#anyway I’ll be in Europe for like two weeks

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

guys i’m flying out of the country tomorrow for the first time in almost 20 years and i’m lowkey freaking out a lil alskfhfdsgkjdhg

[spiderbeam]

and okay feel free to ignore this one because ive sent a bunch already buttt 🎧+max+7

🎧 — bugambilia by nasa histoires

Max is nervous. He hadn’t realized it until the bell dinged with his entrance, until you spoke your usual greeting, until your eyes met his and a smile spread over your lips. He’s a three time world champion, an icon of the world of motorsport, a celebrity—and yet he finds himself growing jittery at the sight of you.

Of course you’d be the type to fall for the one person in Europe who doesn’t know your name, Danny had teased.

He’d denied it. He didn’t have feelings for you. He had simply developed a fondness for flowers—and he just happened to like yours most.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon.” You dust your hands on your overalls as you stand up to greet him. You look pretty in overalls, he finds. Prettier even with your hair held up by a bow—alongside that lovely smile that always makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. “Thought you said you were leaving the country for work.”

Max realizes then he’s stayed quiet for too long. “Um, yeah,” he starts awkwardly, hands tucked in his pockets before he takes them out soon after. What do people usually do with their hands? “I did. It was just for the weekend, though.”

“Did you have fun?” you ask, before meeting his gaze with a playful roll of your eyes. “I know, work is work, but…”

“It was fine,” Max clicks his tongue, hoping he doesn’t sound too dismissive. “Not great.”

“Sorry to hear that.” You purse your lips, thinking for a moment. “Maybe you can rant a little while I trim these?” You gesture at the newly arrived flowers.

Max chuckles a little. He’s done plenty of ranting. Mostly in front of a camera. “Actually, I was hoping to get to hear you talk about your flowers—maybe give me a hand?”

You straighten as you stand up, nodding. “What’s today’s purchase gonna be?”

“Another gift,” he says, even though he’s ran out of friends to gift bouquets to. Twice is two times too many before they start looking at him weird.

You nod your head, ponytail bobbing. “Alright.” You clasp your hands together, smiling up at him. “Wanna look around for something that catches your eye, or are you in search for anything in particular?”

Max tilts his head at you. “Which are your favorites this week?” He asked you the same question last time, and the time before that. But, as you told him before, you can’t make up your mind—not permanently, anyway. Each time he comes around, you have a different answer prepared for him.

This time, you’re grinning. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” And then your hand is in his as you steer him towards the very back of the shop—and Max can feel his breath stuttering. He blinks in rapid succession, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. Jesus Christ, you’re just holding her hand. Pull yourself together.

Finally, you stop beside a shelf with purple and fuchsia flowers with papery petals and tiny light yellow blossoms inside them. Max feels as you let go of him, prompting him to step closer to the flowers. He leans forward, hoping to catch some floral scent like the lilies and jasmines you gave him a few weeks back. He doesn’t smell anything.

“They don’t have a scent,” you tell him. “It’s bugambilia. Bougainvillea. It’s not usually used for bouquets, though, so people rarely buy any. Except for this one woman, Marisol—she says it reminds her of home. But she only takes a few branches, doesn’t really want them as a bouquet.” You’re smiling when he turns back to you. “They don’t grow around here—not naturally, anyway. It’s why I like them.”

“Bougainvillea,” Max repeats, committing the syllables to memory. “So you’ve never had to sell a bouquet of these?”

“Not yet.” You shrug. “It’s under appreciated, in my opinion. I mean—most people just buy roses. Maybe sunflowers.”

He remembers you ranting about that last week. How impersonal is it to give red roses to someone on a date? It’s like giving a gift card. No sentiment whatsoever.

And Max, surprisingly enough, agreed. He believes in personal gestures. Gifts that proof you’ve been listening, that you’ve been paying attention. And as he side-glances at you, he can see your stare still lingering on the purple and pink flowers. He doesn’t need to think it over before he’s saying: “I’ll take it.”

You nod in approval, reaching up to take a few flowers. “I knew you would,” you say proudly, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You’ve got good taste, Max.”

Max chuckles. “Not really,” he says, shaking his head. “I just happen to know someone who does.” He’s looking at you as he says it, scratching his cheek, but he can see your lovely smile falter slightly. His brows pinch together.

You haul your selected bougainvillea onto the counter, with Max trailing close behind. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who buys as many flowers as you do—not that I’m complaining.” You try to sneak a glance at him as you’re tying off his bouquet. Max relishes in the heat that crawls up your cheeks when he catches you.

This is his chance, he realizes. But then he’s running circles again because what if you think he’s creepy? That he’s been buying flowers from you in hopes of finally building up the courage to ask you out? It’s not only creepy, it’s pathetic. It’s been nearly a month since he first met you. It’s taken him a whole month to get to this. Stupid. And since when does he get nervous like this around girls? He’s Max Verstappen.

But you’re you.

“You okay?” you ask, peering at him. “You’ve been a little quiet today.”

“Yeah, sorry. Um, I just—” He means to ask you, he really does, but this one tiny detail doesn’t escape his attention as you leave the flowers on the counter, wrapped in pretty ribbons, ready for him to take home. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “I—I haven’t paid yet.”

Your expression sends butterflies fluttering around his stomach. “Consider it a gift. For keeping me company on a slow day.”

But Max is already pulling out his wallet out of his back pocket. “No, no, I can pay.”

“Max,” you say, voice caught somewhere between soft and stern. “It’s a gift. You don’t pay for gifts.”

He scratches his cheek again, a quirk of his you’ve come to find endearing. “Doesn’t this get taken out of your paycheck?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “No one buys bougainvillea. One of my coworkers would’ve probably ended up throwing them away.”

You’re dodging his question, and Max doesn’t know how to tell you that he can afford it without making it seem like he doesn’t appreciate the gesture.

You seem to decide for him when you grab the bouquet and hand it to him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles, shooting sparks beneath his skin. He should ask you now. You’re smiling like you don’t even know the effect you have on him.

“Your—”

“Would you—” Max clears his throat, pink on his cheeks. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You laugh lightly, but it doesn’t sound as genuine. “Nothing—just that your girlfriend’s really lucky. I’d kill to have someone buy me as many flowers every week.”

“My—what?” Max blinks once. Twice. Three times before the words finally dislodge from his throat. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, your boyfriend?” you amend, playing with your fingers.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Max says bluntly. He’s still cradling his bougainvilleas as he watches realization wash over your face.

“Oh.” Heat is climbing up your cheeks, and for the first time all afternoon, you’re the one stumbling over your words. “O-Oh. I just thought that—I mean, since you’ve been coming around so much, and you’re like, handsome, and sweet, so I just assumed—”

“Do you wanna go out some time?” Max interrupts, ears tinted red. There’s a pretty blush spreading his face. A giddy nervousness building up in his gut. “With me, I mean. Do you want to go out with me?”

Your lips curl upward, heat radiating from your face. Max feels flowers growing in his chest. Hydrangeas, carnations, tulips, wisteria. Purple bougainvillea flowers.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

eve’s 1k celebration 🎧

this one was very loosely based on the song more on the vibes than the actual lyrics so i might revisit this song and make another more angstier drabble in the future….. for now i just recommend giving the song a listen <3 also i’m not used to writing for max AT ALL so hopefully it didn’t feel too ooc

[sansaorgana]

I’ve never understood why we shoot off fireworks in the USA for the 4th, I just feel like it could trigger some of our veterans and it makes me feel awful! Could you write something like this with Buck?

hello! 💖 in my country we only shoot them on new year's eve but since I own two cats, I hate them 😡 one of my cats is so terrified each time that he literally has spasms 😥 the older he gets, the more worried I am each new year's eve tbh 😐 anyway, thank you for your request! 🎆 I was actually thinking of something like this with Buck!

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

It was the first Independence Day after the war and you were excited that you would celebrate it with your husband for the first time in two years. Especially now, after the victory, it felt more special than ever.

You decided to throw a barbecue for your befriended neighbours and you had been preparing the house and the garden for the whole week – putting up decorations with Buck’s help and cleaning everything. In the last two days you had also been busy with cooking meals and preparing salads while Buck had been supplying your fridge with everything needed for the barbecue – all sorts of meat, vegetables and sodas.

The only thing you hadn’t bought were the fireworks. You wanted to save some money, especially after hearing that different neighbours down the street were preparing a real show anyway. Surprisingly, Buck had agreed to that pretty quickly although you had expected him to try to convince you to get your own fireworks. Not because he had ever been a big fan of them but he never liked it when you were using the “saving money” argument. Whenever you would use it in different situations – like deciding whether to buy a dress or not – he would say “if it makes you happy, we can afford that”. And he knew very well that this barbecue party was making you happy.

However, you didn’t ask about it because it didn’t seem to be significant enough and you completely forgot about it anyway, too busy with all the preparations.

The barbecue started in the afternoon and the weather was beautiful on that day – clear, blue skies above you, giving you a perfect view of the fireworks here and there in the distance. You were handing the bottles of beer and coke to the guests while Buck was in charge of the barbecue when one of the neighbours asked a question that made you freeze.

“Damn, it’s like back there again, is it not?” He chuckled at Buck.

His name was Frank and he had been to Europe as well but not as a pilot. He was obviously referring to the fireworks in the background as he tried to turn it into a joke but his wife Helen hissed at him.

You suddenly realised that the sound of fireworks was not the same to everyone and you looked at your husband, worried. He might have seemed to be pretty alright after the horrors he had endured but you knew him better than everyone else and you knew. You knew about his nightmares and panic attacks. They were rare but they still were happening, sometimes triggered by the things you had never thought of before as threatening. Like with the fireworks.

“I don’t pay attention to them,” Buck gave Frank a kind smile. “My brain just shuts the sound off at this point,” he explained and he seemed to be genuine in his answer, which made you sigh in relief.

You went back to handing out the sodas and glanced at the watch on your hand. It was half an hour until the fireworks show promised by the neighbours living down the street.

When everyone had a bottle of their chosen beverage already, you joined your husband’s side to help him with the meat and vegetables. Rubbing his arm softly and laughing at the jokes being told by the others, you felt happy and satisfied with your life. Finally, after such a long time, it was back to normal, you thought. Well, nearly.

Everyone was sitting by the table in your garden and talking when you realised you had forgotten to bring mustard and ketchup.

“I’ll get it,” Buck smiled at you and stood up.

“Grab me a can of coke from the fridge, too, darling,” you told him and he nodded before disappearing inside the house.

A short moment later, the fireworks show started. Your neighbours living down the street had to spend a real fortune on it because the fireworks were many and very, very loud. You gasped and watched in awe as others stood up and cheered.

You, Helen and Frank were the only ones left sitting by the table. From the corner of your eye, you spotted that Frank’s face changed. He was no longer smiling and his skin lost some of its colour. Helen was squeezing his shaky hands and whispering something to him.

A very loud firework made you flinch while others screamed out of joy and Frank jumped on his seat. You stood up rapidly, realising that Buck hadn’t come back from the house yet.

“Helen, listen,” you leaned in to talk to her despite the noise. “You can go inside with Frank, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“Thank you,” she mouthed out with gratitude in her eyes before urging him to stand up and follow her inside.

You, however, weren’t waiting for them because you were rushing to the house yourself. You froze at the sight of your husband sitting by the kitchen table and hiding his face in his shaky hands. In fact, his whole body trembled and there was a broken bottle of mustard in the middle of the floor. He had to drop it when the fireworks show started.

Your heart broke at the sight. Your Buck was the strongest and the bravest man you knew. You would always go to him when you needed comfort or help because he was so capable of making everything – everything – better. He was good at fixing things in the physical sense but he was also always comforting you with his kindness and calm nature. He would never panic about anything and you had always admired him for that.

In moments like this, you felt helpless because you couldn’t take his pain away. And if you could, you would. He had already suffered so much that from now on, you’d rather suffer for him. But you were also angry – angry at the war for taking place and breaking him so much.

“Darling…” You started slowly and crouched down in front of him, carefully, trying not to startle him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge your presence, though. “Darling…” You repeated and put your hands on his trembling thighs.

He flinched and you shushed him while tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re home,” you tried to soothe him. “You’re with me now, you’re safe,” you assured but it was not working.

You took a deep breath in and moved up now, to stand above him. You put your hands on Buck’s ears, trying to shield him away from the noise coming from the outside. And then, gently, you pulled his face closer to you and pressed it to your tummy. You leaned in to kiss the top of his head and whisper sweet nothings that were supposed to calm him down and after a while it seemed to be working. You could feel his muscles relaxing and eventually he stopped hiding his face in his hands and wrapped his arms around your waist instead, clinging to you like a little boy.

When the fireworks show stopped and it was quiet again, you moved your hands away from Buck’s ears and began to rub his back soothingly instead.

“It’s alright now, baby, you’re home with me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” you promised in a whisper, sniffing back your own tears.

Buck looked up at you with teary eyes and you cupped his face to wipe his tears off of his cheeks with your thumbs. You let your fingers trace his scars and your lower lip trembled. Not that you minded those scars – not at all – but they were yet another reminder of what horrors he had been through. And he was just a man – as weak and scared as everyone else; only forced to be brave.

You understood now why he was scared of having a son with you one day. He was scared of another war coming sooner or later and he was scared of his own child going through what he had gone through.

You feared that, too. And you didn’t even fully know what had happened in Europe. Only the men who had been there knew. Women – especially those who had stayed back home – they would never understand.

“Are you back with me now, my love?” You asked, gently. Buck nodded after a while of hesitation.

“Sorry ‘bout the mustard,” he mumbled out and you chuckled as you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter, darling,” you assured him.

But you were grateful that Buck’s panic attacks were like that. Perhaps it was wrong to be grateful for such things but you had heard enough stories of triggered men who would do much worse things while having panic attacks.

“I’m sorry…” He breathed out as fresh tears pricked his eyes.

“Don’t,” you interrupted him as you crouched down again and held his hands now to squeeze them tight. “Don’t, Gale, please, don’t ever apologise for that,” you pleaded and he looked down.

“I didn’t expect them to be so loud and so… Close. I… I suddenly wasn’t in our kitchen anymore but back in the air, up in the fort and the Germans were shooting at us and I was trying to focus on flying but deep down I was just… I was just praying to get back home to you and all I could see was your face when they tell you I’m dead and…” He started and you pursed your lips to stop your own tears from falling.

“I know, baby, I know. But it’s over now, yes? You’re back home with me, safe and sound,” you reminded him and leaned in to place a kiss upon one of his hands.

You heard footsteps behind you. It was Helen peeking inside shyly. You turned around to shake your head at her and she gave you an understanding look before walking out without a word.

“Let’s clean up now, yes?” You let go of Buck’s hands and fixed your hair before standing up clumsily.

You occupied yourself with cleaning the mess from the broken mustard bottle and Buck washed his face with cold water in the kitchen sink. You handed him some of the paper towels you were using so he could dry his face.

“You’ve missed the fireworks show because of me,” he pointed out.

“God damn those fireworks shows, Buck!” You exclaimed. “God damn them. I don’t want to see any ever again. I’m sorry that I didn't think that it would… That it would scare you like that,” you apologised.

“Well, it takes time to come to terms with the fact that your husband is a coward now,” Buck sighed and so did you, while throwing the used paper towels into the trash bin aggressively.

“My husband is not a coward and has never been. However, that self-pity attitude is new to me,” you told him and he turned his head around to look at you. “My husband is the bravest man I know,” you added. “He is my hero. And I don’t allow you to talk about him this way, you hear me? I have defended him from all the women in town telling me that men in the captive camps were no real heroes and I will defend him from you, too, when you’re so mean to him, Buck, I mean it.”

“Stop, or I’ll cry again,” he shook his head and sniffled.

There was a hint of a smile on his face and it made you grin as well before you approached him and wrapped your arms around him to hug him tight.

“I love my wife, too. The most in the whole wide world,” he assured you and hugged you back while pressing his lips to the top of your head but you could still understand his words. “I wasn’t brave, really, I wasn’t. I just did everything it took to come back to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — one

part one | part two | part three

summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited

“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”

“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.

“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.

“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”

“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.

“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”

“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”

“But?” MJ pressed.

“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”

“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”

“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”

“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.

“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.

“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”

“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.

“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”

“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.

“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.

“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.

“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.

The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.

