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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 6 months

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who says you're not getting an ask? because I'm giving you one right now!

anyway, I'm curious about Burn Fast, Burn Bright. not anything specific really, just surprise me ig. I love that fic of yours a whole lot as I'm sure I've stated to you before.

CAN WE GET ON WITH THIS?? TY!!! fic in question, which is OLD as HELL and I got second hand embarrassment from all the things I could’ve done better MAN. here are my thoughts before we get into it;

- this was the second fic I’d written for stanuary, and one of the longer fics I’ve written Ever actually. 15k words. I don’t know how I was able to produce so many words for these events ngl I hope I can redo that this year ANYWAY. first impressions? shallow angst. I think that’s what this is gonna be TO ME, because I’m the author and I hate myself. this was written almost a year ago… ough

- the descriptions will be Okay, but could be Better. I think I’ve gotten better at those hopefully.

- I was writing a lot of 80s angst during this time period and this was the second in that bunch. loose ties and ends, that one kid from jersey, unfortunate ends, like?? I was on a roll. what was wrong with me (still wrong with me)

- the gnomes are here? damn. I like gnomes

- oh that summary. already fucking me up

- I’m going in with the mindset that even at the time I knew that there was improvement to be had. This is my growing. I’m STILL growing. we can do this. I was still trying to find my groove. NOW LETS GOOOOOO

He’s left the damned duffel bag.

The one thing he had to take, and he’s left it behind. Stan has nothing to curse but his own self, because how is he so stupid as to not notice for a whole day? He’d spent the whole day driving through Oregon, hopping from gas station to gas station and it’s only now, the next morning, that he realizes there are no extra clothes to change into?

already onto a great start /genuine. an earlier draft had this to be a Lot more aggressive—using exclamation points and harsher language and shit, but once I realized that it would be a little odd that we start so strong, I toned it down. I think it gives a bit more of ‘resonate despondence’, which is very (sometimes) stan

Ford had always been bad at explaining things. He always expected the listener to know exactly what he’s talking about, be at his exact intelligence level, so that his ‘explaining’ could be understood with just a few words. 100% of the time, that isn’t the case.

literally me. best but of ford characterization someone could have conjured fr

okay already a detour but did you guys know I read my fics in my head in a VERY SPECIFIC tone, and that’s why most of the italicizations and em dashes exist? that’s why they’re there because if someone doesn’t read it the way I do I slowly die inside /silly I still do it today and I have to remind myself that I shouldn’t have to do everything for my reader. I should trust them.

(Yeah, Stan wants to let his anger out, but he’s not gonna kill the guy. Ford looks fragile enough as it is, and if he fights any harder he’ll probably break his leg or a rib. No point in damaging him, really.)

yes that’s so nice stan. you’re such a good brother dude oh my GOD IM—

this whole ford pleading scene here. here’s some bits;

“It…” Ford inhales deeply. “It’s not forever. I just need it away.”

“I don’t—Stan, I don’t want you to sail away to the ends of the Earth.”

“This—this, right here, I can’t do it.” Ford gestures to the portal wildly, giving it a scowl that could give Stan a run for his money. He almost thinks it’s directed at him, since he stands in front of the machine’s eye. “I can’t fix this!”

oh I’m feeling the feelings what the fuck. I can hear the last dialogue SO WELL. I remember vividly rewatching atots like four times just to listen to the fight and I’m still not desensitized. like the way ford delivers such a genuinely misguided request and seeing nothing wrong with how it might be worded which ALSO being on the verge of snapping? yeah ford I’ll give you a pass you’re going through shit. I’m so glad it still reads!!!

“I’m already too far gone, Stanley, an-and I can’t think of anyone else, anyone who would want to help.”

ohhhhhi can hear this too. it’s a Hint you know. it’s supposed to tip you off; something is REALLY wrong….

okay I’m restraining myself from pasting this entire ford exchange but it’s so GOOD. I’m flattering myself. And I didn’t even take that long on it I remember I wrote most of chapter one in a single burst. everything you see? barely edited. all put on at once. threw up on a page. I was feeling things

Ford sets the Journal aside. He, aside from the glaring obvious, does not look shaken up. “Yes, I know. Never… see me again.”

He sounds bitter. Almost too bitter for his liking. It’s almost contagious, from how it seems to roll off him and outwardly.

“You…” Stan has to phrase this kindly. “You know I don’t want that, right?”

Ford doesn’t relax. Instead, his gaze only darkens. “I know.”

i remember crying. I was tearing UP. that’s them. that’s something I would say if I were stan. make sure they know that I don’t want that. I…!!!!

Stan wonders what Stan will say.

one of the few bits I was smiling for when writing this….

So he should be here.

I forgot the name for this literary device even though I started using it religiously after this BUT YEAHHHHHHHH GET OUR FEELINGS BABE

not gonna paste it but what ford(‘s body) is hiding by. I’m gonna be honest despite watching atots so much I forgot where the portal opened. like dead ass, so I made it up. the bookshelf is supposed to be the portal. I think the fic ‘by the skin of your teeth’ was still severely affecting me and that was the portal in that fic. this is what you get when you don’t check your references. it literally happened to me yesterday! I was finishing up chapter six of do you remember hanging up the stars and it was about aziraphale and crowley on the ark back in 3000 bc right. I forgot what the ark looked like other than a Single Memory so I bullshitted it. I then remembered I had a Resource, Checked, and it was. well I completely forgot about where the humans would’ve gone. lol

I can’t paste it all bc it’s like the whole fic but Stan’s DENIAL. the way he’s sooooo deep in it that it’s a physical jarring when he’s ripped out of it. he’s literally such a denial grieved it’s SICK and I can’t believe I wrote it so easily. Ahem. that says things I think whether good or bad is up to your interpretation

some of these dialogues are weirdly cut off. I think Stan’s a lot more of a run on sentencer. hm

okay now I’m getting into the secondhand embarrassment that would probably be extreme heartbreak had into created this. I think at this point I was very emotionally worn down; not just from writing but Life too. there’s not much to say. it just Exists

oh that fucking letter. fucking letters. I love ford letters you know that they’re so delectable especially when he’s allowed to make them long. this WHOLE THING. wow. and the way he OPENS IT. classic ‘we don’t have much time’ action type beat *writes a two paged letter*. also the crossing out things. I’m a fucking genius. augh

I don’t know if you would like to stay in Gravity Falls after this, but I would like you to do two things, the two things I could not.

UHM EXCUSE ME YOU REALLY THINK SO?? LIKE GENUINELY??? woah buddy. anyways this hurts me because I know he’s being genuine about this he DOESNT know if Stan would like to stay. he doesn’t know. HE DOESNT KNOW—

Unless there is an afterlife, this is Stanford Pines, your brother, signing off.

(Thank you, Stan. For everything.)

THAT. THAT? I was kicking my little evil feet oh I WAS. I was thinking ‘what could I do in character that could REALLY fuck you up?’ and I landed there. I loved it so much I literally used the thank you ploy again for a recent whumptober entry and it STILL HIT FOR ME. like. ford and thank yous. always painful 🥹

Two: After all this?

Stan isn’t planning to last a week.

see look it’s funny because. because the summary is about stan always following through with his plans. it was a parallel. he went through with a plan and it resulted in ford fucking off the face of the earth. so now he’s got a new one. new mission, new plan, new end. I loved thatshit…..

He didn’t expect for the pawn off to be so violent.

I had a very different opening here; it was something with bill watching everything before unfold and THEN cut to ford going through with the plan? but then I decided ‘hey wait a sec we never see stan LEAVE after that little flashback. how did that leaving go?’ and now we’re here. damn I even had an alt opening

now that we know ford’s suicide is inevitable (and that we’re in his head) I start slathering that foreshadowing everywhere….

“Okay. Okay, I’ll go. But I’m comin’ back, ya hear me? I’m not leavin’ you again.”

it’s giving crowley saying ‘I’m coming back, I won’t leave you alone’. hehehe

It does untangle, after a few seconds of frantic pulling and Ford’s shouting beforehand.

Stan doesn’t have the decency to apologize. He flaps his palm as if he got burned. “Yeesh. Your hair’s a mess.”

look it’s funny because. because. well you know. hair untangling. corpse

“And get some fucking sleep! You look half-dead!”

There it is.

yeahhhhhhh I was just being mean. stan babygirl he’s already going to do it. don’t add insult to injury

It was time to enact Plan A. If Plan A didn’t work (which it had to. He didn’t even have a Plan B) then it’d be time to panic.

the original title for this fic (like the FIRST ONE. not when I turned this into a two parter) was called ‘Plan B’, because 1) plan A indeed does not work and plan b is suicide, and 2) B for Bill. :)

But knowing Stanley, he’d find a way to show just how pissed off he was at Ford even if he was in the afterlife.

:) x2. still proud of this

When Fiddleford first learned of the gnomes, he was more than disturbed. Almost spooked. Ford had insisted that as long as you had bug spray and mushrooms, they would be manageable. Sadly, Fiddleford had thought mushrooms ‘takin’ care of the problem’ would be in warding them away, that mushrooms were a repellant of some kind.

FIDDLEFORD MY BELOVED!!!! I love writing beats like this I still do. it’s just so nice to take random hcs and put them in the most tense and matter of fact situations just to distract us a little. make us look away, but not entirely. ough

He wants to shake on it.

it’s the little traumas that break our hearts.

okayyyyyy I’ll be honest ford leaving the portal for someone else to kill it is Very ooc. I’ll admit that. but I need my Scenario!!!!! I don’t regret it. just know that I acknowledge it. *cries*

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the ‘method’. oh ‘the method’. fucking kills me. he debated ont his. rationally. RATIONALLY I WAS LITERALLY THAT ONE MEME THATS SCREAMING AT MY CHARACTERS TO STOP BUT IM THE ONE WHOS PUTTING THEM THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE—

ough. the bullet points. okay I’m running out of commentary steam but let me say this. I asked for hcs on my blog right? so I could put some of those here because even I run out of hcs eventually, and people DELIVERED. I loved them. I put every single one in at least One point, and seeing these tiny memories just spring up at he’s doing this is like that thing with the fiddleford/mushrooms bit. he’s distracting himself. making th situation less scary in his eyes. OUGH

OH AND THE PILLS NOT BEING FORD’S BUT STAN’S? ONE OF MY KAST ALTERATIONS BUT SOOOOOOO WORTH IT. NO NOTES JUST ULTIMATE ANGST

Ford had considered being a doctor for some time while in elementary school. It was a given, considering his intelligence and avid nature towards sciences. His love for the supernatural always gave in however, and it has won every battle. But for a long time after, a part of him wanted to be a chemist, a manufacturer, a creator. Sure, it soon became a pipe dream, but for a while it was a genuine choice.

But Ford is an experimenter. He realized early on that he wouldn’t be able to resist pouring the components and chemicals on his skin, if only to see how they would react to human flesh.

motherfucker.that guy is literally me

btw these spaces after the em dashes are killing my soul. I remember once that I thought everyone else was wrong with no spaces and I was right. Oh, past me. No.

How could you not love someone like that?

God, he’s never going to see him again.

*SNIFF*

4.5 million humans in the world. 230 million humans in America. 7 million in New Jersey. 2 million in Oregon. Around sixty or seventy species of anomalies in Gravity Falls alone. And that doesn’t even account past Earth, if Crash Site Omega was accounted for.

I had to look all that shit up I don’t even know if it’s right. at first it’d been modern day stats but THEN I remembered that we’re in the fucking 1980s so ofc it’s different. ALSO LOOOK I FUCKED UP IT SAYS MILLION NOT BILLIONS. IM GONNA DIE. FUCK. either way we stay silly we stay silly!!! just know that little paragraph has caused me so much grief.

Ford always hated funerals.

this was the beginning of the ‘we hate funerals’ saga. still do hate them. I hate them, ford hates them, crowley hates them, ALL OF THE HOMIES HATE THEM 🫵🫵 /j

Mania is a feeling he knows well, and this is not that.

lmao name drop *i was on the verge of tears*

It’s Ford, the snow, and his candle, which has no more wax to burn.

THE TITLE THE TITLE THE TITLE—

the spacing. the html gave me sooooo much trouble but it was worth it!!!! every space was deliberated and checked and shit. ough. OUGH

okayyyy im capping it here because I’m so so tired. but!!! here it is. I just. wow. Less yet more corny than I thought this would be. I hope you enjoyed that little roller coaster, and I’m off on Life Adventures. Which means Errands. fuck…..

#ask game #the guys (with a z!)#so so so sorry my dude. but it’s here!!! ahH

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suchsaccharine · 1 year

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330am and have no intention of trying to sleep at this point. I just need to keep this in the for front of my mind today while I’m working.

Keep in mind that once I leave for work, redo-sing is not an option.

My hs reunion is this weekend.

Gonna want to be rested for that.

For sure.

Actually in the past month (sober) I’ve made much much much more progress in my wl mission than in months prior. Sleeping is where it’s at.

But I had a moment of weakness and I gave in, and now I’ve got to see my decision through to the end.

The end.

I want to cut out random drvg sessions. Like randomly ordering ket, c0ke, speed, mdm@ once every other month. Like where would I be if I didn’t…where could I be if I don’t stay right where I’m at? I have a strong argument for the opposite side, but I do consider this.

I think I’m going to try it.

Cut out everything but my dabs and herb.

Might avoid the tempting redbull substitution this time bc that felt great at first, and then it didn’t.

I lay next to my baby while they sleep and I wish I could enjoy watching them sleep peacefully for so much longer. The sun will rise soon.. another day of being flooded with internal declarations of parental shortcomings and failures. I’ve not felt so genuinely ready to not be here since I had convinced myself I had contracted an incurable sti for like a full 6 months in the first half of 11th grade. But this time it’s not cause of inevitable aloneness, or even disliking raising my child, but that I can see almost nothing but mistakes every single day and I’m starting to believe and accept that I’m kind of not the greatest and that he may be happier in the short+long term if I just..went. I know that probably sounds crazy. And I don’t feel like a bad person or a mean person… but I feel like I could be doing better. And I am trying. Like everyday I consciously attempt to be better than the day before, or at least be very self aware of what I’m projecting.. and I still just feel like I’m failing this kid. I see them laugh and smile and joke and goof off but in my mind …. It’s like I’m so worried ab what could be having a last or traumatizing effect on them, that I truly cannot steer my thoughts in another direction. All day. And all night.

I remember feeling this genre of anxiety for the first time - the first night we were home from the hospital. I don’t think I slept at all. Between feedings I was just in shock. And that was over 8 yrs ago.

See, I wasn’t supposed to have them when I did. It was just a check up and their dad just left me 2 weeks prior and I was only 19 and it was over a month before the actual due date. When they put that baby in my chest, I never felt more lost and confused and helpless in my entire life. I felt bad that I wasn’t having that magical moment that you hear about. But I suspected, during my pregnancy, that I might not. Looking back I can see that I had detached myself from my surroundings and my self because my life had become very actively traumatic. It took me years to figure out that’s why I have and haven’t done a lot of the things I did…and didn’t. Maybe within the last 3 yrs I’ve really been trying to come to terms with everything in the past so I can be better from my child today, and tomorrow. But anyway…

Idk why I typed all that out as if I haven’t written about this in other journals. I guess it’s not the backstory I’m fixated on rn, it’s the current climate. I just can’t tell if they’re happy or not. They told me last night about a disturbing nightmare they’ve been having for about 3 months, which is almost how long my partner for 4yrs (-1.5) have been back together. My partner cares for tha kid a lot and is a good role model. But I feel he is sometimes too quick to be too stern. It’s disheartening. But, He will ensure my child has every opportunity for a successful future. And I’m deathly afraid I can’t provide that all by myself. What’s the lesser of two evils? And while my partner is stern, my child usually has an overall positive shift in behavior with them around. But sometimes I can just see where they are miscommunicating and honestly I am often a bit more ‘on the side’ of my kid because as I observe them together, I can basically see what my kid meant by what they said, why they phrased it how they did, why they are frustrated that you don’t seem to be on the same page. I see it play out across his expressive features clear as day.

I’m only one tiny person. I wish I had all the answers. I don’t. I just really really hope the decisions I make about him do not make him worse off than he would be otherwise. God I feel like shit for bringing him into my mess of a life.

#eedee #drvgs #i feel so guilty #trailer trash #better off without me #i’m sorry #cross to bear #selfish #teen parents #rice cake nation #failure #eedee tumblr #eedeetwt #stupid #trauma #giving birth

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lianahayze · 11 months

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Shadow and Midnight Misery: Chapter 9

I need to get better at consistent updates, huh?

Chapter 9: Reaching Out

The clock on the wall is loud. Each tick reverberates throughout my body, putting me on edge. I cross and uncross my legs, staring down at my faded denim jeans. My nails, which I'd painted a few days ago, are chipped. I need to get them professionally done.

"Shadow?"

"Hmm?" I look up. Seated across from me, Dr. Norris is staring. I believe she's just asked me something, but I don't know what it was about. “Sorry. What did you just say?”

I’ve only been in her office for five minutes, and I’m already having trouble concentrating. I’ve uncomfortable, and it’s just because I’m still new to this whole therapy thing. No, I’m uncomfortable because I know she’s going to have us about the missed appointment.

As if reading my mind, Dr. Norris says, "You know, I was a bit disappointed when you didn't show up for your last appointment. Not just because I believe you need help--we agreed you need help--but also because your time slot could have been given to someone else."

Now I really feel bad. I squirm around uncomfortably. "I forgot," I mutter, looking away from her.

"Didn't we call you and leave a message?"

I sigh. She can tell I’m lying. Note to self: do not try to bullshit Dr. Norris. "Okay, I did have other things going on, but I also just didn't want to come."

"Then why didn't you just cancel?"

I shrug. I don’t say it was because I was afraid to do so, instead, I say, "Just got caught up. My band just got a new studio, so we've been focused on that."

Actually, I've been focused on it--not them. I've been the one busy moving everything and setting up the equipment. Sure, I hadn't actually tried to reach out to them, but that was because Wyatt had made it very clear that he doesn't want anything to do with me. I assume they feel the same way.

"That's exciting. What else have you been up to?"

"Nothing." Mostly, I’ve been trying to stay away from Dean. I want to hang out with him, but I know it would be a disaster. Whenever we’re together, we’re always drinking and doing drugs, and, right now—more than ever—I need to avoid that.

But I miss him.

"You look sad."

"Hmm?" I look at Dr. Norris. I didn't realize I'd been staring at the wall.

"What else is on your mind?"

"Oh." Again, I fidget. There's a lot on my mind, none of which I want to bring to the surface. Lately, my brain's been working overtime to repress things I'd spent years trying to forget. Most of the time I don't have any trouble, but this whole "sober living" thing is making it hard. "There's just a lot of band stuff."

