#I mean it might go some way to explaining why it's JUST with blender
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chipped-chimera · 2 years ago
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ugh the crashes are back
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radi0gh4stxd · 6 months ago
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Au infodump post!!
I feel like I’ve wrote enough about this au to now, like, post about it?? I don’t know, but I think writing it out might help me to fill stuff in lol.
I don’t think this will be a long post, but I intend to yap a little so yeah-
Habromania Au!
Yes, I’ve finally got a name for it, but longer than I wanted it be called but eh, it’s whatever. Fun fact: the word means, ‘Delusions of Happiness’, and I think that fits the premise of my au as well as it can right now.
Now, onto the actual Au.
So, this au focuses a little more on my favourite little guy, Raffs!! He was given the short stick in the Og game, so I’d thought I’d let him shine a little in this au!
Don’t worry, Caz is still around and is just as important, but I’m not confident in my ability to write him yet, so for now, Raffs is our main guy!
Everything leading up to the drilling stays the same, except in this, Raffs isn’t the one going into the dive bell, it’s Brodie. Why?? Because one) I needed a reason for Raffs to not be infected and two) I wanted Brodie to be an infected in my au. So, basically Brodie decides that, to soothe the boys anxiety, to go first to just show him that all is fine, and that he’s safe.
And then the drill happens. And The Shape wakes up. This stays the same. Caz and Gregor still fall, except, I decide to be nice and decide that Gregor also gets to live, so Raffs and Douglas pull those two out, help them and that jazz. Douglas and Gregor stay with the diving bell, and Caz and Raffs go down and investigate, like in the game.
They find Gibbo, not infected, but rightfully scared. Finlay is also here, but she isn’t too well, instead of Gibbo getting the stuff in him, it’s her. But she swears she’s fine, that it didn’t hit her skin or whatever. So now, the group makes their way to accommodations, where Roy, Trots, Archie and possibly, again im making this up as I go, O’Connor are. They talk, discuss what the hell is happening and are later joined by Douglas and Gregor.
Archie is Very happy to see Gregor alive :)
Raff’s quick to ask where Brodie is, because you know, if they’re here, then where’s Brodie?? And the two explain that, well, Brodie went to look for him. But he wasn’t right, something was definitely wrong with him. But he was gone before they could ask anything.
So, now they have to go round the rig, searching for the others. And the shape stuff still happens, infected still try and fuck them over yadda yadda-
Now not everything written here is set in stone, but most is. This is me just kinda word vomiting and hoping it makes sense.
Now, the Shape and the infection and infected.
As already seen, some of the og infected aren’t infected here, while some who weren’t infected are. Thats only a few characters, most of the og infected are infected here too.
The infection is different in this au. It’s mostly mental, but physical traits still appear, but it mostly stays in its origin spot of infection, unless said person has more than origin spot of infection <3
Think of this like, a mashed up version of those mlp infected videos, the infection from hollow knight and the mold from resi 7. I’ve taken bits and pieces of what I like about them and just- threw them in a blender.
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^^^
These are like, shoddy, sketched renditions of what I mean by the , ‘physical’ effects. The one on the left is Muir, and the one the right is Brodie. Not the best but I tried-
Now, I did change some things about the Shape for this au, and how it affects the crew, but I might, and by might I probably will, make a separate post for that.
As for now, that’s all I’ve got for this au. But yeah! Fun! If you have any questions about this au, I’ll try and answer them best I can, but I’ll warn you, I’m not to great at it. So if it comes off a bit awkward, that’s why<3
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darkstarofchaos · 6 months ago
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A Year in Review
Just watched a video about recontextualizing productivity by looking at what you've done over a long period instead of day to day, and you know what? I spend a lot of time feeling like I'm wasting time instead of doing things. So sure, let's look back over the last year and see what actually got done. No particular order, just accomplishments.
After two years of struggling with a computer science degree, I switched majors to art and design and went from struggling to pass my classes to my first ever term of all A's and B's. Among the classes I took last year were an improv class, which I enjoyed so much more than I'd expected to, and a 2D game design class, which. Well, I technically had a playable character, an item to collect, and an enemy to avoid at the end of it, but I hesitate to call it a game. It was a good learning experience, though.
I joined a few fandom events and projects. Among them was the TF Reverse Mini Bang, which... Led into a long-term project that has consumed my fic life since May, and I have gone back and forth between having so much fun and regretting my choices because my ADHD hates focusing on one project and ignoring all the others for so long, but I also ended up posting fic regularly for a few months because of it, so blegh. That's a whole thing and it's complicated and I badly need to figure out a balance between things I need to do and things I want to do, because taking breaks from the "should"s is important.
Oh yeah, and I got diagnosed with ADHD. And autism along with it. That was a big accomplishment that dominoed into getting set up with a primary care provider for the first time in my life. Also discovered that you can have Seasonal Affective Disorder in the summer, which might explain why summer is consistently my least productive season for writing, and why I just have no energy or motivation. Probably made worse by the autism, because summer comes with so many unpleasant sensory experiences, and I'd much rather bundle up under a weighted blanket and listen to the rain. All of which sounds pretty negative for an accomplishments rundown, but now that I know it might be a problem, I can try to accommodate it. So that's good.
I took an audiobook class in the spring and learned that kind of helped me push through my discomfort with talking to myself. More importantly, I learned a few things about taking care of my voice and using it in a healthy way, which means I've finally broken out of head voice/falsetto while singing. Which is great because singing is a stim I've been trying to indulge more, and it's more enjoyable without the strain and feeling like I've swallowed cotton afterward.
Now I just need to figure out how to strengthen my speaking voice so people can stop blaming my masks for their inability to hear me. Which ironically means unmasking, because I'm pretty sure the default social voice is an autism masking thing. I'd hoped wearing earplugs more often would naturally lead to that because I'd be trying to hear myself, but nah.
On the other hand, the earplugs probably help. Got a nice pair with holes in the center so I can still hear people while muffling background noise. I didn't think I had a problem with general noise outside of classes where I'm trying to think, but dang do I notice it when I'm not wearing them now.
Oh yeah, and I learned that tedious reading is easier for me when it's in audio form. It's not foolproof because some speakers are terrible to listen to, but if I can get a schoolbook in audio form, I'll take that over reading it myself any day.
My various classes mean that I've begun to learn some Adobe programs. Which is eh because Adobe sucks, but they're good skills for employability. So sure, I'll count that as an accomplishment.
I rigged my first model in Blender. Sort of. It has the deform rig, but I never got around to adding the control rig. Really need to go back and finish that.
Honestly, it's been more a year for self-discovery and learning than actually making things. Which isn't a bad thing at all, because that's information I can apply moving forward. Especially now that I've changed degrees to something that I'm actually enjoying.
Now I just need to get the darn executive disfunction out of my way.
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northwest-cryptid · 9 months ago
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Some of the most genuinely accepting, kind, and supportive people I've met in my life are NSFW creators. I never quite pieced together why that was. Like I cannot overstate just how much I wouldn't have ever been able to keep myself alive, making what money I did from commissions; had it not been for the NSFW animation community around me.
People who took me in, explained things to me; helped me to learn and grow and treated me with genuine respect. I often talk about my experience as a Vtuber, and it's baffling to me because; Vtubers will backstab and sabotage each other if they think it will get them more viewers. Meanwhile I had people teaching me tricks to animation even if it meant I might get more commissions than them.
I think I've sort of figured it out after all this time, and it was only after talking to a lot of my fellow NSFW creators that I really think it clicked for me. Not one of us is free from the stigma, it doesn't even have to be purely negative; it just exists either way.
When I talk about working an inherently NSFW job or say that I've done adult animation and other adult entertainment work; people treat it like it's something horribly taboo. They become so fascinated by all my "crazy stories" that they refuse to accept how mundane it actually is. I use quotations there because I need you to understand that I don't ever tell people my stories are interesting. Hell I don't even tell people I have stories in the first place. I worked an animation gig for a while but no one ever cares about the actual art of animation. They care about who I may or may not know, what I may or may not have encountered with clients and such.
The second someone figures out what I've done to help pay the bills it becomes a sort of label they place on me. I'm no longer a complex and three dimensional individual like them; I'm the person who did adult entertainment. They want to hear all the weird people I encountered; and get annoyed with me when I point out that most of my clients are just normal people. They want to hear about all the crazy things that happened, only to be disappointed when I explain that it was really just a simple animation gig.
They don't care for the reality of it, they won't accept the reality of it. They want to believe all NSFW creators are these drooling horny messes of people who slobber all over their work with a raging hard-on the entire time. They dislike when I say that the thing we mostly talked about was genuinely just work, or new games that came out; or once we had a whole conversation about pizza toppings. A lot of my adult entertainment friends talk about things like a love for music, gaming, tv shows, cars, art, photography; whatever.
The thing is, we're all so stigmatized, so judged; so labeled. We have no room to stigmatize and in-fight with each other; rather we have each other's backs. The more NSFW art is accepted by the norm, the better it gets for all of us; and that's why when something NSFW hits it big and becomes popular and isn't immediately slandered with "yea but it's porn" it's a damn miracle.
I don't care if it's porn, it's literally art, it's something that someone put time and effort and care into making. An image that someone takes a look at for two seconds while crankin' their snake; took an artist hours if not days to make. There's no appreciation for the art there, and when you work in a medium like 3D animation, even if you work in something like Blender; no matter how skilled you are and how good the end result is. You're going to get the same "SFM Porn" stigma in the end, and you just kinda deal with it, because what else can you do?
I mean it when I say this, porn artists are like the retail workers of the world. No one appreciates them, people will always talk poorly about them; they don't make nearly enough money for their work (no matter how much they make) and yet everyone is happy they're around. If they went away people would surely notice, people would be mad; where would they go for porn if adult actors, animators, voice actors, artists, etc. all just stopped. However when it comes right down to it we're all looked down on, it's so stupid.
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randomperson99sworld · 9 months ago
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Ruffled Feathers 🪶
~ Part 38 ~
Summary: Julia Morgan, Bobby's niece, has always been a royal thorn in Dean Winchesters ass since the day they met 1 year ago at Bobby's memorial. She wants to be a hunter, he thinks she's a dumb kid playing dress up. Will she always be seen as an unwanted load in Dean's eyes or will he see something more?
Pairing: Dean x OC
Warnings: Age gap, language, sexual themes (used lightly).
Word Count: 719
A/N: This is chapter is a little short but I’ll make up for it with the next one, it might get a little spicy ;). Stated as always this story is cross posted on Wattpad. Happy reading! ♥️
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A few days had passed since the ghost case, and things around the bunker had started to feel a little lighter. Dean had taken a few steps toward his old self—nothing too drastic, but small things that meant the world to Julia and Sam. He'd started to ease up, letting the weight of the Mark and the guilt slip away bit by bit.
Julia had made it her mission to help him through it. Little things, really. She'd crack jokes, tease him when he'd get too serious, and offer small distractions like a movie night or teaching him some random trivia she'd found in one of Bobby's old books.
To her relief, it was working.
Dean had started to smile again—actual, real smiles. The kind that reached his eyes. He was still Dean, still brooding and carrying the weight of everything he'd been through, but there were moments when he seemed lighter, more like the man she knew he really was beneath it all.
One afternoon, as they sat in the kitchen, Dean leaned back in his chair, smirking as Julia rambled on about a weird case she'd read about in the Men of Letters archives. She was trying to explain the ridiculousness of a haunted toaster when Dean cut her off with a chuckle.
"A haunted toaster? Really? That's what you're spending your time on?" he asked, his lips twitching in amusement.
Julia grinned, shrugging as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Hey, you'd be surprised at the things that can get possessed. Toasters, vacuum cleaners... I think there's even a case about a haunted lawnmower somewhere."
Dean shook his head, laughing softly. "Yeah, well, if I see a lawnmower coming at me, I'm out. I'll leave that one to you."
She smirked. "Deal. But don't come crying to me when you're ambushed by a vengeful blender."
Dean's eyes flickered with warmth as he shook his head. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"
"Yeah, but you like it," Julia shot back, her grin widening.
Dean's smile faltered for a second, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Yeah," he said quietly, almost to himself. "I guess I do."
The brief shift in his tone made Julia pause, but before she could say anything, Dean stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, enough about haunted kitchen appliances. I'm gonna go grab a beer. You want one?"
She nodded, watching him as he walked toward the fridge. There was something in the way he moved now—less heavy, less burdened. Julia knew it wasn't all gone; the Mark was still there, and the weight of what he'd done still lingered in the back of his mind. But for now, he seemed... better.
"You know," Dean said as he handed her a beer and sat back down, "I gotta admit, I'm kinda surprised you're still hanging around."
Julia raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the cold beer. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, after everything..." Dean trailed off, his fingers idly tapping the side of his bottle. "I guess I figured you'd be long gone by now."
She tilted her head, studying him. "Why would I be?"
Dean shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "I dunno. I'm not exactly easy to be around these days."
"Dean," she said softly, leaning forward to catch his eye. "I'm not going anywhere. I keep telling you we’re in this together.”
He looked at her, the familiar guilt flickering in his eyes for just a moment before he nodded. "Yeah. I guess we are."
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. They didn't need to fill the space with words—they'd reached a point where just being together, existing in the same space, was enough. Julia could tell Dean was starting to find peace in that, too.
Later that evening, as the sun began to set and the shadows of the bunker grew long, Julia caught Dean smiling again. A real smile, not just the forced one he'd worn to keep up appearances. It was the kind of smile she hadn't seen in what felt like forever.
And in that moment, Julia knew that, slowly but surely, they were going to be okay.
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twilightakiishi · 10 months ago
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hi hi venus! stopping by with 👯, 💞, and 🙈 for the ask game!
hi hi nyx! tysm for asking :')
💞.
👯: What canon character are you most similar to?
i'm not good at picking one for things like this...but I do think i'm a lot like kiryu. imagine if kiryu was blushy and got flustered like sakura. that's me. and some days i'm like kaji. i actually relate to kaji a lot but that's a different story that i don't feel like explaining rn 😭 i know those 3 characters are so weird to mix together but uhh. put em in a blender. n that's venus!
🙈: Why would your ship be thought of as cute/fluffy? Why would your ship be considered problematic?
since there's no shop specified ima just pick venchiya! oh god there's a lot of reasons you could consider venchiya problematic. let's start with cute.
we balance each other out! when I feel needy I can go to endo, when takiishi beats on endo too much I can comfort him, when endo's yapping takiishi's ears off he can come sit in silence with me, if endo's too clingy i can go to takiishi, yadda yadda. you get it. they're so polar opposite— not that they don't love each other or it can't work out, but sometimes a mediator might be nice, and I can fill that role !
however, for the reason above, I can see fandom viewing it as problematic, specifically ppl who ship endo and takiishi (which, by the way, is also me. i just want them to be happy lol). also? I'm sure there would be some element of fear or distress at seeing endo get slapped on the regular. he's my widdle baby yknow. maybe this is less problematic and more toxic but I mean...I know what I'm signing up for when I selfship with characters like this LOL it's gonna be a little toxic !
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yanderereloaded · 4 months ago
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┄ ‎‎ ‎ Yandere Simulator: Reloaded. ‎‎ ‎ ♡
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﹒ Welcome to Yandere Simulator: Reloaded. This is a blog pertaining to a work-in-progress fangame/modded version of Yandere Simulator. Please note, Yandere Simulator is owned by Yandere Dev! We do not support his actions.
﹒ This blog is for tracking progress, gathering ideas, talking about the game in general and more. You're always welcome to send in asks for ideas, questions, and more!
﹒ Yandere Simulator: Reloaded is an indie project. This is worked on by two high school students, so please do not be overly demanding. I can promise you, we are trying our best.
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What will be in this game?
﹒ The Yandere Simulator you know and love, except with better code, some fixed models, bug fixes, and more!