"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."

“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.

"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.

"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."

“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”

Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.

“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”

“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”

“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.

“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.

“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.

“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.

“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”

The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.

Clink.

Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.

Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—

“Hello?”

She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.

“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.

“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”

“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.

“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.

“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.

“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.

“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.

“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”

“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.

“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.

“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.

“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”

“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.

“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”

Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.

“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”

“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.

“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”

'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.

Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.

"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.

"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.

"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."

"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.

"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.

"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.

"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."

"And—"

"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.

"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"

"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.

"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"

"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"

"What?" She furrowed her brows.

"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"

"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."

"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.

"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"

"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."

"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"

Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.

Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.

"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"

"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.

"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"

"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."

"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.

"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."

She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"

"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.

"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.

"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.

"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."

She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.

"You never got me that noose I asked for."

a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.

[hanggarae]

happy birthday jeonghan !

ONE TIME FOR THE BIRTHDAY BITCH 🗣️🔥 jeonghan x gn!reader fluff 0.9k words

“hannie just tell me what you want for your birthday” you whined on call for your boyfriend, getting louder when all he did was giggle instead of answering your question.

“baby you should be able to work out what i want on your own” jeonghan teased from the other line. “besides even if you can’t, i’d love anything you give me”

you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. jeonghan’s birthday was in less than a week and you still had no clue what to get him.

you could get him a lego set or more calico critters- but he somehow managed to have every set available.

“yn..” jeonghan said quietly over the phone, “if it makes you feel any better you’ll have an extra two weeks to shop anyway, we won’t be back until the 18th”

you pouted at his words. how the hell would that make you feel better? now you didn’t know what to get your boyfriend and you remembered you can’t see him for almost three weeks.

“no! i’ll have your gift by your actual birthday”

you heard jeonghan stifle a yawn and laugh, he and the rest of the guys were probably tired. you both said your goodbyes to each other and he promised to call tomorrow morning.

while you rested your head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling, you thought about what to get him again. shopping for him really wasn’t easy.

you unlocked your phone again, fingers automatically opening the notes page you had for brainstorming potential gift ideas.

“happy birthday!” the loud cheers from his members flooded jeonghan’s ears making him smile. it had just turned midnight and they were already at it.

truth be told he didn’t care about birthdays all that much- at least not it’s customs anyway. he didn’t really mind if people didn’t call him immediately at 12am to wish him a happy birthday, he didn’t care much about a cake or gifts- he just enjoyed that it gave him an excuse to feel loved by the people surrounding him without having to be shy about it.

so when you asked him what he wanted for his birthday, it’s not like he wasn’t answering you on purpose, it’s just that he genuinely didn’t know what he wanted from you, he just wanted you.

but he’d still have to wait three weeks for that. he was still in europe and you were halfway across the world from him, living in the shared apartment in seoul.

it would’ve been early morning for you, meaning you most likely weren’t up. so he didn’t bother checking his phone for a message from you.

meanwhile, you were arguing with one of the airport staffs about your lost luggage. it had jeonghan’s gift that you bought but weren’t sure about giving him because it was a little lackluster.

“you know what just leave it. it’s fine” you sighed out exasperated, deciding to just head to the hotel jeonghan was staying at instead.

you called for a taxi but somehow none were available. you checked on the gps app and it luckily wasn’t too far of a walk from the airport.

jeonghan usually slept late, so if you hurried you’d make it before he went to bed. the rain would be a problem though. you surveyed it for a few seconds before heading back to one of the airport shops, hoping to find an umbrella.

“stupid cheap airport umbrella” you muttered as the umbrella barely kept shape against the winds, leaving you mostly soaked despite your best efforts to get it to stick to its original shape.

your phone ringing caught you by surprise and you fished it out of your pocket but the rain had made your hand to slippery causing you to drop it, luckily it didn’t break but it left a crack meaning you’d have to replace your screen protector.

you answered the call, it was mingyu.

“i’m like ten minutes away, make sure he doesn’t go to bed!” you shouted over the rain. mingyu didn’t talk for long, telling you okay before he went to bother jeonghan again.

after a few more minutes, you were completely soaked, you cringed at how your wet clothes sticking to your figure and the sound your shoes would make every time you took a step.

you checked into the hotel, your room being on the same room as the guys’ so you could trade with whoever jeonghan was currently rooming with.

you checked mingyu’s text and made sure you were standing in front of the right room before knocking.

behind the door you could hear the guys all asking jeonghan to open the door because they all couldn’t be bothered, and you smiled at the tired sigh your boyfriend let out when he got closer to the door.

you opened your arms, ready to shout ‘happy birthday’ to your boyfriend only for him to interrupt you by saying “yn? what are you doing here? and why are you- get inside quick you’re gonna catch a cold!”

he beckoned everyone else out and into their own rooms then ran to his suitcase to get you one of his shirts. “quickly dry off then get changed and throw these to the laundry” jeonghan said hastily, already helping you get your long coat off.

you smiled at him, giggling when he looked at you confused. “happy birthday hannie” you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“thank you baby” he returned your kiss with one on your lips instead, “but seriously get under those blankets unless you want to spend my entire birthday sick”

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

thanks for you request!! I’m SO SO SO sorry it took me so long to complete, there has been so many edits and rewrites and start overs but anyways, here is the final product, I’m praying it doesn’t disappoint. my motivation has not been there lately… anyways I gave it a go, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: the hawthorne with the green eyes

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: your avery’s best friend and she’s suddenly been thrown into a world that isn’t her own and she needs you… but in going to support your best friend, you don’t expect a certain someone to take you interest

warnings: mild swearing and mentions of the reader having a dead father

a/n: this is set mid the first inheritance games book, timelines may clash a little but work with me please 😭😭

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

“I go on holiday for two weeks and of course that’s when everything blows up,” I exclaimed over the phone.

Avery was down the other end. I’d practically just stepped foot back in my house after fourteen glorious days in Europe and just about had time to fling my suitcase to the corner of my room before I straight away called her. How did I miss everything?! Pretty much as soon as the plane touched down back in America my phone practically blew up with messages and calls and news alerts. Suddenly my best friend’s face was all over TV and I had a billion DMs from people I’d never even talked to before.

“Timing is impeccable as always,” Avery laughed.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

Screw jet lag, this was way more important. We had the longest conversation I think I’ve ever had in my whole lifetime. She told me all about the will of this mysterious Tobias Hawthorne and the people involved. She explained how she’d been flown all the way out to Texas and was now required to live in Hawthorne house for at least a year where basically the whole family resided. Including four of Tobias’s scarily hood looking and intelligent grandsons.

“I can’t lie, this all sounds like it’s been plucked right out of a novel,” I said.

“42.6 billion dollars,” she confirmed, “what gets more fictional than that?”

“Ave this is crazy,” I replied, eyes as wide as saucepans.

“I can’t believe it,” she responded with a long sigh.

“You’re literally a billionaire,” I murmured. Saying it out loud made it even more real, even more shocking.

“I never thought I’d hear anyone say that out loud,” she said, then she sighed again,“I just can’t work out why I inherited it, I mean over his family it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well what did his grandsons have to say?” I asked.

“One thinks it’s a game of sorts, like a puzzle,” she explained, “their grandfather used to give them puzzles when they were younger and he thinks I’m the final one.”

“Are you okay?” I questioned suddenly, feeling guilty I hadn’t asked her right away,

“Yeah I’m fine,” she exhaled, “I’m a billionaire right?”

“No, I mean are you really okay?” I clarified, “because if it were me I know I wouldn’t be.”

“I think I’m okay,” she replied, hesitating a little.

“Avery,” I sang in an accusing tone.

She laughed a little and then, “I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” she sighed, “god I wish you were here.”

“Then I’ll come,” I blurted out, the instinct too prominent to ignore.

“What?” she gaped, as I pictured her with a hanging jaw.

“I’ll come to wherever you are, seen as you can’t come to me,” I replied, “that is if you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” she said, “but that’s a long trip for you and-“

“I don’t care about any of that,” I interrupted her before she went off on a selfless tangent, “seeing you is going to make whatever I have to do to get there worth it.”

“You’re an angel, a real life angel,” she whispered and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I laughed, “see you as soon as possible, I have a plane ticket to book.”

“Wait,” she told me suddenly, making me jump a little, “I’m paying.”

“Avery-“ I said, attempting to begin to decline.

“No, you can’t even decline because I’m a billionaire,” she snapped before I could even say no, “heck I could buy you the whole plane if I wanted.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” I pressed further.

“Let me buy the ticket, it’s the least I can do,” she said, “and I’m getting Oren to pick you up from the airport.”

My mind flicked back to her explanation, the name sounded familiar. It took a few minutes for it to finally come to me, “Isn’t that bodyguard?”

“He’s the only one I’d trust with your life,” Avery explained.

“God Ave, you make it sound like I’m going to get shot,” I attempted to joke.

“I really need to be cautious at the moment,” she said, warning in her voice, “this whole billionaire business is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh Avery,” I murmured sympathetically, “I’ll be there to hear every last drop in a few hours, okay?”

“Thank you,” she said, he tone thick with gratitude, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

***

Next thing I knew I was on a first class flight to Texas at three AM in the morning. I’d never flown first class before. It’s a shame I didn’t get really experience it, seen as I fell asleep for the entire flight, still exhausted from my previous travels. For the parts I was awake, it was beautiful and such a lovely smooth ride. When I’d finally made my way through passport control and grabbed my luggage I was in search of Oren. Avery had text me the number plate of the car ready to pick me up. Seemed she’d forgotten to mention it was a limo I was being picked up in. That information alone would’ve sorted me out just fine as there was only one limo at the pick up station. I walked up to the window and tapped on the blackout glass. It rolled down all of a sudden, making me jump. A man sat in the front, a flat serious expression on his face.

“Identification,” he said before I could even get a word out.

Identification? What the hell did that mean?

“y/n l/n,” I guessed, my name seeming like a viable option for a response.

“Physical identification,” he clarified.

“Can’t you see my face?” I asked, not really knowing what else he meant by physical identification.

“Do you want to get in this car?” he deadpanned.

Great! I’d gotten on the wrong side of Mr. Smiley now.

I wracked my brain for what he could mean by physical identification, “do you want my passport or something?”

“That’ll do,” he nodded sharply.

I fumbled around in my bag like an idiot until I find my passport. I handed it over as soon as I could.

He took it swiftly and analysed it for a good few minutes, “okay jump in.”

“Are you Oren?” I asked, swinging the back door open and putting my suitcase down by the seats.

“Most certainly,” he replied, as I slid in.

“Avery mentioned you,” I clarified, worried he might he starts speculating I’m an enemy imposter dressed up as Avery’s friend coming to commit a murder.

He gave me a thoughtful look as he began to pull out of the pick up station, “all good things I hope?

“Very good things,” I reassured him.

He smiled to himself, almost looking touched, “that’s nice to hear.”

We fell into an awkward silence. There was nothing more necessarily to be said but something hung in the air waiting to be said, but I don’t think either of us could work out what. Thankfully for me, it was Oren who broke the silence first.

“It is also nice Avery has a friend coming to stay with her but I hope you understand you won’t be able to have your normal coffee and catch up anymore, Avery’s life is so different now,” he said, his tone authoritative and serious.

“I know,” I nodded, “I understand how dangerous it all is. I’m just here to make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he replied, “you are a good friend.”

“This is the bare minimum,” I shrugged lightly, “and I know she’d do the same for me if ever I needed it.”

And that was true. She’d do anything for me in a heartbeat. Avery needed me right now, so that’s exactly where I’d be.

***

The rest of the car journey was relatively smooth. I conversed briefly some more with Oren, having the standard school and home life, getting to know me talk. I didn’t mind his company at all, he was a genuine man with a kind heart. I could tell as much from just that hour in the car. When we finally pulled up, sunrise is on the horizon. The house was a phenomenon.

I got out of the car and just stared up at it, my jaw dropped in pure shock. The exterior was huge and it looked like a castle crossed with a Manor House crossed with the worlds biggest mansion. Everything about it screamed prestigious. It reminded me of a historical palace I once toured when I was younger.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it,” Oren smiled, handing me my luggage.

“Oh thanks,” I nodded, “and yeah, woah. Avery owns the whole of this?”

“Every acre,” he nodded.

“Someone needs to pinch me, so I know I’m not dreaming,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

“It truly is,” Oren agreed.

I stared up at the building again and attempt to take in the grounds. It’s so vast I can’t even see all of it. It expands for what seems like forever. I was so lost in thought when my name was shouted that I nearly didn’t hear it altogether.

“Y/N!” shouted a voice. It could only be one voice.

“AVERY!” I screamed, whipping my head around.

I spotted my best friend and suddenly discarded all of my luggage, it somehow seeming irrelevant at this time. We sprinted towards one another as fast as possible and collided. I flung my arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as humanly possible, it’s a wonder I didn’t suffocate her. She did the same, holding me so close that I heard the uneven thumping of her heart in her chest. I inhaled the comforting scent of her perfume as I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling at home in her arms. I didn’t even realise I was crying until we pull away from each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she laughed, tears also rolling down her cheeks.

“You better believe it girl,” I smiled, “thanks for the plane ticket, first class is gorgeous.”

“Get used to it,” she told me, with a little wink.

“No, I’m not becoming a gold digger friend,” I shook my head, putting a palm out, “I refuse.”

“We’ll see,” she said, with a graceful shrug.

“Nope,” I shook my head stubbornly.

“Let me show you the house,” she said, veering the subject elsewhere.

“I know you said it was big but you didn’t mention it was this big,” I gaped, my eyes glued to the structure.

She smiled sheepishly, “big was a bit of an understatement on my part.”

“You think?” I laughed, still trying to drink up the details.

As we walked up to the doorstep I became aware of movement coming from behind us, I turned around to see Oren walking around two meters behind us. Quickly I whipped my head back around to Avery, to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Does he follow you everywhere?” I asked, dropping my voice low.

“Most places,” she shrugged in reply.

I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s not as creepy as it seems, trust me,” she said, “he’s very subtle.”

“Okay,” I replied unsurely, tempted to turn around again.

“Just don’t think about it,” she told me as we approached the door.

I tried to, but it was impossible not to be aware of someone tracking your every move. I began to wonder if I’d been microchipped with cameras and microphones yet. Avery grabbed the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open to reveal what looked like magic.

It seemed even larger on the window with its towering central staircase and large windows. The corridors seemed endless and so did the rooms within them. The floorboards were wooden and glossy, clearly expensive. The carpeted parts were velvet, they must’ve been. I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that everything was embroidered with some sort of gold laced trim. A large, intricately crafted chandelier hung roundly from the ceiling, glistening with crystals. It was mesmerisingly beautiful. And my best friend owned it all.

“Ave…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I know,” she nodded, beaming at me, “come in.”

“I feel like if I walk on the floors I’ll scratch them or something,” I scoffed.

“Don’t be stupid,” she grinned, yanking my arm so I practically fell in, “where should we go first?”

“Shouldn’t we pick up a map or something?” I joked, “is there a tour guide who can show us around?”

She giggled, “I’m your certified map and tour guide today.”

“Lucky me,” I winked, “where to first, oh noble one.”

“How about my room?” Avery suggested.

“Yes! I need a room tour!” I replied, excitedly.

“This way,” she said, grabbing my hand and cocking her head towards the large central staircase, that split into two.

***

I’d thought the house was beautiful but I couldn’t believe Avery’s room. Heavenly was an understatement. She had a queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room, that looked so comfy just staring at it made me sleep. She had a chest of drawers and matching vanity and a massive bookshelf that I was green with envy of. I noticed two bifold doors on one side of the room, which confused me.

“Open them,” she grinned, as if reading my mind.

Slowly I curl my hand aground the edge and pried the two doors apart. I almost fainted at the sight. A walk in wardrobe. Of course I’d seen them in the movies but never in real life, in someone’s house. It was such a massive wardrobe, it reminded me of that scene from Barbie, where her wardrobe seemed endless.

“No way!” I gaped at her.

“Way!” she winked.

There were of course other species of furniture, like shelves, a desk and chair, a beanbag, bedside tables, an armchair and so much more. Anything could ever want or need was in that room. Like the huge TV or the mini fridge. There was a small door on the other side, which I presumed lead to an en-suite, as I caught a glimpse of bathroom tiles inside as the door was slightly ajar.