"I bet it’s hard sometimes,” she says, “being so well-known and easily recognizable.”

I shrug. "It's nothing I can’t handle, and I know how to lay low. Besides, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.”

"How is the journaling going?" When I don't answer, she frowns. "Shadow, we had a deal. Keeping a daily journal is going to be key to your success."

I know she's right but don't want to admit it.

"Have you at least made an attempt?"

Though it’s been hard, I tell her that I have. Taking fifteen minutes a day to write down my thoughts and feelings? Boring. There are so many other things I’d rather do. At most, I write three to four sentences before giving up. It’s an absolute pain.

“But you don't see yourself doing it long term?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Not really."

"I thought you enjoyed writing."

Yeah, I enjoy writing music. Lyrics are different from a journal. With lyrics, I can go back to redo them, warp them into whatever reality I choose. That's not something I can do with a diary. Once it's on the page, it's on the page. Do people even go back and ready their diaries? I would cringe.

"It's different," I tell her. "Lyrics are just easier." I pause. "Well, they're easy to get out on a first attempt."

"So, you're expecting your recovery to be easy, then?"

"No, I--" She's trapped me, and we both know it. I sigh. "I never expect anything to be easy," I say, "but I also don't want to spend every single evening pouring my heart into some diary that's going to be completely useless once I'm done with it."

"So, what you're saying is that you don't like to do anything that doesn't have an immediate value?"

"No? Maybe? She's confusing me.

"What I'm saying is that there are other things that are a better use of my time."

It's just like this therapy session. Do I think I need to be here? Hell no. I'm perfectly fine, but everyone else is acting like they don’t want anything to do with me until I get some sort of professional “help.”

"If you don't think keeping a journal will help you, what will?" I tilt my head to the side, not quite sure what to say. "The whole point of the journal is to give you dedicated a few minutes each and every day to reflect. The words that you put down matter, yes, but it's even more important to get in the habit of self-reflection. That's what this exercise it all about. So what can you do instead?"

I don't answer. I sort of get where she's coming from, but I also think it just seems like so much effort, having to do something every single day at the exact same time. If I'd wanted a schedule, I would have picked a normal job and work nine to five.

"Shadow, I'm happy to discuss alternatives, but you need to bring them to the table first. I can't just have you forget daily self-reflection without giving you something to put in its place." She pauses for a moment. "Would you consider yourself spiritual or religious?"

"Nope. Not really." Prayer's not my thing, if that's what she's asking.

"Do you do any meditation or yoga?"

Again, I shake my head. Being alone with my own thoughts is an absolute nightmare, and I don't even have half the flexibility required for yoga. I went through a phase where I did kickboxing regularly, but that was a long time ago.

"Would you be open to doing either? Meditation can be tough when you first start out, but there are benefits to being able to calm your mind."

"How is that supposed to help get me off drugs and alcohol?"

"The drugs and alcohol are a symptom. They're the effect, not the cause. That means there's an underlying condition that we need to treat."

An ‘underlying condition’? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"I've still been smoking." I don't know what possesses me to tell her that, and the words slip passed my lips before I can stop them. My body grows hot, and I don't know if it's from my stupidity or embarrassment.

"I appreciate you telling me that. Have you noticed if you do it under certain circumstances?" When I don't say anything, she asks, "Are you upset before you do it? Happy? What are you doing when the urges come on?" I still don't say anything. "Have you been giving yourself the ten minutes to think before you do it?"

I groan. "Fine! I haven't been doing that, either."

"Shadow, that's okay. Try not to feel guilty or beat yourself up over it. But if you do feel guilty, know that it's because, even subconsciously, you're admitting to yourself there's something you'd like to change. Maybe it's something about yourself, how you treat others, or even something as simple as how you structure your day, but there's something that you want to change. Can you think of anything you wish were different?"

There are a lot of things I wish were different in my life. There are a lot of things in my past that I wish hadn’t happened, but I'm not ready to talk about those things. I'm not about to spill the beans to someone I've just met because they have "doctor" in front of their name.

So, instead of confessing, I shrug, saying, "Maybe it would be nice if I didn't drink so much." Mostly because the hangovers can be an absolute nightmare.

"That's a really good place to start, and I'm proud of you for admitting that. Have you been drinking?"

"I haven't been hanging out with my friends, so no." She frowns, making me say, "What?"

"Do you think your friends would only hang out with you if you're drinking?"

"No--I mean... It's not like it's all we do." I think back to the morning after the party at Lynn's place. Dean had offered to make me breakfast, helped me hunt for my purse, and had gotten me some clothes to wear. They're all small things, but they stick out so clearly. Dean actually is a good person; maybe he’ll still want to hang out with me if I tell him the truth?

"I think you should continue with the journal," she says, pulling me from my thoughts. "If it's still not working during our next meeting, we can come up with something else. Group therapy, for example."

As she types, I gag. I physically gag. Group therapy? As in sitting in a circle and discussing my feelings with a group of strangers who are probably more fucked up than I am? No thank you. If it's a choice between the journal and sharing my feelings with a bunch of random people I don't know, I'll gladly take the journal.

For the rest of the session, Dr. Norris just lets me talk. I don’t have a lot to say, but she doesn't seem to mind. Mostly, we sit in silence, the only noise coming from the clacking of her fingertips on the keyboard. When it comes time for me to leave, she gives me plans for over the following week.

"I have some homework for you," she says. She looks excited, and it worries me. "Keep up the journaling. Even if it's a headache, I promise you it will get easier. I want you to think about exercising, too."

"Exercising?" I look down at my stomach, confused. "Do I need to lose weight?"

"Not at all." I look back up at her. "But it will make you feel better overall. It doesn't have to be anything intense, and just dedicating ten minutes a day to stretching and moving your body will have profound effects. Make sense?" I nod.

"How would you say your relationships are with your friends right now?"

"Nonexistent with the band." It's brutal and blunt but also the truth.

"Okay, maybe this week you can work on reaching out to them. I'm sure you've had some conversations with them since we last spoke." Yeah, but none of them have been positive. "So reach out again.”

"What if they don't want to talk to me, though?"

"Then at least you can say you tried. Can you do that?"

Though I don’t really see the point, I agree.

"After all, they're probably wondering what's going on in your world, as well."

They're probably wondering when is the earliest they can kick me out of the band, but I don't tell her that. Instead, I force a smile and say,

"Yeah, no problem."

She returns my smile, probably not even realizing mine is fake.

After we finish up, I swing by the front desk to schedule my next appointment. After that's done, I leave and walk out to my car. I get in, buckle up, and turn the key in the ignition, but instead of immediately leaving, I sit there, my hands gripping the steering wheel. As if expecting something, I look out the rearview mirror, but nothing every comes.

I reach into my purse and pull out my phone. I start to type a text but, shaking my head, tell myself not to. Not because I shouldn't reach out, but because I should actually call.

I dial Dean's number and wait. Not going to bed until three or four in the morning most nights, it’s probably a bit early for him right now. I don't expect him to answer, so, when he does, my stomach immediately knots up.

"Yo." It's like it's the first time I'm hearing his voice in years. "'Bout time you gave me a call. I was beginning to think you switched your number or something."

I laugh, but it makes me sound nervous. Ignoring his last several texts wasn't nice, but it had been the only option I'd had.

Until now.

"What's going on?" he asks. "What have you been up to?"

"You wouldn't believe if I told you."

"Try me."

I star down at the floor. I need to vacuum, I realize.

I look back outside. "Wanna meet up later today?" I ask. He agrees, offering dinner. "But can you not bring Lynn along? Just wanna talk to you."

“Uh-oh. Sounds serious." I know he's joking, but he has absolutely no idea how right he is.

"Seven?" I ask.

"Sure. Lemme know where you want to meet up."

We say our goodbyes and hang up the phone. I didn't realize it before, but I'm shaking. My hands tremble as I stick my phone in the cup holder. I adjust my mirror; I turn my wipers on and off. I'm doing everything to keep myself from driving. It's like I don't trust myself to.

I don't know what I'm going to tell him-- only that I have to tell him something. Part of me wants to call him back--to say, "actually, never mind"-- but I grip the steering wheel, forcing myself to not reach for my phone.

I look at the time.

Well, I have five hours to figure it out.

See you at chapter 10!

#satmm #free fiction #music novel #writer #music #writing #novelist #writing life

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rezdragon · 1 year

Text

Anyways, here’s your current project list (things I am working on right now, February 12, 2023):

Normal I actually did work on it a little bit Friday afternoon. I was gonna work on it this weekend, but I’m almost done with cataloging my tapes, so I worked on that instead. Normal is about 85% done for the regular content anyways. There’s two “bonus scenes” I want to work on, and those require some additional foley work. I also need to redo my voice acting for both bonus scenes and one other scene because I sounded terrible. I might do that next week if work doesn’t call me in early like they’ve been doing for the last two weeks. I’m not gonna offer anymore predictions on when Normal will be out since that kept getting pushed back. So Normal will be out when it’s ready.

Ghost Stories of North Idaho A compilation of short horror stories mostly based on things that have actually happened to me. This will be an album and I have a lot of recording ahead of me for it hng. Looking forward to working on it though, should be spooky. I got some great ghost stories written up. I need to fine tune and edit them before I begin recording anything. Have no idea when this will be out.

Short Film This has been my main focus for the last two weeks or so. It’s another auto-bio affair, where I’m reflecting on my past work (and by past work, I mean work from 10 to 15 years ago). I haven’t decided on the name of it yet and I’ve been taking my very sweet time writing it. This will probably come out before the other two, and within the next month or so.

Projects that I have on the back burner for now, but have plans for:

The Trickster Need to finish the series outline and then start script writing it. Gotta get back into the mood to work on it. I suddenly lost it when I got caught up in the whirlwind of working on Tasukete haha.

Orintheous’ Revenge I need to light a certain someone’s ass on fire for lines, and I need to rewrite the scene where Orintheous and Co. are introduced because I hate the original (I have to get everyone to redo their voice acting anyways). I’ve been stuck on where to take the scene that feels the most natural. Sometime, I really need to sit down and work out the series bible for OR.

The Disaster Archives (other stories) Still working on TDA’s series bible too. I got a little writer’s block trying to think of how to describe the other characters (also felt bad because Rez’s section is 12 pages long, where as Myth’s will only be like 3 pages. I mean SHE IS THE MAIN CHARACTER but god). Like I said, next story is Everyday, but I am not allowing myself to touch any additional stories (aside from minor planning) until Normal is finished so I don’t abandon it.

Tasukete (title track) Music Video I REALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS, but I need to give myself the time to do so, and plan it out. Seriously, the title track is one of my favorite songs and I want a music video for it very badly.

Okay, that’s all for now!

#i also did this for myself to remind myself what the hell i'm working on because even i lose track haha

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

Cooking class

Word count: 2109

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: Very minor injury (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: Hey! I saw your post for a request and this idea popped into my head. Y/n is a fantastic cook, they can do everything right and make great food all the time, while Natasha usually sets towels on fire when they try. Y/n suggests that Natasha enrolls in a cooking class, and does it with them so Natasha doesn't feel so bad. Y/n ends up rewarding Natasha with little kisses and 'good job!'s for the things they do well in class, and eating bits and pieces of the foods they mess up to prove that it's still edible and they're learning

Summary: Natasha is a horrible cook so reader takes Natasha to a cooking class.

A/n: So this was an anon request so I hope whoever requested this likes it! Also this is the second fic in two days which may not seem like a big deal but I actually feel productive for once. Anyways I hope everyone enjoys and I hope to finish some of my other requests soon in case anyone is wondering, and I’m always open for new requests.

Natasha let out a frustrated sound so you looked over, trying not to laugh at your girlfriend but failing spectacularly.

“It’s not funny.” She whines looking over at you with an annoyed expression.

“Sorry love,” you respond, “keep going I promise not to interrupt again.” She narrows her eyes at you but turns back to her task. She’s preparing some pizza dough that she is going to use later on in the class and honestly you never thought someone could mess up on pizza dough that much. There is dough literally everywhere, the sink, counters, floor and even her face. The most funny thing however is how she is completely covered in flour from when she opened the bag wrong and it flew into her face. Surprisingly she agreed easily when you had suggested the idea, because she wanted to help out in the kitchens sometimes but she was banned from everything but the toaster for a reason the avengers called the pie incident but refused to speak further on when asked.

You glance back over at her to see how it’s going and although everything still is a mess it seems like she has managed to combine all the ingredients properly into a ball and is now kneading it. You step towards her and give her a hug from behind, not caring that flour was now getting all over you as well.

“Good job Tasha,” you whisper in her ear. You pull back and when you look at her face you see a slight hint of a blush. She rarely blushes but you always find it so cute when she does so you decide to make it your personal mission to get her to blush as much as possible today. She is just setting aside the dough to rise when the instructor speaks again.

“I see that most of you have already finished, or are just finishing up with your dough and setting it aside. From what I can tell it looks like everybody is doing well so far, however before we can continue everybody should make sure their workstation is clear.” As he says the last part he seems to look mostly at your workstation as well as the one diagonally in front of you, which are by far the two most messy.

Natasha starts clearing up the station while you brush as much flour as you can off of your clothes and wash your hands. As she continues to clear you grab a wet cloth and gently wipe down her face and arms to get rid of all the dough and flour. It takes awhile for the both of you and your workstation to be clear and once it is you realize everybody else is finished and waiting for you.

“Ok now that everybody is done,” this time he obviously glances your way, “we are going to prepare some of the toppings for later. This part shouldn’t be hard so just follow along with the recipe and ask for help if you need it.” Natasha picks up the recipe and you read over her shoulder.

“How about I help you with the topping but you do most of it?” You ask her. “We’ll both help cut up the peaches and make the balsamic sauce. This class is meant to be teaching you and not me after all.”

“Sounds good,” she replies while taking a peach and placing it on the cutting board. She starts to chop but she keeps slicing way too thick at the top and way too thin at the bottom. You giggle slightly and she narrows her eyes at you scowling and puts down the knife.

“I’m not laughing at you Nat, I promise.” You explain. “Well I am but can you blame me? You are a crazy good assassin that probably can kill me easily with that knife in many different ways yet you can’t cut a peach properly.”

“I still don’t see how that is funny.” She huffs but with a hint of a smile.

“I’m sorry, here let me help you.” You grab her hands and guide them into making steady cuts. When the first peach is fully cut up you step back again.

“Why don’t you try to do the next one on your own?” You suggest. She nods and starts to cut seeming a little unsure of herself. While it’s not perfect it’s much better than the first time so when she finishes you let out a small cheer and kiss her on the cheek. She gives a hesitant smile which you’ve learned means she feels good about herself but doesn’t know how to express it properly. You cut the rest of the peaches in silence, her slices gradually getting better.

“You’ve already improved so much!” You praise her, your heart melting when you see her smile and blush. “Why don’t you try the next part on your own?”

“Ok,” she answers, “I think I can do this part.” She starts mixing a few of the ingredients for the balsamic glaze and you, thinking she had it under control, start to glance around because you want to see how the others in the class are doing.

“Eeekk!” You hear Natasha squeal so you quickly look back over at her. The glaze is splashed all over the front of her and splattered all over the counter.

“What happened?” You ask, this time managing to only laugh inwardly as to not offend her.

“I thought if I mixed it as fast as I could the ingredients would combine faster,” she states, “but then this happened.”

You fight hard to keep your straight face, “Tasha, love, that’s not how cooking works.”

“Well I know that now.” She responds in an annoyed tone.

“I know and it’s okay, you can just redo it while I clean this up, does that sound good?” She nods and starts finding the ingredients she needs again while you take some paper towel and clear up the counter. Unfortunately you can’t do anything about the mess on Natasha’s shirt but luckily she purposefully wore a shirt she didn’t mind getting messy.

“Everybody should be just about done by now,” the instructor says, gathering the attention of the class, “Right now I want you to put flour on your counters and start to split your dough up to make the flat breads. Then you can put some topping on and pop them in the oven, make sure not to burn them.” The rest of the class immediately gets to work but before you or Natasha can start the instructor comes up to you.

“I’m sorry to bother you but I’ve noticed that you’ve been having some trouble, so don’t be afraid to ask for any help,” he says, “it is my job.” Natasha is obviously not pleased by what he said and scowls at him, opening her mouth to speak.

“Thank you, we will.” You say quickly before Natasha says something rude. He nods and turns away to go back to the front.

“I wasn’t doing that badly.” Natasha states.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s move onto the next step, why don’t you preheat the oven?” You respond to her, avoiding her statement because she really was doing ‘that badly’. She grabs the flour and opens it, this time making sure that she doesn’t get it all over, and then starts to put it on the counter. Meanwhile you get the dough and split it up into two pieces, one pizza for each of you.

“I’m going to be bad at this part.” She says with a small frown.

“No, no, no, don’t say that Tasha,” you rush to encourage her, “this part is the best part because it’s so fun, and it’s impossible to mess up!”

“If you say she.” She says doubtfully and you laugh. Both of you get to work, at first just playing with the dough in your hands to get a feel for it and after that using a rolling pin to flatten the dough. When you’re finished you take a step back to admire your work.

“Huh, it doesn’t look that bad.” Natasha decides.

“It looks amazing, I knew you could do it Tasha!” You exclaim while hugging her side and pressing a few quick, light kisses to the side of her neck.

“I mean it’s not a huge deal.” She blushes.

“Still, it’s pretty good,” you tell her, “but now we need to focus on putting our topping on.”

She giggles. “You say that like it’s something that requires a lot of thought.”

You gasp dramatically. “Ms. Romanoff, the presentation is the most important part of the dish, it requires a lot of attention to detail.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how I forgot!” She plays along. “Why would the actual cooking part matter when you can focus on making them look good?”

“Exactly.” You tell her before both of you get to work, putting all the topping on the flatbread.

As much as you joked about it you tried to make yours look as good as possible and when you were done although it didn’t look perfect you were satisfied with how it looked. At least until you glanced over to see how Natasha did.

“How did you manage to make yours look like it should be in a cookbook?” You ask her, truly amazed by how pleasing it looks and not even knowing how she can make something as average as topping look like art. She just blushes and shrugs, pleased with herself but not wanting to admit it out loud.

“Anyways we should probably get them in the oven now because it looks like others are starting to.” You tell her.

“Of course, I’ll put them in!” She replies quickly, transferring the flatbreads onto two trays and shoving them in the oven. You lean over after she shuts the door and set the timer but when you look back at her and smile, you see she is standing by the sink with the water running over her hand.

“Tasha are you ok?” You ask, immediately rushing over to her.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just a small burn.” You examine her hand and it doesn’t look as small as most burns people get from cooking but then again Natasha gets injured all the time so this probably isn’t a big deal to her.