﹒ If you're curious about specifics, sneak peaks will be posted including concepts, clips, photos, and more! We take all suggestions into consideration whilst working on this game!
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Who are the current developers?
﹒ Ray: Main owner of this blog, brain stormer, designer, tester, model creator(?).
﹒ Lair: Main coder, brain stormer, emotional support. (That last one is a joke, I promise.)
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Why create this fangame?
﹒ In all honesty, frustration. The original game is a lagfest and we want to help in any way we can, even if its just contributing our free time to create a fangame.
﹒ I, Ray, have followed Yandere Simulator for a long time. Even when I was back in elementary school, I regularly watched videos over it and loved the game. Ever since then, I've followed the game. But after a whole decade of development, only two rivals in the main story, and YanDev's inexcusable actions, I've had enough.
﹒ I might be a little bit of a hypocrite for still playing the game, but that's why me and Lair are working together to create this fangame. We aren't earning any money from this and we understand wholeheartedly this idea was never and will never be ours. But we want to help the fans of Yandere Simulator cope with the insanely long wait.
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What can be put in the ask box?
﹒ Honestly, go wild. Just do not attack me and Lair. Ask questions, preferably about the game, send suggestions, and more!
﹒ Just know, if you're being a weirdo, you might be blocked. Thanks for understanding!
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What do the tags mean?
﹒ Concept: Personal concepts. Usually is stuff that will be added to the game. Basically a sneak peak, but text form.
﹒ Planned Addition: Basically concepts but 100% confirmed to be added!
﹒ Sneak Peak: Screenshots or video of code, gameplay, etc.
﹒ Fan Concept: Basically concept, but from stuff sent to the ask box!
﹒ Planned fixes: Stuff that annoys us in the game that we will tirelessly troubleshoot until we get it.
﹒ Development: Literally anything about the games development.
﹒ Off Topic: Usually just shitposting.
﹒ All of the above: Just trying to reach our whole audience.
﹒ None of the above: Probably just chatting or ranting about glitches in the main game.
﹒ Something else: It'll explain itself.
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Where is the game currently available?
﹒ Currently, it isn't available anywhere. We have just scratched the surface currently, trying to learn how to code and use Blender. Please be patient!
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What if I have something else to ask?
﹒ Send it to the ask box! We'd be more than happy to answer your questions!
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﹒ Can't wait to go on this journey with you all! Thank you for any support you give us!
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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago
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ouu reqs are open- imagine explaining cuteness aggression to the bros omg- like yes i love you so so much I want to squeeze you like a stress ball and but you in a blender <3
Ah, yes, the “you’re so cute I’m going to squish you” feeling.
Cuteness Aggression!
Lucifer
What Lucifer didn’t expect to hear this morning was “YOU’RE SO CUTE WHAT THE FUCK I WANT TO PUNCH YOU!”
…Is MC okay? What was he doing?? He just had a bit of whipped cream on the tip of his nose…
MC quickly explains the concept of cuteness aggression, basically something might be so cute our bodies and brains don’t know how to react to this, so the only thing it can think to do is “hurt this thing so it stops being cute!”
Lucifer blinks a few times then slowly nods. Well, you learn something new every day. His next course of action is to never be too adorable again.
Mammon
“YOU’RE SO SWEET MAMMON I JUST WANT TO BREAK YOUR SWEET LITTLE FACE!” Eh?!?! What the fuck human?!
Mammon is actively scooting away from MC as they try and explain what they mean. So uh… something is so cute they have to murder it?
Haha… fun… hey human, WHAT’S THAT! Mammon took that opportunity to flee. He can’t let his cause of death be his own adorableness.
Leviathan
Levi is well versed in the ways of cuteness aggression, he and MC were once sitting in his room and Ruri-Chan did something really wholesome, and Levi straight up broke the glass he was holding.
As MC helped bandaged his bleeding hand, they helpfully explained exactly why he had that reaction to something so adorable. (Other than the explanation that he’s a simp but whatever-)
Levi just sort of nods along and wonders why his own body would betray him… why wouldn’t his own brain accept pure cuteness..?
Satan
Now, Satan knows what cuteness aggression is, he just wasn’t expecting to be a victim of it. When MC suddenly grabbed his cheeks and started squeeing.
“SAAAAAATAAAAAAAAN YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE!!!!!” “M-MC! Get off!”
They almost knocked over his tea and they scared the cat off his lap! >:( but what’s this about him being cute? He tries to act dismissive, but from the blush on his cheeks MC can tell that he’s flattered.
Asmodeus
Both Asmo and MC let out a shriek mid-way through doing each other’s nails before hugging each other (careful not to mess up their nails)
“YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE ASMO!” “YOU TOO MC!” “I just wanna shake you and pinch your face!” “I wanna just eat you up!”
Both are just two smitten morons completely desensitized to each other’s… strange confidence.
Beelzebub
“Beel.” “Yeah?” “Beel? I love you. I wanna crush your spine.” “…I’d like it if you didn’t.”
Beel is confused, but you know what’s less confusing? The spaghetti he’s eating, he offers some to MC as they explain that they didn’t actually mean it and they were just exaggerating.
He just sort of nods along with this explanation, but he is happy that MC finds him cute, most people just find Beel intimidating :(
Belphegor
Okay MC what in the fresh hell did they just say to him?
“Belphie, your sleeping face is so adorable I just wanna smother you.” “…MC what the FUCK-”
He was drowsy before by boy howdy is he awake now! Belphie just frantically inches away as MC desperately tries to explain what they meant, then Belphie stops moving and says “psh, like you could hurt me anyway. Night, MC.”
(Hurt him, MC)
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rynne311 · 4 years ago
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Pizza and Beer
Summary: When friends move, you help out in exchange for pizza and beer. Those are the rules, even when you don't like beer and you like your friend way more than just a friend.
Word Count: 1353
The offer had been simple enough. Jason offered you pizza and beer if you helped him move. You weren't sure how much help you could actually be, but you weren't about to pass up the chance to spend the day with your friend. Deep down, though, you wished this was a moving in together kind of move instead, but for as well as Jason knew you, he was no mind reader, especially when it came to your feelings for him.
You were surprised when you got out of the moving truck he'd rented to find all of the big furniture had already been moved in. You assumed that meant he'd already moved his gear to avoid any wandering eyes as well. Together, you spent all morning moving all of the smaller boxes in tandem. The time flew by as you both joked around with each pass in the hallway and stairwell.
Before you knew it, every last box was upstairs and you were busying yourself unpacking them while Jason took care of grabbing the pizza he'd promised you. This may not be your home, but you tried to add your personal touch to the apartment.
"Helping reward's here," he announced as he set the pizza box and a couple of beers on the empty coffee table. You made a mental note to grab some large decorative books for him to put there. With a smile, you got up from your spot in front of the bookcase and joined him on the couch for a well deserved break.
The two of you had finished most of the pizza, and were quite satisfied you'd found the best pizza spot in the neighborhood, before Jason noticed he was the only one with an empty bottle. When he looked a little closer he realized you hadn't even touched the beer he'd grabbed for you.
"You good over there?" he asked. You almost thought he might still be joking around and about to make some crack about some pizza spilled on your shirt. When you looked down and confirmed nothing had fallen onto your shirt, you couldn't hide the confusion that painted your face and furrowed your brows together.
"Yeah," you confirmed cautiously. "Why?"
"I mean you've busted your ass all day and now you won't touch your beer," he explained. "You usually go drink for drink with me and now you're not so it seems like something's wrong."
"I'm fine, I promise. I just don't like beer," you explained. His puzzled look begged you to continue. "When we're at the bar I always get mixed drinks or wine. Now if you'd made a pitcher of margaritas, you never would have had a chance to even try them. But a blender really isn't the top of the list to unpack."
You may have answered his question, but you left him with so many more. He brought his own drink to his mouth in an attempt to hide his visible confusion. It almost worked, but you caught the way his brows furrowed from above the bottle.
"It's probably safer this way anyway," you remarked, trying to inject a bit of humor. "You know me and tequila are a dangerous combination. Just like the song, sometimes it just means clothes start falling off."
Jason hummed in absent agreement, but you could tell you'd already lost him. He'd jumped down the rabbit hole of questions, and he wasn't going to be really listening, or at least processing what was said, until he reemerged.
"So why'd you come today?" he asked. "When I asked you, I told you I'd get pizza and beer, so you knew I didn't have anything else to offer, but you still accepted."
It felt like a now or never kind of moment. One of the ones where you could be bold or you could be practical. You mulled over your options for what felt like an eternity, and while you wanted to be bold, you didn't want to lose what you had. Instead of answering, you grabbed another piece of pizza to buy a little time. The eye roll you got in return told you Jason knew exactly what you were doing.
"I thought I could be helpful," you finally answered as you finished your slice.
"That doesn't feel like the whole answer," Jason scoffed.
"Maybe," you confirmed. "But it also begs the question why you asked me to come help today if you already had everything moved in up here but some boxes in a half empty moving truck, or why I'm the only person you asked to come help you?"
Taking a page out of your book, Jason snagged your untouched beer to avoid having to answer.
"You want a full answer? I'll give you as full an answer as you'll get for right now," you began. Now it seemed you may have finally found the courage to be bold. "I wanted to spend time with you. You're always off wrangling supervillains and drug lords, which don't get me wrong is great and all. It has dropped the number of break-ins in my building to almost none. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you, because I do. I always do. A lot."
He started to choke on his drink, telling you you'd given a little more of an answer than you'd wanted to give. You couldn't say you were a fan of this emotional vulnerability, but your chest did feel ever so slightly lighter. You tried to read his face for a moment for some sort of reciprocation, but feeling the heat rise in your own face forced you to turn back to your empty plate. Your eyes only darted back over to him once you heard the bottle connect with the table.
"Maybe I wanted to spend time with you too. Maybe I didn't want all of the noise with my brothers and Roy around, especially when they manage to break something." With each 'maybe,' his voice grew a little more pointed and defensive, and you thought you could see a vulnerability that mirrored your own in his eyes. "Maybe I wanted this place to have your touch and feel like you. Maybe -"
You cut him off, leaning across the couch and kissing him. It was too rare in life that you got a second chance on a now or never moment, and you didn't want to squander it. You could only describe the feeling as a wave of excitement followed by a rush of relief when he raised his hand to your face and pulled you closer, returning the kiss.
"Maybe," his voice was softer now, almost cracking, "Maybe I've wanted that to happen for a very long time."
You felt breathless, but that didn't stop the smile from growing across your face. This time when you looked in his eyes, they seemed to share your mixture of excitement and relief. You couldn't help yourself as a small chuckle broke through.
"You like me, you really, really like me," you teased in a sing-song voice, only pausing to make kissy noises in the air. "You like -"
Having had his own feelings confirmed, Jason cut off your teasing as he pulled you into another kiss. When you both finally let go, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, watching as your eyes shifted back into focus. He wore a self-assured grin as he said, "There's no maybe about that."
"No, I don't think there is," you agreed. You sat back a little, trying to sear this moment into your memory forever. "Who would've thought a stupid beer could make this happen?"
"I should have brought you some beer to not drink ages ago," he joked, pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You settled into your contentment in his arms, knowing now you may never have to leave this feeling again. "Next time I'll have tequila, it sounded like those consequences are fun."
You rolled your eyes in response as you wiggled a little closer into his side. Yeah, some post-margarita consequences now sounded a lot more appealing.
Tags:
Everything: @societiesholyskittle @pickyblue12 @icycoldbeanieweanies @thoughtfullychaoticdreamer @bloatedandlonly @sakurafille @jason-todd-squad @childofposeidonforlife @webcraft4eveh @bookish-and-shy @dnarez @thirstiestpotato
Jason: @jason-todd-rh @princessowly1234 @manymanyenvelopes @drarrylov3r @axa-vega
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xxreader-writerxx · 4 years ago
Text
Found
Word Count: 3.7k
Dad! Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader (Granger and mum too)
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food, sort of sad, abandonment issues, pregnancy, vomiting, not a lot but tell me if I missed any.
A/N: I'm obsessed with dad fred ok?
Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House, Y/N/N: Your Nickname
"I'm sorry! I-It's just that between the shop, and Umbridge, and my mum- It's all too much and I can't also-" Fred says as I feel tears drip down my cheeks. "You also can't have me? I didn't know that I was such a burden Fred. If I knew I wouldn't of burdened you for three fucking years." I say and he looks at me hurt. "No- No! I didn't mean that- Baby" He begins but I let out a choked laugh. "You can't call me that. No not when you are breaking up with me. That's not fair." I cry and he tries to move closer but I take a step back picking up the clothes in my closet. "W-What are you doing?" He asks and I throw his shirts at him as I grab his things on the bottom. "I can barely face you now. I'm not facing you to give you your things back." I tell him and I hear a choked cry. "Please don't do this. We can still be friends." He tells me and I laugh through my tears. "You can't call me a burden and say that shit line." I tell him. I turn around to see tears strolling down his face, barely any because of the fight he is putting up.
I finally cry and wrap my arms around him. He places his hand on my head and the other on my back, holding me where I was. "I'm so sorry" He whispers in my hair and I just sob into his shirt. He finally leaves when George calls him and I watch from my window the fireworks off in the distance. I sit down on my bed and feel myself break mentally. 'I don't know how I will do this on my own.' I think to myself staring at the pregnancy test I took yesterday. I was planning on telling him but when he clumped me in with his burdens, it was too hard. I just curl up into a ball crying until I fall asleep.
***
"HERMIONE HE'S DOING IT AGAIN- FINN" I yell as the baby flings his lunch at me. "SWITCH!" She yells back in the same worried tone. I grab Ginger my other newborn as she grab my spoon and place her on her tray. She fights me as I try to swaddle her and I plead her silently. I hear the doorbell ring and Hermione perks up. "Don't you dare-" She begins but I place Ginger in her cot and run out to see who it is.
I open the door and my breath hitches lightly. "Hey Y/n..." George says nervously. He looks up and does a double take. "A-Are you alright?" He stutters at my appearance. "Yeah just work getting ahead of me." I explain and he nods. "So... Watcha doing here? For the first time.. In a year..." I mumble the last part and he looks around confused. "Where's Hermione. She invited me saying something about needing to tell me something." He explains. "HERMIONE" I groan and she walks out and smiles at George. "You made it!" She exclaims and I point at her. "You're dead." I say and I run towards her angrily.
"WHAT THE HELL YOU CALLED GEORGE?!"
"LOOK I CAN'T TELL YOU ENOUGH THEY NEED A MALE INFLUENCE AND SURE AS HELL FRED WON'T BE IT SINCE YOU HAVE NO GUTS, HE'S THE BEST OPTION."
"I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN" I yell back and she sends a firm smack to the side of my head. "YOU ARE 19 YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO!" She yells back and George finally made it over to us confused as hell. "As much as I love the Granger sisters fighting over me... This is not what I had in mind." He points and I groan at the sound of Finn crying. "Look what you made me do." I tell her and she gasps starting to rant again. I walk into the baby's room. I smile sweetly at the boy crying in his cot.
"Hi baby..." I whisper and he gurgles at me smiling. I walk over and pick him up, rocking him lightly. I sit down on my rocker and he swiftly falls back asleep. I reach my free hand to poke inside of Ginger's cot, her hand wrapping around my finger. I smile at the two and hear a gasp. "Y/n-" He begins and I shush him softly, not taking my eyes off my baby boy. "He's asleep." I whisper, too distracted by my ginger baby to register what's going on.
"W-Who are the parents?" He asks kneeling in front of the rocker to rub a knuckle against his head lightly. "They're mine..." I whisper and look up, a tear dripping down my face that clearly gives away my happy smile. "What do you mean? Its only been a year since you two-" He stops realizing what happened. "Is this my nephew?" He asks smiling softly at him. "Maybe." I whisper and he looks at me smiling with tears sliding down his cheeks. "C-can I hold him? Or her?" He asks, guessing at the colors of their sleeping sacks. I smile sweetly getting up. I hand him Finn softly and he gasps at the size of the baby in his hands. "Y/n- You're 19. How- Why?" He asks and I sigh, rubbing my knuckle into Finn's chest lightly. "My sister has helped but honestly I don't know. It's been a crazy year." I explain. "I'm willing to help. Especially now." He tells me and I smile.