“It’s definitely an upgrade from the car,” Avery exhaled.

I looked at her sadly. I’d offered her to live with us for a while so many times, but she declined each and every time. I thought it was because she didn’t want to be a burden. She never deserved the life she had, she deserved this now. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, all she’d worked for, she deserved this. And secretly I was glad a random dead billionaire left her in his will.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said quietly.

“What look?” I asked.

“The one where your eyes go all sad,” she murmured.

“My eyes go sad?” I said, almost laughing.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes, then sighed, “I wanted to live in my car okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, unconvinced.

No one wants to live in their car, it’s something you’re forced to do when your home is no longer liveable. But I didn’t press the matter, those days were long gone now. Now she had this. She pulled me down onto the mattress beside her. We laid down staring up at the ceiling, my head resting on hers. We didn’t say anything for a good while and the silence was comforting, it was nice. It allowed us to breathe a little.

“This house is full of secret passageways,” Avery murmured after a while.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope,” she grinned.

“This just gets more and more like a mystery movie by the second,” I replied, wide eyed.

“I know,” she said, “I’m finding it a little mental.”

“A little?” I scoffed.

She laughed lightly, airily. It was a pretty laugh but not a proper one, if I’d been looking at her face, I was sure that the smile wouldn’t have quite reached her eyes.

I say up and she followed suit, so I looked into her eyes and asked her, “are you really okay?”

There was a long pause. Hesitation. It told me everything already but still I waited for her to respond.

“No,” she sighed. It surprised me that she said that. Avery wasn’t one to admit she wasn’t okay very easily, not even to herself. So the fact that she was admitting that to me out loud spoke volumes. She was really not okay. I didn’t say anything right away and let her carry on.

“This is a lot,” she exhaled, “and I know it makes me sound so selfish. I have everything and anything I could ever want but it’s just so much to adjust to.”

“You don’t sound selfish, you sound human,” I reassured her. She needed to know that her feelings were normal, if I were in her position I know I’d be a mess. But she was here, holding it all together or trying to at least.

“I have a helicopter, a freaking helicopter and there’s all these interviews I have to do, functions I have to attend,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. I mean it’s so obvious I don’t fit in, I wasn’t born into all of this.”

She took a sharp breath in and I decided I needed to let her rant and get these things off of her chest.

“School is like a living hell, most people hate me,” she groaned, “private school is not for me, I’ve got no friends there and everyone seems to be either shooting me weird looks or whispering my name. And it shouldn’t affect me and I know it’s pathetically stupid but it really does.”

“Hey,” I soothed, rubbing up and down her arms, “kids are stupid and you know they’re just jealous. Besides you won’t be in school for that much longer anyway. One, two years with these people and then you never have to see them again. And you’ve only just joined recently, there’s time to make friends if you want to. And I’m only a call away, no matter where you are, what time it is, we have phones for a reason.”

“Yeah,” she blew out a breath, “yeah, okay.”

“You can carry on,” I told her, “just get the weight off of your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to complain, it feels wrong,” she sighed.

“Nu-uh,” I snapped wagging my finger, “you’re a human with feelings which means you have every right to complain so shoot girl.”

“Thank you, really,” she said, her big hazel eyes deep with gratitude.

“Stop thanking me for doing the bare minimum, this is like getting you a spoon from the cutlery drawer when you ask,” I said, “now tell me, what else?”

“My life is apparently constantly at risk, I mean I have bodyguard who is standing outside this door right now,” she replied, “I could be killed. Literally killed. And people want to do that to me and that’s so hard-“

Her voice broke and she struggled ro pull herself together, despite how hard she was trying. I instinctively enveloped my arms around her and pulled her tight to my chest

“I’m sorry Avery,” I murmured, “that’s awful, absolutely awful. But you have Oren and you know he’s going to take good care of you, you have whole teams of people preventing that from happening.”

She mumbled an indecipherable response and let a few tears slip.

“And these stupid people aren’t making things any easier for me. All of them are so…” she trailed off, “I can’t find the right word to describe them. Grayson thinks I’m some sort of threat and I’ve inherited this money because I’m a scheming, lying, manipulative snake. Xander seems to live to confuse me, constantly throwing out weird phrases that just throw me off. Nash, well Nash is just very laid back, he doesn’t seem to care about me or my role in the will which is good, but I don’t like the way he looks at Libby. And Jameson…” she hesitated, “Jameson thinks I’m just a game, one left by his grandfather. And the worst part is I dont even know what I’m here and I can’t figure it out.”

“Yet,” I replied.

She titled her head, confused, “What?”

“I can’t figure it out yet,” I explained.

“That’s patronising,” she said, “are you trying to take me back to first grade?”

“It might help you,” I shrugged.

“First grade?” she laughed.

“An open mindset,” I clarified.

She doesn’t reply.

“These grandsons for the most part seem a bit snobbish if you ask me, you shouldn’t pay too much attention to them,” I said, “they’re not worth you at all. You’re not a snake, you’re not stupid, your sister isn’t a prize and you’re not a game. You know this, in here,” I press my palm on the left side of her chest, “don’t let them make you forget it.”

She smiled through glossy eyes,“what would I do without you?”

“Have a mental breakdown in the shower alone and pretend it’s all okay,” I guessed.

“I did that yesterday,” she told me.

“Damn it I didn’t get here fast enough,” I joked, my heart breaking at the thought of Avery sobbing all alone.

She cracked a weak smile, “you got here, you are here, that’s all I care about.”

“Just take a second and breathe, okay?” I said.!

“Breathing,” she replied. I could hear she was breathing in and out in a rhythmic, calming motion.

“Good, keep going,” I nodded in encouragement.

We fell into silence again but like most of our silences, neither of us felt discomfort. I let her breathe, I let her think, I let her have the moment to herself I know she’d felt to selfish to take since she got here.

“Better?” I asked after a while.

“Better,” she nodded her head.

“You’re going to get through this, it just all seems a lot right now because you’re not used to it and it’s all come at once,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replied.

We wrapped our arms around each other, a warm hug acting as some sort of cocoon, excluding the outside world for mere moments. I breathed in her shampoo, the smell comforting. We stayed in each other’s arms for long time. We had both needed it.

“I’m really glad your here,” she whispered as we pull away.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I told her.

***

“I still can’t believe you live here now,” I exhaled, the side of my cheek pressed on her head.

We’d gone back to talking, catching up on each other’s lives for a bit. It seemed we just never could stop talking. And it felt good.

“I know, it’s crazy,” she admitted, “me and Lib have just about got used to it.”

“Libby’s here? Now?” I asked excitedly.

Avery nodded.

“Please can we go and see her?” I asked, “I haven’t seen her in so long.”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I’m just going to ignore the fact that you love my sister more than you love me.”

“It’ll probably make you feel better,” I shrugged, teasing her slightly.

“Hey!” she laughed, slapping my arm lightly.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed Avery’s company. She wasn’t just my best friend, she was part of me. Every time we were together I was just immediately elevated. I needed her.

“What? You said it,” I grinned, poking my tongue out.

“My best guess is that she’s baking in the kitchen, so we’ll look there first,” she explained.

“How comes she’s baking at nine in the morning?” I asked.

“She’s productive,” Avery shrugged.

I nodded as we exited her room. I followed Avery, presuming she would know where she was going. But after a labyrinth of corridors and a few smiling landmarks, I began to doubt her orienteering skill and decided we were lost.

“Ave I swear I’ve seen that suit of armour before,” I mentioned to her.

“There’s a suit of armour?” she asked.

“We’ve seen it like three times now,” I nodded, pointing to it.

She tilted her head and examined it, “we have not!”

“I’m telling you we definitely have,” I replied,

“You have walked past it four times actually,” a sudden voice said, making me jump out of my skin.

I turned around to see a boy coming up behind us. He was very tall, towering over both Avery and I. There was a bounce in his step and amusement in his voice, he was young, energetic and full of life. He had dark skin and a small grin planted on his lips. And there was a certain wistful sparkle in his eyes. I presumed he was one of the four grandsons, but I was trying to work out which one due to the descriptions Avery had given me.

“Have you been watching us?” Avery scoffed, arms folded,

“I just happened to notice you walking past four times,” the boy shrugged.

Avery narrowed her eyes at him, “why did you count?”

“I wanted to see how many tries it would take you until you realised you were lost,” he replied coolly.

“We’re not lost,” Avery insisted.

“Are you sure?” he chuckled, eyebrows raised.

“I call it non-purposeful wandering,” I piped up

He looked at me for the first time, his deep chocolate eyes meeting mine. His eyebrows now shuffled inwards and he tilted his head to the side, “I don’t recognise you.”

“I’m y/n,” I smiled, “I came to visit Avery.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded, “did you only just arrive?”

“It was about an hour ago,” I shrugged in reply.

“Did you fly all the way out here?” he asked me.

“From Connecticut to Texas,” I confirmed with a short nod of the head.

“Now tell me,” he said, looking very serious, “do robots interest you?”

I side glanced at Avery and she subtly signalled for me to carry on conversation.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” I said honestly.

“How have you lived your life without thinking about robots?” he gasped, looking somewhere between purely shocked and offended.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “should I start?”

“I’d strongly advise you to,” he said, “they’re most interesting.”

“Is that why you’ve got a singed eyebrow and oil on your sleeves?” I asked, not being able to suppress my mind’s curiosities.

“Observant,” he smiled.

“That’s what they say,” I replied awkwardly, knowing Avery would tease me about this later.

“Robots have a tendency to explode when you get them a bit wrong,” he explained, “if you can get past that, it’s great.”

“Explosions don’t really sound like my cup of tea,” I said, “but I suppose you never know until you try.”

“You have a good spirit,” he told me, “I think you would work well with robotics.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking it as a compliment to mask my confusion over the whole conversation. I took him as someone who you just rolled with, no matter what. So that’s what I was attempting to achieve.

“Blueberry or lemon?” he asked me.

“Blueberry, no matter the context,” I answered without missing a beat.

“I like you,” he nodded, “Avery can we keep her?”

“For the time being,” she grinned, “unless she starts biting.”

“Can’t make any promises,” I winked then turned back to the boy, “you know your way around this place right?”

“Most of it, though I still discover a new secret passage way every now and then,” he shrugged, as if it were the norm to find secret passageways around your house.

“Do you know how we get to the kitchen?” Avery asked.

“And you said you’re not lost,” he teased her.

“She’s testing you,” I said,

“Is it because you got stuck non-purposefully wandering on your way there,” he smiled, using my precious wording,

“Precisely,” I nodded.

“Okay then,” he replied, “to get the kitchen you just need to follow these suits of armour and when they stop take two rights and walk down your closest set of stairs. You should find it there, if I’m not mistaken.”

My jaw hung slack, “you memorised that?”

“Sort of, thought I usually end up stumbling upon the kitchen by accident through a secret passage way,” he shrugged, “it’s an important room to locate.”

“I guess,” I agreed

He nodded, “Safe travels.”

“We’re not trekking across a desert,” I laughed.

“No,” he smiled, “this is much worse.”

And with that he turned and walked in the opposite direction. We watched him until he exited the corridor and went off elsewhere.

“That’s Xander,” Avery filled me in.

“The one who’s addicted to scones?” I asked, the blueberry or lemon question finally making sense.

“Yes, that’s him,” she confirmed.

“Yeah that figures,” I nodded, “I like him.”

“He’s nice, I mean he doesn’t act like he wants to kill me all the time so that’s a plus,” she said.

“Oh yeah, when do I get to meet the angel of a man who keeps wishing you death?” I grinned.

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” she grimaced

We finally made it to the kitchen, after a few wrong turns and a game of eeny-meeny-miny-mo. I spotted Libby from the doorway. She was piping vibrant blue icing, almost the colour of her hair, into a pink sponge cupcake. I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tightly squeezing her closer. She let out a small gasp in surprise.

“Guess who?” I murmured excitedly.

“Is this real or does someone have to pinch me?” she asked, the smile in her voice.

“It’s real,” I assured her.

I let go of her and she spun around, cupping my face in her palms.

“Y/n!” she beamed widely at me, brining me in for a hug, “hi love, it’s been a while, huh?”

“Too much of a while if you ask me,” I mumbled into her.

“Glad to see you again,” she smiled as we break apart. The unspoken ‘make sure my sister is okay’ running through her eyes.

“Me too,” I replied, silently reassuring her of the reason I was here.

“I’m starting to think you prefer my sister to me,” Avery scoffed, scooping a little buttercream onto her finger tip and popping it into her mouth

“Sometimes I do,” I replied mischievously.

“Hey,” she complained.

I stuck out my tongue in reply.

“Ooo please taste this,” Libby said, quickly grabbing a couple of cupcakes and handing one to both me and Avery.

“Well it’d be rude not to,” I grinned, taking one gratefully.

“It would,” she agreed as Avery broke the half of the bottom off of her cupcake and put it into of the icing to make her little cupcake sandwich.

I stared at her in disapproval, “you are a monster for doing that.”

“You’re just bitter because it’s the smartest way to eat a cupcake,” she replied.

“When you eat a cupcake you shouldn’t be analysing how you eat it you should just eat it how it is,” I exclaimed passionately. We’d had this fight many of times and I would never stop backing my corner.

“I don’t want icing smeared up my nose,” Avery defended, “and this is the best way to prevent that.”

I shook my head and took a bite of my cupcake, like a normal person. The flavours tantalised my tastebuds, teasing them to crave more. The cake itself was airy and light, not too dry but not too moist. It was the perfect cake to icing ratio and nothing was over sweet or too artificial. It was like heaven on my tongue. I’d really missed these.

“So…” Libby asked, nervously, “what do you think?”

“How do you do it?” I replied, taking another bite.

“Good?”

“That’s an understatement,” I told her, “is there fairy dust in this or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” a new person entered, cutting off whatever Libby’s reply was. His accent was definitely Texan and I looked up to my surprise to find an older looking man. Well not old at all, just older than me. I presumed he was in his twenties. He wore a cowboy hat, titled slightly to one side and from under it I noticed his brownish-blondish hair. He had hazel eyes and a sharp jawline but what stood out to me was his nose. He had a similar nose to Xander which gave him away to being another grandson, but which one?

“What are you doing here?” Libby asked, annoyance in her tone.

It surprised me. I had never heard Libby talk to anyone with any remotely negative connotation. I widened my eyes and looked to Avery who only shrugged in response.

“Coming to check up on you and your crazy cupcake baking obsession,” he explained, walking further into the room.

“I don’t need checking up on,” she grumbled, turning back to her piping bag.

“Oh I know that darlin’,” he smiled. It was the kind of smile that you don’t see often, the kind of smile that shows everyone else in that room that the person who is being smiled at is the other person’s whole world.

No one had ever smiled at me like that.

I scooted closer to Avery and whispered, “Are they…”

“I don’t know, I’m 99% sure but it’s not official,” she explained quickly.

“Oh okay,” I nodded.

We watched as they bickered, back and forth for a little bit, unsuppressed smiles on both of their faces. They meant something to one another, even if they didn’t know it yet. They continued to argue until the cowboy noticed my presence.

“Who’s the new one?” he asked, nodding at me

“New one? She has a name,” Libby said sharply.

“I’m y/n. Avery’s friend and Libby’s practically adopted little sister, nice to meet you,” I introduced myself.

“Am I even relevant anymore?” Avery sighed.

“Nope,” me and Libby grinned simultaneously.

“Nash,” he nodded, shaking my hand, “nice to meet you too.”

“We’re going to get going now,” Avery said, “I haven’t shown her the bowling alley yet.”

My eyes widened, “bowling alley?”

“Catch you guys later,” she grinned, pulling me out of the kitchen.

“You have a bowling alley in your house,” I said, still in shock, “why didn’t you tell me already?”

“When’s the best time to bring up the fact you have a bowling alley, I mean it’s not exactly normal conversation,” she told me.

“Okay fair enough,” I responded, as we start walking again, “so are we meeting everyone like it’s a parody of sorts?”

“Seems like it,” she sighed,

“Tour of the hottie Hawthorne’s,” I joked, spreading my arms out to reveal an invisible sign.

She giggled, “hottie?”

“Oh please, you can’t deny it, they’re all gorgeous so far,” I said.

She looked around cautiously, “they could be listening you know?”