“Ok, but just make sure to take care of it.”

“I will don’t worry, I swear I’m the only one on the team who actually knows how to take care of themself sometimes. Remember the time Tony forgot to eat and collapsed?” You laugh at what she said. Although in the moment it was scary, in hindsight it was a funny story to tell.

The two of you keep bringing up old avengers moments and exchanging mission stories until you hear the timer beep. Everybody seems to have put their flatbreads in at the same time because there must be at least ten timers going off and it’s so loud you can’t even think. Luckily Natasha doesn’t seem to have the same problem because she grabs oven mitts this time so she doesn’t burn herself again and pulls the flatbreads out of the oven.

Her face falls when she sees them. The one on the top shelf, although somewhat crispy looking, seems fine but the one on the bottom shelf is practically black on the bottom.

“How did this happen?” She asks. You take a moment to think because the only way it could have happened was if Natasha had preheated the oven to the wrong temperature but you don’t want to discourage her.

“Well maybe you accidentally set the wrong temperature,” you tell her gently, deciding to be truthful, “it doesn’t matter though, because it still looks great!” She attempts a smile but looks thoroughly unconvinced. In order to try to make her feel better you grab the knife from earlier and cut a tiny piece off the edge. Your first instinct is to make a face when you put it in your mouth because it really does taste bad but you smile through that.

“See Tasha? It’s fine.”

“Y/n, it’s ok I know it’s bad and while I’m disappointed I’m not upset,” she says, “thank you for trying to cheer me up anyways.”

“Ok, fine I have to admit it was pretty burnt. But the other one looks good and besides I’m sure whatever we make next week will turn out better.” Her eyes widen and her mouth opens and you laugh at her.

“Next week? Y/n, we’re doing this again next week???”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #y/n #x reader #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #reader insert

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hqbbg · 4 years

Text

mistakes.

pairing: tsukishima x reader

anon request: I'm craving for some angst rip. Can I request a tsukishima x reader Angst one shot based on the song "moral of the story" by ashe. The song hit really close to home when the song said " young people fall in with the wrong people sometimes. " and also one of the lyrics kinda reminded me if Tsuki-Y/N 's relationship was strained " fought the whole time should've seen the signs" 😭😭😭😭 Thank you love your writing btw

genre: angst

word count: 1.4K

warnings: toxic relationship

author’s note: ok let me start off by saying I'm SO SO SO SORRY that it took me literally centuries to respond to this!! pls forgive me, dear anon 🥺 not gonna lie, I think this was just a little hard for me to write because the song (although really good) hits really close to home but anyways, I still hope you enjoy it! 💖

“I think we should take a break.”

Time stops as you feel your heart drop to your stomach. Your hands are trembling, and you do your best to hide them from view in your lap under the table you’re sitting at in a café. You chose to do this in public with the purpose of wanting to avoid breaking down in front of him, knowing that the idea of strangers seeing you crying was embarrassing enough to keep you from doing so, but heavy tears still line your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks anytime now.

Tsukishima says nothing and you look at him to see him looking back at you with hardly any emotion on his face, a shell of the man you’d fallen in love with.

You’re not sure when exactly everything had gone wrong, or if things were even right from the start.

When you had met, you were kids. You had been playing on your neighborhood playground with some other kids and noticed a commotion nearby, turning your head to see a kid around your age getting pushed to the ground by a group of bullies. You wanted to go over and help but stopped when a tall blond boy walked past and seemed to resolve the issue himself. You wanted to become his friend, so that’s exactly what you did.

Even though you went to different schools, you spent as much time as you could with him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much. The two of you had spent a lot of time together, occasionally accompanied by Yamaguchi—the small kid who was getting bullied—and the three of you had become a unique trio. As a result, you had been there whenever Tsukishima babbled on about how great his older brother was and witnessed the moment the image of his perfect brother was shattered into a million pieces.

Tsukishima had changed after that, growing distant and untrusting of those around him, including you. As a result, the two of you had stopped talking until high school; you were determined to become his friend again, doing as much as you could without being annoying.

You remember trying to find little excuses to talk to him during your first year and he’d brush you off every time. By the time your second year had rolled around, he seemed to have gotten used to you again and you were able to be bolder in your actions, asking him to study with you whenever you could. To your surprise, he agreed, and you did your best to get to know him all over again. He was still distant, but you started to pick up on little things he did to show that he cared for you.

The first time he had done something like that was when you had mentioned in passing that you’d been unable to eat breakfast because you were waking up late after staying up studying all night long. You had arrived at your desk one morning at school and saw a carton of milk and some bread sitting there. You had wondered who it was at first until Yamaguchi had asked if you received it because Tsukishima didn’t leave a note or any indication that it was specifically for you.

You weren’t sure when exactly your platonic feelings towards Tsukishima had shifted into something more romantic; all you knew was that you began to feel a little shyer and more nervous around him. He was quick to pick up on this, being as observant as he is, but let you take your time to admit your feelings for him at the end of your second year.

You probably should’ve seen the red flags when he flippantly suggested the two of you to start dating without saying that he returned your feelings, but you blinded yourself with the hopes that things would be okay.

During your third year, things seemed to be going fine, but you didn’t have much experience to make reference to. You thought the fighting and arguing was normal. You thought the neglect and invalidation of your feelings was normal.

“Why are you being so sensitive about this?” Tsukishima had asked you once when you had told him that you felt like he was treating you like a chore rather than a human being.

“You haven’t been answering my texts and calls,” you remember frowning, unable to contain the hurt from showing on your face.

“I told you that I’ve been busy,” he had responded with annoyance.

“I’m not asking for much, Kei,” your frown deepened, a sigh escaping past your lips. “I just feel like I haven’t been able to see you much lately.”

“I’ve had a lot of things to do,” he replied. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear, and he probably knew that. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

A lot of your talks had gone like this: you’d bring up a concern, he’d fail to understand, you’d get upset, and he’d apologize for the sake of not wanting to deal with the situation worsening; it was almost like clockwork. Part of you felt bad, as if you were a burden, but there were still moments in between these that gave you hope that Tsukishima cared for you deep down.

You’d go on dates every so often, some ending better than others, but you’d enjoy your time with him, nonetheless. Maybe it was because of the pain you felt more often than not that you’d learned to appreciate the good moments more. Maybe that was the problem.

The two of you ended up choosing to go to the same college and you had hoped that the freedom of not being under your parents’ roof would give you more time to spend with your boyfriend. You had been wrong.

Tsukishima found other things to busy himself with and the few times throughout the week that you’d spend together always ended in some kind of argument. You had gotten used to waking up with puffy eyes from crying yourself to sleep at night and keeping your feelings to yourself because you always felt overdramatic for bringing your concerns forward.

It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t spoken to him in over a week. You stopped texting him, tired of seeing his read receipts with no reply. You stopped calling, annoyed by the automated voice telling you that he was unavailable. You stopped going out of your way for him when he had stopped a long time ago.

Looking back, it’s not like you didn’t see this coming; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You’d made a mistake.

You’d fallen in love with the wrong person.

You’d spent so much of your life trying to pour yourself into someone who could never do the same and you were exhausted.

“Okay.”

Tsukishima’s simple response brings you back to your current reality. He looks unfazed and you know that he’s been expecting this too.

“I just have a question to ask,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. He raises an eyebrow at you, wordlessly telling you to go on. “Did you ever love me?”

Part of you shouldn’t be surprised when he doesn’t respond right away, but for some reason, your heart still hurts.

“I did.”

“When did you stop?”

You don’t want to know the answer, so you’re not sure why you ask.

“It’s not relevant.”

At least Tsukishima knows you well enough to know that the answer would break you no matter what.

“One last question,” you say, exhaling a shaky breath. “Did you regret ever dating me?”

The silence that follows feels deafening.

“No.”

You have a hard time believing him, though you try your best.

“That’s all I needed to know,” you say softly. You hadn’t even realized that the tears had begun falling until you felt them drip onto your hands.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Tsukishima sighs heavily as he stands up. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t bring yourself to watch as he leaves you alone one last time. You don’t care that there are people around you as you bury your face in your hands and begin to cry as quietly as you can manage. You’re painfully reminded of both the good and bad memories and the aching in your chest only seems to increase.

Despite all this, if you had the chance to go back and redo anything, you probably wouldn’t. You made a mistake, but you were going to learn from this.

You had simply fallen in love with the wrong person.

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu angst

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randomwords247 · 3 years

Note

When I’m drawing the ponytail I try to do the bump sort of thing, then the spikes and then finishing it, but the shape never looks right to me even if I’ve used a ref

These are the only examples I have on me but I’ve drawn her a lot in my sketchbook as well

Okay this is a quick sketch so it’s not my best but I’ll try and walk through my process

Normally when I get to the ponytail I will have already done the body and face and all. Same goes for her long hair - it usually isn’t until I’ve gotten at least the position of her body.

My assumption is (based off your drawings) that you usally for the bump do like a circle?

So sorta like this (I did like semi circles and then the spikes)

Thats not inherently bad and I don’t think it looks as bad as you think it does. I think it looks alright tbh. But again, not a bad thing to do, and it works.

For me with ponytails or hair bits that spike up at the end I usually do the first line (in blue) in one fell swoop

Its a super quick hand motion that I've sorta gotten used to doing for different things. It's like an unconscious motion I guess haha, like say certain reactions when playing video games on a controller. There's motions you don't think about or realise your doing with your hands, your not thinking about that, your just thinking about doing the action in the game. But doing it quick is essential or you’ll think too much/wobbly hand will come into play and it’ll look deliberate, won’t look as wavey etc. (Or at least it does for me jhasdhjsda) The spikes are one line too since its like second nature to me to do those sorts of bits with hair but thats like unconscious thing jhasdhjasd

And that's not to say it's easy to get it right when doing it quick, it took me a few times to get it to look right even for this. Ctrl z is your friend haha. Redoing a line multiple times to get it right is fine and it happens and goodness it's basically every line I do xD.

An easier way to do this kinda motion would be to use whatever equvilant you have of the Dynamic tool in krita (the program I use). Cuz of the adjustable mass it means you can go slower without getting as wobbly lines or you can make them smoother and more deliberate without making it look unnatural/non curvy. I usually use it for help with lineart jahsdhsd

And thats not to say my method is the most accurate either!

I mostly do mine from memory (since I keep only drawing ponytail Hilda when I can’t get a reference) but her ponytail is sorta more of a curve (which I dodn’t even illustrate the best but yknow). The bottom spikey covers most of the bottom of the ponytail, the top spikey extends as far out as the as the bump. And theres like a centre point too on the left side. So you could do that in two lines or two swoops to get more of an extruding bit but still have it seem circular and like one line. A lot comes from examining how the show does it and like figuring out ‘how could I do this consistently?’ which sometimes includes quite literally going over the lines and figuring out what works best for you to imitate that.

And it doesn’t always have to be show accurate! You could be mostly show accurate with a bit of your own flair (like what I’m tryna do) or you could straight up do it how YOU want the ponytail to look or how you like to draw ponytails! Anything works honestly. And my personal advice is to experiment and figure out what method works best for you/is easiest for you to do or replicate

So ye this is mostly how I do the ponytail (i think. Turns out having to think about what your drawing and how you draw it makes it harder to know how you draw normally. Like when you consciously think about say holding a knife and fork. Suddenly you don’t remember how to anymore...)

I hope this helps at least a little and is understandable, sorry I rambled a lot, but yeee ^^’‘

#ramble post #randy rambles #ask #nacho0 #gosh no one let me do tutorails im so bad at them AJHSDSJAD #hilda (hilda)#hilda netflix #hilda the series #my art #randy's art #sorry this took a bit i had dinner in between JASHDAJHSD #gosh i hope this is at least semi helpful

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

Robron week - day 5

I'll try to love you, best I can

Just made it! This wasn't originally what I was going to do for today but the Paddy story might take a little longer, so have another little look into the world I've created this week. I think most people have done a redo of the scene in the woods in SSW16 but here's mine anyway! I've also played a little fast and loose with the prompt and it's more hidden love than forbidden but close enough ;)

(AO3 link)

The door to the flat slamming behind him had a horrible sense of finality to it. He could've stayed, could've tried harder but he couldn't see the point any more. There was just no way around the elephant in the room.

He keeps walking to his car, head down, hands stuffed in his pockets hoping no one tries to talk to him because he’s not in the mood.

“Aaron! Aaron wait!” He doesn’t, keeps walking because he’s afraid he’ll end up saying something he’ll regret if he turns round. “Aaron come on, this is stupid.”

“Go home Robert.”

“No. We’re going to sort this now.”

“Go on then. Go tell your sister about me.” Robert doesn’t say anything just stares at the ground. “That’s what I thought. Go home Robert.” He’s not sure whether he’s relieved or disappointed when he does as he told him.

It’s an old argument, well a good month anyway even if it feels a lot longer. He’s fed up with sneaking around. At first it had been fun, new and exciting but now he wanted everyone to know how happy he was. His Mum had noticed and he’d been fobbing her off, even people at work were remarking on it, but he couldn’t tell them why because Robert was being so stubborn. He wouldn’t even talk about it so he had no idea if there was a reason behind it or if he was just being bloody minded.

He doesn’t see him for the next day or so, he’d taken on a double shift to earn some extra money and he’s about ready to drop when he gets home. His Mum collars him into having a pint because ‘it’s been too long since we had a chat Aaron’ so he’s propping up the bar while she flits around serving the customers, the chat looking like it’ll never happen.

He’s about to leave when Robert walks in with Vic and he can’t help but look at him, sees him avoid his gaze, making a point of checking on Seb at his side. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“Mum I’m going in the back.” He’s nearly through when Seb slams into his legs and whatever his problem with Robert he won’t turn him away. “Hey monkey.”

“Will you eat with us? We’re having chips cos we’re moving!” He hates how his heart drops at the words. Robert hadn’t mentioned anything and it feels pretty clear in his mind that it’s the reason he hasn’t told anyone about them, that it wasn’t going to last and now they were moving away.

It’d been six months since that night in the hospital, not much less since they went out for a drink, what turned into their first date, and he’d thought everything was good, that this was finally a relationship he could get right. Looks like he was wrong.

“Not tonight Seb. I’m really tired. Ask your Dad if I can take you to the park tomorrow and you can tell me all about it, eh?” He runs off happy enough with the excuse and he watches as he whispers to his Dad, Robert’s eyes finally meeting his. He wonders if he looks like that. He probably does, but there’s nothing either of them can do unless Robert makes a decision. He’s hidden before and he’s not doing it again.

He’s barely in his room when Robert’s there, looking sad maybe a little annoyed.

“Robert I’m tired. I’ve just done a double shift.”

“You should quit.”

“Not this again.” If the argument about them hiding was old, this one was even older. He’d only mentioned an old dream in passing and now Robert had taken it upon himself to bring up a change of career at every opportunity. If he could be stubborn about telling people then Aaron could be stubborn about this.

“You could be getting the experience you need to get the job you want, not wasting time pushing people around in trollies.”

“I like my job.”

“No you don’t. You do nothing but moan about it. What are you so afraid of?”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Aaron…”

“Were you going to tell me you were moving or was I just going to turn up at the flat one day to find you gone?” He looks taken aback and Aaron gets a fizz of satisfaction. “If you didn’t want me to know you shouldn’t have told Seb.”

“It’s not…he overheard me telling Vic. It only happened today.” He scoffs. “I didn’t want to say anything unless it was a done deal.”

“Well good luck. I’m sure you’ll be happy. I’d say send me a postcard but…” He really hopes he’s hiding how hurt he is.

“What are you on about? We’re moving here. To Mill Cottage. I was going to surprise you.”

“Why?”

“Well…I thought, one day, that maybe we’d all live there.” It’s surreal but he’s sure Robert just asked him to move in and yet at the same time they’re still mid argument about being in the closet as a couple.

“And I’d be using the back door would I so no one saw me come and go.”

“Now you’re just being bloody ridiculous!”

“No, I don’t think I am. You won’t tell anyone about me, about us, so what else am I to think? I’ve been patient but I’m sick of hiding, and you know what, I think you are too. So unless you’re going to change that I don’t have anything to say.”

“So you’re blackmailing me into coming out?”

“No. Of course not. Robert you and I are never going to have a chance at a proper relationship if we have to pretend to be mates. You’re talking about moving in, is that as flatmates, or am I the nanny? It’s not going to be as boyfriends is it?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. I’m going to bed. Night Robert.” He feels awful as he shuts the door in his face but he doesn’t have any energy left

He knew he was falling in love with Robert, had been for a long time and he adored Seb, but he wouldn't hide, not again. He wouldn't force Robert to go public but he couldn't stay hidden so they were at a stalemate. The house thing had thrown him though, clearly Robert wanted them to stay together, but how could they. He just didn’t understand what he was thinking.

He doesn't sleep a wink, everything whirling around his brain all night. If Robert had given a reason for it all then maybe he could understand but he just clammed up.

He doesn't hear a thing from Robert for days and he takes it to mean he's made his choice. His Mum keeps asking him why he's in such a mood all of a sudden and he can't answer her without a whole heap of explanations that he can't get into.

Even work isn't making him happy, his usual banter with patients is missing and he feels like he's sleepwalking his way through his days. He should do as Robert said, quit and try and fulfil his dream of being a play specialist or something along those lines, but he couldn’t quite convince himself to take the risk.

"Aaron!" The chair he's pushing comes to an abrupt stop as a familiar voice rings out across the orthopaedic department. He swings round to see Seb sitting on one of the chairs all alone.

"Hey monkey. where's your Dad?"

"He's talking to the doctor.” He answers legs swinging back and forth.

"Want me to sit with you?" Seb nods. "So, how's school?"

"Boring. Aaron, do you know why my Daddy's so sad?"

"No mate. Why do you think he's sad?"

"He's not smiley anymore. And you haven't come round for tea and he always smiles when you're there. I want him to be happy again, I don't want him to be sad." it all comes out in one big breath and it takes him a minute to work out what he's saying.

"Well everyone gets sad sometimes."

"But he wasn't before. Why don't you come round anymore? Don't you like us now?"

"Oh monkey, of course I do."He's beginning to realise that Seb is far more observant than either he or Robert gives him credit for.

“Will you help us, like you did before? Daddy says he doesn’t know where he would be without you so you must’ve helped. You can do it again, can’t you?” He can’t resist the pleading eyes and he hates how his and Robert’s problems have clearly started to affect Seb.

"Tell you what, I'll wait here with you and when Daddy comes out me and him will have a chat, eh?" Seb nods.