***
I pick up Ginger trying to put her shoes on her as she gurgles in protest. "Hey baby you gotta wear shoes now that you're walking, that's the deal." George explains and she gurgles lightly as if she understood. He's fighting Finn to get his shoes on and I finally put on Ginger's. "Tough ones we got here." He says, wiping sweat from his brow. His arm getting hit by a flying tantrum going on next to him. He looks at him and shakes his head chuckling. He scoops up the almost two year old in his arms and laughs. "He is a kicker." He tells me and we finally get them dressed. "Ugh we really need to stop bringing them to the shop, its getting risky." I tell him and he laughs as if I said the best joke ever. "There is no way these kids are being raised without knowing the joke shop, and plus Fred is off on Wednesdays." He explains and I nod curtly.
We walk to the shop talking about the kids who are settled on our hips. "So I will take up cleaning tomorrow if you bring them to the park the next day and I think there might be a Hermione visit. And I bought some baby food with solid because I don't know if they will still like it-" I begin but get cut off by George chuckling. "You are overthinking this. You are a great mum and if they won't eat solid,  you have a blender." He explains and I nod. He's been amazing at calming my anxiety when it come to the kids. He took the role as helpful uncle and comes over all the time but makes sure he doesn't overstep. I make my way inside the shop and he makes his way to customers. I get to the till having Ginger in her stroller next to me. Every hour he switches with me saying they need time with their mama.
The shop finally closes and he helps me with the stroller up the steps. We quickly make our way to the room and Ginger gets up waddling to his bed. I fold his clothes as they play on the bed. I hear a muffled conversation as me and the kids stay quiet. He walks in and Finn gasps reaching out for him. He hands him the milk and Ginger whines until we pass the milk quickly to her. She lays on her back playing with her feet as she drinks her milk.
"These kids..." He laughs. He grabs Finn and opens the door. "Fred's gone don't worry. He will be for the next hour." He tells me to my worried expression. I nod and he comes back with Finn in a new diaper and hands him to me. "He has been kicking me lately. The little bugger." He says rubbing his arm. I laugh and nuzzle my nose against his. "He's obviously like his father." I state and he nods smiling.
***
I make my way into the shop searching for George as the two toddlers point out everything. I hear Ginger gasp and bolt. I run after her clutching on to Finn. I look around scared as shit I lost my baby. When I hear someone talking to her.
"UNCLE RORGE!" I hear her squeal and I laugh realizing she found her uncle. "What sweetheart? Where's your mother?" I hear a voice ask laughing. "Uncle Rorgeeee. You promised me you would bring treats!!" She complains as I look for the aisle they're in. "I'm sorry little one but I'm not George. I'm Fred. What's your name?" He asks and I freeze. "Isn't Red daddy's name?" Finn asks and I can't answer. He slides out of my grasp, obviously knowing where Ginger is. I yell after him and see the man Ginger was talking to. I gasp lightly and she's giggling.
"Uncle Rorge that's not your name! Your name is Rorge. R-O- MUMMY! I FOUND UNCLE RORGE." She points out. "There's your mum. Hello ma'am- Y/n?" He asks confused. "C'mon Ginger. Uncle George is probably somewhere." I say not answering I pick her up as she cries saying Uncle George is right in front of her. I quickly scoop Finn up and quickly walk to find George. "Y/n! What- Crap its Wednesday." He says shocked. He grabs Finn from my hands and bounces him lightly. "UNCLE RORGE TEL-TELR- HE USED A PORTAL" Ginger tries and I nod rubbing her hands. "You- Oh no- Oh shit- Oh sorry-" George stutters. "I'm going to hide in your office now-" I state and he grabs my hand. "You need to face him. He is their father." He tells me and I wipe a tear from my eyes. "I can't George. Not yet." I say and he drops my hand nodding. "C'mon then." He tells me and I walk to the office with him.
I hear banging on the door and it finally opens. "Y/n-" He gasps and I ignore him playing with Ginger. "Y/nnnn" I hear him say again. "Yes Fredrick?" I ask and he tugs my shoulder playfully and George walks in. "Great, your on babysitting duty." I say and George tries to protest but I try and bolt. Fred stops me. He moves carefully so I can't get past him. "A-Are you sheep dogging me?" I ask and he shrugs. "If it works. Now when did Y/n Granger start babysitting?" He asks and I try to move past him. "Two years ago. When you broke my heart, remember that?" I ask and his smile turns into a frown. "I've been trying to get a hold of you. Every day for an hour I question Hermione or someone." He tells me and I laugh. "Anyways- I need to-"
"MUMMY FINN 'OOK MY BLANKET!!!" Ginger screeches. I turn around and George is trying to help the best he can. "I- They fight over everything-" He tries and I laugh walking over. "C'mere baby." I say to Finn. I take the blanket from his hands and he sobs. I grab the dummy and pop it in his mouth, calming him instantly. "Mummy?" He asks and I sigh. "They're two." I explain. I watch the gears turn in his head. "I- No- Wait- Are- What- No-" He stutters, shocked. "Yep. Meet Ginger and Finn Weasley- Well Granger-Weasley. Felt wrong to take the fathers name out." I explain and he collapses to his knees. "UNCLE RORGE! THERE ARE TWO!!!" Ginger states, finally looking around.
***
"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummyyyy." I hear Finn complain next to me. "Yes light of my life?" I ask sighing. "When's daddy coming? And when's dinner? And why are bananas curved? And why are me and Ginger's hair red when yours is brown? Do we get that from Daddy? Where is daddy?" He questions. "Finny- Baby- Daddy is coming in twenty minutes. Dinner will be done in an hour. I don't know, I need to google it. Yes daddy gave you ginger hair. And on his way." I explain turning so we can google it together. "Ok so bananas are curved so they can get sun." I explain. He nods and slides out of my lap. "Thank you mummy!" He yells behind him as he runs.
The doorbell rings and I open it to see Fred. I give him a quick hug as we all sit down for dinner, Fred answering all of Finn's wild questions as I listen to Ginger tell me its paghetti not spaghetti. We all finish and I clean the dishes while Fred reads them a story. He walks out and sighs laughing. "Ginger just had a long ass argument about how an elephant not a giraffe was in  Africa. She does not realize that she can't read." He tells me and I laugh. "She refuses to admit it. Yesterday she tried reading to Finn. Pride and Prejudice was a ballsy move." I explain and he laughs. "My girl would do that." He says. "Want to watch a movie?" He asks and I sigh. "Fred you need to head home soon." I tell him and he nods sighing. "I know... But can't two friends watch the thrilling and sexy adventure of- Aurora?" He says picking up a random tape.
I laugh and take the tape shaking my head. "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea Fred." I tell him, poking his nose. "Then let's make it the correct idea." He boldly puts. I chuckle taking the blankets from the couch. "What do you mean Fred?" I ask and he moves to hold my arms lightly. "I want to be yours. And- And I want you to be mine." He states and I look at him shocked. "Don't do this Fred." I whisper and his smile falters for a second. "Do what?" He asks softly.
"Don't do this." I say circling my arms between us. "Fred I love you but based off of three years ago, you don't love me. And I finally found my peace with that. But please. Please do not say you love me when I know you don't. I love that you are such an amazing father that you would throw yourself into an unhappy relationship just for them. But I can't. I don't want fake. I want your real love. And I won't allow myself to accept the man I love to say he loves me when he doesn't." I rant and he pulls me closer. "That's not why I'm saying that. Please." He whispers the last part, placing his forehead against mine. "Fred. I'm not going to be a burden again. That's why I couldn't tell you about those two amazing kids in there. I'm not using them as a way to have you again." I say and he looks at me with hurt eyes. "At least allow me a movie. Just a movie. I don't care if you say I don't love you when I do. But I just want to hold you again." He whispers and I sigh. "A movie."
I sit down on the couch and he slides next to me. "I do love you, more than the world." He whispers and I feel my eyes sting from tears trying to leave. I hear Ginger cry and I get up instinctively. "She's been having bad dreams lately." I tell him wrapping my jacket around myself. "Sit down. I got her." He tells me and I nod sighing.
I hear the baby monitor register him entering their room and I grab it to see what's going on.
"Daddy!" She sobs clutching to her fathers shirt. "Hey little one. What's wrong?" He asks calmly, wiping her face. "I had a bad dream. I got up and Finn was gone and mummy and you. Then there was a dragon and it chased me!" She sobs and he holds her close nodding. "Look baby. There's Finn. And mummy is right in the living room." He assures her. "But every time I wake up you aren't here anymore. You always leave. Why can't you stay? Mummy makes pancakes every Wednesday and she tells us they used to be your favorite. And- And why don't you stay?" She cries into his shirt, breaking his heart. "I'm so so sorry baby. I would stay. I would. But I can't right now. But I promise I will be one day." He tries. "Why don't you and mummy have rings?" She suddenly asks and he looks at her confused. "What do you mean baby?" He asks and she digs her face into his shirt more. "Sophie's mummy and daddy have rings. And they always hug. Why do you and  mummy not do that?" She asks and he smiles at her softly. "Because mummy and daddy are a little different than Sophie's." He tells her and she pouts. "Don't you love mummy?" She asks and he sighs. "I do baby. Very much. But some things are harder than others. But I promise. I will always be here for you. And I am so sorry for all that lost time but I promise, I will make it up to you." He whispers. They stay there quietly hugging until Ginger finally drops her head, quietly sleeping. He smiles laying her on the bed assigned to her and tucks her in softly. "God I love you. More than the world." He whispers, almost exactly how he said to Y/n moments before, with the same look in his eyes. Love.
I wipe my eyes hearing him walk out. His eyes are puffy but he shows no sign of sadness on his face. "Fred?" I whisper and he looks over smiling. "Yes?" He asks and I sigh. "Make me a promise." I tell him and he nods confused. "If I do this. You have to promise me. Do you actually love me or do you just love our children?" I ask and he laughs. "I love you all. Y/n you are the love of my life. Why are you asking this?" He asks and I finally kiss him. He perks up in surprise but he slowly melts into it. "God I love you so much." He whisper in between the kiss. Finally we break away chuckling as he smiles at me. "Want to watch our movie now? I was told there are some sexy adventures in Sleeping Beauty." I ask and he chuckles sitting down on the couch. "I also wanted to say, I might have promised a ring in the future." He suddenly says and I laugh holding up the baby monitor. "Shit I forgot we had that." He laughs and I kiss hiss jaw lightly. "Guess I caught you." I whisper and he laughs.
***
I wake up in my bed thinking last night was a far-fetched dream and smell smoke. "Fuck he is too much like his father." I whisper to myself. I run out and the twins are no where to be seen. I see Fred and he is throwing toast in the trash sadly. "Watcha doing?" I ask and he looks up sighing. "Trying to make breakfast..." He groans sitting down. I walk over and rubs his shoulders as he hums lightly. "Its Wednesday you blessing of a man." I whisper and he chuckles nodding. He turns, puckering his lips and I kiss him quickly. "Get the two arsonists awake please." I say as I grab a pan. He groans moving closer to me. "Why ruin the fun so early?" He asks, his hands sliding around my waist. He kisses my neck as I lean my head away slightly. "Mmm... As much as I would love to, the muffling spell is going to drop at any given moment and Finn is a light sleeper. The boy will tell Ginger we didn't wake them up and they will plot." I explain and he laughs at the thought.
"DADDY!" I hear Ginger yell and Finn runs out to find me. "DADDY'S HERE!" He tells me and I gasp. "He is?! Does that mean we should make french toast?!" I ask and Finn tugs my pyjama bottoms. "NOOO WE NEED TO MAKE PANCAKES!!!!" He whines and I laugh nodding. "FINN! CMONNNN" Ginger yells as she pulls Fred behind her. "COMING! WE'RE WATCHING TV WITH DADDY!" He tells me and I smile. "Go on then!" I tell him.
I finish making pancakes and we all eat together. Fred gets up and Ginger grabs him. "What baby?" He asks and she shoves her face into his leg. "You're leaving aren't you?" Finn asks and he smiles at Ginger, picking her up. "Just to the bathroom. Me and mummy thought you two would like a daddy day. I'm staying here for the whole day." He says winking at me. They all cheer and he moves over to kiss the top of my head and walking to the bathroom. "Mummy..." Ginger whispers. "Yes?" I ask in the same hushed tone. "Daddy kissed you." She tells me and I nod. "Yes he did." I whisper and she giggles happily.
***
I wake up to feel Fred moving around. "What are you doing?" I ask sleepily and he kisses my head. "Finn peed his bed, I got it though." He whispers and lays down next to me. "Does he need a bath?" I ask and he laughs. "Covered." He tells me and I smile nuzzling into his arm. "My hero." I mumble and he chuckles. I start to feel woozy and I rush out of bed. "Darling?" He yells behind me. I throw up into the toilet as I feel my body shake. He rushes in and grabs my hair into a ponytail. "Darling! Oh my god this is why you don't let me make meals." He tells me and I laugh weakly.
"I feel like now is a brilliant time to tell you. I might be pregnant." I tell him smiling. "Surprise..." I whisper doing weak jazz hands.
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mcwriting · 4 years ago
Text
it's just part of the job
This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!
Ship: Tom Holland x Reader
Word Count: 1248
Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff
><
You were exhausted, to be frank.
It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.
The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.
Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.
You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.
Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.
The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.
Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.
Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.
You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.
You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.
"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.
He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.
You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.
Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.
Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.
"Think I look good, eh?"
"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.
When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.
"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.
"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.
"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.
"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"
You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.
"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.
It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.
The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.
"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.
You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.
"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.
"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"
You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.
><
Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.
When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:
"It's just part of the job"
As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.
Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.
"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.
In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.
"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.
When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.
Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.
Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.
He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.
He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.
Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.
The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.
"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.
"It's okay. How did it go?"
"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."
"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.
"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.
You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.
"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.
"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.
"Good night, darling. I love you, too."
><
A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!
Thanks for reading!
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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago
Text
Forced Marriage II
Hello!! The awaited second part is here! Refresh memory here
Thank you so much for waiting and I promise, one more chapter and this trilogy is done. Also I already have the idea and ending, so it's going to be fast.
A/n : I cried in the middle of writing this. A bit too carried away by the emotion of explaining (y/n)'s abusive father. I cried like cried a lot and sobbed. Blew my nose and wiped my eyes but as I type tears keep falling (I hope I am not the only one crying)
trigger warning : character's death
tagging : @yutahoes @neopalette @swagmonsterofficial @byunniebaekhyunnie @huniehoeee
writing net : @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet
“Good morning Mam, is (y/n) awake?" Baekhyun greets the young lady watering the small garden on the front porch.
“Oh Baekhyun! What is it that makes you come early in the morning? And No she hasn't” your mother looks at the young energetic man in front of her. Memories flash by her eyes when she still remembers Baekhyun being the small cheerful boy from next door. Puberty does hit him well, your mother thought.
“Did you bump your head last time mam?” Baekhyun playfully asks, he knows your mother close enough to crack jokes and secretly your mother loves his playful jokes.
“Oh Baekhyun, you’ve never changed! Always the fun silly careless boy from next door. Now, I know you’re here to deliver milk right?” your mom takes a peek at the truck Baekhyun’s brother is handling.
Well the Byun family owns a farm and supplies milk and eggs to this town and the neighboring town. They’re a well known family for it.
“Do you mind if we get one more bottle? We have guests today.” Your mother takes out her wallet to pay for the milk and Baekhyun nods “We have plenty today! I’m glad your guest gets to taste this town’s best milk. Who is this lucky guest mam?” Baekhyun asks as he puts the milk down to the front patio.