“Oh well I’m sure they know,” I scoffed, “besides you’re telling me that you don’t find at least one of them attractive?”

“Moving on,” she said quickly, brushing over the subject, with pink-tinged cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” I asked her.

“No,“ she replied bluntly, “shut up.”

“You’re blushing,” I sang, “which one is it? Oh please tell me Ave!”

“None of them,” she insisted, digging her heals in.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

She replied, “that’s because you have trust issues.”

“No it’s because I know you’re lying,” I told her.

She didn’t reply.

“You better tell me fast because I will attempt to make a move on one of them at some point,” I warned her, “Nash is already out of the question because he’s Libby’s, so which ones yours? I’ll pick between the other two.”

She laughed. It was the first time since we’d met up that I’d seen her properly crack a smile, her eyes fully lighting up, “pick whoever you want, no one’s mine.”

“You might regret saying that later on,” I warned her.

“Doubt it,” she shrugged, “just be careful, okay? These people, this family… just be careful.”

“I will, promise,” I nodded, “so who’s on stage next in ‘let’s meet the Hawthorne brothers’.”

“It’s a surprise,” Avery said,

I smiled, “oooo how intriguing!”

We turned the corner and I noticed someone approaching. Avery did too, as I noticed her breathing sped up a little.

“Speak of the devil and I mean the literal devil, here comes another,” she muttered.

Approaching us was a blonde. Like his brothers, he was tall, but not as tall. He was dressed in what looked to be a highly expensive suit and matching designer shoes. His face was serious and unemotional, like it was paralysed in a state of seriousness.

“Woah, hello jawline,” I mumbled, after catching a glimpse.

“Wait until he looks you in the eyes,” Avery murmured.

“Oh god he walks really fast,” I said quietly, as he approached closer and closer.

She grinned at me, “rich boy leg strides.”

I tried to smile but fail, “Why is my heart beating so fast?”

“He has that effect of people,” she shrugged, “intimidation.”

“Why does he look like he wants to kill me,” I said under my breath when he was about two meters away.

“That’s just his face,” she reassured me.

I began to ask another question, “Are-“

“Shut up,” Avery hissed and I understood why. The blonde had stopped infront of us and he was staring me up and down, as if he were scanning for some sort of hidden weapon I had.

“Who’s this?” Goldilocks snapped, his voice clearly portraying his dominance.

“A friend,” Avery replied curtly.

“A potential threat,” he said sharply.

Why did everyone in this place think I was some sort of axe-murderer. Was it common in Texas or something?

“She’s none of your business,” Avery grits through her teeth.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied walking away.

He hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, though I couldn’t work out if it was because he felt I was too below him or he just didn’t feel a need to. Whatever it was, it was clear that there was a tension between those two, but I decided not to bring it up yet.

“What’s he going to do? Research me?” I scoffed.

Avery shrugged as we continue walking, “probably.”

“You’re kidding!” I laughed.

“I wish I was,” she said, wiping the smile off of my face.

“So I take it he’s the one that hates you for breathing?” I clarified, mentally ticking him off of my list of what Hawthorne’s I had met and what ones I hadn’t.

“Yep,” she nodded, “that was Grayson.”

“Yeesh, his jawline looked dangerously sharp,” I winced.

“Better not get on the wrong side of it,” she winked.

“I think I already am,” I blew out a breath, “I mean if looks could kill…”

“Oh we’d both be long gone,” Avery giggled.

“I get the eye thing now,” I groaned rubbing my eyes, “god, ouch, it burns.”

“Doesn’t the piercing grey just give you a headache?” she asked.

“It really does, have you got aspirin?” I said.

She shrugged, “somewhere in the maze of a house.”

“Was he wearing a designer suit?” I was dying to ask.

“Always,” she nodded.

“You’re kidding, all the time?” I gaped.

She sighed, “All the time.”

***

We spent the rest of the day in various different places. I adored the library and the dance studio as well as the karaoke bar and swimming pool. These people had everything. But something was playing on my mind. I’d met three of the four Hawthornes, which meant there was still one to go. I hadn’t seen the other all day, but I had stumbled across his brothers another few times. I found it odd. Avery only shrugged when I asked her about it and presumed he was drunk somewhere. Avery and I had also convinced ourselves Grayson had a murder club, consisting only of himself, and we were the first on his hit-list. We figured if we went, we’d go together so it’d be alright.

Somehow, after touring not even a quarter of the house, we ended up back on her bed again, me catching her up on old school drama. I’d forgotten that she’d missed the break up of the century with an added cheating scandal from the girl with the guy’s brother.

“Hey I just need to run and find Libby a minute, I’ll be back,” she’d told me, after she’d received a text in her phone.

“Everything okay?” I checked.

“Fine,” she nodded once, “I’ll be back soon.”

But soon didn’t feel that soon. It was a little awkward sat in someone else’s bedroom without them. I didn’t know what to do with myself. After a while, I decided I should look for Avery. I opened the door and smacked into someone and almost toppled over.

“You should really watch you’re going, heiress,” the person said.

“Maybe you should too,” I scowled, looking up to meet a pair of alluring green eyes.

“You’re not Avery,” he replied, looking very confused.

“Gee, you’re observant,” I rolled my eyes, then suddenly felt a pang of guilt, “sorry, I tend to overreact when I’m pissed off.”

“A quality we share,” he grinned slightly.

“I wouldn’t call it a quality,” I said.

I stared at him properly, he was tall with dark, unruly hair. He had a similar bone structure than his brothers but his face was softer than Grayson’s, his features warmer.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he smiled, a witty, mischievous smile, “Jameson Hawthorne.”

He extended a hand towards me and I took swiftly it. His grip was hard, strong I noted. Jameson, the brother I was yet to meet. And dare I say it, he was the best looking by far.

“So who are you?” he asked.

“I’m y/n,” I said, “I’m a friend of Avery’s, I’ve come to stay with her.”

“That’s nice of you,” he commented, a little awkwardly.

“It’s the least I can do,” I replied quietly.

He doesn’t say anything back but I don’t want him to. It was hard enough focusing on conversation when he was looking at me. He was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. His whole face with was the picture of perfection. Symmetrical, but not harshly, it was more of a mellow, kind symmetry, that enhanced all of his features. His soft looking lips, his nice shaped nose and his eyes. God those eyes. They were a rich green like nature, glistening with intelligent thoughts.

“Well I suppose I’ll see you around then,” he said, pocketing his hands.

“I suppose you will,” I replied.

He walked away slowly and I realised that evening that my stomach fluttered whenever I thought about the Hawthorne with the green eyes.

***

That night I found it so hard to sleep. Avery was out in a mere few minutes but I couldn’t even shut my eyes. Tossing and turning and tossing and turning until I got so bored that I just slipped out of bed all together. I pulled a pair of socks on and left Avery’s room, beginning to wonder the dark hallway. I didn’t really think any of it through. Wandering in the dark, alone, in a house I didn’t know, surrounded by people I didn’t know.

“Midnight wandering are we?”

His voice made me jump but I didn’t let him see that. I turned around to see Jameson Hawthorne stood behind me. How long had he been there then? He looked so poised, so ready, like a big cat on the prowl. He needed to know I wasn’t his prey.

“Maybe,” I replied, a smile adorning my lips, “but even if I am I don’t know why that’s any of your concern.”

“Maybe I’m not concerned, just curious,” he said, “are you lost?”

“No,” I lied to myself and the world.

He waited a few beats.

“Maybe a little,” I smiled shyly, “this place is even harder the navigate in the dark.”

“Lucky for you I know it like the back of my hand,” he did, extending his hand towards me.

I stared at it, “do you want me to hold it or something?”

“No,” he shrugged, “I mean if you want to-“

“No,” I blurted out quickly, “not at all.”

He dropped his hand, a shadow of an expression I couldn’t read shifting across his face.

“Follow me then,” he said, shooting me a lopsided grin that I somehow manage to make out in the dark.

I walked beside him. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and slightly baggy pyjama pants. My cheeked heated up as I suddenly became horribly aware that I was dressed in my pyjama top reading ‘I need coffee’ and shorts decorated with cartoon coffee cups. I hoped Jameson wasn’t paying that much attention to me.

“So why are you awake?” he asked casually.

“I can’t sleep,” I replied bluntly. There wasn’t much more to it.

“Straight forward as that?” he said.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged, “why are you awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replied, with a small smile.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“Am I stealing your thunder?” he played along.

“Very much so,” I said, folding my arms across my chest, with a pointed stare laced with banter.

“My deepest apologies,” he exaggerated.

“Not accepted!” I exclaimed.

He grinned, then shoved his hands in his pockets, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Where would you like to take me?” I countered.

“I respect people who answer questions with questions,” he noted.

“Good because I do it far too often,” I told him.

“We’re going to the games room,” he announced.

“Why?” I questioned, like a whiny child.

“Because it is where I’d like to take you,” he shrugged delicately, before picking up the pace with longer leg strides.

I struggled to keep up as I asked, “this isn’t going to be like one of those sadistic murders where you cook me alive and blame it on someone else is it?”

“How did you figure out my master plan?” he teased, with a joking expression.

“I guess you’re just too predictable,” I replied, with a laugh.

“So you watch true crime then?” Jameson said.

From that comment I gathered he was an analyser. Just like me. He analysed conversation and made educated assumptions about people. But what split us apart was that he had the courage to say it to there faces, I kept all my observations in my head. I didn’t care if they were unconfirmed. But Jameson did.

“I listen to a podcast now and then, not a fanatic or anything like that,” I replied.

“Should we play a game?” he said to me, changing the subject suddenly.

“I thought we were going to a games room?” I said.

He thought for a moment and then responded, “a pre-game game.”

“I’ve heard you and your family are quite fond of those,” I said.

“Oh really?” he joked, quirking a brow.

“Yes really,” I grinned back.

“I see,” he pondered “and do you like games?”

“Depends,” I replied.

“On…” he prompted.

“What I’m playing,” I told him, “who I’m playing it with and why I’m playing it.”

“Interesting,” he hummed, opting thoughtful tone, “the man who makes it doesn’t want it, the man who buys it doesn’t need it and the man who needs it doesn’t know it yet.”

“Is that a riddle?” I almost laughed. It was so out of the blue, so sudden asking me a riddle in the middle of a conversation.

“Is my last name Hawthorne?” he countered with a smirk.

“A coffin,” I answered briskly. It wasn’t difficult to work out.

His eyebrows flew to his forehead, “that was fast.”

“Your riddle was maudlin and far too simple,” I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow, “too easy? Okay, let’s try another and see if you’re as cocky.”

“Not cocky, just honest,” I replied.

He paused for a moment, thinking, “how can you physically stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?”

“My father is dead,” I said. It was true. I don’t know he I suddenly felt the need to blurt it out. It just happened.

“Oh-“

“But we’d have to be standing back to back,” I replied quietly, “that’s the answer to your riddle.”

“Correct again,” he nodded, then hesitated, “and I’m sorry about your dad,”

“Oh it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” I shrugged lightly, “I was young when it happened.”

I didn’t remember much, just being told I wouldn’t see him ever again. I had asked why and they had said he was going to stay in the stars now. And when I asked them if he’d ever come and visit, they told me couldn’t. So I cried. During the most part of my childhood I despised the stars, I’d stare up at them with a tear streaked face and curse them for stealing my dad. When I got older I realised the only thief was death and that the stars were nothing but a metaphor to hold a memory.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

I shoot him a small smiled, letting him know I’m okay and that we can move on. He read my expression well and together we carry on. After a little while he stopped in his tracks outside a set of doors. I almost crashed into the back of him as he paused to abruptly. He swung both doors open at the same time, having a little ‘Elsa’ moment in let it go, as he walked through with his held high. I quickly followed, trying not to gape at the extraordinary components of the room.

There was a pool or was it a snooker table, there was air hockey, ping pong, table football, everything you could ever imagine. There was also a regular coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking chairs and a sofa. But what caught my eye the most was the games cabinet. It was a sight to behold. It covered an entire wall and reached all the way up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on the side that looked like it could slide across, like a book ladder. Within the cabinet laid dozens upon dozens of board games and other games alike were piled atop of each other, like books in an old crooked bookshop, all slanted and uneven in the most perfect of ways. There must’ve been thousands of games here. Jameson caught me staring.

“Ever played chess?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t live under a rock you know,” I deadpanned.

He cracked a smile, “good.”

He jumped on the ladder and swiftly pulled out one of the several chessboards from the shelf and placed it down on the little coffee table. I followed him there and we both sat down. He then began to set it up and I was quick to help out the pieces in place.

“How good are you?” he asked.

“Why? You scared?” I teased, attempting to psych him out before the game even started.

“Only curious,” he said, cool as a cucumber.

“I can’t say,” I shrugged, “how can I judge my own ability fairly, I’m biased.”

“I suppose,” he replied, “but you would know if you’re alright at it.”

“I’ve won before,” I said. Actually I’d won quite a lot before, many many times. I wasn’t exactly lying, just being vague to work in my favour.

The board is set up, “what colour?”

“You choose,” I told him.

He shifted the board so the black chess pieces are on his side. Secretly my preference was the white anyway. I did a quick analysis of the board and sketch out a rough game plan in my head. I didn’t spend to long thinking, this game could go anyway and I didn’t want to be thrown off, but knowing what you sort of want to do was a start. Definitely the first few moves anyway.

“You start,” he urged.

“Such a gentleman,” I joked.

“I can’t help it,” Jameson winked in response.

I picked up a pawn between my middle finger a thumb, surprised at how smooth the finish was. This was an expensive chess set. I went with my classic start move of two spaces forwards into the centre. He grinned and mirrored the move on his turn.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“I would apologise but you still haven’t forgiven me from earlier,” he shrugged in reply.

“And I probably never will,” I grinned.

“Is this the beginning of some Shakespearean vendetta?” he scoffed, with a playful undertone.

“It might be, we’ll have to see,” I shrugged, “I haven’t decided whether it’s a comedy or tragedy yet.”

“Pick comedy, I don’t want to die at the end,” he said.

“We’re all going to die at the end,” I told him.

He replied, “not what I meant.”

“I know,” I smiled.

“You’re getting in my head,” he observed, realising my tactic.

“Am I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“Yes you’re distracting me from the game,” he said sharply.

“Oh I hadn’t even realised!” I exclaim, doe eyed and innocent.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “your move.”

“Right,” I nodded.

We didn’t have much conversation after that. Actually the only conversation consisted of ‘your turn’ or ‘thanks’. Other than that only the sound of chess pieces being slid about the board could be heard as well as the dull silence that seemed like the loudest sound of them all.

Jameson had a lot of my pieces, the ones I didn’t need in my opinion. I let him have them, I want him to think I don’t know how to defend my pieces.

go on… my mind smiles, please. underestimate me.

I was deceptive and wanted him to underestimate me so I could surprise him, catch him off guard and steal the game from right under his annoyingly perfect nose. But Jameson Hawthorne wasn’t a big of a fool as I thought him to be. The few times I’d been forced to pull out critical moves, he noted them. He began to realise my talent for the game about half way through. He too was a talented player. His moves were swift but calculated, he was going to be a hard opponent to beat.

Move after move. Minute after minute. It was getting intense. Every move was critical, every second in between play was agonising. I found myself constantly self-consciously chewing on my bottom lip, captivated in my concentrated state.

He made his move and suddenly I realised what I can do. I could take a risk and bargain on what his next move was to trick him, but the tactic would only work if he moved the piece I needed him to move, otherwise it was checkmate for me. I sat there, weighing up my options. There was a chance he’d work it out and beat me, but there was also a chance he wouldn’t and I’d beat him. My eyes darted from left to right and back again until I impulsively took the chance. Praying my efforts had paid off, I watch his painstakingly slow next move. He shifted his knight diagonally by two. I wanted to stand up and scream in joy. I had him trapped. Brilliant. My calculated risk had actually worked. I kept a poker face as I realised he’d not yet noticed that I was a venus flytrap and he had crawled blindly towards me.

“Checkmate,” I smiled, leaning back.

His eyes were wide with surprise as his eyebrows shot up to his forehead. The reaction was so real, he didn’t have time to hide it. His jaw wanted to hang down but he was stopping it, I could see the clenched muscles.

“What?” I asked “didn’t plan on being beaten?”

“I was going easy on you,” he gritted through his teeth.