It's no more than five minutes when one of the doors opens and Robert comes out. His steps falter when he sees Aaron but he plasters a smile on his face and comes over to them.

"Hey." Aaron nods. "You ready to go Seb?"

"You said I could have a cookie. I want Aaron to come."

"Aaron's working mate. Come on, we'll make some cookies at home. Nana’s recipe, the ones you like."

"No! "The little boy sits back and crosses his arms and at any other time he'd laugh but right now he just feels awkward.

"I've got time for a coffee if..." Robert sighs, looking defeated. "It's up to you."

"Fine. Then you and me are going home, I mean it.”

Seb runs off to the little play area the hospital coffee shop has set up once he's all but inhaled his cookie and juice, leaving the two of them in silence.

“So..."

“How was his appointment?”

“All clear, it was just a final check up to make sure there’s no lasting problems with his leg and stuff.”

"He's noticed you know, that I don't come over anymore."

"Don't."

"I'm just saying. He told me you were sad. It's affecting him Robert. Probably far more than knowing the two of us are together would."

"This isn't the time or the place.”

"It never is though is it? Why am I bothering? Tell Seb I said goodbye.” He pushes himself up from the table, telling himself he tried, feeling bad for letting Seb down.

It's later that when there's a knock at the back door of the pub as he’s heading to bed and he just shakes his head when he sees Robert.

"I can't keep having the same fight over and over Robert."

"I just want to...explain I guess."

"Fine. Mum's upstairs though so... come through the front." He leads him into the darkened pub. "So what's changed since this morning?"

"Seb. Having a six year old pretty much tell you you're being dumb gives a different perspective."

"I didn't tell him..."

"I know. I did. Asked him how he'd feel if you came over more, maybe stayed over."

“And?" He feels like his heart is beating out of his chest, that maybe this is the start of them getting back on track.

“Apparently Tommy has two Daddies, Daddy. He reckons its fun and they do all this cool stuff. You were right. he's more clued in than I gave him credit for. Told me I should let you make us happy again.” He slumps back in the seat. "I wasn't just... being stubborn, it’s more than that."

"You can tell me you know. I was never pushing you to come out or have a parade Robert. I just didn't want you to be a dirty little secret again."

"I don't understand.”

"When I came out, it was tough, for a lot of reasons." He'd never told Robert about his childhood, maybe one day he'd find the courage to tell him how he'd taken Gordon to court, but not now, "And I didn't want to be gay, told Paddy I'd rather have no life than live a gay one."

“Aaron."

"Sorry, I didn’t...I was just trying to say…I do get it, but,"' he sighs, "Once everyone knew it was like...a massive weight had lifted off my shoulders. Then I met Ed and he wasn't out. You know he was a rugby player, it wasn't so easy for him, so we kept it hidden, even in France. That wasn't what broke us up, but it didn't help, there was all this added pressure. I promised myself then, no more hiding. I told you I'd not push, but if we're going to be anything then it can't be secret. Not again." It was too hard. He wouldn't do it again

"You won't have to. I want you, us. I meant it when I said I bought the house for us. I moved for Seb, so he could have a proper house with a garden and that, but when I saw the house I saw us living there. I wouldn't have got through the last few months without you and when you walked out that night I thought that was it, I'd ruined it all again.”

"Again?"

"I'm not good at relationships Aaron. I was married, and that crashed and burned because I slept with her sister, among others which is how Seb came to be. I mess everything up, always have. I don't want to do that to us."

"So what now, because we can’t carry on like this, it’s hell for all of us.”

"I... need to tell Vic first. She deserves that, and...can you just give me a bit more time." Aaron nods. They'd made progress. actually managing a conversation rather than Robert just staying silent. It was a start.

"Yeah, course. I just needed to know that I wasn't just... a passing phase I suppose, that I meant something and I know you said it, but everything else said otherwise. Um, have there been...I mean am I the first..." Aaron asks him, not sure what he wants the answer to be or even why he asked it.

"No...I promise I'll explain but, you look like you're going to expire. You should get some sleep.” Robert tells him when he lets out a yawn.

"Yeah, another double shift."

“Quit. I mean it Aaron. You’re running yourself into the ground for peanuts when you could do so much more.”

"Yeah yeah. Can we fight about one thing at a time?" Robert laughs. "I...I love you Robert". He hadn't meant to say it but he couldn't stop himself.

"I love you too. "

They stay there a bit longer. reluctant to part but another yawn has Robert pushing him to his feet, a promise to call his only goodbye. He falls asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in ages.

It's another few days before he catches a glimpse of Robert in the village, in the graveyard of all places, one afternoon, and he doesn't look himself. Maybe he shouldn't interrupt but he started in that direction anyway. They'd called and texted a lot since the night in the pub but as far as he knew Robert hadn't spoken to Vic yet and he meant what he said, he’d give him time.

He can't walk by though, there's something about his expression that has him hurrying his pace. He catches the end of what he's saying as he nears him.

" ... almost lost the best thing to ever happen to me." Aaron glances at the headstone. Jack Sugden. Robert's hardly ever spoken about his Dad but Aaron knows he was well respected in the village, but he knew as well as anyone now appearances can be deceptive.

"Rob? Am I interrupting?" He doesn't think he'd noticed him even though he'd got quite close. He looks awful. "Rob?"

"No. Nothing left to say to him."

"You look like crap."

"Cheers. You look a million dollars too." He follows as Robert starts walking away.

"So... just saying hello? Your Dad." If anything he looks worse than he had at the grave. "Come on." He leads him to the pavilion, flopping down onto the steps. "Come on, you can talk to me."

"Spoke to Vic."

"And?" He didn't think she would react badly, it'd be pretty out of character.

"Told her I was bi. She was great."

"So? What's got you as this state?" He's relieved at Vic being supportive No one else really mattered.

"She wanted to know why I hadn't told her before. kept on and on, you know how she can get. So I did, told her that Dad..." He stopped, staring down at the floor and Aaron slips an arm round him, an inkling now at what it's all about.

"He knew?"

"Kind of. He caught me. There was this farm lad. we had extra help on summer. This one year.."

"One of them caught your eye." Robert nodded. "And you two..."

"Yeah. In my room. Dad was out, or so I thought. He caught us. Sacked him on the spot, leathered me..."

“Oh Robert..." He doesn't know what to say, just holds him tighter.

"He reckoned it was for skiving but me and Andy skived all the time. I wasn't stupid, I knew what it was for. I was the disappointment. Andy was the perfect son, a mini Dad, Vic was the baby, and I was just not who he wanted."

"I'm sorry. I've been pushing. I didn't realise.”

"Why would you? I've been with men before, but it's always been one night, and then I'd push it to the back of my mind, be the son he wanted." He finally looks up at Aaron. "I don't want to do that with you, I don't want to feel like we should be ashamed or a secret. I never have, I just had to get my head on straight."

"And now?"

"Now...Vic knows…and the world didn’t end. I don't know how she feels about Dad. I never wanted her to know, to see him as anything other than her amazing Dad."

"She's a big girl, She'll cope. You're her amazing brother and she knows how amazing you are now, that's more important." He gets to his feet. "Come on, no more thinking about him, he’s not worth it. What do you say we fetch Seb from school and have a movie night, forget about everything?"

“But..." Robert stops and looks at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I thought you'd want to go to the pub, tell everyone?"

"All I wanted was to know that you were serious...that I wasn't just a distraction from all that you had going on. Let's face it when we started out you didn't know which way was up and I helped I know so..." It's daft, Robert's never made him feel like that but his insecurities had started to get the better of him the last few weeks and it had spiralled into this big thing. “Stupid huh.”

"Never. I love you, for you, not because you helped me out." He gets up, kissing him softly. "Movie night sounds amazing by the way. Although once we tell Seb I doubt we'll hear much of the movie."

"I don't care."

"While we're talking about stuff...have you thought any more about your job?" Aaron sighs loudly as they walk down the hill. "You could do it Aaron, I know it."

"It could take years." He knew, he'd looked it up years ago. It meant years of study, of placements and he didn’t know if he could do it, he didn’t have the confidence in himself.

"Planning on going somewhere?"

"Haha. And what do I do for money if I'm not working?"

"That's not...look I know you'll hate this but I could help."

"You need your money for Seb.” He knew Robert’s job paid well but he wasn’t rich by any means and now he had Seb full time there was a whole load of expenses on top of anything else.

"His Mum left him a fair sum, for uni and that if thats what he wants.” He stops, looking right at him. "I mean it. I want to help and I know you want it. You could be good Aaron. look how you helped Seb?"

"Yeah well, I had ulterior motives there."

"Oh yeah?" He grins, looking happy for the first time that day.

“Mmm." He feels lighter now they’re joking around and Robert looks more back to his normal self.

"Just think about it. You can study at Leeds, there’s no need to go away anywhere.”

“Been checking have ya? Fine, if it'll shut you up, I’ll think about it. Come on let's go home'.'

"Home now is it?"

"I didn't... I just meant..."

"It could be if you wanted? I meant what I said in the pub.”

"Really? You want me to move in?" Aaron feels like he's on the waltzers, everything is moving at lightning speed all of a sudden.

"If you want. I know it's fast but...I feel like I've already wasted so much time, I don't want to wait any longer. So what do you say?"

"Seb's going to burst in excitement.”

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, why not? Better than a room at the pub I guess.” Their laughter carries on almost the whole way to the house and Aaron feels like he doesn't stop smiling all day.

He's never been so happy and maybe Robert is right. He's made a hell of a leap, maybe Aaron should too.

#robron week #rw2021

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bleachluna · 3 years

Text

Roleswap

A fic for day 1 of @hitsukarinweek! Also on AO3

Karin sat down next to Toshiro on the sofa, watching as he carefully brushed through their daughter's hair, skilfully and quickly parting the left half into separate sections for braiding. “I can't believe you can do this so much better than me.”

Toshiro didn't look up, currently focused on creating a french plait without pulling on Natsumi's head too much. “You've never really been one for delicate tasks.”

Karin huffed but watched attentively as her husband slowly braided down the back of Natsumi's head. “I guess but still, I'm the mom, I'm supposed to be the one doing this stuff.”

“No that's ok mom!”

Karin's mouth dropped theatrically in response and she leaned forward to poke Natsumi on the nose, “Cheeky.”

Toshiro made sure to tightly hold the half-done braid as Natsumi turned round to grin at her mother, before gently directing her head back to where it was, finishing the braid and tying it off. “Does it actually bother you?”

Karin shrugged. “I mean...a little? I don't know, when you picture having a daughter you think of this sort of stuff right? Dressing her up all cute,” she leaned over to briefly squish Natsumi's cheeks, “doing her hair, that sort of thing but it turns out I suck at it.”

Natsumi turned round quickly, immediately undoing the work Toshiro had done with creating sections in the right half of her hair. “You're good at dressing me up! The clothes you pick are cool! I wanna dress up like you when I grow up.”

Karin lightly slapped Toshiro's leg at his muttered “I hope not” and smiled at her daughter. “Thank you. At least I've got half of it down!”

Natsumi earnestly nodded back at her and turned round so Toshiro could finish her hair.

He carefully recreated the sections in the right half and started pulling it into a second plait. “Practice on your own hair?”

“Honestly I think that would be even worse, at least I can actually see what I'm doing on Natsumi. Unless I set up an elaborate mirror situation. I have no idea how some girls do that honestly, all these complicated hairstyles on themselves.”

A small laugh escaped out of Toshiro. “Maybe they do have an elaborate mirror situation. Well evidently I can always do your hair for you if you want.”

“Oh I know you can, given you cheated being able to do Natsumi's by practising for ages on me, but letting you do it all up for me feels like I'm giving in. I really should be able to do it myself.”

“We can't be good at everything mom. Definitely not right away!”

Karin immediately deflated at the words her daughter had parroted from her, having repeatedly used them whenever Natsumi got frustrated at not being able to do something. Her pride versus being a good example wasn't much of a toss up. “You're right. “ She sighed, “maybe I'm just not meant to be very good at hair. At least I'm good at other stuff huh?”

Natsumi nodded, unintentionally making Toshiro have to redo the part he was on. “Yeah! You're good at clothes, you can do make up super quick! Um...you always make sure I do my school work, even when I don't wanna.”

Karin snorted in response. “You're happy about that?”

Natsumi sighed, coming out more for show than a genuine sigh, copying the actions of adults around her without really understanding yet. “Kinda. I hate it, but it makes me smarter so yeah.”

Both parents let out a laugh at that, Karin gently correcting her. “It makes you more knowledgeable, you're already smart.”

Natsumi's face scrunched up in confusion. “What's the difference?”

“Smart is more...generally speaking people are born with being smart, then as they live life they get more knowledge, and the innate smartness and the knowledge sort of work together. You know how I say your little brother is always experimenting?”

“Uh huh, you said that the other day when he was putting the little bouncy balls though the stair gate upstairs.”

“Yeah, did you remember how closely he was watching the balls when he put them through? My guess is that he was trying to figure out why they fell down, or why they bounced maybe.”

Second french plait now done and tied, Natsumi turned round, facing them. “Falling is gravity! I don't know how they bounce though.”

Toshiro smiled at her enthusiasm. “I think it's the material they're made out of, different types bounce in different amounts. The makers were deliberately looking for a material that bounced well.”

“Oh.”

Karin nodded. “My point is, you can tell he's smart because he's already trying to figure it all out. It's smart to try something out to see what'll happen, that's pretty much what science is, they just make sure to do it carefully. He's a little young for the concept of gravity right now, but pushing the balls through the stair gate taught him the knowledge that things fall down the stairs.

Natsumi gasped loudly. “And he's scared round the stairs now! He learned!”

Karin laughed. “Yeah, he doesn't like going near them without me or your dad now. He used his smartness to experiment, he gained the knowledge that the balls fall down the stairs, and using the two together he probably figured out he could fall down the stairs too.”

“Wow...He can't even talk yet.”

“He babbles,” Toshiro defended, “he understands a lot that's said to him, he'll get there soon.”

“Smartness and knowledge work together so you can figure out the world. Smart is good, but you need the knowledge to back it up and help boost it.”

“Did I experiment when I was a baby?”

Toshiro raised an eyebrow at her. “Last week you poured half a bottle of bubble bath into the bath to see if you could get, and I quote, thousands and thousands of bubbles. You still experiment.”

“But...experimenting isn't bad right?”

He winced at the complicated question. “It is important to try things out, but you still need to get our permission first. Trying out how many bubbles half a bottle gets you isn't really bad as such, but inconvenient when you try it out in the evening when we're trying to get your brother washed and in bed.”

Karin rolled her eyes at how Toshiro put it. “Inconvenient is certainly one word for it. Besides kid, a lot of people have already done these experiments, we might already know the answer without you trying it out.”

Natsumi pouted. “That's no fun.”

Karin put on a stern expression. “Some of them can also be dangerous if you're not careful. Wanting to learn stuff is good, but you need to run them by us first.”

“Okaaaay.”

Karin nodded to her in acknowledgement and then laughed to herself. “You know between you doing her hair all the time and me being the stricter parent maybe we should swap names.”

Toshiro looked at her, confused. “Hm?”

She grinned at him. “You be mom and I'll be dad.”

Natsumi giggled and shook her head. “That's silly!”

Karin smiled down at her. “Ah you've gotta be silly sometimes. But anyway! Now that your hair's all done, you ready to go get changed for dinner?”

Natsumi cocked her head to the side. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you gonna let dad do your hair?”

Karin laughed a little awkwardly. “I was just gonna redo the ponytail.”

Natsumi stood up, leaning against Karin's legs and holding her hands as she looked at her. “But if you let dad do it we can match!”

Lost for words, Karin looked over to Toshiro who shrugged in response, she sighed as she shrugged too. “Oh alright then.” She scooted off the sofa to sit in front of Toshiro, Natsumi taking her seat. “Maybe just the one plait instead of two though?”

“Nooooo do two! So we match properly!”

Toshiro smiled in response, leaning down to tease Karin. “The lady has spoken.”

Karin's mouth dropped open as she turned round to look at the two of them. “Do I not count as the lady of the house?”

Toshiro gently pulled out her hair tie as he spoke. “I thought you were dad and I was mom?”

She rotated her head back round so he could work on her hair properly. “Hm, I really tripped myself over there huh.”

“Yep, two plaits it is.” He brushed out her hair and parted it in half. “I'm sure you'll look lovely.”

Karin let herself relax as Toshiro started braiding the left side of her head. “Natsumi go get changed while your dad does my hair ok?”

Natsumi sprung up from the sofa and sped towards the stairs, running up them quickly, making Karin sigh. “I would tell her off for running but maybe it's better she uses her energy up now.”

“And you think running up one flight of stairs will do that? She's excited, she's got even more energy than usual.”

Karin rolled her eyes with a smile. “I don't know why she's so excited, she sees everyone all the time.”

Toshiro talked a little slower as he focused on braiding, “yeah, but it's not often that it's the whole family all at once. It's gonna be a nightmare getting her to bed tonight.”

“Part of me's hoping she'll tire herself out but that's probably naïve.”

“Probably. We'll have to tag team it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#hitsukarin #hitsukarinweek #hitsukarinweek2021 #toshiro hitsugaya #karin kurosaki #bleach #my writing #this fic sorta had a life of its own #so it didn't quite turn out how i wanted but hey #also formatting's a little sketchy on the dash itself #looks better on the actual blog or ao3 in case you have trouble

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singeramg · 4 years

Text

Ruin Me

Quick little reader insert imagine based off this post. Based off a non-ask...

*Update: Now a full length story! Check out Masterlist for my chapters?*

Pairing: CEO! Henry Cavill x Female! Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Power imbalance, dom! Henry, sub! reader, fingering, dirty talk...

Song choice: Funny How Time Flies- Meshell Ndegeocello

PART 2 HERE

“ Y/N can you bring me a cup of coffee...please.”

His voice wasn’t raised but his tone told you all you needed to know.

He was not happy. Not happy at all.

He had called you from the phone in his office, not even bothering to call through the door or better yet come to the door himself which he usually did when he needed something from you and was in a good mood. You don’t dwell on it much and you get to your feet, and hustle over to break room to make a fresh pot of coffee.

It doesn’t take long; you wait the ten minutes to brew, taking note that your coworkers are packing up for the night. You look at the clock and realize you better do the same.

Although you have nowhere special to be the last thing you wanted to do on a Friday night was spend more time at the office. You didn’t complain much, the job wasn’t had for you. You hadn’t been with the company long but you were sure you liked it thus far.

You were Executive Assistant to the CEO of Cavill Industries. a company he started with his brothers years ago and had grown to be a world wide force. Henry Cavill may not have been the eldest brother but he certainly was the most determined and invested of the 5 and more so than any man you had met. This was why they made him the CEO.