Your mother comes back with some cash and gives it to Baekhyun along with a basket of fresh bread she just baked this morning.
“It’s your favorite bread. I see there’s a lot of deliveries today.” your mom smiles seeing the truck full of eggs and milks.
Baekhyun nods “Yes, business is doing good.”
“Oh about the guest, well he’s (y/n)’s future fiance. Hope you can meet him soon and be friends with him. He’s a nice guy, like you Baekhyunie.” your mother taps his nose like she used to when Baekhyun was nine.
Baekhyun’s smile falls when he hears “(y/n)’s future fiance.” what is this? Why has he never heard the news from you?
He has a lot to ask but his brother already honks the horn and Baekhyun comes back to his senses
“Come over for dinner or lunch next time Baekhyun!” your mother offers a polite invitation to the young lad and Baekhyun puts on his smile again as he bows “Thank you and I’ll see you soon mam.” he waves goodbye and jumps into the free seat next to his brother.
“Have a nice day you two!” your mother sends the Byun brothers off and descends to the kitchen with the fresh milk.
“Baekhyunie,” she sighs and hides a small smile “Always charming and sweetheart, some lady will be lucky to have him one day.”
--
Baekhyun’s brother hears everything, but he is not aware of the romantic feelings both you and Baekhyun share. He only knows the relationship between his brother and you is platonic.
“Look at (y/n), it’s like only yesterday their family moved in and both of you are so young. Running around carelessly, getting bruises from trying to climb trees, and woop she’s engaged now. When will you get a fiancee Baek?” his brother jokes around and wiggles his eyebrow to Baekhyun who only keeps his head on the road by the window
He sighs “I don’t know, why don't you get married first. You’re the brother here.” he scorns
You spend the day waiting for your neighbor’s head to pop up on the window but until lunch he’s not back yet. Your mother told you he’s away to the town and the neighboring town for the day but usually by afternoon they’re back. There’s nothing much for you to do since Sehun bid farewell and said he’ll return next week with the plans all ready and the wedding can happen soon. You don’t even have to buy a dress because your mother wants you to use hers, since its the tradition. You scoff in your mind, when do you ever have a chance to make a choice?
Even something as simple as what outfit to wear to meet someone, your mother won’t let you choose by yourself
Tea time makes you finally move your butt from sitting next to the window. His room window is still shut closed and the truck is still not home. Did something happen to them? Your worry disappears when the truck comes into your sight but you already got yourself dragged out of your room by your mom.
Baekhyun washes his body quickly and climbs up to his room after faking a smile to his parents. His brother is busy counting today’s revenue but Baekhyun opens his window and sits down only to stare at yours which was still open.
He can see your room, how the lights are on and he knows that means you were dragged out and you didn't have the chance to turn the lights off.
He sighs and closes his curtain, watching your empty room already makes it hard for him to breathe. What about the day when you will move into Sehun’s house?
Judging by his car yesterday, Baekhyun knows he is from the city and he is rich. Will Baekhyun be able to wake up in the morning knowing that the reason he wakes up everyday is now taken away from him? Not that he can actually say “taken away” since he never claims you as his.
You sit uncomfortably on your chair. Your father keeps on talking about this wedding. He doesn't even realize he’s indirectly saying “I am marrying you to Sehun just for the sake of my business so it won’t crumble down and you’ll live a good life after I die.”
Your ear burns with every single word your father rambles. Yes you grew up with his strict rules, you got hit several times but this… setting up your marriage and pressing on you to accept it as his last wish hurts the most.
“I don’t love Sehun.” you try to speak up your voice.
Your dad chuckles as he sips on his tea “I never said this marriage is based on love.”
You gulp and look at your mom with your red eyes. You’re ready to cry and scream here that you’re tired of your life being controlled but your mother shakes his head gently with a pleading look and you don't want to hurt her feelings so you keep your lips shut.
--
Life feels like hell after Sehun’s constant mail filled with questions of which flower you want, what color you want his tie to be and whatever useless question he asks (it’s useless because you don’t intend to bother thinking of which color or flower for a wedding you don’t want).
Since the day Sehun left, you’ve never met Baekhyun too and that is odd. Something about the way his window is always closed when you wake up, how he never pops his head randomly at the window, his constant busy days that you don’t hear any knock of pebbles on your window and the disappearing sunshine in your life.
Your wedding invitation is distributed already to everyone that’s within the inner circle and in your hand now lies one more invitation you can’t bring yourself to hand.
“Byun family” was written on the addressed invitation. You hold the invitation in your hand and almost drop it when your mother suddenly enters your room and questions you with “Whose invitation is that you’re still holding?”
You gulp “Baekhyun’s” your voice croaks and your mother nods.
“Why are you not giving it to them?” she sits down next to you and runs a hand on your hair.
“I haven't seen him and I want to give it to him.” you lie. Well to be honest, you’d rather have your mom deliver this to his mother but you need an excuse to meet Baekhyun and he’s been gone so you need to see him. At least see him before you are married to another man you barely know.
--
Early in the next morning, you wake up to the noise from the window. You open the blinds, looking to find the ruckus and that's when your eyes pop open. There you see Baekhyun jumping around the garden and his family are just smiling and patting his back. You saw a white envelope in his hand and you're trying to remember if he ever tells you about waiting any good news. No, Baekhyun never tells you anything. You open your window and pop your head out waiting for the happy man to notice you and maybe share the good news with you, but until he climbs into his room, he didn't spare you a glance and instead he's calling someone and you're sure that is Chanyeol.
You tried to eavesdrop but it's impossible despite the close distant, someone was using the blender downstairs. Annoyed, you toss some rock to his direction but it all doesn't hit him.
Now, you're mad. What made him ignore you, was it that carnival night incident? After that you never met him… so is that why he is still ignoring you?
You wave and try to get his attention, to which he completely didn't see. Alas, your mother calls you for breakfast and you have to go.
The sweet smell of waffles make you smile and lighten up your sour mood.
"What's the good news in Baekhyun's house?" You ask your mom when she looks like she knows something.
She smiles as she sips her tea "Oh didn't you hear? He was auditioning for a record company and well he sent his tape and he won the offer. The company wants him to move to the town this weekend and they will begin his contract and discuss his debut. Oh that Baekhyun!" Your mom wipes a tear that fell, as if he is her son and she is so damn proud.
Your father smiles "Good fella, he sure will make it big. I remember him singing in the town hall when he was eleven! Good vocal, good looks, easy personality. I think the company made a good decision."
Both your parents are so happy, but you… something inside your heart is furious. How come he never tells you about this, will he leave you? Leave you for a dream that might flop!
You hide your feelings during breakfast and after cleaning up, you sneak out to knock on Baekhyun's window.
The mischievous grin you memorize by heart appears in the window and he gladly opens it up so you can climb in.
"What makes you climb in my window?" He calmly asks. His stupid smile still there as if he didn't do any mistakes and he was surprised you are here.
You sigh "You lied."
He shrugs his shoulders "You lied first."
You scrunch your brow "What do you mean?!"
He sits down and you copy him "Well, you didn't tell me the truth that you are engaged."
You froze and he slaps your back "Guess my proposal last time wasn't good. Congratulations." He tried to joke it off but you are tearing up.
"Don't congratulate me. I don't know him and I don't love him."
Baekhyun sighs "It's father again isn't it?" He places a comforting arm around you and you bury your face in his chest. Crying your heart out and calming you down.
"I'm sorry honey, I couldn't propose wealth to your father and I couldn't even ask your hand for marriage with a diamond ring. I'm sure that lucky guy has so many to offer you." He rubs your hair but his words sting more and you punch him "I don't need that. I just want to be with you."
"Well, we can still be friends." He tries to hold his emotion back at the word friends.
"But I want you as my husband! I love you." You stare into his eyes and see his eyes smile "I just need to hear that. I also love you."
"And you are not telling me that you auditioned for that singing company!" You punch his chest again.
Baekhyun giggles "Sorry, I heard your mom said about the fiance and I was so sad and mad at myself for not claiming you first… so that made me send my audition tape because I thought that you're going to be his and it'll hurt me."
"So you're leaving me with that man. You run!" You let out a breather
Baekhyun bites his lips "Well, I have to chase my dream like you always said."
"My dream is to be a singer." Baekhyun stands up and shows you the acceptance letter.
You read it through the tears "This is so far away Baek."
"Well, but it's a step closer to singing in stage!" He stares at you with passionate energy in his eyes and you couldn't bring yourself to beg for him to just stay here and be your neighbor so you can at least wake up and see him and feel less bad.
"Now, I have to leave this Sunday. Do you want to spend the rest of the week with me?"
You nod and hide the invitation behind your back. No he shouldn't know that you're getting married. Let him think he is only your fiance that won't hurt him.
"It's Tuesday already, we have 5 days."
You wipe your tears and lock your eyes to the ecstatic boy.
"Later i will write songs about you! About our friendship and about our memories. I'll make money and I can get you that diamond ring and we can host a wedding you love! The simple one in a garden." He pretends he is walking down the aisle and you just want to disappear. No one should break his heart but if he must get his heart broken why must it be from you?
"So, (y/n) wait for me okay. Don't get feelings with this man."
You scoff, Baekhyun doesn't even know the man's name.
"And then one day I will return to you and we can live like our dream." He takes your hands into his and twirls you around the room. You laugh and giggle, feeling alive from the small action you missed.
He ends with hugging you and you wish so hard that life could change its path and you can be with Baekhyun.
"Congratulations Baekhyun!" You whisper
--
5 days. 5 days to Baekhyun's departure and 6 to your wedding.
Day 1, you rush your fitting and got to spend the afternoon walking to the rose garden near the forest.
Day 2, Baekhyun starts packing and you're using the chance to practice your wedding speech and your walk. The afternoon was spent together strolling around down town
Day 3, You had to pick the dress up and Baekhyun had to legalize some of his documents. You sneak to his rooftop that night, both of you just sitting and enjoying the starry nigh.
Day 4, You help him pack only for him to realize your body has bruises. He stops you from helping and folds your sleeves "What else did you do?"
You shake your head and unfold the sleeve trying to shake it off saying it's just a small problem but Baekhyun could see the fear in your eyes and he knows you're lying.
"Wait for me, I'll save you. I promise." He pulls you into a hug and for the first time, you press a deep kiss into his lips.
Day 5, You hand him the invitation and you're glad you kissed him last night because right now all you can see is your feet and how Baekhyun's hand trembles. His hair hides his eyes but from the way his lips shake and his body shakes, you know he is furious and disappointed at you.
"I am sorry." You whisper
"Why not sooner." He asks, his voice so bitter and dry. His eyes still avoid yours.
"I want to spend my time with you before you go."
"But why you keep this invitation until today?!" His voice cracked and you cried. This time, he doesn't console or calm you down. He lets you cry alone
He closes the invitation "You could've given me sooner and I won't be promising you all those dreams. Now I sound like the jerk who made promises to a girl who will be married in two days! Grow up (y/n)! If I knew this-"
You cut him off "If you knew this, you'd avoid me Baek! And I wouldn't want to waste my precious 5 days to be with you. Heck who knows if this might be the last time we see each other." You're furious too and Baekhyun shakes his head "What are you talking about. We're adults! I'll definitely accept the news like a mature man. I won't give you the silent treatment."
You scoff "You would. I know you Baekhyun."
"And if you know me… do you know that because you did this, i am now so i don't know… i'm " he pauses
"You hate me?" You ask that
He shakes his head and stomps his leg "I love you okay! But this is not right! I'll. You know what?" He couldn't speak right and couldn't think straight
"This will make my departure easier. You do know artists cannot date and I'll be busy. Well, now I won't have the reason to think about you and our dream. You're going to be with him forever and i? I will be the fool who didn't know you're already someone else's. Goodbye. And congrats."
"No Baekhyun. Please, sorry. I cannot do anything!"
"Yes I know. You're just too afraid of everything your father said. You can't fight for yourself and oh I'm tired okay! If you told me earlier, we could think of a way to stop this. But now it's too late! I'm leaving tomorrow and your wedding is ready! Don't make yourself an embarrassment by canceling the date. Go, live your silver spoon life. Goodbye (y/n) it was nice knowing you."
Baekhyun steps inside his house, closes the door and you're there staring at the floor, eyes still wet.
He's right . It's too late.
You force yourself to go home and well, you didn't even get to send him a proper goodbye.
--
Baekhyun just left like that, with a simple goodbye from the window and he’s gone. You are also preoccupied by the busy preparation for the big day tomorrow that you don’t have time to ask Baekhyun about his arrival or well updates.
While drowning in the sadness of losing Baekhyun, your best friend, your love, and your dream, you have no soul left when you have to recite the vows. The wedding bells deafen your ears, the smile from the guests blind your eyes and when Sehun kisses your lips, your tears fall because Baekhyun’s right everything is too late to be fixed.
You’re glad Sehun didn’t force you to sleep with him on the first night. He respects your decision and you sleep peacefully that night, mostly because you’re tired of thinking and the day is tiring.
Your morning wasn’t any difference than before, despite living in a house not far from home, you didn’t feel any difference. Well, Sehun is as stoic as your dad, his morning is filled with coffee, newspapers, and him checking his agenda.
“We will be busy this week, your dad wants to move the company ownership to us, you will follow me to the office. Go dress up smart and I’ll see you in the car an hour from now, is that enough?” he asks and you nod.
The maids here clean up the table as Sehun leaves to fetch his documents and working bag and you just hope Baekhyun will reply to any of your texts.
The paperwork takes your whole one week, office paperworks, house ownership, marriage legalization and well with your father’s health deteriorating it’s been hard for everyone to keep signing papers when father is in the hospital. Your father has already prepared his last wills and all beneficiaries.
You finally get news from Baekhyun’s mother saying that he already signed the contracts and the company loves him and wants to make a great debut for him. He’s preparing to write songs and he is arranged to debut in two years if he is good.
One month after being Oh Sehun’s wife, you begin to see a difference in your husband’s attitude. Yes he can be a caring man, his cold facade is slowly gone, but the sly look in his face is still there. You don’t know what but something in your guts say that this is just the calm before the storm. Your father’s condition gets worse and the hospital announces that he will probably have months left. You take turn with your mom in looking after dad. He’s in the bedroom lying down half alive, the machines keep his heart pumping and the oxygen tube in his nose forces oxygen into his lungs. You feel bad for him, despite all the pain you grew up with, your dad was a responsible person who never leaves you and your mom.
“I am sorry (y/n) for being a bad father. I hope you forgive me and I hope your future will be good.” he said that one afternoon when he saw you crying on his side. You were crying because you were telling him your heart about how he hurts you but he was trying his best for his family.
“I am sorry I cannot be your ideal daughter.” you hold his hand and he smiles weakly, “You’re all I would ask for. I love you and mom so much but I’m just so bad am I not? I hit you a lot.”
You cry harder, “It was because you care about me.”
He shakes his head “I shouldnt have been that hard. You’re a flower after all, we need to handle you with care”
“But you trained me to be a warrior dad. And whatever storm I will face one day, I will be thankful that you beat me as a kid so that I won’t just cry and accept fate if things go wrong.”
Your father lets another tear fall “I hope you don’t have to experience that time, but if you have to, I know I prepared you well.”
You hold into his hand tighter “I forgive you dad. Do you forgive me?”
He smiles “I never hate you love, I always forgive your mistakes every night before I sleep. I just have to punish you so you know that everything comes with consequences.”
You nod “I’ll remember that, how are you feeling dad?”
He coughs “Feeling like a sinner confessing his sins, but I’m glad I have time to tell you this.”
You kiss his hand and he takes a deep breath. “Be happy my flower, use the wealth for good stuff, and always help others. Remember that everything takes process.”