I grinned widely. So losing was a sore spot for Me Hawthorne. Interesting.

“That would explain why you look so shocked that I won,” I said with a sweet victorious smile.

“Fine, rematch but this time we play Hawthorne chess,” he replied, as if it were a deadly game.

“Hawthorne chess?” I raised my eyebrows.

He only smirked in reply.

***

He explained the rules. It was a lot like regular chess but there were six boards to play over and a few added rules that confused me. It wasn’t long before Jameson had me cornered.

“Checkmate,” he grinned, nicking my king.

“I was going easy on you,” I teased, mocking his earlier comment.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, looking very unamused.

“Is your ego mended now you have a win?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“Shame,” I pouted.

“Another match?” he suggested.

I shook my head then rubbed my temples, “I can feel a headache coming on. It’s probably from my lack of sleep.”

“Do you want me to walk you to bed?” he offered.

I shook my head again, “I’m not tired. My head just hurts.”

“I know something that might help,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Fancy taking a trip the kitchen?”

“This is feeling very serial killer-y again.”

“I only snap into serial killer-y mode every third Wednesday,” he joked.

“Well now I know I’m safe!” I grinned back at him

***

We walked to the kitchen together and I noted it was a completely different route to the one I’d taken with Xander’s instructions this morning with Avery.

Once we got there Jameson leaned against the counter and asked me, “do you like hot chocolate?”

I nodded.

“Or would you prefer a coffee?”

His eyes were pinned to my pyjama set as he said it. I self-consciously looked down and blush a deep shade of scarlet, remembering the deign, as he snickered.

“Very witty,” I rolled my eyes sarcastically, “hot chocolate is fine.”

He fumbled around for a saucepan in the endless row of cupboards. I didn’t know how he knew which one to search in, they were all identical. He put it onto the hob and added some milk.

“Our cook goes home after serving dinner so I’ve gotten pretty good at midnight concoctions,” he explained.

“The way you say that makes me a little nervous there,” I told him.

“Maybe you should be,” he flashed a smile.

He put the hon on to heat up the milk and grabbed the instant hot chocolate powder, whipped cream, mini marshmallows and sprinkles.

“Are you five years old?” I laughed.

“Mentally,” he nodded, “is that an issue?”

“Not at all,” I said , “I’m with you there.”

“Nice to know I have a fellow person who had the metal capacity of five year old too,” he beamed, “our conversations will be incredible.”

“We’re having a conversation right now,” I stuck my tongue out, childishly.

“I’m describing the ones in the future,” he rolled his eyes, before returning my tongue gesture by poking out his own.

I smiled to myself as I watched him silently. Even at this time at night - or was it morning by now - he looked good. I wished I could see him like this every night and not feel like I was stealing glances at him.

“So what about you?” Jameson asked suddenly.

“What about me?” I chuckled.

“Well I don’t know much about you,” he clarified.

“You know my name,” I shrugged, searching for more information about myself, “I’m seventeen, Avery is my best friend, my dad’s dead, I like hot chocolate but I also like coffee, I find the rain relaxing, I used to play chess a lot, I like to read novels, I don’t like sleeping but I do all at the same time… now what about you?”

“What about me?” he tilted his head to the side, copying what is aid moments ago

“I gave you my information now you give me yours.”

“Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, I’m eighteen,” he began, “my best friends are my brothers, I don’t know my dad at all, my grandfather liked to give me games, I like hot chocolate and coffee, I prefer the snow to the rain, I have played chess since I could talk, I like to read too and I love sleeping but I don’t do enough of it.”

He’s countered all off my points and mirrored them with his own. It was interesting to compare us. We were similar but so different. I was about to reply but he cut me off.

“Woah!”

“What?” I asked.

“The milk!” He yelled, worry outlining his features.

I spun around to see the saucepan emitting in a thick blanket of steam.

“Why is it smoking? Can milk even smoke?” he shouted.

“It’s steam!” I rolled my eyes.

“Can milk even steam then?” he quipped.

“It’s a boiling liquid of course it can steam!” I exclaimed, for someone so smart, I did wonder how he was acting so stupidly.

“What do I do?” he panicked, the stress evident.

“Take it off the heat!” I cried out. I’d thought that was logical but no. Apparently it was not.

“Oh shit, yeah,” he said, almost laughing

He took the pan off of the heat and the steam began to die down. We made eye contact and started laughing like mad people, until our lungs couldn’t take it anymore and we had to get our breaths back, our bellies aching. We just seemed to fit, me and him. It was like we were the two missing pieces of a jigsaw that have been lost between the sofa cushions for years and now we’d finally been found and put together to complete the puzzle.

The milk turned out pretty much okay and we prepared the drinks a lot easier than we’d heated them. Jameson added every topping going excessively, which made me shake my head and laugh. When we were both done I took a sip, the warm liquid seeping through my body to the tips of my toes, making me feel a little less cold. It was delicious.

“Verdict boss?”

“S’alright,” I shrugged, “I’m kidding, it’s really lovely actually.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “maybe I should smoke my the milk more often.”

I laughed, “you didn’t smoke the milk, it just got a bit steamy.”

“Steamy,” he wiggled his eyebrows

“You really do have the brain of a five year old,” I sighed inwardly.

“Hey! I thought we already established that and moved on,” he said.

“I felt like we needed the conversation to resurface but we’ll put it to bed,” I sighed, then with a mischievous look on my face added, “for now.”

He grinned at me, taking another swig of his hot chocolate, this time getting whipped cream on his nose. I subtly rubbed my nose, hoping he’d mirror my body language or take the hint. He did. Silence hit us like a bus would hit an animal running across the road in the dead of night. Quickly. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but nor was it comfortable. It just was. The only sound was the occasional sip of our hot chocolates.

After a while, I became aware that he was looking at me, actually it was more like staring. It was an analytical look in his eyes, like I was some sort of science experiment rather than a person.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying not to squirm as he held his gaze.

“You’re a lot like Avery you know,” he replied thoughtfully.

The comment caught me off guard and I couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t exactly an insult but it hit me like one. Why was Avery on his mind? And why was she on his mind whilst he was looking at me?

“Our brains work in similar ways,” I hummed, “I think that’s why we’re so close.”

“I noticed that,” he nodded, “but I also noticed you’re quite different at the very same time.”

The same and different? Being cryptic, I’ve decided, is a Hawthorne personality trait.

“How so?” I said.

“There’s something about you that is…” he paused to find the right word, “bolder.”

Bold? Really? That was one of last words I would have described myself with.

“You’ve only known me for a day,” I scoffed, “and you haven’t exactly known Avery for that long either.”

“I know,” he replied, “but you’ll find I’m very observant.”

It was only then I noticed his smile. It was the same smile Nash had on his face when he looked a Libby. And I hated to admit it but he look beautiful. His eyes illuminated, sparkling, bright. He looked genuinely happy. It made my heart melt a little, I wanted to see that smile every day. There was only major problem. I didn’t know if he was smiling at the thought of me or the thought of Avery. He could have easily be thinking about either of us and I didn’t want to get the wrong idea.

“You think Avery’s some sort of riddle,” I stated, trying not to let the bitterness seep through my tone.

“And you don’t like that?” he observed, an eyebrow raised.

“Any person who values another as just another game doesn’t get my greatest sympathies, no,” I told him blatantly.

“And what if she is?” he challenged, defensive.

“Is that all she is to you? Just a game?” I asked, getting angrier by the second, “what happens when the game ends Hawthorne, ask yourself that.”

“Then the game ends,” he shrugged, nonchalant as ever, “there’s not much more to say.”

“So she becomes nothing if not a tool for your own wants and needs?” I asked, stating it as bluntly as a pencil that barely writes.

“I didn’t say that,” Jameson insisted, a mixture of feelings betraying the usual mask he hid behind.

“You’re implying it,” I hissed, my eyes overcast, darkened.

He didn’t deny it and that gave me the only answer I needed.

“Now I don’t know you very well, but from what I have to go off of, I didn’t pin you as someone who was selfish,” I told him, raw passion in my voice, “a little bit cocky and far too brave, sure, but not selfish,” I snapped, my tone sharper, “but you’re acting like it and it’s not fair.”

He didn’t reply. Instead he morphed into some sort of stone statue, unmoving, unemotional, unwavering. I felt like a mother scolding her reluctant child.

“And did you even consider how hard this has been for her?” I questioned him, “coming here, to this labyrinth of a house, her life now dictated by a will, forever changed. She’ll never be able to walk the streets again like a normal person without paparazzi bombarding her. She’s just about adjusting to living here, one of your brothers seems like he wants to kill her, you treat her as if she’s a game and she’s being bombarded by the media, I mean the poor girl doesn’t even know why she’s here. She didn’t ask for this and I don’t want her to have to put up with your ‘I’m a Hawthorne so I’m going to use you because I’m entitled’ shit.”

Again, I got no response. For someone so witty and poetic with his words it was odd that now he chose to be silent. He stood still and said nothing. I wanted to shake him until he made a sound but instead I chose to be diplomatic, I chose to carry on.

“You can’t think of her like that, it’s not fair. Not for her or for yourself,” I said, “if you go by your whole life thinking everyone and everything is a game you’re going to lose people, fast.”

“You sound experienced,” he finally said, not replying to a word of my rant just picking out who he thought I was.

“Yeah well maybe I am,” I laughed bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t realise what it might feel like from her perspective of things. I’m used to being in my grandfather’s world, a world full of games and tricks and puzzles.”

“People aren’t puzzles,” I snapped.

“I disagree with you there,” he said, “people shouldn’t be treated like puzzles but every person is a puzzle.”

“Am I a puzzle to you Jameson?” I challenged, taking a step towards him.

“You’re one of the most intriguing ones yet,” he whispered, moving closer to me.

“Funny, I think I could say the same about you,” I murmured.

My face was inches from his, close enough to see his beauty up close. It was even more breathtaking. He looked down at me, his eyes so tentative, so gentle. We moved closer into each other, like a magnetic force was reeling us in, we had no control. It felt natural, it felt right. Our lips were about to brush…

He cleared his throat and pulled away quickly. My face grew very flushed as my eyes darted to the nearest corner of the room I could focus on.

“Still not tired?” he asks after a few beats of silence.

“Not in the slightest,” I replied, our eyes connecting once again. The soft rolling fields of hypnotic emeralds once again speeding up my heart rate.

“Good because neither am I,” he smirked, “say, have you ever played strip bowling?”

Now this could get interesting.

a/n: again, I’m really sorry for how long this took me to write and I realise it’s not my most amazing work, so sorry 😔😔 I really wanted to portray a strong friendship with Avery as well as interest in Jameson but idk if that was achieved. anyways hope this was okay, thanks for reading <3

TIG masterlist

[fluentmoviequoter]

Finally Home

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!military doctor!reader (r is Lucy's adopted sister)

Summary: You enlist your boyfriend Tim to help you surprise your (adoptive) sister Lucy after being deployed for several months.

Warnings: brief angst and depictions of loneliness/depression, then lots of fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Being adopted into the Chen family continues to be the best thing that ever happened to you. It didn’t help your shyness much, but the love and sense of belonging you’ve found outweigh all the bad you’ve experienced. When you joined the military, becoming a military doctor, you overcame your shyness enough to be a great doctor. However, when you stop being a doctor, you’re back to the shy sister Lucy knows and loves.

The last time you were stateside, you met Tim Bradford and fell for him quickly. During the six months you were home, Tim learned nearly everything there is to know about you, and he loves all of you.

Now, in your seventh month stationed in Europe, you look forward to your weekly call home. You call one of two numbers: Tim or Lucy. They’re always together when it’s time to answer, so you know you’ll get a chance to talk to both of them and grow shy from across an ocean. Your dog is sitting beside you as the call begins.

“Hey, sis!” Lucy greets happily when the line connects.

The picture is blurry today, but you smile when you see your sister. She’s in her uniform, in an empty office at the police station. Being seven hours ahead means you usually catch her or Tim while they’re at work.

“Hi,” you answer. “Is Tim there?”

“He’s actually on patrol,” she answers. “I’m sorry; there’s a huge problem here right now so they’ve got a ton of people out there.”

“That’s okay. How are you?”

Lucy looks up when a door opens and turns the computer away.

“I’m pretty good. I want to hear about you, though, because not much has changed here.”

“Move,” Tim demands.

You can only see his hand as he reaches for the computer, and you duck away from the camera as they compete for your attention.

“Chen,” Tim says.

“Which one?” you ask.

“The one whose badge I can take. Just let me say hello.”

“Why don’t you just sit together?” you suggest. “Not to say I don’t enjoy this.”

Tim huffs as he pulls a chair beside Lucy, forcefully turning the computer so you can see both of them. He smiles, and you forget what you were going to say.

“Any word on when you’ll be home next?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing. I’m hoping to hear something soon though. There isn’t much happening, so they’ll probably need to move me soon anyway.”

“Then they should let you call more often,” Tim comments.

“I agree. I miss you.”

Tim elbows Lucy gently.

“She meant both of us,” Lucy argues. “Didn’t you?”

You nod and look up suddenly.

“I have to go,” you explain. “I’m so sorry. I love both of you and I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

“I love you,” Tim replies.

“Love you, sis. Be safe,” Lucy adds just before the call ends. “I miss her, Tim.”

“I know.”

Lucy continues staring at the blank screen, and Tim asks her about something he noticed days ago.

“What’s going on?”

“I just- I’m sad all the time. I don’t know if it’s just because she’s gone because I’ve been dealing with her deployments for years, but the only thing I want, have wanted for weeks, is to see her. It’s hard doing everything without her when she’s the only person I want to share things with.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Bradford, Chen, we need you back out there when you’re done. This crime spree is getting worse each time we try to make progress,” Wade says.

“Lets go, we’ll ride together,” Tim offers.

“Like the good old days!”

“I hope not exactly like those.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Superiors are giving you a choice,” your MC commander begins. “Transfer to Germany or temporary leave before being stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas.”

“What would I be doing in Texas, sir?” you ask.

“Continued training and teaching, mostly. And the temporary leave is only two months, but after all this time in Europe I assume you’d return to sunny Los Angeles.”

“I’d like to take the Fort Bragg position, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll let the Surgeon General’s office know. I’m sorry to have interrupted your call; video broadcast has ended, but if you’d like to make a phone call, share the good news, go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk into a private office, dialing Tim’s number and hoping he’s alone. Lucy has been down the last two times you’ve talked. She hides it well, but you’re her sister and can see through her.

“Bradford,” Tim answers.

“Chen,” you reply. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah, I am. What’s going on?”

“Is my sister okay? She’s seemed really sad.”

Tim sighs before he answers, “She misses you. A lot.”

“Then I need your help with something. I’m coming home.”

“When?” Tim asks. “I mean, I’ll help you with anything, but I’m so happy to get to see you again.”

You press your lips together, feeling heat rising in your cheeks.

“I should be there in a week or so, but I’ll let you know a date when I have one.”

“Okay. And the help?”

“I want to surprise Lucy. Any ideas?”

“Well, there is a restaurant she can’t stop talking about.”

“Tim? I’m going to be home for two months.”

“I get you for two months?”

“I can’t wait,” you answer sarcastically.

“Give me a date and time and I’ll get Lucy there.”

“Will she get suspicious?”

“Who do you think I am? She won’t have a clue.”

✯✯✯✯✯

A week later, Lucy has been checking her phone nonstop. She hasn’t heard from you since you abruptly ended the last call, and her concern and sadness about missing you are beginning to overflow. All of her fellow cops have noticed, so when you call and ask a few of them to meet at Lucy’s favorite restaurant to cheer her up, they happily agree.

“Get ready,” Tim demands at the end of the shift. “We’re going to dinner.”

“Why?” Lucy asks.

“Because we’re both worried and need a distraction. She’s fine, but you’re going to make yourself sick worrying like this, Lucy.”

“Okay. Give me ten minutes. Where are we going?”

“Your favorite.”

Lucy smirks as she walks to the locker room. Tim checks his phone but hasn’t received any message saying you landed.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Easy, boy,” you whisper, patting your dog over the Military K-9 vest as the plane lands.

The other passengers are kind enough to let you get your duffel bag and exit the plane first, rushing to the car rental counter and leaving for the restaurant. You’re running late, and don’t even think about letting Tim know you’re back in Los Angeles. As you park, seeing the ‘Service Animals Welcome’ sign on the door, you realize you forgot to tell Tim your dog is with you.