You also thought that had something to do with the fact that he honestly was the best looking brother out of all of them.

The face of the company.

He had to stand out in a crowd, oh and Henry Cavill certainly did.

You could admit to no one but yourself that you had found him extremely attractive during your third and final interview where you finally got to meet him. If he wasn’t your boss, he would be exactly the type of guy you went for in terms of looks. Tall, dark curly hair, a jawline that could cut glass, dazzling smile and sharp blue eyes that seemed to pinpoint everything

Including any mistakes you made.

He had made adjusting to this new job hard for you.

Pointing out every mistake, forcing you to redo whole reports that people who got paid a lot more than you should have been doing

But nooooo

He ‘trusted ‘ a.k.a could hover over you while you fixed it.’ causing more late nights and overtime than you cared to think about.

Forget a social life, everything had to be about him.

You had to be everything.

In your job interview nobody had mentioned you would be basically in charge of his life.

Dry Cleaning, arranging his groceries to be delivered, you were even his dog walker on the days he brought his cute Akita Kal-El to the office.

Yea that was totally fun in the heels he forced you into everyday.

You had tried wearing respectable flats after your first week with sore feet and he vetoed that almost immediately.

Saying it wasn’t “seemly“ and that you were the assistant to the CEO and you should dress like it. Needless to say half of the time you wanted to slap him. The other time you were ridiculously turned on. I mean despite being an ass sometimes he played right into your masochistic streak. The way he spoke to you, wasn’t nasty but it had a very direct way that left no room for arguing or confusion. Just like with the heels. You normally would have argued your point, maybe even seen if he would come to some sort of compromise but you didn’t with him. You just kept the flats in your car and a pair under your desk for when you were sitting at your desk and for the days he was out of office.

That sort of sneaky was not like you at all. You just preferred to pull off the band-aid so to speak, but Mr. Cavill was not for any of that.

All you said to him when the response he wanted was obvious was a yes sir or no sir.

You made his coffee just as he liked two cubes of sugar, and a splash of cream. He always would like three extra cubes of sugar on the side, adding the extras depending on how his day had been going. The more sugar added the better his day. You walk as smooth as you can to his office, the large dark door. You don’t bother to knock, sliding open the door to his office, begging your heels not to catch on the floor. You sit his coffee on the desk, to his right, and far enough from his hand that he doesn’t accidentally knock it over.

You smooth out your black mid length dress, and try not to fidget with your red belt that gives a retro theme to the look, and you even had a red purse and red blazer to wear with it (which you had ditched mid-morning). You slip back out the door when he doesn’t look at you. You pick up the tablet you use to keep track of everything on a mobile basis. You pull up his calendar and head back into the large office.

The office itself had never intimidated you despite the large solid oak desk in the middle of the room. It felt open because of the floor to ceiling windows that had automatic curtains that came down on command. You actually loved his office despite the fact that you didn't spend a lot of time in it. You re-enter his office, and stand in front of the desk looking down at the calendar.

“Okay before the day ends I would like to go over your schedule for the weekend.”

He finally looked up at you, his blue eyes giving direct contact, that you couldn’t hold and went back to the glowing tablet, where the sun was starting to set outside.

“You have a dinner meeting tonight which starts at 6:30pm; a 30 minute commute time which means you need to be out of here in the next 45 minutes, if you would like to arrive with your 15 minute grace period as normal.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, then takes off the reading glasses off his face and tosses them on the desk.

“Continue.”

“ Not too many things on the agenda for this weekend except for family brunch on Sunday. Your mother requests you arrive on time this time.”

You regulate a smirk to the side of your mouth.

“I’ve arranged for a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to your house by 9am for you to take over there to her.”

“I don’t suppose I have any missed messages from today?”

You look at him confused.

“Ummm....no. Were you expecting a call?”

He sighs and rubs the temples of his head, clearly upset something.

“No...yes...don’t worry about it. You’ve already arranged for a car for me?”

Yep, he was upset and he was not about to share it with you. You didn’t press him, only prayed it didn’t result in a hell of a clean-up for you later. You had been the bad guy with no less than 4 woman, all of them glaring and spiting nasty vitriol at you when you wouldn’t give them access to Henry. You had seen them all come and go.

“Yes.”

He looks you over, getting to his feet, walking over to the door you knew to be an en-suite bathroom and keeping his extra changes of clothes.

“ Do you have any plans for tonight?”

He asks you suddenly and puts you on the spot. You don’t even have a lie to cover up how pitiful your life was, but you had to try. He didn’t need to know you don’t have anything planned tonight but a glass of wine and catching up on your TV shows you missed for all the overtime you’ve been working.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

He asks almost immediately as if knowing you were lying. You had to try and get out of some crazy overtime he was known for. You didn’t want another late night in the office.

“Ummm...”

As noted earlier you didn’t think well on the spot. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate liars Y/N. Anyhow if you are done lying to me, the meeting for tonight requires a...feminine touch.”

“Feminine touch?”

You echo. He goes into the closet and you can hear him changing. You try not to think about him behind the wall.

“Yes. The people I am meeting with require a bit of finesse. The negotiations always go better when we bring our women to the meetings.”

“Soo... would you like me to call someone for you. I can have a dress sent over in their size to smooth the deal over.”

He laughs at you.

“No. Grab your things and call the car service to get here in 10 minutes.”

“ What stop the press? Are you putting me out of the office before you for once?”

You quip at him. He comes from around the corner his attire changed into a black button down shirt, left with the top few unbuttoned. He adjusts the sleeves and looks up with you.

“No you are going with me Y/N and we must hurry, you are going to require another dress.”

“But...”

“No buts. I need you and you are wasting time.”

He picks up a black suit jacket, his cologne hitting you with an umpf he walks by you to get to the car...

*********

The dinner had gone great from what you could tell. You saw a whole other side of Henry. One that was only observed under the rarest of occasions.

At least for you.

Overall you weren’t asked for much, Henry had bought you another black dress only this one was a bit more leggy than you were used to around such important people. Its spaghetti strapped and sweetheart neckline, offering way more cleavage than you would ever consider wearing around him, but Henry had literally come in with you, pulling it from the rack along with a few other choices and this was the tamest all the options he left you. You damn near had a panic attack in the dressing room. The women in the boutique had fixed your hair and makeup in the little amount of time you had, once again at Henry’s behest. You hadn’t be so pulled together since... well you couldn’t remember....

Henry had even been nice to you all evening, but you knew it was all an act, even if your body did respond to the compliments and lingering looks, the smile he would shoot you, he had even let his hands skim across your lower back.

You did your best not to read into anything. Had even gone along with the little game he was playing, being over sweet, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, your hands lingering on his arms. Enough to suggest without being outwardly desperate and trashy. You were ever the smiling damsel to his associates, laughing at the jokes, ignoring the sexist comments about your dress or the ‘arm candy’ they referred to you as, despite it pissing you off.

You stayed to yourself most for the ride back to the office, and he stays quiet as well. Only then once the car parks do you realize in your haste earlier you left your keys upstairs. He insists he needs to come up as well to grab some files from his desk. You offer to bring them back down but he insists. You scurry to your desk, not finding them in the drawer where you usually kept your purse.

You don’t see them. You panic and look for them intensely.

Oh you hoped you didn’t leave them at the boutique where you changed dresses.

“Y/N. Could you come in here please? I would like to discuss something with you before you leave.”

He calls to you, the voice losing the soft tone he had with you all night, this only serves to make your blood run cold. Have you done something wrong? Said the wrong thing to the wrong person and cost him millions of dollars? You needed your job, and hoped pretty badly that this wasn’t the end of it.

You honestly couldn’t tell if you missed it or not. You disregard the thoughts you are having and push them back in your mind, offering to sort them out later. Preferably with alcohol nearby. You look into his office and see that he is standing behind his desk. Once you come in, thinking he needed something from you.

“Close the door.”

You close the door behind you, the lights on a dim shade, enough for you to see but not enough to over power your eyes.

“Did you need anything from me, because it’s late and I should be heading home...”

He surprises you by cutting you off in a tone that was even softer than any other time he had used with you before.

“I just wanted to say thank you for accompanying me tonight y/n.”

“You are Welcome. I’m just going to go...”

You smile and turn to leave but his voice stops you with a sharp tone that makes you freeze.

“Did I say you could leave?”

You feel your face get hot and you turn back around to face him. The lighting only showcasing the angles of his face, making you ever more nervous.

“No but Sir it's 12am...”

“I know what time it is. You are so stubborn all the time. Can’t even take a simple compliment.”

“I thought you were done.”

You shrug, and immediately regret being so nonchalant with him., his gaze intense.

“I wasn’t. Now before you interrupted me, I was saying thank you not only because you came with me but for playing your role so effortlessly. I didn’t expect you to be so ...reciprocating to me.”

“I figured that would be best. How would it appear if you showed up with a staff member we rather than a significant other like the other at the table.”

“Well your quick and astute observation saved me tonight.”

“All in a day's work. Now if I can just get out of these heels tonight and maybe into a pedicure tomorrow I will have made this all worth while.”

He surprises you by coming from behind the desk where he had been standing, coming to stand in front of you.

And you cursed yourself because it was back again.

The arousal you fought with every lingering look and touch he gave you tonight. How honeyed his words were with you, combined with the animalistic power you knew was just boiling under the surface.

“I have had many secretaries before and none of them take your position as seriously as you do. You put a lot of effort into your job and does not go unnoticed.”

Having him so close was unnerving. Especially when you had his direct attention. You can’t hold eye contact and look down at the floor. Henry touches your chin, his fingers tilt your chin up and you lock eyes. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the space of brown in his left eye, but the first time you were close enough to appreciate it.

You feel your pulse quickening.

“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look tonight.”

He blinks slowly and you don’t breathe at all as his lips move toward your own. He is seconds away from kissing you, tension heavy in the room.

“Wait....Henry...I just...I Can’t go there.”

You say it out loud and it’s like someone let the air out of your balloon. He lets your face go and looks at you confused, for the first time you see just Henry. Not your boss, not the CEO who always had to be ‘on’ and in charge, you just saw Henry. His face was open and unguarded.

“It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s just you are my boss...”

Henry moves suddenly, and yet simultaneously time slows as he crashes his lips onto yours. The odd duality of soft, yet firm, calming yet passionate overtakes your mind and short circuits you. His hands are holding the side of your face on one side and behind your neck. His kiss steals what little breath you had away. You almost forget why this would have been such a bad idea but he pulls away.

“Darling, Didn’t anyone tell you? The boss makes the rules...”

He resumes kissing you and you offer little in the way of resistance as he picks you up, in fact you lock your legs around his waist and he deposits you on top of his desk. Everything you had been feeling for him was bubbling up in that moment. You were caught in being wanted to be treated like silk and wanting to toss him down and take exactly what you wanted in no uncertain terms of hatefucking him for all the jackass behavior he had exhibited since you started 6 months ago.

You slide his jacket off his broad shoulders, tossing it to the room, igniting the soft thud it makes when the expensive thing lands in a heap on the floor. He pulls your hips toward the edge of the desk and his large hands are hot as they slide up your skirt over trembling thighs and his lips move to your neck. He finds the sensitive spots there quicker than anyone ever had while also moving his fingers to play with your clit through the lining of the black lace panties you were wearing.

Your breath hitches in your throat and Henry grins against your lips, letting you take a second before he kisses you again. His fingers dance around before latching to the hemline and yanking them with enough force that they are torn from your body. Your hips sting from the pull, but you are more than turned on. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and don’t look at the skin revealed, but he doesn’t let you take it off him and instead pushes one of his fingers inside of you, you lewdly moan, and grasp his biceps quickly, having been taken off guard. It wasn’t that you weren’t wet, because you were plenty wet, your now ruined panties had been testament to that, but you had expected more of a playful teasing, but as one of your last coherent thoughts, you knew this man never wasted time.

He was a do-er...

And right now he was doing you. The amount of focus and precision he took in his work, pouring over contracts, logs, inventory and the like, he was putting in on you. As his finger moves in and out he is staring at you with such intensity you think you might explode.

“You are dripping baby girl. Melting right into the palm of my hand to be exact.”

He removes the finger that had been inside of you, raising it to his lips, tasting you from it, and you shudder. He kisses you again, you closing your eyes, then you hear in his deep tone like melted chocolate, luxurious to your ears,

“Open your eyes and suck them.”

He held two of his fingers and you opened your mouth. He wanted to hold your gaze.

“Get them nice and wet for me.”

You suck on them, imaging the girth that had been teasing you for months in his sacks, was what was actually in your mouth. You had wanted so badly to taste him and feel him you reach down, palming his obvious erection and you hear him growl. It was your turn to smirk, and as soon as he felt that smirk, he pulled his two fingers from your mouth and thrusts them into you.

You whimper and the one hand you left on his bicep clenched in, digging into his skin. His fingers glide in and out almost painfully slow. You need faster.You try to move your hips to make him move but he chuckles.

“That won’t work y/n. We do this at my pace. Be still or I will stop.”

He didn’t go any faster, his movements deliberately slow. You could tell he was getting a kick out this, and you whine again.

“Beg kitten.”

He whispers in your ear, his thumb teasing your clit again.

“Please.”

He moves a little faster.

“Come on love. You can do better than that.” Teasing.

“Please Henry...”

He slaps your thigh with a sharp tap and it sends the zing of arousal.

“That's not what you call me. Try again.”

While your brain is shorting out, you fumble on what he wants from you.

“I..i don’t know sir...”

He rewards you by speeding up more. Your torso drops backwards, your head follows as you rest back on your elbows, and legs move wider, making your dress bunch up around your hips.

“There you go. There’s what I was looking for. Now beg me to make you come.”

You worry your bottom lip, ignoring how your chest heaves, pulling against the black fabric of the dress.

“Fuck! Please sir please let me cum.”

“That’s more like it. Begging me like the dirty little slut you are.”

He speeds up, his fingers curling inside, tapping that spongy space that made your eyes cross and your vision blur. You didn’t think you would like being called a ‘little slut’ but it was more of a turn on than you had ever thought it would be.

“Sir let me cum please let me cum.”

His dexterous fingers speed up, his thumb rubbing your clit and you were glad no one else was in the office as your moans echo throughout the room.

“You want to be my good girl hmmm?”

You nod furiously, the edge of your orgasm coming up rapidly, as your walls begin their tell-tell sign of fluttering.

“Good girls wait until they have permission. You hold it.”

It was damn near impossible, but you try to focus on anything but how good his fingers feel. He pulls your body back up from the desk with his hand gripping behind your neck. His lips crash on your again, he lingers around your lips you breathe heavily against his lips.

“I’ll be your good girl!”

You yell.

“Good. Cum then come for me.”

It’s like the world goes silent and all you can focus on is his fingers as your orgasm pulls you under. It’s an out of body experience where you could hear your moans and groans of Henry’s name, where you were literally shaking, but you could bring yourself down. Destroyed, Henry is whispering praises in your ear. Calling you his and how good you were for him. It doesn’t take long to come back down, but when you do you feel wrung out, and as Henry pulls away, you notice the sheen of fine layered sweat on his forehead. You feel self conscious as he stares down at you, and without the haze of lust in your eyes it settles in you that your boss just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life and hadn’t even taken off his pants.

Pants that were currently begging you to be taken off. He begins to chuckle and you realize you’ve been staring at his cock outline, and he was laughing at you. He unbuttons his pants, and finally takes off his shirt the rest of the way, finally revealing the god sculpted body that he clearly worked for.

The look on his face says he is going to ruin you and you are going to like it.

Only then, as he begins to work on the zipper to your dress, do you look to your left on the desk and see your keys sitting there...

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

A/n: Hope that was what you were looking for @thiccgeralt Hope this met your expectations and thank you!

I am thinking of coming back to this, but honestly I am waiting until @laketaj24 finishes her CEO! fic The Rules, because its so freaking wonderful and I don’t want to ruin anything by stealing any thunder with a CEO fic OR Ficlet I would plan on doing. BTW if you haven’t read The Rules then please do yourself a favor a go over to her page and check out all of her work. You will not regret a second of it....

However I am tossing this out to see if there would be any interest in a continuation of this fic. Let me know and as always thank you for reading, re-blogging, and liking!

Henry Cavill Taglist: (OPEN! Let me know if this is something you want on!

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader

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janicho88 · 3 years

Text

Fire, Fur & Mistletoe Chapter 4

Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female Reader.

Word Count-3,045

Warning- Mentions of car accidents. Possible swearing. Slight angst. Fluff.

Summary- A rewrite of the Nine Lives of Christmas, Hallmark movie. AU, Dean is a firefighter who doesn’t do commitment, the Holiday’s don’t mean much to him. Coming home after a shift he finds a dog in trouble. The reader is a veterinary student who works in a coffee shop trying to make it to graduation, until someone causes problems there for her. She isn’t interested in finding anyone other than her own dog until after she finishes school. Do their four legged friends have other plans?

A/N- This series is written for @spnchristmasbingo. The square filled for this chapter is presents. The first two chapters will stay closer to the movie than the rest will. This has its own tag list and it is open. That way I am not tagging anyone who doesn’t want to be tagged in Christmas stories. This story is unbeta’d.

Header by the amazing @winchest09

Divider from freepngimg.com

Series Masterlist The next morning you were in the kitchen looking through ads when Dean came down. “I was wondering what do you think about doing our Christmas shopping together? I thought it would be fun to tackle the stores together?”

“I usually just do Visa gift cards, or regular gift cards.”

“Do you remember how you were saying you can’t recall the last time you really enjoyed Christmas?”

“Yeah, you really think going to the mall is going to help me feel..” He paused looking at you with a smirk, “Christmassy?”

“I think going and seeing all the festive decorations could help. One afternoon, we can make it fun, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“So you’ll go?”

“Yeah, we can give it a shot.”

“I’m going to help you do it right this year. We can go to the mall after your shift tomorrow.”

“I can hardly wait,” he grumbles as you leave the kitchen.

Dean’s shift started earlier today, he headed in just before noon. They started off busy before things slowed down. They were called out for two car accidents, the light snow falling today causing some problems. Dispatch also had them at two nursing homes. The first resident was fine and back on their feet before they and the paramedics left. The second was a fall and the poor guy wasn’t happy about having to go to the hospital to be checked out further.

When things calmed down later Dean was sitting in the common room with Sam and Benny. Those two watching the game, Dean going through paint samples.

“What are you trying to figure out now?” Sam wanted to know.

“Which color is going to look best in the dining room. I picked up some new color swatches on the way in. I have a light green, pale blue, a really light grey, or a cream.”

“Which one does the design genius living with you like?” Benny questioned.

“She thought maybe a light green would go with the trim in there.”

