sniffle.”
He chuckled. “It is pretty amazing. And everything was fine afterwards?”
“I mean, we still had to go and see a doctor to be sure, but yeah, she was okay, I was okay, and that’s what matters,” you said.
“Well, that’ll scare you off from having any more children, won’t it?” he joked.
You laughed. “The opposite actually! I mean, what are the odds of that happening twice?”
They all laughed some more.
“So, the latest gossip is that you’re in a relationship with actor Gwilym Lee,” he said. “Tell us about that.”
“Funnily enough, Gwilym and I knew each other a couple years ago when we filmed a pilot that never aired,” you said. “He came to a show while I was on tour and brought the rest of the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody as well as Brian May and Roger Taylor, so I figured I owed him a date.”
Tony chuckled.
“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, I was really aiming for Ben Hardy, but Gwil’s alright too, I guess,” you teased.
Gwilym smiled as he watched you up on stage. This was different from the jokes you told on tour. There was an earnestness to them even though you were teasing. You weren’t joking to defend yourself anymore. You were joking to express yourself and he was so proud of you. 
His mind wandered to Dear Friend. The crazy thing was that whenever he thought about her, he pictured your face. Could it be you? You had made the reference to the letters that day on the phone, but could it actually mean…
He shook his head. No. You would have told him that night in Atlanta. Wouldn’t you? He couldn’t imagine why not. And even if not that night, surely you would have told him by now. Then again, it was awfully strange that both times he arranged to meet Dear Friend, the two of you just happened to be in the same city. He wondered if he was fooling himself. Was it just wishful thinking to hope that you could be Dear Friend? 
“Daddy,” Violet whispered, tugging on Gwilym’s sleeve to pull him from his thoughts. “I’m tired.”
He patted his legs and she clamored onto his lap, facing him so she could rest her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and turned his eyes on you again. His heart felt so full.
“Just rest your eyes, darling girl,” he said softly. “You’ve had a long day.”
She nodded and yawned, burrowing even further into him.
“You’re so good with her,” Adam remarked. “You think you and Y/N will have some more of your own?”
“Well, Violet is ours,” he said. “She chose me to be her father, in the face of her biological father. It is the highest honor of my life.”
Adam melted.
“But yes, someday, I’d like to have more children with Y/N,” Gwilym continued with a smile.
When the host finally let you return to your seat, the crowd applauded you for another few minutes. It was very sweet, and you were thankful for the moment, even if it had made you nervous at first. You beamed when you saw Violet on Gwil’s lap. You sat down beside him.
“She out?” you asked.
“Completely,” he returned.
“Well, let’s pay the tab and head home,” you said. 
You did just that, and when you got to the house, Gwilym put Violet to bed. Adam headed to his own room, telling you both a sleepy goodnight. You were in Gwilym’s room, stripping down to change into pajamas, but you found that suddenly, you weren’t so tired. With a smirk, you removed your bra and panties and stood there waiting for him.
When Gwilym came into the room, he saw you and his eyes went wide. Then you pounced on him, claiming his lips in a desperate, fiery kiss. He held you tight against him as he kicked the door shut. You made your way to the bed together. He made love to you, and once again, you experienced the joy of a caring partner. The way Gwilym made you feel was unlike anything else, and you would never tire of it.
As you lay together in the afterglow, catching your breath, Gwilym brought up something that surprised you.
“Y/N,” he said. “D’you...do you want more children? Henry said you didn’t want them at all before Violet, and I was speaking with Adam about it tonight and -”
You rolled to rest on his chest and cut him off with a swift kiss.
“I told Henry I didn’t want children,” you said, toying with Gwilym’s soft locks around his face. “But the truth is, I didn’t want his children.” You held his gaze for a long moment. “I’d have a hundred children of yours, my love.” 
He started to smile, but it faltered. The way you had phrased that last sentence made his mind start swirling with questions. It was a thing that Dear Friend might say. It sounded like something straight out of a letter.
“What is it?” you questioned, brow furrowing as you looked at him.
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “So, you’d have my children? Even if you have to deliver them in closets?”
“I’ve done it once, I can do it again,” you giggled and smiled at him. “I love you, Gwilym.”
Nothing stopped his grin now. “I love you too, darling. So very much.”
With that, you both drifted off to sleep. 
Over the next few days, you were incredibly busy. You wanted to see so much of London. Some stuff was the popular parts, but having Gwilym meant you got to see the non-touristy parts of the city too. Violet’s favorite thing was the London Eye. You thought she’d be terrified but she was impressively brave. Adam, on the other hand, was unable to look at the view without nearly vomiting. He did manage to take a picture of the three of you without any trouble.
Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was upon you. Violet was incredibly excited about all the gifts she’d be getting the following day, although at one point she looked at you, terrified.
“Mommy, does Santa know we’re in London?” she fretted. “Will he be able to find me?”
“Of course, baby,” you assured her.
“Mum and I spoke to him ourselves,” Gwilym said. “We told him that our little Violet would not be at home this year, but she’s been a very good girl and shouldn’t miss out on her presents.” 