Your mom comes into the room and when the golden sun rays kiss your dad’s face, he glances to you and your mom. His sincere smile blooms and both you and your mom hold his hands, he takes one deep breath “My job here is done, I love you both.” he lets a big exhale and there goes your father. A great man who just can’t express his love in the best way.
Come to think of it, he is always coming home whenever he can. He tries to go home fast so he can eat dinner together. He only starts breakfast when all the chairs are filled. He taught you how to use a screwdriver, he taught you chess so you can beat your nosy friends. He helped you ride your bike. He’s the one who pays all of your living cost and not for once has he made you worried about what the family will eat for today. When life wasn’t as easy as this, he made sure you can still get a new dress on special days and he tries his best to bring you to the circus tour. Wealth came to your father when he was old and you were a young adult, and now he doesn’t have the time to enjoy it too much but he gave it all to you.
Baekhyun trained so hard day and night. His will and desire to be an artist beat all of his homesickness and exhaustion. He always appears in the training room with a big smile even though he has to go home half asleep. The company loves his attitude and promises a lot of good things for him. The boy just smiles, saying he’ll be happy as long as his dream of being an artist comes true. He heard about your dad’s death from his family and actually came home to join the funeral. He saw you but you were too sad to notice him and so he disappeared the next day. He noticed you moved back into your mother’s house because you don’t want her to feel alone. Sehun lets you do that, and because your mom insisted Sehun to also stay there, now the three of you live under the same roof.
Two years after your father’s death, Baekhyun has his debut. Well, it has to be delayed because the company saw that it’s going to be better to debut in Summer than in Fall. His hard work paid off when you finally see his name rising in charts and appearing in music shows. His hair is no longer boring, it’s painted silver white and you never think Baekhyun will look hot as an old man, but here you see him looking so handsome and lively as he finally gets to sing on a stage for thousands of audience. He was labeled as the successful rookie and he’s been offered a lot of advertisements and special appearances. You’re happy whenever you hear the town people talk about his name, or when the radio turns on his song. You missed him, you always text him but he rarely replies.
Everything seems going according to plan, but your guts were right. Those days were just the calm before the storm.
To be continued….
“(Y/n), come to the hospital now.”
“(Y/n) a package is here for you.”
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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years ago
Text
Their Doll 4
Y/n Stark
B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader
series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.
Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing
Chapter Summary: the avengers find some stuff out about y/n
Warnings: swearing
A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)
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"SO there's some weird HYDRA girl locked and sedated in my basement? Cool, don't want to know." Tony dismissed, not looking up from his white mug as he tipped a generous amping of sugar into his black coffee. He swirled the liquid in the mug and turned around, leaning against the counter as he raised the drink to lips lips and took a sip before sighing intently. Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Tony, I don't think you get it, I ran a DNA test and-"
"And she's probably some innocent girl that went missing years ago and was never found? I get it, I feel bad for her but at the end of the day she has nothing to do with me." Tony dismissed, pushing away from the counted to deposit his now-empty mug in the sink. He turned the tap on, rinsing out the cup before carelessly placing it on the drying rack.
"Just, please, come and see her. You won't regret it, and if you do - dinner's on me?" Bruce suggest, arms outstretched in welcome. Tony rolled his eyes, before scoffing.
"Yeah, no. I'm good. Catch you in the lab later though?" Tony was quick to deflect, exiting the room with so much as another glance. Bruce's hands feel to his side with a slap as his shoulders sagged in defeat.
...
Bruce nervously paced the lab, desperate to tell someone his horrifying discovery. The click of the door made his head snap up, a smile of relief spreading his on lips at the sight of Nat.
"Nat, finally." He sighed, walking towards the scowling girl.
"What did you need to tell me Bruce? You sounded pretty urgent when you called." She pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. His smile faulted, his gaze dropping to his hands where he fondled with a biro pen.
"I- uh. I made a... discovery about y/n." Bruce confessed, finally meeting Nat's eyes.
"Go on.." Nat prompted. Bruce took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Bruce-" she started.
"Y/n isn't entirely human-"
"Well we knew that much."
"It's what she is, that's shocking. Looking threw all her blood tests and whatnot - it's showing she has an ability to manipulate minds when she s-sings. It's like a certain note her voice forms that can control the minds of people around her."
"So what is she?"
"I don't know, there's not really a name-"
"A siren. She's a siren." A third voice joined the room, and both the avengers' heads snapped round to the direction it came from. In the door stood Steve, shoulder leant against the frame and ankles crossed.
"Who's watching y/n?" Nat asked.
"Clint. Anyway, my father - he used to read me a story when I was a kid. The Odyssey, I believe it was called. It was a Greek myth about a bewitching girl who lured saloons in with her voice so she could feed off them." Steve continued, pushing himself off the door frame and walking further into the room.
"There's no way that's real, though." Nat dismissed, frowning heavily at his words.
"No, no. He has a point - I mean, look at Steve. Look at me." Bruce said, gesturing to himself and Steve. "We shouldn't be possible, but science does some crazy things. Y/n was with HYDRA, right?"
"Yes, but-"
"Well, what if they did this to her. We know she was taken when she was young, so what if they did so to experiment on her?"
"I should go talk to her, you know - girl on girl. She seems to like me, maybe she knows what she is and she might open up to me, if I ask nicely." Nat suggests, walking out the room when she was met with no protests from the two men.
"There's something else I should mention." Bruce started fidgeting again, which man Steve's brown knit together.
"What is it, Bruce?" The super-soldier prompted. Bruce continued to fidget, not looking up from him hands as he spoke.
"Are you aware Tony used to have daughter?" Bruce asked sheepishly.
"Tony had a daughter?" Steve said, brows now raised with genuine shock. He knew of Tony's...escapades from before he was with Pepper, but he couldn't see Tony as the type to actually keep a child from just a one-night stand.
"She was adopted, some kid he found on the streets with no parents. So he took her in, raised her and then she just disappeared. Many people have forgotten she existed, and those that remember her are all under the impression that she is dead. I thought so too, until..." Bruce paused, flipping through some papers on his clipboard until he found what he was looking for. "Until this." He finished, handing the board over to Steve.
In Steve's hands was proof that matched y/n's DNA to that of Tony's adopted daughter.
"Well that explains the name, and her hesitation to tell us who she really is." Steve frowned, eyes scanning over the paper repeatedly. Bruce hummed in agreement, taking the clipboard back from Steve when he held it out for Bruce to take. "Do we tell Tony?" Steve asked after a moment.
"He doesn't want to know, I've tried telling him but he doesn't care." Bruce told Steve and Steve pressed his lips together as he thought. "I do think we should wake her up though. If she's Tony's daughter there can't be anything that's more dangerous about her than you expect her attitude." Bruce said and Steve nodded, suppressing a laugh.
"I'll tell Nat to wake her up." Steve said as he exited the lab.
...
The steam from the shower engulfed me, my hands running through my hair and brushing out the tangles lightly. As I scrubbed the shampoo from my scalp, I hummed a small tune - thankful to be somewhere noisy enough that I wouldn't risk affecting anyone with my powers. After waking me up Nat told me to clean up and get changed before handing me a pile of clothes and telling me that she would meet me at my room in half an hour to take me to meet the rest of the team.
Shutting the water off, I slid the glass door open and my feet padded onto the thin bath-mat. The towel wrapped around me as I patted my hair dry with another one, looking over my scarred figure in the large mirror opposite me.
A large scar spanned the width of my stomach, smaller remnants of cuts littering my thighs that were joined by one larger one from where I was once stabbed. Looking at myself over my shoulder, I observed the large scars that spanned over my back, the layers fading at different degrees from their varying ages. The memory of how I got them brought tears to my eyes, which I was quick to blink away and focus back onto what I was doing.
Pulling the large sweatshirt Steve had lent me over my head, I left the large bathroom clad in a pair of leggings and some socks I borrowed from Nat. I brushed my fingers through my wet locks, detangling them. I threw the towel onto the bed in the room I had been assigned and plopped down next to it, taking my time to survey the room I barely got a look of earlier.
The door to the en-suite bathroom I just exited sat on one side of the room, accompanied by a big closet and a dressing table. A chest of draws was propped next to the king sized bed the sat in and the free corner housed a small kitchen. It had a stove, fridge-freezer, sink and a few cabinets. On the side sat a kettle, toaster, blender and some chopping boards.
A sharp knock on the door bought me back to my senses, making me perk up a little at the sound of Nat's voice.
"You feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good, well Steve and Bruce want you to meet them in conference room 4. I'll take you." She quickly added the last part in seeing my scared face.
As we walked down the halls we chatted, talking about our pasts and finding out that we were fairly similar - we were both forced into the bad things we did, we both found a way to redeem ourselves, neither of us have ever had a boyfriend and we both love chicken noodle soup.
"Well, this is it." She announced, pointing at a door to our left. I nodded, going to open the door before pausing and turning around.
"Thank you. For taking me with you, for giving me this chance, for hiding me from HYDRA - thank you, really." I spoke softly, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster.
"No problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew we could've helped you. Everyone deserves a second chance."
"I genuinely can't thank you enough - you saved me." I said, quickly swiping away the threatening tears with the heels of my hands.
"I was nice meeting you, y/n."
"You too." And with the last words said, I pushed the door open, walking into the room and being instantly greeted by Bruce and Steve.
"Hey, y/n, why don't you take a seat and we'll get the introductions out the way?" Bruce suggested and I nodded shyly. I took a seat next to Steve, who appeared to shuffle slightly away from me but I couldn't be sure.
"So, another midgardian?" a bulky man with shoulder length blonde hair and a red cape clipped to his shoulders broke the silence. He was clearly the God I'd been hearing about - I mean how much more of a costume does he need to look like Thor?
"Yes, we think so." Bruce confirmed. I frowned at this. Midgardian? What the hell was a midgardian?
"We think she's been tampered with, like me," Steve elaborated, "but as far as we know, she is of this earth." Steve spoke and Thor nodded. "We are keeping her safe from HYDRA." Steve said to break the silence as they all stared at me with funny looks. I kept my eyes cast down now, cheeks hot with embarrassment after feeling so many eyes on me at once.
"Does she-" I interjected the second I heard another voice. I stood abruptly, pushing me seat back and wincing at the screeching noise it made before resuming my angry face. I slammed my hand down the table as I stood, catching the attention of everyone sat at the table.
"If even one more of you refers to me as 'she' rather than just fucking talking directly to me I am going to end up sirening one of your asses!" I demanded, seething with anger. A grin broke out on Thor's face.
"Atta girl, I like this one already!" He laughed and I sat down again, smiling contented ay his compliment.
"She's got Tony's patience, all right." Another man remarked with a smirk. Steve simply rolled his eyes as common menus about my attitude were thrown around the room. Finally, someone addressed me. It was a woman with Blonde hair and kind eyes. She looked motherly.
"Hey, I'm pepper." She smiled kindly and I quickly reciprocated it. They went around the table - the man who had commented about my patience was called Clint, the blonde man was was indeed called Thor and obviously I'd already met Bruce and Steve.
"I'm y/n." I returned and she repeated my name in her beautiful voice, almost as if she was testing how I'd felt in her mouth.
"Y/n. A stunning name for a stunning lady." Thor commented, boyish grin still in place and I gave him a sheepish smile.
"Oh, cut it out big guy - you're like, a billion times her age." A voice came from the door and we all turned to find out who it was.
"Tony. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us." Steve said in a monotone voice and Tony gave him a tight smile.
"You don't get everything your way, Capsicle. Now, who's this?" Tony said, stuffing a mouthful of blueberries in his mouth before stuffing the bag of food in his back pocket and motioning to me with a nod.
"Tony, this is y/n," Bruce said moving out the way from where he was standing so Tony could see my face. The man's eyes widened instantly as the recognition sank in. "Y/n Stark."
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atlafan · 5 years ago
Text
Costumes Galore - One Shot
a/n: this one was based off a few asked for my Halloween themed one shot requests. A lot of you wanted to something around a costume rental store, so I just made Harry the owner of that store! Feedback and reblogs are helpful, hope you enjoy! (not proofread) 
Warnings: pining, smut, friends to lovers
Words: 8.7K
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Don’t ask him how, but Harry is the owner of a costume rental shop. He was a business major in university, and with some luck and patience, he was able to take over the very shop he worked in as a teenager. Halloween was his busiest season, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing well year round. He would give deals to the local schools and community theaters, and people who dressed as characters for parties would come see him. So, needless to say, business was steady. He often had big sales right after Halloween, and people would come in and clean him out.
Preparing for Halloween was his favorite thing to do. As soon as it was September 1st, he would transform his shop, pulling out tons of decorations, and putting out different bowls of candy. He liked making his customers happy, and everyone usually left satisfied. His changing rooms were comfortable and spotless, and he even set up backdrops in the lounge area for people to take Halloween pictures of their kids. People would come in to do that all year to save time and money. He was a smart business man. Harry did most of the work himself, he had a couple of teenagers that worked for him after school, but other than that it was all him. He didn’t mind, it gave him the control he needed over his shop, and he just didn’t have the money to pay someone for full-time help. He was only entering the fourth year of owning the place, after all.
Harry enjoyed the small traditions the downtown area had. Every year on October 30th, all of the shops would open their doors so kids could come trick or treat. It was a great way to give out pamphlets and coupons, while also getting to know the people that lived in the area. He loved kids, so when Harry was told about the tradition by his shop neighbor he got right on it, splurging for the king sized candy bars.
It was getting to be that time of year again, just about the end of September, his shop was looking good, and the Halloween crowds had slowly been trickling in and out. He was at the register when he heard the chime of the bell he keeps above the door to signal someone was coming in. It was a beautiful young woman, and she made Harry’s mouth run dry.
“Hello.” She says shyly as she walks up to the counter.
“Hi.” He swallows, and then smiles. “May I help you find something? Picking a costume up?” He moves to walk into the back door to see what reservations he had left for the day, but she stops him.
“No, um, I was wondering, actually, if you were hiring seasonally? I’m a grad student at the local university, and I could really use the extra cash before the holidays approach.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting such a blunt and honest answer. “Well, I usually only hire high school students…it’s a bit easier to pay them under the table.”
“I don’t mind! I have another job at the university I get a pay stub for and all that, I really just need the extra money for the season. If you’re not hiring it’s okay, I can check with the other shops, I just figured since this is a costume shop you’d be getting really busy soon.”
“You figured correctly.” He sighs. “Do you have much experience in retail?”
“Oh, sure, tons! I worked in a grocery store when I was a teenager, so I know how to work a register, and then in undergrad I worked at an Old Navy, so I know how to fold clothes properly and check inventory.” She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Here’s my resume, not the most professional way of showing it, but I brought it nonetheless.” She unfolds it and slides it on the counter towards him.
Harry takes it and furrows his brows as he reads it over. Seems like she was in her first year of grad school, but had graduated from her undergrad a couple of years ago. Her undergraduate degree was in social work, and it looks like she had been working in an office for a couple of years. Now she was going for a graduate degree in school counseling. She had plenty of experience, that wasn’t his worry, he just wasn’t sure he would be able to properly compensate her.
“My busiest hours during the season tend to be between 3 and 7PM, and then I’m swamped on Saturdays. How many hours a week do you think you could work?”
Her features soften as she perks up from his question.
“I’m honestly free by four most days, and Saturdays are no problem. Well, as long as I don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn.” She chuckles. “I’m no good early in the morning. I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday if that works for you?”
“I wouldn’t be able to pay you more than ten dollars an hour, and you’d need to keep track of things on your own. I expect the honor system too, no trying to stiff me.”
“That’s perfect!” She was doing the math in her head. “Do you close right at seven? Would I stay after to close up?”
“Probably would need you here until eight. Saturday I’m open eleven to five, would need you here ten to six for that.”
She furrows her brows as she thinks about it. That would roughly come to about twenty hours a week, which was exactly what she was looking for. Then that would be $200 extra in her pocket a week, or $400 if he decides to pay her bi-weekly, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a dime of it coming out for taxes.