“Let’s go introduce you to my family.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you call Tim.

“Hey,” he answers. “I don’t have long before your sister shoves me over a balcony to talk to you.”

“Patio?” you ask, smiling.

“Yep.”

“I’ll be over in a minute.”

“Is that my sister?” Lucy asks, attempting to pull Tim’s arm away from his ear to take the phone.

“Tim, I have to go. I love you. Tell Lucy I said hi,” you say before ending the call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Lucy sits down, dejected. She tries to enjoy the appetizers and her friends sitting around her, but she wishes you were at the party. The door opens, and Lucy glances over before picking up her head and giving her full attention to the person walking through the door. Her jaw drops as she watches you walk toward her, a dog at your side. Lucy’s shock turns to a smile as she jumps from her seat to hug you. As you return her hug, smiling as you whisper how happy you are to see her, Tim’s hand covers yours as he takes the leash from you.

“Hey, bud,” he says to the dog. “Lucy, could I get a turn?”

“No,” she says against your shoulder.

“Hi, Tim,” you greet, turning your face away when he smiles.

“Hiding from my smile,” he muses. “Can you survive two months with me?”

“Two months?!” Lucy repeats, pulling back.

“I like your dress,” you murmur, seeing her for the first time in too long. “And, yes, I have two months of leave before I move to Fort Bliss.”

“Where is that?”

“Texas.”

“You’re staying stateside?” Tim interjects, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug, turning in his arms to hug him.

“Welcome home,” he says, kissing your jaw as his arms tighten around you.

“Thanks for helping me with the surprise.”

“I’ll always be here with you.”

“So will I!” Lucy adds.

“Are you going to fight to hug me now?” you ask.

“Yes!” everyone at the table answers.

“And you brought a dog!” Lucy cheers, lowering her hand to pet your dog.

“I love you,” Tim says, pulling a chair out so you can sit between him and Lucy.

“I love you,” you reply softly. “I have one more thing I didn’t tell you, though.”

“What?” Lucy and Tim ask together.

“The position I took is a teaching job, so I’ll have more time to visit.”

They hug you simultaneously, no longer fighting over who gets to go first. You drop your chin towards Tim’s arm and smile. When your dog puts his paws in your lap and joins the hug, you know you are finally home. Sitting at a table with the two people you love most in the world, you know the next two months will be amazing, even if you're shy the entire time.

[arctickat2400]

Post-It Note Surprises ∞ Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Some of the ways Henry shows you he loves you while he’s away, using multi-colored post-it notes. 

Word Count: 3517

A/N: Usually I wouldn’t write something with Henry being gone because in my head, I don’t like when he’s gone, but I found a post for inspiration and this is how I thought it out. 

A/N2: Usually I will have notes to write a story from but this is just something random I came across and decided to write it at the top of my head, so I apologize if it’s not very good. Sorry for the weird, cheesy repetition. No method to my madness. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * * *

You woke up to a gentle stroke over the bridge of your nose, a small smile rising to your lips. Opening your eyes just slightly to see Henry gazing down at you as he leaned on his arm above you, “Good morning, beautiful,” he smiles once he sees your eyes, an index finger tracing gentle lines across the smooth skin of your face. You let out a quiet giggle as you turn to hide your face against his chest. Henry chuckles deeply in return, burying his fingers into your hair. You turn your head to look up at him, his eyes still on you.

“Morning, my love,” You respond as Henry leans down and rubs his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss. 

“How did you sleep?” Henry questioned, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Okay since I was sleeping next to you,” You answer with a grin on your lips. “But also not the best considering what tonight is,” Your smile faded a bit at the thought of Henry leaving. He was leaving tonight to go on a trip for the next two weeks to shoot some scenes for his upcoming movie in Europe, and although there’s been times he’s been gone for longer periods of time, any length of time away from him was excruciating. 

“I know, baby,” Henry offered you a sympathetic smile. He hated leaving you. He hated not being able to hold you in his arms every night. But he planned on making this few week transition as easy as possible for you. “But I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll FaceTime everyday so I can see that gorgeous face of yours,” Henry stated, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose.

Giggling and moving onto your back to look up at him, “More like so I can see your handsome face,” You placed your hand on his cheek, tracing your thumb over his lips. “Luckily I have quite a bit of work to get done so hopefully that’ll make time go by faster.”

Henry brushes a strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Are you going to work today?” He asks.

“Unfortunately, yes. The one day I have to go in is the day you leave. Figures,” You roll your eyes with frown. Henry chuckles softly.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I have stuff I need to get done around here before I leave anyway.” Henry mentioned as you sat up in bed, Henry turning onto his back as you turned to look at him.

“Oh, do you mind if I take your car today? I haven’t put gas in mine and by the time I leave, I won’t have time to get any before work.” You requested, even though you knew he’d say ‘yes’ - he always did with whatever you asked - but you always asked anyway. 

“Of course, love,” He answered, his arm propping his head up to look up at you with a look of adoration. You leaned down to press a kiss of gratitude to his lips before getting up to get ready for work, however reluctantly. All you wanted to do was stay in his arms all day. 

~ That Night ~

“Be safe. Try your hardest not to get hurt on set. I don’t want a phone call from someone that’s not you telling me you’re in the hospital again,” You told Henry jokingly, although you were far from joking and he knew it. Your arms hung around his neck and his arms enclosed around your waist, holding you close as you stood in the airport to say goodbye. 

“I’ll try my best, my love. We shouldn’t be shooting anything too dangerous. I don’t want you worrying your pretty little head about me. You have enough going on as it is.” Henry responded, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I love you so much, bear,” You whispered close to his lips, a single tear sliding down your cheek.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I miss you already,” Henry leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate, goodbye kiss. Henry wrapped his arms around you tight in one last hug. He pulled back, thumbing away your tear as he looked you in the eyes once more, a sad smile on both your faces, before he kissed your forehead and you watched him off to his flight. 

The next day, you’d decided to run some errands, stock up on some groceries. You’d meant to do it yesterday after work, but decided against it so you could spend as much time with Henry as you could before he left. You didn’t really have it in you to go out, considering you had gotten your period last night after you got home from the airport and you were exhausted, and add that to the fact that you always felt overly tired when Henry was gone. But you knew you needed to get it done and get it over with. You went to look in the fridge to see what all you needed when you spotted a small basket of your favorite kinds of chocolate, and your entire day just became a tiny bit brighter. 

You reached in after you noticed a purple post-it note on top. 

Hey, sweetheart. I wish I was with you to comfort you through your monthly curse, but I hope this will help until I can be there for you. Enjoy, my love, and I’ll see you soon 💜

You didn’t know whether it was the overstimulated hormones or just the fact that you missed your super sweet boyfriend dearly, but a few tears managed to slip down your cheeks at the wonderful gesture. The fact that Henry even knew that you were going to have your period while he was gone was unbelievable, but what was even more insane was that he went to the store and bought things for you to help you feel better. This man was a saint, and you loved him all the more for it. Even when he’s not home, he’s still taking care of you. You stuck the post-it onto the fridge with a smile on your face.

Opening one of the bags of chocolate, you ate a few pieces, reveling in the deliciousness as you made a list of everything you needed at the store. Putting the bag back in the fridge, you grabbed your mini backpack, keys, and phone, sliding on your shoes and walking into the garage.

“Man,” You groaned the moment you laid eyes on your car. You forgot you needed to get gas. That’s why you took Henry’s car to work yesterday. Now you have to get gas and go to the store. You were already in a lot of pain (the second day was always the worst), and all you wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep. You jumped in your car and turned it on, and just as you were about to turn on your music, you caught in the corner of your eye the gas meter. It was not actually almost empty. It was, in fact, completely full. “What?” You muttered to yourself, before your eyes flicked down to the middle console to see a red post-it note there. 

Hey, gorgeous. I filled up your car and I hope having one less thing on your plate makes you feel a bit better. I miss you so much. I hope you know you are loved and cared for and that you’re always on my mind ❤️

This man really knows the ways to a woman’s heart. You made a mental note to make sure to stick this post-it note on the fridge next to the first one when you get home. You pulled out of the garage with an adoring grin on your face for the amazing man that you graciously get to call yours. On the drive to the grocery store, you began making a mental list of all the things you could do for Henry. He never expected anything in return. All he wanted to do was love on you and take care of you. But how could you not do things for him to thank him for literally being Henry? 

Once you got home, you placed the red post-it next to the purple on the fridge before putting away all the groceries. You had some work that needed to get done but, deciding to work on it in the next coming days, you decide to go relax on the back patio instead. An ocean view was something very high on your list of what you had to have when looking for a new place to live once you and Henry decided to move in together.

You absolutely loved to sit outside on your favorite patio swing that was covered with pillows and cushions with a book while listening to the waves crashing against the shore. However, it was just last week that you’d noticed the two screws on the right side in the ceiling were coming loose. You’d gone to tell Henry who had come to look at it and advised you not sit there until he was able to fix it. He’s been so busy lately that he hasn't had the time to fix it.

Fortunately, you had some other comfy patio furniture that you were happy to sit on in the meantime. You were just disappointed because the swing reminded you of all the moments you would sit there with Henry all snuggled up in his arms, listening to the waves, talking about everything and nothing. 

You went to grab your book in case you decided you wanted to read, and a blanket to cozy up with on the patio, choosing the L-shaped couch. You set your things down before turning to go back inside to get a drink, but something caught your eye. A blue post-it note sat on the neatly made patio swing. 

Hey, angel. I knew it was inevitable that you’d want to come lounge around out here so I fixed the swing before I left. I wish I was there to hold you and cozy up with you. We’ll be able to do so soon enough. Enjoy the peace and quiet, my love 🩵

After recovering from the sweetness of the note, you remembered what the point of the note was and you instantly looked up to see that Henry had indeed fixed the swing. He’d even replaced the screws on the left side as well. You gasped quietly at just how amazing this man is. You walk inside to place the blue post-it next to the red on the fridge before strolling back outside and settling onto the swing. Taking a deep breath, you bask in the peace as you lean back into the cushions with a smile on your face, swinging gently in the breeze as you imagine your big bear of a boyfriend holding you tight in his embrace. 

Just as you were finishing up a chapter of your book, you felt your stomach rumble in hunger. You checked your phone to see it was already time for dinner. Placing your bookmark inside, you closed your book, took your blanket, and headed inside. You began looking through the pantry for something to eat before moving to the fridge. You’d gotten stuff for dinners when you’d gone shopping, but you couldn’t tell what you were in the mood for. 

Finally, you bent down to open the freezer, not having bought anything that needed to be freezed, so you wanted to see what had been stored in there. What you found on the very top was a delicious looking glass dish full of cheesy, crumb-topped, bacon-filled spaghetti carbonara, and on top of that, a green post-it note.

Hey, Princess. Thought a prepared meal would lift your spirits so you don’t have to cook for the next few nights if you’re not up for it. Heat at 350 for 20 minutes. I love you always 💚

Even when he’s not here, it seems like he still is with all that he’s done. And he did it within a single day without you even knowing! Everyday, you find yourself loving this man just a tad bit more with all the ways he shows his love for you. It is impossible not to love Henry. He could do absolutely nothing at all and just be with you and love you, and you’d still love him with all your heart. 

You place the green post-it next to the blue on the fridge with a sweet smile as you take the pasta dish and place it into the oven. You do just as Henry instructed of you on his note and heated Henry’s gesture of love at 350 for 20 minutes *she says in a dreamy tone*.

“How do you do it?” Was the very first thing you said to Henry the moment you answered his FaceTime call later that night. 

“I’m guessing you found the notes I left you,” Henry responds with a grin, trying to keep the blush from showing on his cheeks. It wasn’t working. 

“I did, and I am just so astounded at how a man, my man may I add, could possibly be so amazing that he can make my day so much better without even being around. How I could feel so loved and be so taken care of when you’re not even here. How is that even possible?” You exclaim, bewildered. 

“You’re just that easy to love, sweetheart. I can’t help but show you in every way possible how much you mean to me and how much I love you,” Henry answers with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, although his gaze never parts from yours as a crimson blush rises to your own cheeks. You’ve always had a tough time loving yourself. But with Henry, he made it seem so effortless, like he was made to love. 

“I love you so much. You always do so much for me, and I just hope you know how much I love and appreciate you,” You express to Henry, receiving a smile from him. 

“I do, baby. I really do,” Henry winked at you, making your cheeks blush deeper. The rest of the night, you both talked about your days and everything that you did. You love to hear all about Henry’s time on set and all that he gets to do and see. 

“I wish you were here, or I was there. I just wanna be home with you,” Henry admitted, staring dreamily into your eyes.

“I know, darling, I wish I was with you, too. It’s so hard being without you. But, soon enough, you’ll be home, and hopefully for a long while,” You smiled, followed by a yawn. You hadn’t taken a nap today, and you hoped it would allow you to sleep better even without Henry in bed with you. 

“Get some rest, sweet girl. I’ll text you in the morning before going to set. Sweet dreams, my love,” Henry wished to you with a smile of his own. 

“Goodnight, handsome. Talk to you soon,” You replied. Henry winked at you, pulling a giggle from you and a cheerful smile from him before you both hung up to sleep.

~ A few days before Henry comes home ~ 

Placing a plate of brownies and a glass of milk on your desk, you sit down in front of your computer to continue working on your project. You take a bite of your snack, followed by a sip of milk before opening your drawer to take out your notebook. Except there was something on top, exactly where Henry knew you would look at one point or another. There, set on your notebook, was a mini picture frame. Inside was one of your most favorite photos of you and Henry - you could never choose just one.

It was when you and Henry had first moved into your home and you had taken it standing outside on the patio with the ocean in the background. Henry’s arms were wrapped around you, his head on your shoulder, and you both had such happy smiles on your faces. It was quite rare that there wasn’t a smile on your faces when you were around each other. You made each other happier than either of you ever thought possible. 

Then, there was the pink post-it note right beside the frame.

Hey, baby girl. I’ll be home soon and you’ll be back in my arms in no time. When I went out while you were at work the other day, I saw this and thought of you 💗 I put my favorite photo of us in it and I hope it puts that beautiful smile on your face that I absolutely adore. 

The longing for your most precious man was almost excruciating. You missed him so much, and seeing him touch you but not being able to feel him was one of the hardest things to have to bear. 

You headed to the kitchen and placed the pink post-it next to the green on the fridge before sitting back down at your desk and propping the mini frame up next to your computer so you can always see it, always bringing a smile to your lips, whether Henry was right by your side or miles away. 

~The day before Henry comes home ~

Henry had a late night and a very early morning. Right after he ended on set, he would go straight to bed after, meaning you wouldn’t be able to FaceTime tonight. However, you couldn’t be too disappointed because his early morning meant he came home tomorrow!

Henry: I love you so much, darling! I can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Just a little while longer! 💜❤️🩵💚💗

His goodnight text brought a smile to your face as you noticed his string of heart emojis were the colors of the post-it notes he set out for you to find during his time away. Your body buzzed with excitement, anticipation for the love of your life to finally come home. You almost couldn’t wait, but you had no choice. You attempted to get some more of your project done, mostly just staring at the screen and daydreaming because you could hardly focus. Finally, it was late enough that you could go to bed and sleep away the hours keeping you from Henry. 

You moaned as your alarm went off, one eye peeking open to see it was only 5 AM. Why was your alarm going off at such an inopportune time of the morning? 

You hopped up instantly the second your mind remembered that Henry was coming home! In less than 2 hours, you would finally be back in each other’s arms. 

You scrambled around trying to look for clothes and shoes in your half asleep, half amped state. You grabbed your keys, backpack, and phone and rushed to your car. The only thing keeping you awake was the anticipation of finally seeing Henry again in person.

You arrived at the airport with 10 minutes to spare. You parked the car and ran inside where you would meet Henry by baggage claim. You stopped at the end of the hall where a group of people were walking through after getting off their flight. You checked the tv that listed all the flight stats and instantly found Henry’s flight - on time. You smiled when you felt your heart flutter, looking ahead when you finally caught sight of the man who never ceases to make your knees weak and your heart melt. The biggest smile came to your face, and the moment Henry saw you, his smile appeared and the sparkle in his eyes burned bright.