He gently booped her on the nose with his forefinger. She giggled.
“Okay, good,” she said, relieved.
You beamed and kissed Gwilym on the cheek.
That night, Gwilym read “The Night Before Christmas” to Violet when he put her to bed. She fell soundly asleep in no time. Nerves turned your stomach as the time to reveal the truth approached. It was already seven o’clock. At a quarter to eight, Gwilym prepared to leave. You walked him to the door, helped him into his coat, and then pecked him on the lips.
“See you later,” you said.
“I love you,” he returned.
“I love you too.”
With an uneasy smile, he left. You looked at Adam who started the timer on his phone.
“Five minutes,” he said.
You nodded and started pulling your own coat on. Adam helped with your hat and then you took a deep breath.
“I’m gonna throw up,” you said.
“Chill,” he returned. “It’s just Gwilym.”
“Gwilym is everything,” you said. “If I lose him over this, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“You won’t,” he assured you. “You’ve got him forever, I think.”
“I hope so,” you said quietly.
A beat passed and then Adam’s phone buzzed.
“Time to go,” he said. “Don’t worry about Violet. Everything is about you and Gwilym right now.”
You nodded stiffly and opened the door. The cold air felt refreshing on your warm face. Adam had to nudge you out the door. He closed it behind you and you heard the lock turn with a soft click. There was no going back now. Letter in tow, you made your way to the park.
Each step felt heavy as your heart ached with turmoil. Gwilym would have every right to be angry with you. What if he didn’t find this gesture romantic? What if he turned you away and never spoke to you again? How could you ever recover? That sick, unworthy feeling began to slither up your spine, almost making you turn around an banish yourself from Gwilym’s life. 
You stopped and took a breath. No. You were giving Gwilym everything, even if it was scary and risky. No matter what.
The park was lit only by the soft moonlight and yellow street lamps. You saw Gwilym’s tall silhouette and smiled. Suddenly, all fear was gone. Gwilym meant serenity and calm. You were absolutely safe here. You stopped several feet away from him, quietly pulling out your favorite letter and began to read.
“Dear Friend,” you began.
Gwilym stiffened. Had he heard that right? He was almost afraid to turn around.
You skipped to the best part. “I read a quote from Tolstoy the other day that made me think of you and our relationship. It went, ‘I already love in you your beauty, but I am only beginning to love in you that which is eternal and ever precious - your heart, your soul…” you continued on and tried not to stumble over the words. You wanted to look up, but he hadn’t turned around yet.
“Isn’t that a lovely sentiment?” you read, and finally, he began to face you. He was slow and unsure, as if still deciding whether or not he should. “Although I don’t know what you look like, I feel I do know your soul. We have worked hard to establish such a love. I do feel that I love you. Have I ever said it to you before? Well, I’ll say it again.”
Finally, he was looking at you. You glanced up and locked eyes. Joy danced in his and you beamed at him, reciting the next part from memory.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. Who cares what it means to others as long as we know what we mean to each other? Looking forward to your response as always. Yours, Dear Friend.”
“It’s you,” he said quietly, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “It really is you!” 
He took two quick strides toward you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You laughed and held onto his shoulders. He laughed with delight as well as he twirled you. For a brief moment, you felt like a princess. When he set you down, he kissed you hard. Your arms floated to their usual place around his neck. He kissed you all over, from your lips to your cheeks and jaw, whispering his affection into your skin. 
You were overwhelmed by it all. It was perfectly clear to you know - no matter what you did or how you felt, he would love you. You held tight to him as a tear slipped down your cheek.
“Oh, Gwilym, I -” You returned a kiss to his cheek. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry I took so long to tell you. It’s just...that night in Atlanta, when I saw it was you, I didn’t think I…” you trailed off, swallowing a sob.
“I know, my love,” he said, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “I know.”
The elation of this moment was too much. He wasn’t angry. He still loved you. How did you ever get so lucky to have this? And unconditionally?
“You are so good to me,” you choked out. “I promise I’ll do my best every day to make you feel a fraction of the happiness you give to me.”
He chuckled and pulled you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. You’d never felt safer. You’d never felt so at home. 
“Darling, don’t you see?” he said gently. “You have already given me everything. You make me the happiest man alive just by being in my arms.”
The wind blew cold around you, but neither of you felt it. You were warm and cozy from your heart to your toes.
This was it. Everything had fallen right into place. You and Dear Friend were one in the same, not two separate identities. It was all you. Gwilym’s heart was fully yours, and yours was fully his. It was as if they traded chests as you embraced.  
“Merry Christmas, Gwilym,” you sniffled, a small smile claiming your lips as you realized it was the first of many you would spend together.
He grinned. “Merry Christmas, my Dear Friend.”
You held each other again. Finally, you were at peace.
Peace like a river, blood on the drum
Something will chase me if I choose to run
Something will save me from life after love 
Something like time
Something like peace like a river
Peace like a river
Peace like a river
And peace in my mind
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