“I’d go with what she likes so you don’t have to redo it in a year or so.”

“What’s being redone in a year?” Bobby asked walking in.

“I hope to have sold it by then.”

“Dean’s trying to pick a paint color, we told him to go with what Y/N picked so he wouldn’t have to redo it later when everything is all done and she doesn’t like it.”

“Yep, need to keep the women happy.” Bobby agrees.

“How’s the girlfriend doing while we are on that subject?” His brother wanted to know.

“You’ve all lost me. Still don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure about that Chief? You do spend a lot of time with her. You trust her opinion to remodel your house.”

“What was your excuse earlier about not going out with us tomorrow? Oh right you have plans with Y/N, like a date.”

“What was going on the other day when you couldn’t come over and watch the game with me and your brother? Pretty sure you were with her again.”

“How many dates are you going to have before you realize you are dating?”

“Are you two morons done? We aren’t dating. I trust her opinion, because she’s good at this. Still selling the house when I’m done. She just wanted to get a tree for the house, so we picked one up and decorated it that night.”

“It really took you a couple hours to pick up a tree, did you carry it home.”

“No, we went to a tree farm, not a tree lot.”

“Hold up. You actually went and cut down a tree for her? You wouldn’t do that for me. We always went to the tree lot and just grabbed one. You are more gone on this girl than you think.”

“You are reading too much into a simple tree, Sam.”

“What are you busy doing when the shifts over?” Benny wanted to know.

“Apparently Christmas shopping. She thinks it will be fun to do it together.”

“You, Dean Winchester are going Christmas shopping?”

“Why are you saying it like that?”

“I wasn’t sure you knew what a mall was, I’ve been getting a gift certificate from you for years now.”

“And I’ve had enough of this conversation, I’m going to go clean the truck or something.”

Dean walked out to the sound of the guy's laughter.

When his shift ended the next day Dean headed home to shower and change so he would be ready to head to the mall with you. You were in the living room sitting with the dogs when he came down.

“I’m ready if you are.”

“I’m good to go. I’ll see you babies later.” Giving the dogs each a little hug you got up to follow Dean to the truck.

As you are entering the mall Dean turns to you. “I realized I haven’t told you lately, thanks for your help with the house. I might just be able to sell it sooner than I thought. I really appreciate all you have been doing.”

That caught you off guard. “Oh yeah, no problem.” You had gotten wrapped up in staying with him you kind of forgot it was temporary, and that wasn’t really his home.

“That’s really great. You didn’t just fix a house this time, you created a beautiful home. Some family is going to be incredibly lucky.”

Dean nods, sneaking a glance at you, “Yeah they are.”

“Alright, who’s on your list?” You were eager to change the subject.

“My brother and his girlfriend, Jess. Bobby, he’s the Fire Chief. Cas and Benny, you met all them at the station when you found Miracle.”

“Okay. Any ideas on what to get?”

“Gift cards.”

“No.”

“Then I don't know.”

“You’re helpful. What is your brother’s girlfriend like, what kind of things does she like?”

“Um, she’s a nurse. She likes my brother. I think she likes the beach.” This might be harder than you thought.

“What about any of the guys?”

“Sam likes Jess, and healthy crap like green shakes. He’s always bringing some into work. Benny wants a girlfriend. Cas, who knows. He’s a little different some days. He does like to sit and think, and bees. He’s a tad obsessed with them. Chief likes, um his job, family, Miracle.”

“Okay, so where do you want to start?”

“That store sells gift cards to multiple places.” He points to a big store behind you.

“The next time you’re at work I’m going to paint the living room hot pink if you mention gift cards again in the next hour.”

Dean starts to open his mouth but isn’t too sure how serious you are, so he shuts it again and rethinks what he wants to say. “What do you need to get?” He asks instead.

“A gift for my sister and brother-in-law, then a few friends. I have a thought for your brother if you want to hear it?”

“Sure, what are you thinking?

“The bookstore might have a recipe book for different health drinks, maybe we can find a little smoothie maker so he could make them fresh at the station instead of bringing and storing them.”

Dean thinks about if for a minute, “He would actually probably like that, although I hate to enable his bad habit.”

Laughing at his jab at his brother you head toward your destination.

The book store is your first stop, while there you browse through the shelves to see if anything else catches your eye. Finding a book, The Buzz about Bees, you show it to Dean who puts it in the cart for Cas. As you were heading to the check out, Dean started laughing at a book which caught his eye.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have to get this for Bobby, it’s Tori Spelling's autobiography.”

“Um, okay. That’s a random gift.”

“Bobby is a closet fan. Big fan actually. Not very many people know.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Maybe you should have let him get his boss a gift card.

At the sporting goods store he found some fishing gear for Benny who likes to spend time on his sometimes girlfriend boat. Dean figured they were due to get back together soon.

While there you found part of your sister's gift. You got her an extra magazine for her off duty gun, and a new cleaning kit. The woman loved her weapons.

Heading to the next store you came across some Santa hats and antlers you made Dean try on with you and take some selfies. He grumbled about it at first but he did seem to have fun with it, making silly faces in the photos.

With your hands full you took what you had out to the truck so you didn’t have to carry it to the rest of the stores. The fishing gear was a little big to lug around.

Coming back inside Dean suggested a quick stop at the food court for a snack before hitting more stores.

You grabbed your drinks of choice and a couple of cookies and sat down for a few minutes. Dean was complaining because none of them sold pie. The mall was starting to get busier and people were hustling everywhere.

“Do you enjoy shopping and all this craziness?” Dean asked, drawing your attention away from people watching.

“Generally no. I’m a get in get out person. My sister and I used to try and go together, but she’s busier with work and she has Doug to go with. I’m used to doing most things on my own now. It’s better if you have someone with you, which is why I thought we could have fun with it.”

“I will admit, this hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be. You did make it fun. Thank you for that.”

“No problem,” you give him a small smile and go back to drinking your coffee.

The next stop was the pet store for some treats for your favorite four legged friends. You passed stockings on the way in and went to pick one up.

“Dakota needs a new stocking, does Miracle have one yet?”

“No, he doesn’t have a stocking. I don’t think I even have one.”

“Well, we need to remedy that for the both of you.”

“Of course we do.”

There weren’t many stockings left. They were on one side of a middle aisle display, the back side had various balls and kongs. The few stockings that were there were on the back of a shelf behind some toys. You had to move the toys out of your way to pick through the stockings. With one arm full of squeaking toys you used one hand to look at the stockings.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Uh huh.”

You found two white and red stockings you liked so you were pulling them out, when your elbow hit a toy still on the shelf, trying to use your arm to keep it up on the shelf you missed the toy and hit the display instead. Apparently you used more force than you meant because the display you were looking at tipped backward and hit the one behind it. This sent various balls and kongs bouncing to the ground.

Dean was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed watching, “Now do you need help?”

“It appears so.”

Other people in the store did their best to avoid your mess while the two of you cleaned it up. Getting the last toy back on the shelf you pick up the stockings and turn to Dean. “What do you think about these?”

“I think we aren’t going to go through that again just so you can pick out a different one. So let’s go with those and head out before you knock over the display of canned food.”

“You don’t want to clean that up too?”

“Let’s save that one for the next time we’re here.”

Sam’s girlfriend was a little harder than you thought since you didn’t know her and Dean wasn’t much help. You ran with his comment about her liking the beach and picked up some scented lotions and bath bombs along with hand cream. Being a nurse her hands would be constantly washed and most likely very dry.

In a men’s store you found a new tie for your brother in law to go with the briefcase organizer you found for him.

You found a mug that Charlie would get a kick out of. You also came across a Hermione Granger bobblehead she would like.

You had picked up a couple small things for your old coworkers, Claire and Kevin. You did miss working with those two.

There was one more person on your list, but it was hard with him right next to you.

Dean’s shopping was done, he had picked up some little things to complete Bobby and Cas’ gifts.

Browsing the picture frames as you walked by you saw one you had to get.

You had the perfect picture to put inside. Dean had texted you a picture from the station one day of him and Miracle. Miracle was wearing Dean’s firehat, both were in front of the fire truck.

You passed Santa in his village the mall had put up. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask Santa for anything this year?”

“I told you Sweetheart, he and I are extremely close. I’m good.”

“If you say so.”

“I think you need to go see Santa though.”

“What me?”

“Yep, you keep trying to send me so why don’t you go tell him your wish.” Dean stood there smirking at you, fully believing you wouldn’t do it.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you’re going to go up there?”

“Yep.” You went and got in line behind a group of young children, who all turned to stare at you. Oh this wasn’t awkward at all. Dean had walked off while you stood in line waiting your turn. A part of you thought about walking away and telling Dean you had gone through the line already when he returned.

“Got you something.” Too late, he’s back. He was handing you a bag and trying to hold back a smile.

Warily you took the bag and opened it up, chuckling when you saw what was inside. “I’m going to guess I’m supposed to wear this up there?”

“You know it.”

Dean stood next to you in line as you waited, when you were the next one up, you took the elf hat he gave you out of the bag and put it on your head. “How do I look?”

“Like Santa’s perfect helper.”

Heading up you were fairly certain Santa was looking for a child with you, and finally realized there wasn’t one. “Ho ho ho, what can Santa bring you for Christmas, miss?”

While in line you had been thinking about what to say when you go up here. “I have a friend over there who has had a rough time of it over the years. He’s lost his Christmas spirit and the belief in happy endings. I wish he could find that again.”

“Well, that’s some Christmas wish.” He looks over at Dean who’s smiling at the two of you. “It looks like someone is already working on bringing that Christmas spirit back to him. Santa will see what he can do to help. Is there anything for you?”

“Not unless your workshop is looking for another elf.”

Giving you a candy cane he wishes you a Merry Christmas and sends you off.

“So what did you ask Santa for?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“I think you are confusing Santa with birthday wishes.”

“Either way, I’m not telling you. You can ask Santa since you are so close though.”

Dean just shakes his head at you.

Behind Santa was a Christmas shop and you dragged Dean inside with you to find him a stocking. Holding up a Grinch stocking he shook his head, next you tried Superman.

“I’m sorry you have me mistaken for someone else, I’m Batman.”

You looked around. “You aren’t the only one. Sorry, Batman is all sold out. There is Batgirl though.”

“I’ll keep looking.”

“Pink snowflakes?”

“I’m really starting to doubt your decorating tastes now.”

You laughed at that and went through a few more stockings.

“What kind of crazy is on your stocking?”

“It’s the same one I had growing up, classic red and white with my name in glitter. It looks like that one over there.”

Dean walked over where you had pointed and looked at those. “That’s what I want too, I don’t need flashy or cartoons.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Finishing your shopping you were on your way back to the truck to head home. After unloading the packages in the living room Dean headed for the kitchen.

“Are you good with ordering pizza for dinner?”

“I can make something up really quick.”

“I know you could, but I thought we had to wrap all that stuff we got today. I figured we didn’t need another mess.”

“If you want that’s fine with me.”

You made sure to take what you had for Dean up to your apartment before you came back to start wrapping anything else. When the pizza was ordered Dean did his best to help you out. You were surprised by how well he did.

“You buy gift cards for people, I wouldn’t think you had practice with wrapping.”

“We have to wrap all the donated toys for the kids every Christmas, so I get my fair share of practice with that. Bobby wouldn’t let us hand out sloppily wrapped gifts to the kids.”

The two of you took a break from wrapping when the pizza arrived then went back to finishing it up. When the presents are wrapped and under the tree Dean builds a fire and you go off to make some popcorn. When you come back the stockings are all hung over the fireplace.

The two of you get comfy on the couch with another Christmas movie playing while you enjoy the fire and the sight of the tree and gifts around you.

Thank you for reading!!

Chapter 5

Tags-@winchest09 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @jensengirl83 @abuavnee @lunarmoon8 @amyzombie1013 @akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @mandalou29 @igotmadskills @440mxs-wife @paryl @supernatural-love14 @krazykelly @anotherspnfanfic @bobbie3939 @deanwinchestersnightmoves @winchestergirl2 @thoughts-and-funnies

#fire fur & mistletoe #spnchristmasbingo #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #supernatural #christmas

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vintagedolan · 4 years

Text

mixtape | track six

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist | visual by @brockhsmpton

“Okay so let me get this straight. You have a boyfriend. Your boyfriend is famous. You’re flying to LA with said boyfriend. And you’re staying at his house? Cause he’s 20 and has a fucking house.”

“Uh yeah, that pretty much covers it.”

“Jesus, I move across the country and then you decide to start getting interesting.”

Indy flipped her grilled cheese over in the skillet, and then flipped off the camera, getting an eye roll from Charlie that she felt through the facetime call.

“You gonna be okay on the plane?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, trying to push the nagging thoughts from her mind.

“Indiana. You’ve gotta tell him before you get on that plane. If you can even get on the plane that is.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it, okay?”

Her list of distractions was dwindling as she finished all the work that had been piled on her before fall break, which was really only a long four day weekend. All she had left was an exam that afternoon, and then it would be time to go.

Grayson had insisted that they take Beks advice, take a trip out of the city to somewhere other than Jersey. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least.

“That sounds fun but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. Her usual excuse for getting out of things that made her anxious was simple. School. Too much homework, upcoming exam, blah blah blah. Usually that just earned her an eye roll, maybe an off hand ‘nerd’ comment too, but then the subject would be dropped.

Grayson wouldn’t be swayed that easily; and, she didn’t even have her default option. She scrambled for ideas with her thoughts running wild until he reached across the couch and laid his hand on top of hers.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I was thinking about airports.” It wasn’t a lie, but that was only partially the culprit of the knot in her stomach.

“It’s a straight flight to LA, super easy. I’ve done it way too many times, I know my way around.”

She chewed her lip and he squeezed her hand.

“C’mon, you’ll love it. LA is shitty sometimes but it’s amazing too. And you can meet Eden finally, she’s always asking about you. And Adele too. And I can show you the house, the pod studio. We can go surfing if you want. I’ll take you to Monty’s.”

“Gray. I can’t afford it.”

“Like I was gonna make you pay for it,” he laughed, but she stayed still beside him, unable to find the same amusement.

“I don’t want you to spend money on me like that.”

“Money doesn’t mean much to me. Doesn’t mean anything to me really,” he shrugged - she couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. It felt a bit hypocritical, for her to be acting like she struggled with money while she sat in her nice Chelsea apartment. But that money hadn’t come from her own pockets - it came with the price tag of guilt and the threat of it being taken away if her dad felt like it, which kept her and her ever shrinking savings account on edge. Money didn’t seem to be a real concept in the Dolan family however, and she tried to remind herself of that while Gray toyed with her fingers.

He switched to other tactics of persuasion when the silence stretched a bit too long, moving closer and nuzzling into her neck, pressing little kisses to her skin in between murmurs of “please Dee” and “c’mon baby”.

She conceded, gently tugging on his hair to get him to come back to her.

“Fine. But I’m paying you back one day. When I can.”

Grayson knew that wouldn’t be for years, and he liked the idea of her and him that far in the future, so he just nodded and kissed her again.

Charlie stayed on the line while Indy ate and then moved on to finish her packing, throwing in too many outfits for just four days and four nights, but she wasn’t sure what California called for. It took her a good five minutes of digging to find her bathing suits that she hadn’t drug out since the summer, but she eventually added them to the bag as the final touch and got everything ready. Charlie convinced her to take a few pieces of skimpier clothing in case the ‘vibes were right’, which had Indy blushing bright red and eventually making an excuse to get off the phone before she had to get into her sex life any further with her sister.

Her breathing settled for a moment when her phone buzzed, a message from ‘gray 💚 ’.

Plane snacks?

Also does coffee make you shit your pants

Cause I’ll get you some for the ride to the airport if it won’t hurt your tummy on the plane

Leave it to him to put a smile on her face even as her stomach continued to turn. She tried to convince herself it was her exam that had her so worked up, but she knew better.

if 4 years as a barista gave me anything it was immunity in that department

so yes to the coffee pls :)

and just get me whatever you’re getting for snacks please

Gotcha, I’ll swing by and get your bag

Good luck on your exam! Not that you need it

I’ll be waiting outside in the ugly ass truck 💜 I love you

see you soon, I love you too

With that she packed up the last few things, leaving her bag in plain sight before she left for class. She was able to clear her mind enough on her walk, getting herself into ‘school mode’ before she got to the building. The exam went easily, as she expected that it would - it was nice to have subjects like medical terminology that were so cut and dry sometimes. Either you know it, or you don’t, as Nicole used to say. No point in guessing.

Indy didn’t like having to guess.

Which was why she had the airport map pulled up on her phone while she stood on the sidewalk, leaned up against the building as she tried to plan out the best way to get to the terminal that they needed. She’d already done this - three times, actually - but it made her feel better anyways.

She heard the rumble of the engine first, but it only held her ears for a moment. Because then, it was a giggle, and a squeal, and a whispered voice saying “no, that’s them, that has to be them! Who the fuck else would have a truck like that?”

Indiana’s stomach tightened even more somehow at the realization of what was happening. Charlie’s voice rang in her ears - your boyfriend is famous.

They’d never talked about what to do in a situation like this, but she’d seen enough stories about celebrities who hid their relationships to know that ‘undisclosed’ was the default setting. Suddenly very thankful that she’d decided to go with a hoodie that morning, she pulled the fabric up over her hair and dropped her head, keeping her eyes trained upward to watch what Grayson was doing.

She watched the girls go up to the cab and ask for a photo, which Grayson seemed to happily oblige to, though he didn’t get out of the car. He noticed her a moment later and his smile faltered at the realization that she’d been waiting on him. The girls asked him to give their love to Ethan and then went on their way. Indy held back for a few moments, waiting until they were out of sight before she hurried forward and got into the passenger seat.

“You must have finished that exam quick, I figured I’d be waiting on you,” Gray teased, but his voice was a bit tight.

“It was pretty easy, you either know it or you don’t.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t have known any of it,” he laughed, eyes still scanning the street - whether for cars or people, she couldn’t tell. “You ready to go?”

No. “Sure.”

The pair had felt the peace of comfortable silence enough in their relationship so far to know when it was absent, and there wasn’t a trace of it to be found. Indy was too caught up in her own mind to react to Grayson’s attempts to engage her, from the hand on her bouncing thigh to the looks he snuck, eyes darting from the busy road for a moment. She kept her coffee in both her hands - drinking it was counterproductive in terms of her nerves most likely, but the warmth of it was comforting enough for her to justify it. Grayson’s mouth got drier with every exit they passed, and he kept his cool until they got to the pay to park lot at the airport and he shifted the truck into park.

“We don’t have to go you know.”

The dejection in his voice was finally enough to pull Indiana out of her own little world. Her eyes came back into focus as she turned to him.