“Well, uh…”, she squints at his nametag, “Harry, I think we have a deal.” She smiles and extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it gently and smiles at her. “When can I start?”
“Why don’t you come in this Saturday around 9:30? I can go over everything with you without have to rush. There’s a little kitchen in the back and all that so feel free to leave food here if you feel like packing a lunch or snacks. I also keep a lot of snacks around.”
“Works for me.” She shrugs. “If you’re here until eight most days, what time do you usually open?”
“Around ten, I get here for nine.”
“Those are long days.”
“I don’t mind it, there’s always a lot to do.” It’s quiet between them for a moment.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. See you Saturday!” She beams.
“Wait, uh, the door will be locked when you get here, and I can’t just give you a key, barely know you.” He chuckles. “But here.” He grabs a business card and writes his cell phone number on it. “Just text me when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”
“Perfect.” She looks at the card. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”
“Stick with Harry, we don’t need to be so formal.”
“Alright, thanks, Harry.”
Out the door she goes feeling way better than when she walked in. He wondered how close in age they might be, she had to be around the same age as him, if not only a year or so younger. It would be nice working with someone he could actually talk to. He likes the teenagers, but sometimes he just had no idea what they were talking about.
//
Saturday morning Y/N isn’t sure what to wear. Harry hadn’t said anything about a uniform, so she decides on a pair of khakis and a black polo to at least look the part of a retail worker. She tucks the shirt in to look professional, and to make sure she looked cute. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, and out the door she goes. She grabs a coffee from the shop across from Harry’s, and takes out her phone to text him.
Y/N: Good morning, Harry! It’s Y/N, I’m outside the shop 😊
She sips her warm drink as she waits for him to appear in the windows. She smiles as she sees him walking up, and he opens the door for her.
“Morning, Y/N.” He smiles, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. It makes her blush.
“Morning.” She nods as she walks in. “Oh…I should have asked you if you wanted a coffee.” She frowns at herself. “I’m sorry.”
“No worries, had mine a little while ago. I should’ve asked you if you wanted anything.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways…”, he looks her up and down, “don’t feel like you need to dress so…well, I should have texted you about attire. Um, you can wear pretty much whatever you want. I just ask if you wear jeans that they’re not ripped, and if you wear leggings make sure you’re bum is covered. You never know what kind of old creeps might be coming in here to steal glances.” She nods at him and follows him behind the register and into the back room. “So this is where I keep reserved costumes. People will call ahead sometimes with their measurements and what they need.” He opens another door that leads into a breakroom. It was small kitchen with a slop sink, decent sized fridge, microwave, blender, toaster, and hot plate on the counters.
“I think you have every appliance known to man.” She laughs.
“Well, I can’t exactly have an oven in here, so I stalked up on other things. There’s some small pots if you feel like having pasta, that’s why I have the hot plate, you just need to remember to unplug it when you’re done. Turns out a lot of clothes are flammable, go figure.” His jokes makes her giggle, and he likes the sound of it. “And then through this door is the office. I have some lockers in here so you can hang your coat up, or put a bag away. Bring a lock if you feel like it, but I promise not to steal your things if you promise not to steal mine.”
“Promise.” She nods. “Where are the bathrooms?”
“In the back of the store along with the dressing rooms. We’ll get there in a moment. Every night I have a cleaning crew come in to make sure everything is spick and span, but accidents happen during the day sometimes so it’s on us to clean that up when it occurs.”
“No problem there. I used to clean the bathrooms at the grocery store all the time. Not my favorite thing to do, but I’m no stranger to it.”
He nods and then leads her back out to the register. He explains how he bookkeeps, and how important it is to save every receipt. Then he takes out what looks like a magazine that explains all of the types of costumes and accessories he keeps. He essentially had the shop on a grid system so everything was easy to find. She would need to learn this so she could properly help the customers. Then he leads her to the back of the store, shows her the dressings rooms and bathrooms, and then to the very back room where all of the storage was.
“Holy shit.” She says to herself. “You could get lost in here.” She swallows.
“You shouldn’t need to come back here too much. I usually have what people need out front, but sometimes you may need to snag some things from here. Mostly shoes.” He takes her back into the main area and into the office so they can sit. “I have cameras just about everywhere. Kids can sometimes pocket the costume jewelry. I have security codes for the doors as well, but I’ll always be here before you, so you won’t ever have to open, or close for that matter.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your class schedule like?”
“I have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I go to a middle school for my practicum hours. I’m hoping to become an adjustment counselor, you know, helping students with more serious issues.”
“At the middle school level no less, wow.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Good for you.”
“Thanks.” She smiles.
“You said you had a job at the university too, how do you have the time for that?”
“Oh, I get a stipend as a TA.” She shrugs. “The classes I actually take are online, so I have plenty of time. This is just for the season anyways, so it’s fine.”
“Right.” He opens his desk drawer and slides a nametag towards her. “There you are, no you’re a proper employee.”
“Thank you.” She takes it and puts it on, her tongue slightly peeking out as she does so. “So, how do I get paid? Are you gonna sneak me an envelope every week?” She chuckles.
“That’s the plan, yeah. The pay period will be like Saturday to Saturday, so I’ll pay you on Fridays, sound good?”
“Sounds great! Thank you again. I’ve been budgeting just fine and making things work, but things add up during the holidays: dinners, gifts, parties, all that stuff, and I just wanted to have some extra cushion.”
“I think that’s really smart. It’s nice to see you don’t mind working hard.”
“How did you come to own a costume shop?”
“Worked here as a teenager, so after uni the old man was selling it and he took a chance on me. Been running it for four years now.”
“Shit, you’re really young to be doing all of this.” She looks at him wide eyed. “I still have to call my mom to ask her if I should separate my delicates from the rest of my wash, and here you are…owning and running a business.”  
Harry swallows, and nods at her.
“Um, let me show you how the register works, and then we can open up.”
They get up and go back out front. He shows her the prices for everything that he keeps on a laminated sheet of paper. She listens to him intently, nodding along and taking mental notes.
//
It was a little slow in the beginning, so Harry has Y/N put away some costumes that people left in the dressing rooms. A small rush comes in right at noon, and they work together to get everyone settled.
“No, I wanna be Batman!” Y/N hears a small girl whale out at her father.
“But you’d look so pretty as Cinderella, honey.” He pleads with his daughter.
“Pardon me.” Y/N says. “We have tons of Batman costumes in girls sizes.” She smiles.
“You do?” He asks her.
“Sure! Lots of girls like dressing up like super heroes, and their costumes cover up a lot more, so it’s much more practical. She’ll stay warm and won’t trip over a long dress.” She leads them over to the area. “And she’ll still look plenty cute.”
“Alright.” He sighs with defeat. “Batman it is.”
“Yay!” The little girl exclaims as she snatches a costume off the rack.
Y/N looks over and sees that Harry was watching the interaction. He gives her a thumbs up, and goes back to the register. They take their lunch breaks at different times, and when the end of the day comes she lingers while he checks everything over at his desk.
“You can go, Y/N. Good first day.”
“I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, but I walked here because I live close by, but it’s raining…”
“Oh…you need a ride?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.” Her face flushes. “I can order an uber if you-“
“I don’t mind.” He gives her a soft smile. “Sit on the couch if you like, I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”
She nods and does as he says. She scrolls through her apps on her phone while she waits for him. She hears him sigh, and he knuckles at his eyes before standing up.
“Alright, let’s go. Where do you live?”
“Just over at The Ledges.”
“No shit? I live there too.”
“Seriously?!” She stands. “Okay, now I don’t feel bad.” She chuckles.
“No need to feel bad regardless.” He puts his coat on, grabs his keys, and they head out. He double checks that the doors are locked, and they make their way to his car. He even opens the door for her. “What building are you in?”
“Five, you?”
“Three. Got a roommate or anything?”
“Yeah, I live with a girl in the same program as me. She’s nice enough, we’re still getting to know each other, but we like a lot of the same movies and music, so it’s been easy to hang out when we have time. What about you?” She tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Got a roommate?”
“Nope.” He says proudly. “Can finally afford to live on my own, which has been nice.”
“Doesn’t that get lonely, though?”
“Not really.” He shrugs. “Most of my time is spent at the shop talking to people all day, so I don’t really mind the quiet once I’m home.”
“Not even a pet to keep you company?”
“I’ve just learned to take care of myself properly, I don’t think I’m quite ready to keep another thing alive.” She laughs at that and it makes him smile.
“You’re really funny, you know that?” He pulls up to her building once he’s turned into the complex. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it. I definitely would have caught a cold if I walked in that rain.”
“Anytime, seriously, don’t be afraid to ask.”
She nods and gets out. He makes sure she’s inside before making the turn to his own building.
//
Harry drove Y/N home most evenings. Her help was the best he’s had in a long time, maybe he could afford to hire her on like a regular employee…only if she wanted. She was personable with the customers, and he noticed she’d pick an accessory to wear during all of her shifts to get into the Halloween spirit. One day it was a tiara and a sash, another day it was cat ears, and another it was devil’s horns. Harry would mostly wear graphic tees with old movie posters on them. She thought it was cute. Y/N noticed how well Harry was with the customers too. The kids adored him, so it seemed.
It really didn’t take much for Y/N to develop a crush on Harry. From the moment she walked into his shop she thought he was handsome, but as she got to know him she realized his personality was just her type. She tried to be sneaky decipher whether he was seeing someone or not. There were no pictures of girls on his desk, other than a family photo of him, his mother, and sister. Harry wore a lot of rings, but nothing that screamed he was in a relationship or married. Surely he would mentioned it by now if he was, right? She even got a glimpse at his lock screen on his phone, and all it was, was a picture of a sunflower.
“Just ask him out, Y/N.” Her roommate, Ronnie, says to her one evening over wine and popcorn as they watch The Addams Family. “What do you have to lose?”
“My job.”
“You’re a seasonal employee. As soon as Halloween hits, you’re done there.”
“Not true, he asked me to stay through November. He has sales throughout November so people can buy costumes at a discount. Also, a ton of people come to get fitted for Santa costumes, so I’ll be there a bit longer than anticipated.” She takes a sip from her glass. “I think that if he liked me he would have made a move.”
“He could be thinking the exact same thing about you! And from what you’ve told me, he seems either too shy or too respectful to do something like that. I mean, you work for him, he wouldn’t want you to think he was harassing you.”
“Hm, I never thought of it like that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe…maybe I could ask him to dinner one night after work. That wouldn’t be totally weird, would it? He drives me home anyways…”
“I think that’s a great idea. Totally casual, off the cuff.”
“Exactly, like, smooth…cool.” She takes a bite of some popcorn. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Y/N, you wrangle middle school kids for half the week, asking a guy out should be a cakewalk.”
//
Saturday Y/N decides to wear a sweater dress over some leggings, and goes with a small witch’s hat that’s on a headband to add some flare to her look. Harry had given her a key since he trusted her, so she lets herself in. She goes right to the back to go say hello. Harry was in the kitchen finishing up his coffee.
“Morning.” He says to her.
“Morning.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, do you have plans tonight, like, after work?”
He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, taking one final sip of his coffee before rinsing his mug in the sink.
“Don’t think so, why?” He almost wished he had made something up. It was sort of lame to not have plans on a Saturday night, wasn’t it?
“Well, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner…” His eyes grow wide at her, so she back-peddles. “You know, as a thank you for being so great to me, and driving me home and stuff.”
“You…you don’t have to thank me for anything, Y/N. You’ve been the best temp I’ve ever hired.” He watches as she looks down at her feet. “But, um, dinner sounds good either way.”
“Really?” She perks up as she makes eye contact once again.
“Yeah, where were you thinking?”
“Nowhere special…do you like Mexican? We could go to Chipotle…” It sounded awful leaving her lips, but it was all she could really afford at the moment.
“I love it there, that sounds good.”
“Great.” She smiles and walks over to the coffee maker to pour herself some. She slips around him to get the creamer out of the fridge. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Harry was distracted all day. Y/N rarely wore dresses to work. Had she dressed up in hopes they’d be going out together later that evening. He looks down at himself, and he’s thankful he decided on a black jumper. Was this a date, or was this to be a casual dinner between two people who work together? He really couldn’t be sure. He thought Y/N was insanely attractive, she was lovely inside and out, but he was her boss so that made things a little…sticky for him. She was around the same age as him, so it wouldn’t be weird if they went out, and she was the one to initiate dinner. So it’s not like he was using any sort of position of power over her.
Around lunch time a boy that works at the coffee shop from across the street comes in. Harry greets him, and he says he’s looking for Y/N.
“She’s in the back on her break.” Harry says. “Do you want me to get her?”
“That’d be great.” The boy smiles.
“Hey, Y/N? There’s someone here to see you.”
“Oh?” She swallows the bite of veggie wrap and stands up to see who it is. “Hey, Charlie.” She smiles.
“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “I…I snagged you some of those chocolate chip cookie squares you like so much.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” She comes from around the counter to hug him. “That is so sweet, thank you.”
Harry’s jaw tenses as he tries not to pay attention. He was looking over receipts at the register, but he couldn’t help but be a little nosey.
“No problem.” He hands her the small bag. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but would you wanna catch a movie tonight?”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you to ask, but I actually already have dinner plans tonight, so I can’t.” She gives him a soft smile.
“Alright, another time, maybe?”
“Sure.” She nods, and then he makes his way out. She goes back behind the counter. “Harry, you have to try one of these, they’re so good, nice and chewy. I get them all the time.”
“Clearly.” He reaches into the bag to take one out. “You know, if you wanted to go out with him…you could have…”
“Why would I break our date that I literally just asked you to this morning to go out with someone else?” Ah, so it was a date, he thinks to himself as he bites off a piece of the cookie. “Good, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Charlie’s nice enough, but I don’t like him like that.”
Harry leaves the conversation as that when she goes back to finish her lunch. Did she like him like that? Was that it? Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.
//
The ride to Chipotle is comfortably quiet, the radio could be heard just over the rumble of the streets. Y/N bumps Harry with her hip when he tries to pay for their food, shoving her card into the chip insert. She told him to go grab a table in a snappy way that made him smirk, but he listened to her regardless. He finds a quieter table for two and sets their things down. She comes over with some napkins and sits down.
“You really didn’t have to pay for me.” He says.
“Try again.”
“Thank you.” He sighs.
“Much better.” She smirks and dives into her burrito bowl. “I see you went with the tacos, those are my second favorite.”
“I love tacos, obsessed with them really. I must make them for dinner twice a week.”
“Really?” She asks with a giggle.
“Only because I usually have leftovers. I try to meal prep and stuff like that.”
“Same here! Every Sunday I go to the market, and cook up a storm when I get back. Then it’s all done, and you don’t have to worry.”
“Exactly.” He smiles and takes a bite of his food. It was a little messy, but she didn’t seem to mind. “So, what made you wanna grab a bite tonight?”
She nearly chokes on her food, and she takes a sip of her water.
“Um…I…well…” She stops talking and just looks at him. “I just thought it might be nice to do something outside of work for a change. It’s nice sharing a meal with someone, you know?”
He nods at her and takes another bite of his food. He asks her questions about school, and how things were going balancing working at a middle school and being a TA. She explains that she’s very organized, so she hasn’t been terribly stressed. She was looking forward to her school’s winter break so she could just work at the middle school and not teach at the same time. They had lost track of time, sitting there for over an hour talking. He drives her to her building, and she lingers in his car for a moment.
“That was fun.” She says to him.
“Yeah…thanks again for paying.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Do…do you have plans on Halloween?”
“Aren’t we doing that trick or treat thing at the shop?”
“That’s the evening before.”
“Oh, right! Here I am telling you I’m organized and I can’t get my days straight.” She takes her phone out to look at her calendar. “I think Ronnie and I were planning to put a bowl of candy out in the hallway and watch movies…why?”
“Well, I have a party to go to…my mate Niall throws a Halloween party every year…would you like to come with me?”