Your eyes meet and your feet start moving on their own accord. You ran closer and closer until Henry dropped his bags to catch you effortlessly in his strong embrace, spinning you around as you held on tight. 

“I missed you so much, my darling baby girl.” Henry admitted, setting you down but still holding you in his arms, holding your head against his chest as he reveled in the feeling of his most precious girl. 

It was hard to let go, but when you finally did, you met in the middle with a fiery, passionate kiss, long overdue. When you pulled apart for air, Henry placed his hands on either side of your face, holding you there so he could finally look at you again. He’s had you memorized ever since he first met you. But everytime he comes home from a trip, it’s like seeing you again for the first time, having to look at every inch of your face as you hold on tight to his wrists, making sure he won't let go.

“Tell me everything!” You exclaimed blissfully. You had the brightest look on your face as you couldn’t look away from him. Henry gazed at you with the most adoring smile on his face - he’s finally home.

[angelkiyo]

in bloom [sakusa kiyoomi x fem! indie actress! reader]

chapter ii + masterlist [fluff, modern/timeskip au]

🎧 (suggested song: homesick - wave to earth)

You bit your lip and started running to your apartment complex. Your heart was running at a thousand miles per hour and you felt overwhelmed.

He’s more handsome than before… FUCK!

Once you got to your destination, you slammed the door, startling your roommate, Hitoka who was in the living room watching a rom-com with her boyfriend Tadashi.

You’ve gotten to know Hitoka since your orientation day for university. For Tadashi, they’ve dated since their third year of high school and you’ve been friends with them ever since.

They were there when you first got a bit of clout as a “rising” actress (A film you were in got some publicity from social media because of the aesthetics and people liked you for your performance and looks), so you make sure to treat them any chance you get.

Hitoka and Tadashi ran to your startled figure, crouched down, “N/N. are you okay?!” Tadashi rubbed your back, “Is everything okay, Y/N?”

You gave them a stiff smile as you stood up, rubbing your temples, “I’m okay it’s just- do you two remember when we were at the grocery store? And after that I couldn’t stop talking about my ex-boyfriend?”

They both nodded, “Where are you going with this?”

Your lips went into a straight line as you sighed, “I just ran into him at the 711 mini-mart a block away.”

They both widened their eyes, “YOU RAN INTO HIM?!”

Hitoka narrowed her eyes, “What does he even look like now? He’s probably unsuccessful and has nothing on you. Is there anything we can talk shit about?”

You sighed. You never really told Hitoka or Tadashi about who he really is.

All they know is that he broke up with you for no reason and his name is Kiyo, not the fact that he is Sakusa Kiyoomi of the MSBY Black Jackals and one of the wealthiest volleyball players in Asia and Europe combined.

“Well uh, it just looked like he- um, he’s taller and his black hair got shorter and wavier?”

Tadashi raised his eyebrow, “That’s like half of Japan’s male population.”

You froze and yawned. You didn't know what else to say and ran out of excuses to escape interrogation , “I’ll tell you two tomorrow. Good night!”

“But-?”

You shut your bedroom door and went onto your laptop to find him on your socials.

He’s gotten verified too since last time I checked…

It hurts your ego to admit you’ve been stalking him since you’ve seen his face on the billboard for a Calvin Klein advertisement two months ago. (You felt your friends pry you away from gawking at his jean advertisement)

You’ve even tried to move on from him by downloading In Bloom (You saw an ad on Insta while stalking him).

You didn’t know what you thought as you just attempted to block him (he didn’t even follow you).

Just to spite him (you still liked him after 3 years).

All over him posting a few hours ago on the same day you bumped into him? (Yes, but you’re trying to move on. He's the one who broke up with you anyway).

At this point, you weren't even aware of what you accidentally did next.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

firstnamelastname followed you.

What…?

Kiyoomi thought he was seeing things. I mean, he was drinking his spiked tea but he isn't exactly a lightweight when it came to drinking.

You followed his social media?

He decided to follow back as he felt his stomach drop. He didn't know why you would follow him or what?

Maybe it was because he was "famous" or whatever.

Maybe because you wanted to see what he does now?

You were in a movie? Do you still like volleyball? Do you know who MSBY is?

Several thoughts were going through his head. Why would you even follow him in the first place? He felt so much guilt just looking at your picture of what he did to you. To you two.

He stared at your account intensely, only to have his thoughts interrupted by his cousin.

He had just moved in with his cousin a week ago since Komori wanted a roommate and the apartment was closer to his practice gym than his old apartment. It was convenient.

"Yo Kiyoomi, are you eating?"

He turned to see Motoya in his fluffy bathrobe, yawning, "Damn it man, it's so late. What the hell are you still doing? I thought practice usually ends at like 9."

Kiyoomi shrugged and went back to stalking you, "Getting some food. I was hungry. Hey-"

Motoya snorted as he took his phone to see your social media pulled up, "Now who is this...Y/N L/N? Haven't heard of her since Itachiyama. Why do you have her pulled up?"

Kiyoomi froze a bit. If there was one person he would tell anything to, it's Motoya. You're the only thing he's never brought up to him. All his cousin would assume is that you two were familiar with each other and that's it, not aware that Kiyoomi and you were a thing.

"I'm just curious as to what she's doing, y'know?" He said, sighing. You were in Itachiyama's girls volleyball club and were at the school in the first place because of a scholarship.

Of course he knew who you were in that sense.

Though, to Kiyoomi, you used to be so much more.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

April 2014

"Y'know you could have totally won, you just were going easy on me." Kiyoomi laughed, stretching his arm to your shoulders.

It was the day before the new term began and Kiyoomi was walking you home from his place after binging movies like Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill and playing chess.

You kissed his cheek and laughed, "It's not my fault you suck at chess."

He hummed. He felt at peace with you. You two had only dated for 2 months as you both formally 'met' at a unisex volleyball camp the break between your first year and second year of high school.

You had the same homeroom too, but just never paid attention to each other until then. You two had a casual friendship, occasionally being partnered up for projects and getting closer as his boundaries started becoming weaker towards you. You were the one who confessed to him anyway after school. He just couldn’t reject you and the mutual feelings between you both.

You held his hand and swung it softly between you two as you walked, "Do you plan to go to that party that Nekoma person is hosting this weekend? Tetsuro, I think his name is?"

He knew that name due to him being the former Nekoma Boys Volleyball captain, "I don't know, I wouldn't want to go, but Motoya is probably going to force me."

Your lips formed into a fine line and you sighed, "Kiyoomi, it would be cool if you wanted to have some fun once in a while. Break out of your shell. I mean you're popular. I'm pretty sure if you go, you'd have some fun."

He pursed his lips and shrugged, "I guess but I don't know. Would you want me to go?"

You sighed, "I mean you choose, it's completely your choice, Kiyo. But it would be cool if you went. You can text me all about it the next day!”

He knew that Motoya would be excited that he would voluntarily want to go (because you encouraged him to go) but felt a bit sad that you couldn't go anyway. You had a weekend theatre camp to attend and was gone the whole weekend.

I mean he would need something to do. His parents would be out on their anniversary weekend and his siblings are gone on the weekend in general.

Once you were at home, you turned to Kiyoomi and pointed to your phone, "Text me, pretty boy. Good night." You pecked his cheek and smiled.

He stared at you as you went home, waving to you as you turned back before shutting the door.

He was completely enamored by you.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

“Oh you have In Bloom? Hah, you’re finally getting a girl?”

Kiyoomi forgot Motoya had his phone and frowned, “Shut up, I was curious.”

Motoya snatched it back and sat down next to Kiyoomi at the table to look at his profile, “And you have nothing on your account! Damn it, Kiyoomi. At least try to look for a girl…”

“Motoya, what the hell are you doing?”

He snorted as he started typing, “Getting you some girls, that’s what.”

in bloom 🌷

Name & Age: Kiyoomi S. - 26

Info: 🇯🇵, Volleyball Player, 6’4.

ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Kiyoomi looked at the information Motoya put down, “Why’d you put my height on there?”

His cousin shrugged while taking a sip of his cousin’s tea, “Girls like tall dudes. I just helped you here, man.”

He cringed after taking a sip, “Fuck, Kiyoomi. I knew you had issues but that doesn’t mean you have to drown yourself in shitty alcohol.”

Kiyoomi snatched the bottle and closed it, “It looked tempting and I do not have issues.”

“Yeah right. You can’t even find a girlfriend. You’ve never had one!”

Before Kiyoomi could say anything, Motoya stood up and yawned, pointing at him, “You owe me.”

He really did owe him. He just hoped it would be worth it.

Kiyoomi looked back at his cousin and yawned, “Yeah whatever, good night.”

As he went to the bathroom to take a shower, he recollected all his thoughts.

You.

You remembered him.

You followed him. Would you still want to talk to him?

After all, he did cheat on you.

.

.

.

a/n- should i make a taglist..? idk but thanks for reading :))

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, fluff, smut (18+)

summary: it’s ten months of texts, phone calls, voicemails, anything to make it feel like everything isn’t too different. and for the most part, it works. until you and steve finally see each other again

EPILOGUE | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆❞

You: How’s New York so far?

Steve: Good aside from Tom trying to force me to do more press stuff than what we initially agreed on and I’ve only been here three days

You: I kinda miss that british man

Steve: That truly offends me</3

You: I’m sorry<3

You: Okay very very important question

You: Empire State of Mind or Welcome to New York?

Steve: ???? 

You: You’re in New York for the next month so one of them has to be your signature song (and yes this is coming from the person that has only been to New York a handful of times. shut up don’t mention it) 

Steve: Can I say no to both of them?

You: No.

Steve: Okay then 

Steve: The Taylor Swift one

You: Solid answer

You: Now I will start your morning right every day you’re there by sending you lyrics from that song :) 

Steve: Oh god

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve: What was the name of that show we watched for almost five hours at your place that one night?

You: It sincerely hurts me that you forgot the name of Brooklyn Nine-Nine….

Steve: Yes, that’s it! I was thinking about this one episode we watched of it but I couldn’t remember the name

You: Are you about to watch it without me? (if the answer is yes that hurts me even more)

Steve: Yes I was… But now no way I would never watch it without you

You: A true friend. Thank you 

Steve: Oh wait I’m just now realizing how late it is where you are. How are you even talking to me right now? 

You: Yeah, it’s 2am but I can’t sleep. First day of real filming tomorrow. First day being AD. And yes all the pre-production stuff me and Jessie have been doing since we got to Spain two weeks ago has been perfectly leading to this moment, but now it just feels so fucking real and even though I know I’m not gonna mess up or anything I’m still nervous

Steve: You’re gonna do great and actually I think it’s impossible for you not to be really good at what you do  

You: Thank you

Steve: I would suggest that I call you and we watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to take your mind off things but you should sleep 

You: No actually can we do that? I’m wide awake right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon 

You: Also fun fact: I’m actually able to function better when I’m running on barely three hours of sleep 

Steve: That’s a huge lie but okay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“… Please leave a message after the beep.”

You listened to the all-too familiar sound of the “beep” and then began speaking. “Okay, I know it’s like three in the morning in LA right now, so it completely makes sense why you didn’t answer. But, anyway, I just landed in London last night and now it’s morning and I’m at the coffee shop that you told me I should go to while I’m here.” 

“It’s really, really great, and I hate how right you are about the tea being amazing, and it actually makes me change my mind about how much I dislike tea. Oh, also, I got my first ever British scone from here and it’s so good too. I think I’ll probably be spending every day at this place while I’m here for the next month.”

“And I know you raved a lot about the breakfast sandwiches here too, so I will try that tomorrow. I think you said that the bacon one was your favorite, but please confirm that because I can’t fully remember… Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s definitely the bacon because I do remember you saying that you miss it a lot.”

“I could bring you one back if you want? No, wait, actually, that wouldn’t make sense because even when I leave London, I’m still gonna be in Europe for three more months… Wait, I see that they sell coffee mugs here, though, so I could definitely bring you back that if you wanted me to? They have some cool options.” 

“Alright, I think I’m just rambling at this point so let me shut up.” You let out a small laugh. “Okay, bye.” 

Call Ended

-

You: *image attached* 

You: Enjoy that picture of me being the most touristy tourist in the world :) 

Steve: I can’t believe you’re doing the leaning tower of pisa pose thing

You: I had to. I couldn’t come here and not do it. It feels like tradition. A rite of passage, if you will

Steve: You’re such a dork 

You: Joke’s on you because I fully take that as a compliment, so thank you 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in the back pocket of the jeans you were wearing surprised you because you thought you had turned it off for the day. And then seeing Steve’s name take over your phone screen further surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.  

“Hi,” You said. You were on a break for the first time that day, so the timing of his call was actually kind of perfect. “This is a pretty nice surprise.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” It felt really good actually hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like forever.  

“Pretty good. I never thought I’d actually find myself truly missing LA, but now I kinda can’t wait to be back there in three weeks,” You answered, saying what had been on your mind for a while at this point. “How’s Vancouver?” 

“Nice so far. It’s actually been snowing a lot, but I like it.” 

“I hope you've been doing all of the snow and Winter activities; making snow angels, sledding down hills. Y’know, all the stuff they do in children’s Christmas movies.” 

You almost immediately heard Steve laugh at your words. “The apartment I’m staying at here has a balcony, and last night after it stopped snowing I made a really small snowman.” 

You smiled. “I love that. Please send me a picture of it.” 

“Okay.”

Things became quiet for a moment, and it was a silence that easily felt comfortable and you didn’t mind it at all. Simply knowing that Steve was on the other end of the call felt like enough. 

“This is a random thought, but we never usually talk on the phone. Mainly because our time zones are insanely different, so the timing is never right, and we’re either leaving each other voicemails or just texting, which is fine. But it’s really nice hearing your voice. It’s just… really comforting.” You let out a soft breath. “Where I am right now and where I’ve been the past five-ish months have become my makeshift “homes,” but talking to you actually feels like home, in a way… And I know exactly how disgustingly cheesy that sounds. Don’t say anything about it, or I will end this call.”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, I agree with you. We’ve talked about feeling lonely before, but even though we haven’t seen each other in what feels like a really long time, whenever we text and especially when we talk on the phone, it’s hard to feel lonely. It’s like all of these miles between us don’t really matter, which is nice. You’re my “home” too.”

You were quiet for a second, fully taking in his words and smiling at how happy they made you feel. It was the kind of happiness where you also kind of felt like crying. 

You loved what you had been doing currently with your job and you wouldn’t have changed any of it, but you also really wished that you could see Steve right then; you would’ve killed for a hug.  

“Okay, I think I should go before I start crying,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Also, I only have ten more minutes of my break, and I haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I really like when we can actually talk to each other. I like hearing your voice.” 

“I like hearing yours too,” He told you and somehow it was easy to hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Go eat something.”

“Aye, aye captain,” You said with a small laugh. “Talk to you soon.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You: I just watched the final cut of Fear of Lonesome with Jessie… Enjoy this picture of me currently bawling my eyes out at the ending

You: *image attached*

Steve: Sorry for making you cry?

You: It was worth it, honestly

Steve: You’re coming to the cast and crew screening next week right?

You: Of course. I will happily cry at this movie again :)

You: It’s kinda really fucked up how good of an actor you are 

Steve: Thank you? At least I think that’s a compliment

You: It is<3

You: Anyway I’ll see you next week then

You: The first time in a really really long time. Holy shit 

Steve: That feels a little weird to think about. But a good kind of weird

You: Yeah definitely the good kind 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a moment that was ten months in the making. 

Ten months of texts, voicemails, and sporadic phone calls. Ten months of being so far apart from one another, but doing so much to make it feel like you weren’t. 

It was all leading here— seeing Steve in person at the small theater in West Hollywood that had been rented out for the night’s occasion. And when you saw him, talking to random members of the cast and crew, it didn’t exactly feel real, which made you not say anything. 

Until he saw you and your eyes met and small smiles were quickly shared. You gave him a small nod before you got pulled into a conversation with someone.

He looked a little different, hair grown out a bit more and there was something minorly different about his stance, but overall he was still your Steve. Well, not technically yours, but close enough. You then wondered if he thought you looked any different. You personally felt a bit different, in a good way; like you’d become better over the past ten months, and in some ways, more of yourself. 

It was almost amusing how, most of the time, the time seemed to move slowly over the past ten months, but now it was suddenly moving so much faster. 