“Gray-”

“If it’s about the money, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just really wanted to show you LA, cause it’s a big part of me, and I didn’t want you to be stressed about the price of tickets.”

“It’s not the money.”

“Then what is it? Because you’re pissed about something, obviously, and I’d like to be let in on the secret if you don’t mind.”

She shrunk under his harsh tone, unsure of whether she should even say anything. She hated when she got like this, and hated even more that she didn’t even have a hope of control over it, despite it being herself, her own mind causing the issues.

“Planes.”

“What?”

“It’s not you, it’s planes. Airports. Flying in general. I just… I don’t like it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ve been on plenty of planes, and nothing bad has ever happened while I was on there.” There was an airiness to his tone, as if it was as simple as his own testimony fixing the entire situation.

“That… doesn’t help.” She didn’t even like the thought of him being on a plane, much less the both of them. She practically flinched at the sound of one flying over them.

Grayson’s wheels were turning, slower than he wanted them to as he scrambled for an idea, anything that could make her feel better at the realization that his words had only made it worse.

“Can I have a redo on that?”

She looked up at him - at his sheepish smile and the blush on his cheeks, and the next breath she took in was a tad easier.

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling anxious, what can I do to help?”

His tone was so flat that they just looked at each other and then busted out laughing. Indiana couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her laugh when she felt so terribly. It was almost foreign to her - she felt like she shouldn’t be doing it somehow.

“Sorry, that was - fuck that was formal,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “What I meant was, whatever you need, I’ll do. You just have to tell me.”

“Uh… not going.”

His hand moved to the gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and leave. She placed hers on top of his, holding on when he moved away.

“Kidding.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little serious. But I want to. I want to go, it’s just hard. Having someone with me that I trust helps though.”

His chest swelled a bit at the realization that he was considered one of those people - it was one of the best honors he could imagine being given by somebody that he cared about, probably because it wasn’t something that he gave out easily. He pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the soft skin.

“I’ll be with you then. You can hold onto me the whole time.”

“You sure about that?”

He frowned immediately at that, reaching his hand over to her thigh, running a thumb over the material of her leggings. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean you’re probably gonna have more fans coming up to you and stuff. I figured you didn’t want them like… knowing about me.”

“I never said that,” he countered, squeezing a bit. “I mean if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but I’m okay with it if you are.”

There was a sincerity to his gaze that conveyed what he hadn’t said - an almost plea for her to be okay with it. And so she was, at least enough for her to give him a nod and a quick kiss before stepping out of the truck.

He got to her bags before she could, and he was grateful that he’d only brought a duffle. He managed both bags with one hand and grabbed onto hers with the other as they started through the parking lot.

And he didn’t let go a single time, apart from the security scans and her going to pee after they made it through, in which he waited outside the bathroom for her with his arms crossed. Ethan met up with them at the terminal, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see Eden for the first time in a month. He was staying an extra week to get some quality time with her, and he was a constant stream of excitement. Grayson kept his attention on Indy though, trying to read her for any signs that things were getting worse. He kept a hand on her bouncing leg, running a thumb back and forth constantly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple every so often.

“I’m gonna go check something really quick, I’ll be right back. Ethan, stay with her okay?”

Ethan didn’t question it. He slid over to replace his brother for a moment as he headed up to the desk at the gate. Despite his bubbly charm, Ethan had a calmer nature to him than Grayson did, no matter how hard he tried to exude the same level headedness. It came effortlessly to his twin it seemed.

“Gingerale helps calm me down on planes. Don’t know why but it does,” he mumbled, scooting a bit closer so his arm was pressed up along hers on the small bars between their seats.

He didn’t seem to need a response, and Indy was grateful. She leaned against him a bit more as a silent thank you that he seemed to accept, and they stayed that way until Grayson returned, switching out places again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder immediately.

“I upgraded us to first class.”

“What? Why!?” She spoke for the first time since the car, surprised that her voice still sounded stable.

“You’ll see. C’mon, we’re about to board. You still sure you want to do this?”

She couldn’t give him an answer, but she stood up anyways and held onto his arm as they scanned their tickets and moved down the jet bridge. He pressed kisses to her blonde hair, ducking down a few times to check on her as they made their way down and got settled into their seats, Ethan settling into the row beside her.

Indy kept her lip tucked underneath her top teeth, looking around at anything to distract her from where she was as her mind raced, so fast she couldn’t even pinpoint what was making her the most anxious.

“Focus on me. I’m right here,” Grayson hummed, reaching over to turn her face towards his for a moment. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in her voice. She felt like she was going to cry, and she tucked her hood up over her ears, trying to drown out anything that sounded remotely like an airplane. Her lungs weren’t working how she wanted them to, and she sucked in breath after breath, none of them deep enough to relieve the tightness in her chest.

“Here. Try this.”

Long fingers tucked into her hood, moving her hair back from her ear so he could slip one of his headphones in. It fit snugly, and he scrambled to his phone, pulling up his Cudi playlist and scrolling through until he found what he wanted. The familiar intro of Teleport 2 Me, Jamie started to play as the final passengers boarded onto the rather large plane. How had everyone gotten on so fast? It seemed her mind was running away from her, making time move faster, bringing on the inevitable.

“This song makes me think about you, you know. I know Jamie is your middle name but still.”

She barely registered his words as a few tears snuck out of the corner of her eyes. Even her lips were shaking as she tried to breathe, curling in on herself with her knees pulled to her chest. The flight attendant was nice enough to not ask to see her seatbelt, sensing that she was better left undisturbed.

The guilt started to eat Grayson alive as he watched her struggle, running a hand over her back and leaning over to hold onto her, looking to his brother for support. Ethan’s eyes were wide with concern but he was just as helpless, not even being able to reach a comforting hand across the aisle because of the flight attendants passing by. It only got worse as they began to move - Grayson couldn’t tell if she was shaking harder or if it was just the movement of the plane.

The only good sign he got was her reaching her hand out in search of his. When he laced his fingers with hers she squeezed so hard he knew his bones were moving in a way they weren’t meant to, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not when he was the cause of her being in so much distress. It put a pit in his stomach, a mixture of the urge to apologize over and over and the wish that he could somehow climb inside her mind and soothe her, make her believe that she would be alright.

So, he did the next best thing he could think of. As soon as they had taken off, which felt like it took hours, he reached to her waist and unclipped her seatbelt.

“Come here.”

It took a moment for her to process, but once she understood Indy didn’t hesitate to climb over into his lap, curling up so small that she fit comfortably there in the wide first class seat, head tucked into the nook of his neck as he wrapped her up in his arms.

“You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” she squeaked. If anyone else in first class heard it, they elected to ignore it. “It’s not usually this bad.”

“Shhhh, don’t. Just close your eyes. We’ll be there before you know it, okay?”

She reached a hand up to his neck, tucking it in against his skin under his sweatshirt as an anchor before she closed her eyes. She wrestled with her mind, trying to override with a focus on what she was physically feeling - his warm skin under her fingertips, the roughness of his beard against her forehead, the change of the song in her headphone. Her other ear was pressed against his chest and she tried to listen for his heartbeat, getting sidetracked when his hand moved her hoodie up barely so he could get underneath to her skin. One finger began to trace.

I-M-S-O-R-R-Y

She shook her head, tilting up to press her nose against him. It was her that should be apologizing, she thought. She hadn’t warned him properly of what to expect. That being said, it was true that she hadn’t had such a bad experience in a while - it only clicked then that it probably had to do with the fact that Grayson was on the plane too. If it crashed and she died, so would he, and the thought of it made her want to hurl. Instead, she clung to him tighter, forming letters by his collarbone with her fingertip.

N-O-T-Y-O-U-R-F-A-U-L-T

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving his lips there for a moment before he shifted and rested his cheek on top of her head.

S-T-I-L-L-S-O-R-R-Y

She nuzzled closer to him.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U

Against her hip, she felt four gentle squeezes, a silent I love you too as they continued through the sky.

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

“Jesus. It’s hot. Like, hot hot.”

“Ethan. It’s Cali. Of course it’s fucking hot.”

“Yeah, but it’s not natural for it to be this hot in fucking October. Anywhere.”

Indy listened to their bickering quietly, catching her breath a little more with each mile she put between her and the airport. It was just her leg bouncing now as she sipped on her gingerale - it had appeared on her tray table at some point in the flight and she hadn’t been able to stomach it until she made it out of the airport and into Ethan’s tesla, which was driven by Adele, a sweet woman with a kind smile and soft voice.

Grayson sat in the backseat with her, still on alert for any sign that she was anxious, hand resting on her thigh. But he breathed easier as he watched her body finally begin to accept that she was on the ground, and by the time they pulled up to the gate she was almost back to her normal self.

She enjoyed the feeling of her feet on the hard concrete of the driveway when she got out of the car, feeling a bit like a celebrity when the door swung open over her head. Grayson grabbed the bags and was immediately at her side, taking her hand and leading her up to the door. It wasn’t the first time that Indy had seen the inside of the house - she’d gotten glimpses of it on a few vlogs that they’d watched with Bekah one night. But there was a warmth to the space that didn’t quite read on camera, a familiarity that she realized was traces of Grayson everywhere, from the Cudi vinyls on the shelf to the wood based furniture that he’d definitely had a hand in making.

“I’m going to get Eden, I’ll be back in… I don’t know how long,” Ethan winked, immediately grabbing his keys and heading back out to the still warm Tesla, leaving his bag off the side of the kitchen.

“You up for a tour?”

If she was honest, her body was entirely exhausted, and her mind wasn’t far behind. But she perked up for his sake and nodded, taking his hand as he started to guide her through the house. He stopped in each room, showing off little details he’d helped pick out, from the colorful couch in the sunken room off the kitchen to the floating desk in Ethan’s room that he’d helped him install. The podcast studio was the most eclectic of any of them, with a massive wooden table that almost seemed carved around the blue light in the middle - not to mention the hot pink wall of the entrance, which was cut off by a wild jungle wallpaper wall that stretched from one end of the house to the other. Grayson spoke a mile a minute, explaining every step, every change they had made to the house since they’d bought it. Indy’s mind struggled to keep up, to visualize what he was saying, describing rooms she’d never seen.

“Ethan got the master this time around, so my room is a little smaller, but it’s cooler anyways.”

He guided her into a dark room on the right side of the hallway. It was somehow calmer than the rest of the house, and it practically zapped the rest of the energy out of her as soon as she passed the threshold. He showed her the green bathroom, the fancy toilet he’d picked out, his massive and meticulously organized closet. But when she flopped down onto the bed, she knew she was done for.

Grayson smiled when she hummed against the comforter - the first true sign of relaxation she’d shown since he’d picked her up from campus that morning.

“You tired bubs?”

“No,” she lied.

“You wanna take a nap?”

“No.”

“Your eyes are closed.”

“I’m resting, I just need like… 30 seconds.”

“You can sleep.”

“You were gonna show me the backyard though.”

She felt the bed dip down slightly, and then his lips were on her temple.

“The backyard will be there when you wake up. Besides, I need to get some work done anyways, and you’ve had a shitshow of a morning. Sleep, and maybe we can go get dinner with E squared later if you’re up for it, and I’ll take you to the beach.”

“E squared?” She muttered, only half motivated to stay awake for the answer.

“Ethan and Eden. They’ll be back over in a few hours I’m sure, he’s saving us from having to listen to their reunion fuck through the walls.”

“How considerate.” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, and it made Grayson smile. He moved to his closet, opening the extra drawer he used to store his blankets and pulling one out for her.

She vaguely felt the weight of the fabric being laid over her, and a gentle hum that sounded like ‘I love you’ before her body finally gave in and succumbed to sleep.

As soon as he knew she was out, Grayson got to work on all the things that he’d neglected in the last month. He made quick work of a full email inbox, a few calls that he stepped out of the room for, a Wakeheart campaign approval that he forwarded to Ethan - something about being back in LA lit the fire under him that always seemed to simmer out in the cool Jersey air. It took less thought, less intention to go into his kitchen, use his preset on the coffee machine with his favorite mug under it. Jersey was home, but LA was home, and he never realized how much he loved it until he was away for a while. His phone buzzed, loud against the counter - a text from Ethan running across his screensaver of the only picture he’d taken with Indy so far. He made a mental note to take more over the next few days before he opened the message.

Be there in 10, make sure everyone has pants on

He liked the message and stood up slowly, closing his laptop before heading back towards his room. He paused in the doorway, unable to help himself as he looked in.

Indiana was sprawled out across his bed, one of her legs escaping from under the covers. The pillow was tucked under her head, held by one arm while the other reached out to the empty side of the bed, hand splayed out on the fabric. With his phone already in his hand he couldn’t help but to snap a quick picture of her, a sweet memory that he knew he’d want to keep. He felt a little guilty having to wake her up from what seemed like such a peaceful nap, but he also knew she’d be made if he didn’t give her a chance to freshen up before Eden got there. So he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, rubbing along her back until her eyes blinked opened.

“Time to get up sleepyhead,” he teased, keeping his hand on her hip as she rolled over and stretched out in the most adorable way.

“Hmmmm, c’mere,” she grinned, reaching up for him and pulling his lips down to hers. The little cat nap seemed to be the recovery her body needed, a reset that allowed her mind to focus on other things, like how good Grayson looked in the fresh t-shirt that he’d changed into while she was out. He indulged her, moving a knee onto the bed so he could get above her and get behind the kiss.

“Ethan’s gonna be here in 10,” he murmured, but his lips still moved against hers, his relief palpable that she seemed to be doing better.

“Then we have 9.”

“Eden’s coming too.”

She pulled back with wide eyes, and before he could say another word she was rolling out from underneath him. It took her two whole rolls to get to the other side of the bed, which was almost as endearing to Grayson as the way she scurried to her bag in the closet, immediately pulling out clothes like her life depended on it.

“Baby, it’s just Eden.”

“No, it’s Ethan’s girlfriend Eden. Which means she’s not just Eden, it means she’s very important.”

“Important? You act like this is a job interview or something.”

“It’s a girlfriend interview, which is worse.”

“A what?” He struggled to stay focused on her answer as she pulled her leggings off and wiggled into a pair of high waisted black jean shorts as she spoke.

“When you have a woman in your life, a good woman, who isn’t your girlfriend, they go into protective mode. It’s a maternal thing I think, but it doesn’t matter who it is, they keep an eye out for you. And the biggest threat that those women can see for their guy friend is a new girlfriend. It doesn’t mean she’s gonna hate me, but she’s definitely gonna want to vet me at the least. And I bet it’s worse because I’ll be around Ethan so much so she’ll want to be extra careful. Plus, she doesn’t know me from adam, and...hey. Hey. Are you listening to me?”

At some point in the middle of her explanation she’d taken her shirt off, and Grayson’s mind had gone a bit fuzzy at the sight of her bra - dark purple, with a peek of lace under the cups.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Eden’s nice though, she’s sweet, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

She turned to him with a frustrated frown that he kissed away when he closed the distance between them, hands moving to hold her bare hips. Her skin was soft and still had a trace of warmth from sleep, and it made him hold on and rub his thumbs against her for a moment, trying to process that she was actually there with him.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, and besides, her opinion of you isn’t going to change my opinion of you.” He kissed her forehead quickly and let go so she could get ready. She pulled a tank top on and headed into the bathroom, freshening up until the moment that she heard the front door open, signally Ethan and Eden’s arrival.

“Do I look okay?”

“Perfect as always,” he beamed, taking her hand and leading her back out towards the kitchen.

“Grayson!”

Eden came running around the island and barrelled into Grayson like she hadn’t seen him in years. He caught her with a smile, a laugh and a ‘hey evil’, an inside joke that Indy wasn’t let in on. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because she was immediately wrapped up in tan arms, her vision obscured by a curtain of wavy black hair.

“Hi! I’m Eden, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Indiana, nice to meet you too!”

The hug was as awkward as any first hug she’d ever had, but the smile on the boy’s faces made it worth it when Indy pulled back. Ethan was glowing in the way you only glow after you get laid for the first time in a long time, and he’d apparently worked up an appetite, because they didn’t spend more than five minutes in the house before they were headed out to Monty’s. Indy still tried to open the Tesla door like a normal one, barely stepping back in time when it lifted up above her head. To her surprise, Eden jumped into the backseat beside her, forcing Grayson up to the passenger seat next to Ethan.

“So, you’re in school right? To be a nurse?”

“A doctor actually, but yeah, I graduate in a little over a month with my Bachelor’s,” Indy explained, preparing herself for the questions she was sure to get, being careful to be truthful in her answers without accidentally saying something that would make Eden hate her. Ethan’s girlfriend had a sweet face, peppered in freckles that almost looked faded in her warm toned skin. Her eyes sat large on her face, making her look a bit like a doe. But her outfit told a different story - everything about it spoke confidence and bad bitch energy in a way that Indiana was only used to seeing on LA model’s instagrams. It hit her quickly that it was very much possible that Eden might actually be an LA model, and the thought made her mouth run dry.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a graphic designer.”

“Oh really? That’s amazing! What kind of work do you do?”

Eden launched into her career, from how she got there to what major brands she’d worked for - some of which shocked Indy. Grayson reached back behind his seat a few minutes into the drive, holding onto her leg and running his thumb along her skin as he balanced listening to his brother and listening to the girls. The energy settled in the cab, and Indy breathed out a sigh of relief at the realization that, for now at least, she’d passed the test.

It didn’t stop the questions though. A constant stream of information grabs, from her favorite things about New York to her family. Grayson squeezed tight when Eden mentioned her mom, throwing Ethan an unjustified look of annoyance. Indiana didn’t mind, though she didn’t love the look of pity that came over Eden’s face when she let her know that she had passed. But it moved on quickly, on to questions of her apartment, her college, her friends.

The only pause came when the Tesla rolled to a stop outside of Monty’s, which was packed with a long line outside. Eden let out a small sigh, reaching down for her purse.

“Usual, guys?”

They both nodded, a bit of unspoken tension growing in the air.

“Indiana, you wanna come with? The boys can just circle around.”

“I uh… yeah, yeah sure.” Indy went along with it, stepping out of the car quickly, trying to look back at Grayson through the window for some explanation, but they were so tinted that she couldn’t even guess what his facial expression was. Eden linked their arms quickly, leading her down the sidewalk and to the back of the line as if nothing had happened. Indy watched Ethan pull away quickly, and swore she could see a very concerned Grayson through the windshield.

“It makes it easier if they don’t have to get out. Too many people, and with a line this long the paps would show up.”

Two brunette girls in front of them turned around, interest piqued.

“Paps? For who?”

“No one, mind your damn business,” Eden said, waiting until they turned around to melt back into her usual friendly demeanor.