Her eyes widen, and he feels like he’s made a mistake. Had he misinterpreted everything?
“That’s only a week away, where on earth am I going to get a costume on such short notice?” She looks at him seriously, and then she laughs.
“Good fucking thing I own a costume shop, or you’d be shit out of luck.” He laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”
“Yeah.” She smiles and leans over the console to give him a peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.” She gets out of the car, tummy full of butterflies, and goes inside her building.
//
Ronnie was thrilled for Y/N’s upcoming date, and didn’t mind her breaking her roommate date at all. When Monday rolls around, Y/N can’t wait to see Harry. He was running around when she got in, and he basically yelled at her to get busy. He texted her Sunday night to warn her that the week of Halloween was usually wild with last minute costume buyers. The two of them run around, and don’t close up until nearly nine.
“I can come in tomorrow and Thursday if you need me to.” She tells him as they walk to his car.
“I don’t want you to be stressed out.”
“I won’t be! I’ll be stressed knowing you’re doing all of that alone. Please, you don’t even need to pay me.”
“Y/N.” He chuckles as he drives her home. “Don’t be silly, I’ll pay you. You can come in if you need the extra hours.”
“Alright.” She nods. “Have you already decided on your costume?”
“I think while we’re at the store it would be fun to dress up as a witches?”
“Definitely, and for the party?”
“You…you wanna dress as a pair for that?”
“Well, we’re going as a pair, so I thought that would be fun…but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Okay.” He pulls up to her building and he turns to face her. “Niall’s dressing like Barney from the Flintstone’s and his girlfriend is gonna dress up like Betty, so I was wondering how you’d feel if we dressed like Fred and Wilma…”
“Do you have those costumes at the shop?”
“Yeah, in the back.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Really? Not too cliché?”
“Not at all, I think it could be fun.”
“Great, I can pull everything out for you tomorrow, and you can tell me how it all fits.”
//
It was a busy week, but worth it to see all of the little kids come by the shop. Y/N and Harry made quite the pair of witches. He had invited her back to his place for a movie after everything was all said and done. Tomorrow would be another busy day with the really last minute people, but he wasn’t worried about it.
“Right, so, make yourself at home. I’m just gonna get us some snacks. Can I get you anything to drink?” He says to her as he leads her inside his flat. “I’ve got water, soda, seltzer water…”
“Anything with alcohol in it?” She chuckles. “Long week, you know?”
“Oh, sure! I’ve got these pumpkin ciders you might like, they’re really good.”
“Sounds perfect. Do you need help with anything?”
“No, go sit.” He smiles, and she goes to make herself comfortable on his couch.
Her eyes scan over his living area, it was nicely decorated. He had some decals in the windows for Halloween, little black cats and pumpkins, it was cute. He comes in shortly with some cheese and crackers, and a couple of ciders.
“I threw some pizza rolls into the oven, thought this could hold us over for now.” He says as he sits.
“Good thinking, thank you. This is a nice place, just a one bedroom?”
“Mhm.” He smiles. “I like living here a lot, it’s the perfect location if I need to get to the shop quick.” They each take a sip of the cider as he grabs the TV remote. “You like it?”
“Yeah! It’s delicious. So, what are we watching?”
“How do you feel about Beetlejoice?”
“It’s one of my all-time favorites.”
“Thank god.” He says with relief. “It’s one of my favorites too. I don’t love super scary movies, but ones like these are fun.”
“I’m the same way. I don’t get that thrill other people do from being scared.”
He queues up the movie and presses play. She takes her sneakers off so she can sit with her feet under her, and he likes that she’s able to get so comfortable. He hears the ding from his oven timer and goes to retrieve the pizza rolls.
“They’re really hot, gotta let them sit. I don’t want you to bun yourself.” He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “Here, you look cold.” She smiles and takes the blanket from him, draping it over her legs. “Let me know when you want a refill too.”
“I will, thank you, Harry.”
He sits back on the couch and pops a cracker into his mouth. This was normal behavior him. He often doted on her in the shop. If she fell asleep at the table during her lunch break she’d miraculously wake up on the couch in the office, or with a blanket draped over her shoulders and the lights dimmed. He knew how tired she had to be, working so much. She didn’t mind it one bit. She was used to taking care of herself, it was sort of nice to let someone else take a turn.
“We can share if you want.” She speaks up as she sees him cross his arms over his body. “If you’re cold too.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s your blanket.” She chuckles, and places some of it over his legs. “There, all cozy.”
They devour the pizza rolls, and drink three cider’s each during the movie. They laugh at the funny parts, and are quiet during the more serious parts. She looks away a couple of times, and even squeezes his hand during one of the scarier scenes. They didn’t touch other than that, though. He didn’t want to make things awkward before the party.
“Oh, I love this part at the end with the football team.” She giggles and finishes her last drink. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.” She turns her body to look at him.
“Me too.” He stands up, and starts cleaning everything up. She follows him into the kitchen with the empty cans. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind.” She tosses them in the recycling bin he has next to the trash.
“I can walk you home if you want.”
“That’s okay, I think I can make it.”
“I really don’t mind.”
“Don’t be silly, Harry.”
“Will you…at least text me when you get back?”
“Sure.” She nods and gets her shoes and jacket on. He walks her to his door with his hands in his pockets.
“I can pick you up before work tomorrow if you like.”
“That I’ll definitely take you up on. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow, I think.” She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek quickly. “Thanks for a nice night.”
“Bye.”
He sighs as she leaves, and sighs heavier as she makes her way out of the building. She gets inside her own flat and tells Ronnie everything.
“Shit! I forgot to text him!”
Y/N: so sorry, I got in like 10 min ago
Harry: no worries, glad you got in safe
Y/N: thanks again for a really nice night…you’re fun to watch movies with
Harry: you’re welcome, and so are you
“God, why does he have to be so sweet?”
“So, he really didn’t make any moves?”
“No.” She sighs. “We shared a blanket, but that was about it, and I was too nervous to do more than to touch his hand a couple of times.” She groans and sits down on the couch with a huff. “Like…are we dating? Just friends? I’d love to know.”
“You should ask him.”
“You can’t just ask that sort of thing!”
“Why not?!”
“Because it’s awkward. Ugh, I just had to go work for someone like him. Why couldn’t it have been some old lady?”
//
The work day goes by like normal. Y/N uses ladies room to get into her Wilma costume. Harry had given her an orange wig for the hair, and she got it up into a decent enough bun. The dress was really cute on her figure, and she felt good about it. She’d be cold, but only for the couple of minutes she’d be outside. Harry was waiting for her in the main area with his Fred costume. He was not wearing a wig.
“I’m pretty sure Fred Flinstone has black hair.” She runs a hand through his curls and his face flushes. “But I suppose this will do.”
“You look great, Y/N.”
“You think so?” She does an innocent twirl. “Not too skimpy?”
“Not at all.” He smiles.
They drive to Niall’s, and Y/N is welcome with open arms from the second they walk in. Everyone at the party had great costumes, and she was happy her and Harry went all out. There was music playing, plenty of snacks and drinks, and even a few games. People were playing beer-pong in the kitchen, others were playing some card games. There were some people dancing in the living area. Y/N wondered if some other grad students were mixed into the bunch.
“Want something to drink?” Harry asks her and she nods yes. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the drink cart in the kitchen. He looks at her with raised eyebrows.
“Vodka tonic, please.”
“Coming right up.” He makes two drinks, and hands her one. “Let me know if It’s too strong.”
“Mm.” She takes a sip. “It’s perfect.”
Much to her surprise, Harry keeps an arm around her shoulders for most of the night as they mingled with his friends. It was loose around her, but he was making it pretty clear to anyone else looking at them that she was spoken for. They didn’t drink too much, enough to have a healthy buzz, but not so much that Harry wouldn’t be able to drive later.
“Are you having fun?” He says into her ear. She looks up at him and nods yes. He smiles and goes back to the conversation he was having with Niall.
Y/N liked Harry’s friends. They were all really nice, and did their best to include her in the chit chat. It was a fun night. A little after midnight they decide to call it quits, and head out. Y/N takes the wig off and shakes her hair out the second they’re in the car.
“Man, that thing was itchy.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him. “What?” He was already looking at her.
“You’re…you’re just so…” He reaches for her and cups her cheeks in his large hands. They were barely an inch apart, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I really want to kiss you.”
“Please.” She nods slightly, and then he does it.
His lips slot between hers, and her eyes flutter closed. His lips were soft, and he tasted like the mint from the gum he was chewing. Her hands move to the collar of his costume and she tugs him closer to her. He pulls away just as she was opening her mouth a little more, her lips moving towards him. His forehead presses to her.
“Fuck, I…I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into the shop, but-“
“Do you wanna go back to my place?”
He nods yes, and throws the car in drive, speeding to their complex. His hand rests on her thigh, squeezing it occasionally, reminding her that he was there and this was happening. He parks in one of the free spaces in front of her building, and gets out of the car. He jogs around the other side and opens her door for her. The air was cold, but the heat radiating between the two of them was scorching. He helps her out of the car, and his lips are on hers again. They shuffle to the main entrance, and she keys in. He’s about to push her up against the wall, but she pushes on his chest.
“Cameras.” She says against his lips, and she tugs him down the hall, and to the elevator.
He keeps his hands to himself while in the elevator, unsure of more cameras, but when she gets them to her door he puts his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her.
“Is Ronnie home?” He whispers in her ear and goosebumps raise on her skin.
“N-no, she decided to visit some friends for the weekend.”
She keys into the apartment, and she just barely gets the door closed when she’s being pushed up against the wall. If she had the strength to pick him up and carry him to her room she would, but she can’t, so she just tugs on him to move further into the flat. His lips felt so good on hers, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, causing him to groan against her. She finally gets him in her room, and she pushes him back onto her bed. She straddles him immediately, and his hands squeeze at her hips.
“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks as he looks up at her. “It’s not too fast?”
“Consider it third date sex, I’m good with it if you are.” She reaches for the hem of her dress and lifts it off herself, revealing a white lace set of underwear. His hands slide up and down her sides.
“Third date, huh?” He smirks.
She leans down to kiss him.
“Chipotle.” Her teeth tug at his bottom lip and she lets it snap back. “The movie last night.” She sucks a mark into his neck, just under his earlobe. “And tonight.” She sits back up. “So, no, I don’t think this is too fast, do you?”
“No.”
He flips her over onto her back, and she giggles as he works to get his costume off. He hovers over her, and kisses down her neck. He mouths over her covered nipples and sucks on her through the fabric. Her hips buck up towards him as he continues working his way down her body. Her heart was about ready to beat out of her chest.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks just as his lips go right below her belly button.
“Uh…I was going to take your underwear off, if that’s alright.”
“And then what?”
“I’d love to have a taste of you, if you let me.”
“You really wanna do that? It…it doesn’t gross you out?”
“What’s gross about it?” He smirks. “This right here?” He cups her mound and she whimpers. “One of the greatest wonders of the world. So, can I?”
“Yes.”
He hooks his fingers into her panties, and he tugs them down her legs. He kisses on her hips as he opens her legs. He sucks on each of her lips before licking up her slit. He swirls his tongue around her clit, which was positively throbbing for him. He wraps her lips around the small bud and sucks. Her mouth falls open and her hands fly to his hair.
“Oh, fuck.” She moans.
He moans against her, and it just makes her pool between her legs even more him. He was really enjoying this, which was making her enjoy it even more than usual. It was usually a force with guys her age, but Harry had no problem with it. If she didn’t want to suck his dick before, she definitely did now.
Harry removes his mouth from, only for a moment, to suck his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. He slides them through her folds, and then carefully slips them inside her center. She gasps from the stretch at first, and then she feels like she’s melting into the bed. His mouth goes back to her clit while his fingers curl up inside her to pet against her front wall. Her hips start moving along with the rhythm of his fingers, chasing her release.
“Shit, Harry, ngh.” She was panting now.
Her legs move over his shoulders and her heels dig into his back. He groans against her as she falls apart underneath him. He works her through it, giving her clit slow licks as he pulls his fingers from her. He sucks his fingers into his mouth. They make eye contact, briefly, before she’s pinning him down, and she’s yanking his boxers off. Her eyes widen when she sees his length slap back against his lower tummy. She pecks his lips before getting situated between his legs.
Y/N licks up the underside of his hard length, and his head falls back. Her mouth wraps around his tip and she suckles on it before popping off. She spits into her hand and wraps it around him to pump him slowly. She cradles his balls and moves to suck and lick gently on them.
“Oh, dear god.” He moans. “Y/N, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”
“Do you wanna just fuck now? Wanna fuck me, Harry?” She pouts at him.
He was surprised by her. He nods at her, and she smirks at him. She gets up and takes her bra off while she walks into her bathroom to grab a condom. She tosses it to him as she knees back onto the bed. He rips it open and rolls it on, and he gets back on top of her. He rolls the head of his cock between her folds and around her clit before pushing inside her.
“Still sure? I can stop.”
“No, please, I want it, Harry.”
He smiles and continues to push inside her. She grits her teeth at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in he gives her a moment before slowly pulling back out. He sinks back inside her, and that’s when it starts to feel good. She was nice and tight around him, not that he really cared. He knew it would feel good because he liked her so much. He did wonder, though, when the last time someone had the privilege to stretch her out like this.
“You feel so fucking good.” He says and leans down to suck on her bottom lip. His hands move to knead her breasts, and she moans.
She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She just want him to smother her. She moves her hips up to rock along with his, and she gasps when she feels him hit her g-spot.
“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.”
“Yeah? Like that?”
“Fuck, Harry, yeah, keep going.”
He had per panting again, and her nails were scratching down his back. It felt good, though, to feel her just about breaking his skin because he’s making her feel so good. Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone again, and he presses hard inside her so she can really feel it. She thought maybe he had come too since he was pulling out, but he grips her hips and flips her onto her stomach. He pulls her back, spreads her apart, and pushes back inside her.
“Oh!” She gasps.
“This okay?” He grunts.
“More than okay, fuck.” She pushes back against him and he nearly chuckles.
Quick, deep strokes were entering her. Her bed was shaking, and her cheeks were straight up getting clapped. It was such a breath of fresh air to be with man who knew what to do with it. He grips the back of her neck to steady himself as his thrusts get sloppy.
“I’m gonna come.” He groans. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ He moans out as he spills into the condom.
He was so vocal, and she really liked that. He pulls out of her slowly, and takes the condom off.
“Trash is over there.” She breathes and points towards her desk. He nods and gets up to dispose of it. She gets up and waddles into her bathroom to use her toilet. When she comes back out he’s getting his boxers back on. “You, um, don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”
“Normally I’d stay, but…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sort of embarrassing to walk back tomorrow morning as Fred Flinstone.” He smirks.
“Right.” She nods as she throws on a bed shirt, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“But I could stay a little longer, lay with you a bit.”
“I don’t want you to be upset if you fall asleep.”
“I won’t be…suppose it would be funny.” He comes over to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead before going into her bathroom.
He gets into bed with once he’s done, and she snuggles up to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her fingers trace around his various tattoos. He rubs her back, and it lulls her to sleep.
//
The next morning she wakes up to an empty bed. Where he was laying wasn’t even warm so he must have left soon after she fell asleep. She sighs and takes a shower, washing her night away. She checks her phone, and smiles, all worry leaving her body.
Harry: slipped out after you fell asleep, hope you don’t think I’m one of those guys…I had a lot of fun, talk at work Monday?
Y/N: definitely don’t think you’re one of those guys…now lol yeah, let’s talk Monday
She sighs and sits at her desk to get some grading done. Or she was hopeful to get work done. The ache between her legs was proving to be pretty distracting.
//
Y/N takes a deep breath before walking into the shop Monday afternoon. There were plenty of customers buying discounted costumes, so Harry’s only able to smile at her as she slips into the backroom to hang her coat up.