“I didn’t even think about that. About like, getting recognized I guess. But it happened in New York for the first time this morning, on campus.”

“LA is the worst for it. People see you take a picture with someone and then ask for one even if they don’t know who they are. Well, most people our age know who they are actually, but still. It’s not as bad in other places, just the occasional person. Et-” she cut herself off, knowing the girls were still eavesdropping. “He loves meeting fans but it gets to be a lot sometimes. So I try to help him out when I can. They’ll never ask for it, but they never turn it down either.”

Indy swallowed hard. She said it so casually, as if it was totally normal for the two of them to be standing there while their boyfriends drove around just so they didn’t get mobbed. She felt like a million pairs of eyes were on her as they inched forward in line every few moments. Eden just looked at her nails, picking at her cuticles.

“Does it ever get… normal? Them being recognized?”

“You learn to ignore it. And they don’t go out as much as you think. We’ll go out to show you around because you’ve never been here, but most of the time they’re home bodies. They kinda had to be, coming out here so young.”

“I can’t imagine coming out here at 15,” Indy mumbled, shaking her head.

“They’ve been through a lot. But then again so have you. So has everyone, at the end of the day.”

She was taken aback by the sudden depth of the conversation, but it didn’t last long, because soon they were close enough to the menu that Indy was asking questions. The Tesla circled again while they waited on the food, which came in little brown boxes stuffed into a bag. The girls waited on the curb for Ethan to pull back around, climbing in as inconspicuously as they could, getting settled into the backseat again.

“Got the goods?”

“You know it,” she grinned. Grayson reached back for Indiana again - he’d missed her in the few minutes that they were gone, and he didn’t realize he’d been anxious until it faded when she was back with him.

“We’re going to the secret beach, it’ll be like 10 minutes, so don’t eat all my fries.”

“I bought us all an extra to share.”

“Atta’ girl,” Ethan said, pressing on the gas a bit harder.

The secret beach, it turned out, was just a less populated one. But it was peaceful, washed pink by the beginnings of a sunset over the ocean. Grayson couldn’t tell if he was more overwhelmed by the colors in the sky or the feeling of finally having his own girl with him, someone’s hand to hold as he moved down the sand beside his brother and Eden. It had been almost a year of him being a third wheel, and he couldn’t stop looking over at Indy, his girl, who was there with him.

Her eyes were on the ocean. Sure, she’d seen the atlantic ocean plenty of times, but the pacific was different. It seemed bigger somehow, bluer, and it took her breath away. Food forgotten, she tugged on Grayson’s hand, only pausing to kick off her shoes before she was running down towards the water, laughing when the froth of the waves tickled her toes. Grayson’s shoes were soaked, but he didn’t care as he followed her down the coastline, laughing and yelling, picking her up around the waist and spinning her around, stopping to kiss her hard as the waves crashed. Ethan took a video on Grayson’s phone, a proud smile on his face as he watched his brother light up. Eden rested her head on his shoulder, remembering the days where that was the two of them, when everything was brand new and on fire.

The duo’s burgers were cold by the time they made it back up the beach, and Ethan had already started in on Grayson’s fries, much to his dismay. But they settled in the sand and ate their food, falling back into the group conversation between bites and swallows.

“So, you’ve been in LA for what, 5 hours now? Are you sold yet?” Ethan picked up another fry from the extra container, dropping it into his mouth.

“It’s gonna take a lot more to sell me on anywhere this far west,” she laughed, crumpling up the paper that her burger was wrapped in and tossing it into the box.

“Has Grayson made you a Jersey girl already?” Eden teased.

“It’s grown on me for sure, but nowhere compares to New York.”

Grayson chewed his last fry a bit slower.

“Yeah? Ethan took me into the city once when we were visiting Jersey but I don’t know much about it if I’m honest. I grew up in Texas.”

“The city is special once you get to know it. There’s so many different people, different cultures, new places to go. And it’s got all the best hospitals, which just makes me work harder because I want to work in one some day. Plus it uh… it’s just always been home to me. I can’t imagine living anywhere else really.”

Grayson’s stomach tightened, suddenly very full of food and smaller than when he’d started eating. They’d never really discussed living situations. He racked his brain, tried to remember if he ever mentioned that he was only staying in Jersey until the tiny homes were done. Surely she realized that he was going to come back to LA. He couldn’t tell if he’d subconsciously thought that she would want to move with him, or if he just assumed that they would handle the distance. But his mind was instantly filled with the image of Indy curled in on herself in a first class seat, and he resisted the urge to get up and walk it off as the guilt returned. The sun seemed to set faster, turning the beach indigo as everyone got up and headed back for the car.

Ethan took an extra moment to fold up the picnic blanket they’d brought, letting the girls get just out of earshot.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t go all doomsday on this shit and shoot yourself in the foot. Cross the distance bridge when you get to it. You all haven’t been together a month yet, if you start talking moving across the country she’s gonna freak. Give it time.”

Most of the time, Grayson despised Ethan’s big brother persona - 20 minutes wasn’t a flex when it came to maturity in his book. But in certain moments, he was grateful for his level head. It helped him breathe a little easier as he headed back to the car, happy to see that Eden had shifted to the front seat. He took the back, a bit annoyed at the space between their seats - another perk of his Porsche, no doubt. But he settled for resting a hand on Indy’s thigh and leaning over for the occasional kiss as they found their way home.

Each couple bid their goodnights despite the early hour, a silent understanding of the do not disturb courtesy to be followed. Indy and Gray bumped hips as they brushed their teeth in the same sink, toothpaste filled smiles shining at each other in the mirror. They fell into each other like they’d done it a million times, even though they could still count on two hands the amount of times they’d had each other like this. It didn’t matter that they were in a new place. Grayson felt the same above her, beside her, behind her as they worked each other up and eased each other down. Their voices echoed off the walls the same, the attempt to stay quiet still there as they tried to give the other couple the same respect that they were no doubt trying to give them.

The travel caught up with Indy first - she was much less versed in time changes after all, and she fell asleep right after her quick shower, curled up in Grayson’s arms, his nose full of her vanilla shampoo and his mind racing, running laps around two words. New York.

He felt like he heard more about the city in his next few days than he did when he was actually there. They facetimed Bekah the next morning, glad to see that she’d made it out of surgery successfully, and that all was smooth sailing so far. She was ecstatic that her two friends we’re getting a break, and she excitedly showed them the new view of the city she had since her recovery room was on the other side of the hospital.

Indy wore a New York sweatshirt that evening when they went back to the secret beach, and she fell asleep with it on on the couch at home, leaned back against Grayson’s chest. He carried her to bed and kissed her forehead, but his eyes focused on the letters, which seemed to be staring at him in the dark.

They ordered pizza for lunch the next day, after an anxiety filled morning of Eden and Indy in a follow car behind the two of them longboarding with their friends. Eden asked about what made NYC pizza so much better, and it seemed like Indy could have talked for hours about crust and sauce, seasoning and ratios.

By the third day, it was consuming his every thought, and despite Ethan’s advice to let it play out, he knew he had to talk to her, or at least try to.

Indy was none the wiser. The LA sun had warmed her skin and her mind, leaving little lines of its presence on both. By the second day the house felt less like a hotel and more like a home, and she understood why the boys loved it so much. Eden became more than an acquaintance; she was easy to love, and the interview seemed to have stopped for the most part. But a part of her still itched for her New York apartment, the bustle of the city, the familiarity of campus and Jets and the blocks that she walked down.

She thought she’d hidden it well, but she learned she was mistaken on the last night they spent in LA.

“You’re ready to leave, aren’t you?”

Indy perked up from where she had settled on his chest. It was routine now, for her to rest against him and trace patterns on his skin before they dozed off.

“Hmm?”

“You’re tracing N-Y-C on my chest. You want to go home.”

“Home sounds nice, the plane ride doesn’t though,” she laughed a bit. Laughing was good. Calm, and put together. “Guess it’s just my subconscious.”

Grayson sighed against her, running his fingers over her back as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t realize you were so attached.”

“To what?”

“To the city.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, it’s home.”

“Home can be multiple places. LA is home, Jersey is home, hell, even Australia is home for me in a way.”

Indy’s neck got tired from craning up at him, so she shifted up to sit with her legs criss cross as he lounged back against the pillows.

“Well, I’ve never really had to make anywhere else home. New York has everything I need I guess.”

“You’ve never wanted to try somewhere else?”

Indy sighed, finally understanding.

“Gray, baby, it’s not like I hate it here. I know it’s important to you, and it should be. I’m just saying that New York is… well, it’s New York. It’s important to me, it’s where I’ve planned out my future.”

He sat up further, propping up on his elbow, resting a hand on her knee.

“What does that mean though? ‘New York is New York’. I mean, it’s a cool city, I’ll give you that, but it’s not just that, right?”

It took a moment for Indy to find her words. She’d never really tried to explain it to anyone, but if anyone would get it, it was him.

“It’s my mom.”

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he opened his mouth, but she kept talking before he could.

“I know she’s not there. She’s wherever she is, I guess. But she breathed New York Grayson. That’s the last place that I knew her while she was still her, and the last place that she knew me. My memories of her live in that city, and when I’m not there I feel like I’m even farther away from her. And I already feel like I’m forgetting little things, because it’s been 4 years now, and I can’t even tell what I can’t remember, and it’s scary.”

Her breath caught in her throat a bit at the realization of what she was saying, what she was admitting. She’d never spoken any of it, not even to Charlie.

“Leaving would feel like moving on and leaving her behind, and I can’t do that. I can’t.”

Her face fell into her hands, and when Grayson’s arms moved around her and pulled her close, she let him.

He held her there until her tears stopped, rocking her barely back and forth until the wave had passed. He thought of Sean, of where he was, and what he would say. And he did his best to take on the heart of his father, to be like the man he so admired - selfless, and good, and strong for others no matter what it cost him. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he spoke.

“No one is asking you to leave. I promise, I’ll never ask you to leave. I promise.”

#SURPRISE HEHE #mixtape #wowza I did not expect to finish this tonight #well #~this morning~ i suppose #please let me know what you think!!!#love you guys!#grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction

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remedialpotions · 3 years

Text

Dawn

As a thank-you to the lovely folks on the HPRomione discord who made my job organizing the inaugural Secret Santa gift exchange so easy and delightful, I wrote this toothache-inducing fluff. Special thanks to @al-in-the-air for schooling me on how to *properly* make a cup of tea; I will never speak the words ‘fire kettle’ in your presence again. 😘

ffn ao3

Ron yawns and stretches his arms up over his head, revealing a sliver of pale skin below the hem of his shirt. Hermione likes him like this, bedraggled, warm from sleep, peaceful. In these pre-dawn hours, having been coaxed from the warmth and comfort of his bed, he is the most natural, authentic version of himself.

“Remind me again,” he says, sitting down next to her on the carpet. “Why couldn't we have done this last night?”

“Oh, we could have done,” replies Hermione briskly as she taped a piece of wrapping paper into place around a box, “if you and your brothers hadn’t got so invested in your game of charades-“

“Erm, have you forgotten that George cheated at one point and we had to redo it? We may be business partners, but I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen-”

“-then we could have left at a reasonable hour.”

“Ahh, well,” Ron chuckles. “Worth it to see Percy trying to mime ‘The Wizard and His Hopping Pot’.” He stretches his long legs out before him and surveys the scene beneath the lowest branches of the tree. “Looks like you’ve got most of this done already, have you been down here a while?”

“Oh,” says Hermione as she picks up a gift tag and a quill. “Yes, I woke up a bit earlier than we planned.” At the tilt of his head - he’s clearly about to ask why, since they didn’t Floo home until well past one in the morning - she quickly adds, “but everything we left out for Father Christmas is still over there. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Right!” With remarkable energy for such an early hour, Ron jumps to his feet and retrieves the tray they left near the hearth the evening previous, which bears a plate of biscuits, a few carrots, and a small glass of whiskey. “This is the best part of being a dad.”

Halfway through addressing the gift tag - to Rose, with love from Father Christmas - Hermione looks up and quirks a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Eating stale biscuits at seven in the morning is the best part of being a dad?”

“Maybe not the best, but definitely a perk.” Ron sits himself back down on the carpet beside Hermione, tray in front of him. “It’s a bit too early for the whiskey now, though, innit?”

“You can probably just leave it,” agrees Hermione. “I don’t know that Rose will really notice it’s different.”

“Yeah, I suppose she’s not even two yet,” says Ron as he snaps one of the biscuits in half and pops it in his mouth. “But I’d like to at least try to keep up the illusion.”

Hermione affixes the gift tag to the box and sets it under the tree. “Do you know how I figured it out? That there wasn’t a Father Christmas at all?”

“I assume you did the maths and realized there’s no way some bloke in a sleigh can make it round the world in one night,” says Ron with a grin.

“Close, but no.” Hermione helps herself to a biscuit - then quickly realizes it’s the last thing she wants to eat, and sets it back down. “Actually, I realized that Father Christmas and my mum had the exact same handwriting on all my gifts.”

“And were you gutted to find this out?”

“Not particularly. I was a bit relieved, actually, it always seemed rather unsafe to let a strange man break in through the fireplace and eat our food.”

Ron lets out a deep, delighted belly laugh and leans over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Only you would worry about that.”

“So how did you figure it out?”

“Oh, the twins spilled the beans before I had the chance,” says Ron flippantly. “Not that it mattered much anyway, he usually only brought like, new socks and things like that.” His features turn pensive. “I hope Rose doesn’t cotton on to it for a long time.”

Hermione nods. She’s suddenly acutely aware of every tiny detail: the hush over their sitting room, the ever-present twinkling of the fairy lights adorning the tree, the knowledge that their daughter is sleeping soundly upstairs. She is not often one for sentimentality, but things right now feel perfect, just as they are.

“I hope so too. But,” she adds, more businesslike as she unfurls the roll of wrapping paper, “it’ll be quite a long time before we have to worry about that.”

“Is this the last one?” asks Ron, picking up a box containing a toy dragon that breathes warm, kid-friendly fire upon command. “I can do it.”

“Oh, I’ve got it under control.”

“You’ve done nearly all of them though.” Carefully, he prises the wrapping paper out of her hands. “You could have woken me when you got up, you know. I don’t actually mind.”

“I know you don’t, but it’s fine. I supposed at least one of us should get some sleep.” As Ron used his wand to sever the paper (he was missing out, Hermione thought, on the glorious sliding sensation that comes only when using scissors to cut wrapping paper), she hauled herself to her feet. “Do you want some tea?”

“So we’re not going back to bed after this, then?”

“There isn’t really time, Rose is going to wake up soon.”

Ron’s gaze shifts toward the sitting room window, where the first vestiges of grey winter light are just streaming through the curtains. “She does rise with the sun these days,” he agrees. “Yeah, tea sounds great, cheers.”

Hermione pats him on the shoulder as she walks to the kitchen, where she sets the tea kettle to boil. As the water heats up, she opens the cupboard below the sink and peers into its dark and disorganized depths. There, among bottles of cleaning solution and spare sponges, is a small parcel wrapped in shiny gold paper. She retrieves it from behind the drain pipe, and as she does, her stomach flutters with nervous excitement. It’s been doing that a lot the past few weeks, and now that the moment is upon her, she finds her hands trembling as she drops tea bags into mugs and pours the hot water.

It feels different than it did the last time. This time around, she knows how this is going to go, and she can’t wait.

In her eagerness, she scoops probably too much sugar into one of the mugs (which, considering Ron’s standards, is really saying something), and carries both back to the sitting room with the parcel tucked under her arm. Ron’s just taping the corners of a box closed when she reaches him.

“What’ve you got?” asks Ron, extending an arm up to take his tea from her.

“Oh, erm.” Hermione deposits herself onto the carpet beside him. “This is for you, actually.”

She places the box onto his lap. With his mug of tea halfway to his lips, Ron frowns at it, then looks up at Hermione.

“We said we weren’t getting each other gifts this year.”

“I know, but can’t you just say thank you and open it?”

“No, I feel bad now, I’d have got you something if I knew - I even had ideas-“

“If it makes you feel better, it’s really for both of us. And Rose, actually,” she adds. “So just open it.”

Ron’s brows knit together in confusion. “How could it possibly-“

“Will you just open it already?” Hermione blurts out. “For God’s sake, you are impossible sometimes.”

“All right, all right,” Ron relents with a laugh,”I’m doing it.”

Breaking through the tape, he pulls the gold paper away from the box. It’s just plain white, a garment box, which Ron turns over in his hands to pull off the lid. Hermione’s heart thumps wildly in her chest as his hands push away the tissue paper and pick up an impossibly tiny jumper: retina-searing orange, with black interlocking Cs on the chest.

Quiet falls again; seconds drag on like hours.

“This is for a baby,” says Ron softly, and Hermione sees that his hands are shaking too.

“Right.”

“And… this won’t fit Rose.”

“Right.”

Their eyes meet. Ron’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly in a silent question; Hermione’s grateful he can’t find the words, because she can’t either. All she can do is nod… but it’s enough.

His arms engulf her, pressing her face against the soft fabric of his shirt and flooding her senses with the scent of his skin and his hair, everything about him that makes her feel safe and loved and whole.

“I can’t believe it,” he breathes, lips brushing the side of her neck as the words tumble out.

Hermione pulls back just enough to look at him. His blue eyes are shining. “Why can’t you believe it? It’s not like we haven’t been trying.”

“I know, I just-“ He leans in and kisses her, soft and sweet. “I still can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe I get to have this life with you.”

Without the words to properly express just how much she agrees, she simply kisses him again. Even with eyes squeezed tightly against the tears now threatening to fall, she can sense the new light filling the room. Rose will wake soon, to tear through wrapping paper and eat biscuits for breakfast and spend the day in her pyjamas, but Hermione hopes to cling to this moment for just a few seconds longer.

“So, all right.” Ron’s smiling at her, so broadly that his cheeks must ache. “When did you find out? How did you - I mean-“

“I’ve known a couple of weeks,” Hermione confesses, sheepish. “That’s why I was up so early today. I’ve had horrible morning sickness.”

Ron shakes his head in amazement. “You’re barking.”

“You’re not angry, are you? That I didn’t just tell you?”

“What - no - why I would be - it’s perfect, it’s all perfect.” Ron lips find hers again, working their way over to her ear. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Hermione settles contentedly into his embrace, but hardly has a chance to appreciate it when a small yet insistent yell sounds from the second floor.

“Dada!”

“Oh, that’s me,” says Ron cheerfully, releasing Hermione and clambering to his feet. “Shall I go get her? Are we ready?”

“Yes, we’re ready.”

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #2020 hpromione discord secret santa #tw: pregnancy #this idea has been rolling around in my head for SO LONG YOU GUYS

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