“I guess…do you think he’ll still like this in a year?” The woman asks Harry.
“I’m not gonna like to you, he easily couldn’t, but if I know kids, they like to have options. If he ends up having a couple of parties to go to, he won’t want to wear the same costume to each event.”
“That’s true…alright, you’ve sold me, Harry.”
“Excellent! I’ll you ring you up.”
Y/N brushes behind Harry as he works the register. The whole evening was busy, so when he’s finally able to put the closed sign up, he’s relieved to see her sitting standing in the office.
“Hey.” He says to her.
“Hi.” She blushes.
His hands grip her hips and he effortlessly lifts her up onto the desk. He presses his forehead to hers.
“Y/N, I know we’ve become close, but I’ve been feeling conflicted because I’m also your boss, and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of the situation.”
“Hey.” She says, cupping his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “We weren’t even at work…everything we’ve done has been outside of this place. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you regret the other night?”
“No, not at all.” His hands rest on her thighs as he stands between her legs. He tucks some hair behind her ear. “I just don’t really know what to do here.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ll be working here much longer, just until the end of November, right?”
“Right.”
“So…do you wanna, like, keep dating? Going out and stuff?”
“I’d really like that. I want us to keep getting to know each other. I wish I had stayed the whole night the other night. I felt like such a dick for leaving.”
“Don’t, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” She smiles and then bites her bottom lip. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to sleepover.”
“I will?” He smiles.
She nods and he leans in to kiss her. Harry was a simple guy who owned a costume shop, and thanks to the girl in grad school he hired for the season, he made it through Halloween yet again. This time, instead of celebrating his profits with Niall down at the pub, he was kissing the very same girl that took his breath away when she walked in.
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willow-salix · 4 years ago
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TAG MiniBang 2021
Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...
I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 
Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.
So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 
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Ting ting ting
“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 
“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 
“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”
“Sure-”
“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”
“A sandwich?” 
“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”
“Sure-”
“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”
“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.
“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.
“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.
“What did the cheese do to you?”
“It’s guilty by association.”
“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 
A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.
“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.
“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”
“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”
“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.
“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”
“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 
“I am? And that would be…”
“John’s home.”
Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”
“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.
“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.
“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 
And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.
“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”
“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.
“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.
“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.
“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”
"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 
She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.
“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.
“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.
“Right, got it, my bad!”
She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 
“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.
“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.
“Anything else I can do for you?”
 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.
“Of course I will.” 
Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.
Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.
“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.
“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”
Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”
One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”
“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”
“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 
“Only when it’s true.”
“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.
“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”
Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”
“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”
“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”
“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.
“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”
“I meant no one I can do anything with.”
“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”
“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”
“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”
“Who?”
“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”
“John? No way.”
“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.
Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.
“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.
“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”
“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.
Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.
“A bit boring.”
“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.
“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.
“He is not boring.”
“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 
“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.
“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”
-x-
"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."
"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."
John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 
“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 
"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 
John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 
"What did you do?" 
"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.
"Are you sure?" 
Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."
"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 
"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."
"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 
"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"
"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 
"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 
"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 
"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 
"Just sit around all day."
John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."
"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."
"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 
"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 
"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 
Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 
"What are you even doing?" 
"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 
"Why?" 
"Because she likes them."
"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."
"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."
Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 
"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 
Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 
"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."
"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 
-x-
"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 
"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 
"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 
"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 
"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."
John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 
"So, what are you doing?" 
"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 
"The same one?" 
"Yes."
Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"
"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 
"Why?" 
"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."
"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 
"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."
"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 
"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 
"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 
"Because it's you."
"Hey! Rude."
"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 
"Why?"
"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."
"Says the console jockey." 
Console Jockey? He did not just say that!
"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 
“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.
“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 
Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 
John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.
 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 
His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 
Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.
He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 
“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”
Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 
“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 
“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 
Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 
Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.
But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.
Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.
“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.
He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.
John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 
“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”
“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.
Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 
“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.
“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.
“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”
Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.
“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”
He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”
“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.
“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”
John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.
“Sorry!” 
“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.
“What happened, love?”
“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 
John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.
“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”
“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”
“Because I know you two?” 
“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”
Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.
“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”
“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”
“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”
“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”
“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 
John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”
“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”
“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”
Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 
But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.
“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 
“I tried, he’s not interested.”
“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”
-x-
“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”
“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 
“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 
“Grandma finally released you?”
“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”
“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”
“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”
“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"
"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 
"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."
"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 
"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."
"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 
"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 
"Yep."
Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 
"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 
"Actually, we got you a present."
"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 
This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 
"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.
"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”
“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.
“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.
Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 
"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 
"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”
“So you put the ship in the bottle?”
“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”
“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”
-x-
“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”
“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.
Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.
“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.
“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”
“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”
Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.
“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.
“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 
“Against the list?” John clarified.
“I eyeballed it, OK?”
“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”
“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 
“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.
“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”
Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.
John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.
“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.
“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”
“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 
“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 
“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”
“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”
“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”
“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.
“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”
Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.
“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”
Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.
By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.
John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 
“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 
“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”
Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.
“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”
“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.
“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”
John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.
“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”
They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.
-x-
 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”
“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”
“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”
“Do you really need them?”
John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 
“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 
John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 
She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.
“Do I even want to know?” 
“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.
“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.
“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.
“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 
John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.
“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.
“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 
“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 
“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.
“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 
“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”
“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”
“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.
“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 
“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 
“Never,” Gordon agreed. 
-x- 
Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.
John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 
Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.
His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 
John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.
It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.
Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.
Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 
They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 
John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 
He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 
He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.
-x-
“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”
“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.
At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.
“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.
“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 
John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.
“That’s looking great.”
“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”
“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”
“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 
“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.
“Sure, sounds good.”
“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”
“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”
“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”
“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.
-x-
“Careful,” John warned.
“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”
“Your hand’s shaking.”
“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”
They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.
“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.
“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.
John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.
“Thanks.” 
“Welcome.”
Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 
“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.
Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.
“String one.”
“Got it. Watch number four sail.”
“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”
“Sail three is flopping!”
“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”
“Maybe if I gather…”
“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”
“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”
“Hey! I can be delicate!”
“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”
“There, saved it.”
John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.
Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 
The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.
“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.
“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 
With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.
“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”
“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”
“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 
“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”
“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”
“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”
“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”
He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.
-x-
Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.
The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.
He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.
He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 
Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.
Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 
It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.
Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.
Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.
“Thanks, Bro.”
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ptergwen · 5 years ago
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last christmas
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w/c: 2.0k
warnings: a few descriptions of dizziness
summary: someone might be able to get you back into the holiday spirit
a/n: hi hi hi i’m really excited about this :,) i’ve had the idea for a while and i like where it’s going! it’s based it off of the movie last christmas and this is only part one, so if it feels a little slow that’s why AND on that note i hope you enjoy
━━━ *:・。.
“you’re late,” harry comments as the coat room door bursts open. he’s not wrong, but he doesn’t have to announce it. you slip behind the counter while tying up your apron. “only ten minutes. besides, we’re never busy this early.” he presses his lips together and grabs a large cup.
that’s the face he makes whenever you say or do something stupid. you’ve learned a lot about harry in your year of working together. he’s a pretty laidback guy. funny, too. you’d consider him a friend and not just your coworker. the only time he isn’t chill is when your coffee shop has what you like to call its rush hour.
it’s in a pretty prominent area in london, and it gets packed every afternoon. people like to pop in for a muffin or some tea on their lunch break. with it being christmas time and all, the shop is way more chaotic than usual. the seasonal flavors clearly draw a crowd. you take that as a compliment since you came up with a few of them.
the point is, harry can get stressed and pretty mean. you’re afraid he’ll explode if you ask him a question sometimes. he turns super red. but, he also knows more than you do. he’s had to fix countless machines you’ve almost broken. you two make an interesting team. it’s just you and harry who work mornings.
your mouth drops open when you see the line of people squished into the shop. “oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. harry hears it and hums smugly. “rush hour came early. get out there.” you quickly take your spot at the register. a man with a fuzzy red sweater and judgy look steps up. “hi, sorry for the wait. what can i get started for you?”
the rest of your morning is exactly the same. you deal with the crabby customers, harry makes the drinks. it gets better once your other coworkers clock in for the day. orders get done faster, and you have someone to joke around with from time to time.
you and harry eventually switch because he’s bored of making hot chocolates. you’re in charge of drinks while he rings people up now. it’s not too bad at first. all you have to do is dump some mixes into water and call names. then, everyone starts shouting at you. the drinks gets harder, you keep messing up, and customers aren’t happy.
harry is about to tell you off when he sees you stumble. he rushes to your side before you hit the ground. you grab his arm with an apologetic smile. “thanks.” “is it...” you nod, not wanting him to finish his sentence.
he’s your only coworker you told about your accident. it happened last year, almost a full one to date. you got this job a few months after. harry has always been understanding of it all, and he accommodates you however he can. you’re grateful to have his support.
“i’m just a little lightheaded. i’ll be fine,” you wave him off. he clicks his tongue. “you can’t stand if i let go of you.” you’d try to prove him wrong, but you don’t feel like falling on your face in front of all these people. “go take your break, y/n,” harry says softer this time. you give in, letting him take you to the coat room.
━ ❆
it’s finally the end of the day. your shift ended fine, and now you’re walking out with harry. you’re laughing at something he said inside. you pull your coat up around your face, smiling as you say your goodbyes. harry looks off to the car you assume is his before returning it. he waits until you’re out of sight to get into the passenger seat.
“who was that?” tom asks before harry can even shut his door. “y/n. we work together,” harry replies casually and buckles his seatbelt. the car engine is the only thing holding off silence. he raises an eyebrow at his brother.
“why do you ask?” “dunno. looks like you’re friends,” tom says quietly, pulling out of the spot he parked in. “you haven’t mentioned her.” “i have. you’re never home when i do,” he deadpans. tom drums his fingers on the steering wheel as they stop at a light.
there’s that void begging to be filled again. harry gives him a small smile. “thanks for picking me up, by the way. you’re cheaper than uber.” “does that mean i’m getting paid?” tom looks over at him. “joking. anytime, bro.”
harry can tell he’s waiting to bring you up again. all he did was look at you, and he’s falling. he’s never been subtle about his crushes. harry knows the two of you would get on well, but he’s not sure if you can handle a relationship right now. this year hasn’t been easy for you. you should be focusing on your health, not his tool of a brother.
at the same time, you could use some cheering up. you haven’t sang along to one christmas song playing at the shop. tom gets so into christmas every year, so maybe some of his festivity could rub off on you. it’s possible to work on two things at once, right? you’ll be happy and healthy for the new year. that’s all harry wants for you.
he wouldn’t mind the same for tom, either.
“she’s in all day tomorrow,” harry sighs. tom scrunches his face up in the side mirror. “who is?” “y/n, div. i knew you were going to ask.” there’s no denying that one. “right. i’ll stop in for a drink.”
he smiles about it the whole way home.
━ ❆
the next day is just like the last one. harry seems more on edge than usual, but you don’t know what that’s about. he does let you stay on register today so the chances of you passing out are lower. that all changes when your next customer walks in. you recognize him immediately, even with a scarf covering half his face.
what the hell is tom holland doing in your café? he pulls his scarf down and walks up to place an order. you sort of forget how to act. “you... you’re...” you stammer, eyes wide on him. smiling, he presses a finger to his lips. all he wants is a coffee, and you’re about to get him mobbed. you raise your hands in defense and focus on the register.
“sorry. can i get you anything?” you try again, lowering your voice. he’s still smiling. “sure, thanks. i’ll try an iced peppermint mocha.” a smile takes over your own face. “cool, i suggested that one.” you punch it into the register, keeping your eyes on tom. “i’ll bet it’s good, then. i trust your judgement.” he sounds genuine but teasing at the same time.
“hey, harry.” tom waves at him while he makes something in the blender. harry unenthusiastically waves back before getting to work again. you turn to harry with your eyebrows knitted together. “you know each other?” “really well. we’re brothers,” tom replies, your eyebrows now raised to the top of your head.
“what? how come you never told me?” you almost yell at harry. he awkwardly dumps the contents of the blender into a cup. “it never came up.” “you don’t talk about me, baby bro?” tom jokes, getting his card out. you give harry one more look before turning back to him. “oh, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” you dismiss him.
“he’s a multimillionaire, y/n. i think he’ll be fine,” harry chimes in. “family discount,” you decide. tom chuckles and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “you’re a funny one. can i make it up to you somehow?” his eyes lock with yours. you feel fluttery, like your heart is going to jump out of your chest. there could be a few reasons for that.
“um, can i get your autograph?” you murmur out. “easy. do you have something to write with?” he watches you scramble to get a piece of paper. you pull a pen from behind the counter and hand them both to him. a line is starting to form, but you can’t even pretend to care. there are more important things going on.
harry starts making tom’s drink while he signs the paper. he leans on the counter, his tongue poking out. he’s so sweet for doing this. your alarm goes off before you can tell him that. you quickly shut it and peek over the register to see. harry comes up to you.
“isn’t that for your medication? you should probably go take it,” he says so only you hear. you shrug a shoulder. “i set it a few minutes early. i’ll be fine.”
“here we go.” tom grins and hands you the paper, then the pen. you put it down with another smile before looking over his signature. you’re confused when you don’t see one. instead, he wrote down a bunch of numbers.
it can’t be...
“it’s my number,” tom explains, glancing over at harry for a second. he scoffs and puts the lid on his drink. “i figured you’d like it more than my terrible cursive.”
your whole body feels hot. whether it’s from putting off your meds or getting hit on by tom holland, you’re not sure. you wouldn’t mind the latter, though. it’s the safer of the two. in all seriousness, the fact that he has any sort of interest in you is pretty insane.
“wow, for real? thank you.” you look at the piece of paper in your hands, then at tom. “does this mean i can text you?” he’s practically beaming at you. “or call.” “tom,” harry calls from the pickup counter. he rolls his eyes for good measure. “i guess your drink is ready,” you laugh out. tom adjusts his scarf again.
“i guess it is. i’ll talk to you later?” you hold up the piece of paper. “that’s what this is for.” he breathes out a laugh and turns to go. you’re about to call up the next customer, but he looks back at you. you shake your head. it’s going to be impossible getting through what’s left of your shift. “enjoy.” tom nods confidently. “i will.”
━ ❆
the first thing you do once you get home is call tom. your roommate is out with friends, so you’re spread out on the couch. all the lights are off to help the headache you got. with your luck, you’ll wake up with a migraine. you’ve become too familiar with nursing those. it’s given considering everything that happened.
tom picks up on the third ring. you hold your phone to your ear and sit up. “hello?” he asks sternly. you cringe at yourself for not texting him who you are first. “hi, it’s y/n. i probably should’ve texted.” his tone softens. “no, you’re fine. i was waiting for you to call.”
“were you really?” you lay your head back on the arm of the couch. he hums proudly. “tom holland was waiting for me to call him?” “he was.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “he really enjoyed your conversation earlier.” sighing, you look at your reflection in the tv. “i did, too. i don’t think harry could say the same.”
“he hates having me around. i’m embarrassing, apparently,” tom laughs at his brother’s behavior. you press your lips into a pout. “is that why i’ve never heard about you?” “probably,” he confirms. it seemed weird that he wouldn’t want to tell the world his brother is spider-man. then again, harry isn’t like that.
“that’s nice, though. it’s like i’m the same me before the movies,” tom lightens the mood. “not that i know you, but i feel like you are,” you agree with a small smile. he’s grinning at his phone. “speaking of not knowing me, when are you free?” he smoothly transitions to the asking you out part. you were hoping you’d get there.
“saturday. why?” “i was wondering if you’d want to go out with me.” you hold the phone away from your face and silently squeal. tom didn’t need to witness that. “that would be fun, yeah.” “anywhere special you want to go?” he asks. he’s hoping there isn’t because he already has a place in mind. you actually don’t.
“surprise me.”
-
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