Everyone left the lobby area and started making their way inside the room that the screening would be happening in since it was scheduled to start in five minutes, but you and Steve lingered back, walking toward each other until there were only a few beats of space between you two. 

You smiled at him again. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between you and pull you in for a hug, but you stepped back. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to hug you. Y’know given that you’re an engaged man and all.” You tried to be completely serious with your words but it was hard not to laugh at least a little bit.

According to many celebrity news outlets, Steve and his female costar of the limited series he’d been filming in Vancouver for the past five months were dating. It was a rumor that started about two months into filming, and there had been no confirmations about the said relationship but there were also no hard denials, so the speculations continued. And then there were even a handful of news outlets that went quite insane with their headlines and said that the two were secretly engaged. You both had laughed about it then when you sent that article to him, because the rumors were hilariously ridiculous, and you couldn’t not joke about it now. 

“Ha ha,” He said, voice deadpan. “I didn’t even get to tell you, but Tom suggested that me and Lily actually start fake dating because, in addition to all of this giving so much more press to the show, it could also help me. If I’m dating someone it will fully “kill off the asshole image.” I immediately vetoed that idea, though.”

Although the asshole narrative that surrounded Steve still existed— not as prominent as it once was but it still lingered whenever his name was brought up by the media— it was hard to see him like that anymore.  

You let out a laugh. “Of course Tom would suggest that.” 

“Yeah, he’s…” Steve trailed off with a quick shake of his head. “Anyway, c’mere.”

You walked into his open arms that time, pushing up on your toes to circle your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as he held you tight and it was then that the time felt like it started to move slow again. 

“I have something for you,” You told him after a moment, words getting somewhat lost in his neck but he was still able to hear you. “A little gift. It’s in my car, I’ll give it to you after.” 

“I also have something for you,” Steve whispered, and you opened your eyes at that.

You pulled back from the hug, still smiling at him. “Great minds, hm?”

He nodded and matched your smile with one of his own. Seeing him right then still didn’t entirely feel real just yet, so you went quiet once again and the two of you simply looked at each other. 

During the past ten months you and him had talked pretty much all of the time, but there was something different about this moment. Feelings that you thought you had successfully pushed far away rushed right back to the surface. 

“We should head inside,” He said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts, which you were grateful for because you really didn’t want to think right then, especially not about that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were the one that suggested Steve come back to your place and the small gift exchange happen there. 

The screening felt as if it ended too soon and the inevitability of the night itself ending started to hang in the air. However, you couldn’t allow that to happen; you wanted this night to last as long as it could. 

Steve agreed with your suggestion and thirty minutes after various goodbyes were said, the two of you were sitting on your couch as a frozen pizza that you’d just bought yesterday cooked in the oven because both of you were hungry. 

You were already wearing the navy blue oversized crewneck he got you that had “Vancouver” embroidered in white across the front of it. It was comfortable and perfect, and a simple gift but also the best thing you’d received in a while. 

“I hope you like this,” You said as you handed him the gift you’d gotten for him; a cream colored mug with the logo of a coffee shop in brown lettering on the side. “I know you said that you were okay with not getting a mug from that coffee shop in London, but I just really wanted to get you this one.”

Steve looked at the mug for a second and then at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You said and your fingers started mindlessly playing with the hem of your crewneck as you continued speaking. “I’ve missed you a lot this past year. I know we talked so often and everything, but being right here, in person, feels really nice.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He said softly before he placed the mug on the coffee table barely a few feet away and then met your eyes again. “There were so many times where I wanted to just drop everything and go see you. Rearrange plans or cancel some stupid press stuff and meet up with you. Even if it would only be for barely a day or whatever. I just always wanted to see you.” 

You wanted to tell him how much you related to his words. You wanted to say how there were a countless amount of times where you had yearned to do the exact same thing. However, you couldn’t find the words to tell Steve any of that, so instead you only looked at him for a bit.

It was almost funny how many times you had become at a loss of words so far that night simply because of him. But it was as if the fact that you were suppressing so much made you unable to say pretty much anything. Because you were scared of where exactly your mind would go if you didn’t immediately shut down some of your thoughts that involved you and Steve, especially now that he was right here instead of thousands of miles away and no longer solely limited to the confines of your phone.  

He was your friend. Best friend. And it had been so much easier to pretend that that was where you and him solely began and ended when you both were so far away from each other— when he wasn’t right in front of you and you weren’t so easily reminded of how close you two used to be in such a different way. 

Those same revived feelings from earlier that night came right back again, and they practically increased tenfold because you found yourself wanting to kiss him so fucking badly. And, of course, there was a part of your mind that immediately told you just how bad of an idea that would be. However, at that moment, you became okay with all logical thinking being pushed out of the window. 

In your mind it felt like you were moving in slow motion, scooting closer to him on the couch and sliding into his lap so that your legs were on either side of him, but in reality it was happening so much quicker. However, you stopped there before you did anything else.

You could see some confusion in his eyes and also something else that you couldn’t fully decipher, maybe he was contemplating things as much as you had been before you decided to take this sort of plunge.  

That look was almost enough to wake you up and remind you of what had been agreed upon all those months ago, but it wasn’t enough to make you pull away from Steve. However, instead of sliding off of his lap or moving things further, you gave the metaphorical ball to him. 

You let silence hang in the air as the two of you simply looked at each other and you gave him the opportunity to push you away. To tell you that there wasn’t any part of him that wanted this to happen. That he was so far past feeling anything like that toward you anymore. That he never even thought about it.

You would’ve been okay with any of those things happening because even though it would’ve hurt, it would actually make things a thousand times easier. 

But, he didn’t do or say any of that. Instead, he closed the last bit of space between you two and slotted his lips against yours. 

It was an immovable and obvious fact that you had missed him so much over the past ten months, but you now realized that you had missed this just as much. A soft kiss that almost immediately turned into something more with one of Steve’s hands coming up to cup your cheek and the other finding your hip to keep you steady. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his tongue ran across your bottom lip making the kiss deeper, and your hands fisted themselves into his t-shirt to bring yourself impossibly closer to him. 

For the time being, you effectively turned your mind off. You deliberately chose not to think about what this exactly meant or what it would come to mean. All you focused on in that moment was how fucking good doing this with Steve felt. 

Your hands found the hem of your crewneck because you suddenly felt way too hot and you pulled away from Steve for a second so that you could slip it over your head, leaving you in just your black tank top and shorts.  

You became so lost in the pure happiness of everything that was happening right then that you couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your ears and the soft sounds Steve was managing to elicit from you due to the way he was squeezing your hips.  

“The oven,” He mumbled against your lips, which slowly snapped you out of the haze you were in. “The oven is beeping.” 

It was then that you heard the incessant noise; almost too loud and clear. 

You abruptly pulled away from Steve and maneuvered off of his lap. “Oh, shit.”  

He followed you into the kitchen as you opened up the oven and used a mitt to grab the circular pan the pizza was on and place it atop the stove. 

“That was, um…” You trailed off not knowing exactly where you wanted to go with your words. 

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“I don’t regret what just happened,” You blurted out. They were the words that pretty much mimicked what was said after the first time you two ever had sex. But, instead of those words first coming from Steve they were coming from you. “And I don’t really know what that means, and I kinda don’t wanna think about what it means right now. I kinda just don’t wanna think at all right now. Sometimes I feel like I think way too much when it comes to us.”

He was quiet for a second before he nodded at you. “Okay.”

His hands found your hips and you were softly pressed against the side of the kitchen counter. You two shared a look that felt as if it was saying a million things, none of which you particularly wanted to decipher right then. 

Before things could stay silent for too long, before you accidentally let your mind fall down a spiraling rabbit hole, you nodded a bit and mimicked Steve’s previous word. “Okay.”   

His hands came up to cup your face before he leaned in to kiss you again. You didn’t waste a second to push yourself onto the counter and Steve’s lips found your neck, roughly kissing and nipping at the skin. Your hands started playing with the hem of his t-shirt before circling in the loops of his jeans and pulling him flush against you. When you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh, you took in a sharp breath and let out a soft moan. You were completely certain that you would’ve let him pull off your shorts and underwear and do whatever he wanted to do to you against your kitchen counter if you weren’t reminded of something else. 

“The pizza?” You mumbled, a bit unable to form the question coherently because all you could really focus on was the feeling of Steve’s mouth against you. 

He pulled away from your neck and met your eyes. “We can eat it after.”

He didn’t have to specify further for you to know exactly what he meant. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah, after sounds perfect.” 

It became a blur of movements after those words fell from your lips. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he picked you up— the abruptness of the action made you simultaneously yelp and laugh as your arms came up to circle around his neck. You were carried to your bedroom and softly placed down against the unmade bed. Clothes were quickly shed until there was nothing between you and him. 

No words were said in these rushed moments where hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere on each other's bodies; the brief looks shared and breathy noises coming from both of you were enough. 

It was as if one mind was being shared or a song that only you two knew the words to was playing and both of you were singing along. Your hands were in his hair, softly pulling because the groans he’d let out were probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard. And his middle finger softly teased your clit as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear because he knew just how much that would make you lose it. 

It had been almost a year but neither of you forgot these little things about one another and it almost felt like second nature to be with each other in this way. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, and maybe that was saying a lot more than you wanted to admit. 

You were positive that if you fully thought about what was happening right then, your mind wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you that this was a bad idea; that it would only make things complicated, and start you both back at square one. 

However, it would also tell you that the times in your life where you felt your happiest and most comfortable mainly consisted of moments with Steve, and that was something that felt as if it would never change. 

Therefore, when he slipped inside you with a low groan that you caught with your mouth and proceeded to make you come faster than you had in such a long time, it was hard to feel anything but completely happy. 

Your legs wrapped around him, coaxing him deeper inside of you and soft “pleases” fell from your lips begging him to come. And after a particularly hard thrust, he let out a loud “Fuck” and came inside of you, and you couldn’t do anything but moan at the feeling of his cum painting your walls. 

The weight of him crushed you in the most comforting way possible, and you tilted your head upward a bit to meet his lips in a soft and lazy kiss. The two of you stayed just like that for a while, coming down from your highs and letting your racing hearts return to normal. Your head fell back against your pillow, eyes closing, but you didn’t feel tired. 

“When those articles about you and Lily dating started coming out, I knew exactly how ridiculous the rumors were because I feel like we have the kind of… friendship where you’d tell me if you were dating someone… But, there was still a small part of me that believed it for a second, and it was actually so hard to not feel a little sad about it.” Your words came out quiet, and you actually had no idea why you had just said all of that— perhaps that confession did not make for the best post-sex pillow talk conversation. But, for some reason, you wanted to say it. 

It was a thought that had weighed on you all those months ago, and you knew that you couldn’t tell that to him then because of what it implied. And you weren’t entirely sure why and what made this moment different from then. 

Steve was quiet for a bit and his face was buried in your neck as he softly spoke. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“It’s okay,” You whispered back. “You don’t have to say anything. It was dumb of me to feel that way about it.” 

He rolled off of you and the feel of his warmth against you was something that you missed almost immediately. For a second you thought that maybe you ruined this moment, whatever it was, but then he said something.  

“What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, and you were grateful for the randomness of the subject change. 

You let out a breath that you didn't know you’d been holding and turned on your side to face him. “For once, absolutely nothing. It’ll probably be the last time I actually have nothing to do before the documentary I’m helping out on starts filming in a month, and I have to do some pre-production stuff for it soon.”

Work was honestly the only thing in your life that felt completely certain, so it always felt easy to talk about.

“You should come to New York. I’m going tomorrow, and I'll be there until the premiere here for the movie next week. I have to do some press stuff and have a few meetings. A bunch of boring stuff, but you should come for the weekend,” Steve said, one hand finding your bare hip and softly rubbing the skin. “To make the boring stuff a lot less boring.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, and you nodded at him, quickly deciding not to think too heavily about your answer. “Okay.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little surprising that it wasn’t surprising how easy things fell back into that old place with you and Steve. Back to what sort of resembled the “arrangement” that had started during filming a year ago where you two pretty much acted like you were in a relationship, but neither of you would say the words or wholeheartedly acknowledge that fact. 

There was a lot that you two would eventually have to talk about, but you decided that that would be a bridge that you’d cross once you were hours away from getting on your flight back to California. And it was a flight that kept changing because you didn’t want to leave New York just yet; you didn’t want to leave Steve yet. 

So, your weekend trip extended days upon days until Wednesday came and it was agreed upon that you’d just go back to Los Angeles Friday morning when Steve was heading back there as well because that was the same day as the movie premiere.

You had a little work to do during those first few weekdays you were there, but you found it easy to respond to emails and make the phone calls you needed to from the comfort of Steve’s apartment, which was smaller than his place in LA but of course still massive and had a great view of Central Park. The dining room area became your makeshift “work from home” spot with your laptop at the table at pretty much all times. And while you did that, Steve was off doing press stuff for the movie, or he was in meetings; the things aside from filming that came along with being a famous actor. 

And then when the day would change into the evening and then night, you two were together, doing everything that you both had desperately missed doing. You two still knew each other’s bodies so well, and it was as if that fact was only further and further proven every night. 

It was hard not to be close to each other when for so long, you hadn’t been able to be, and because of that, things became a little different this time around in comparison to what the “arrangement” had been. There were little touches and affections— holding hands while sitting as close as you possibly could on the couch or Steve kissing you goodbye before he’d leave the apartment— that hadn’t happened before because of the lines that had been metaphorically drawn, but they felt pretty blurred now. 

A sort of routine quickly and almost effortlessly formed and it gave you that glimpse into what you and him could be if the circumstances were slightly different. And it was hard not to admit that you completely adored what this “what if” looked like. 

“We need snacks.” Your words were random and abrupt and Steve only looked at you amusingly. 

It was Wednesday night, days before things would inevitably change, and you weren’t completely sure what they’d change into— if they’d go back to the normal you had created with Steve where the two of you were friends and nothing more, or if things changed into something else entirely. You still completely avoided thinking about it all, and it was pretty damn nice living in this fantasy world. 

The two of you were on the couch in his living room. Your legs were draped over his lap and a blanket covered you both.

One of Steve’s hands was absentmindedly rubbing your leg beneath the blanket as he spoke. “There’s some stuff in the pantry.” 

“If we’re about to spend the entire night watching The Hunger Games movies we need more than just the chips to keep us alive.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Am I underestimating how long these movies are?”

“You definitely are,” You said with a small laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. You then pulled off the blanket that had been draped over the both of you and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go to the convenience store down the street.” 

Steve got up as well. “I’ll come too.” 

You quickly shook your head. “No way. It’s kinda insane how the paparazzi seem way more ruthless here. I think they’re always camping outside the building.” 

Over the past few days, you had come to the conclusion that it was lucky that Steve lived in an apartment building because whenever you would leave and come back, no one could ever know that you were there for him. And you knew just how big of a field day they would have if they did know, especially because of the dating rumors that were still circling about him and Lily.

“Yeah, way too many famous people live here,” Steve said as he followed you into his bedroom.

Your small suitcase, that had only been meant for a weekend trip and was packed as such, was a haphazard mess in the corner. You slipped off the shorts you were wearing and pulled on a black pair of leggings.  

“And yet, I’ve still not run into Paul Rudd on the elevator since I’ve been here,” You jokingly said and expected Steve to laugh, but instead he bypassed your statement.  

“Wait, it’s raining. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?” 

You smiled at his slightly concerned face. “Okay, I know I’ve been living in LA for a long time now, but don’t worry I have in fact experienced rain before.” 

Steve shook his head at you but still couldn’t help but laugh a little at your words. “Hold on.” 

He almost immediately walked away, heading into his closet, before you could ask him what he was doing, and then returned moments later with a hoodie and umbrella. 

“I was already planning to steal a hoodie, but thanks for the umbrella,” You told him with a smile as you put on the plain black hoodie. “What kind of candy do you want me to get?”

“Skittles.” 

“Solid answer,” You responded with a nod. 

The two of you headed toward the front door and you put on your shoes that were next to it. Once you were done, Steve handed you the umbrella. He then pulled the hood of the hoodie over your head and then leaned in to press a kiss on your nose. “Don’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator.”

You laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I really, really hope I do.” 

You didn’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator, and you told Steve that with an over dramatic sad sigh when you came back from the store twenty minutes later, a bag full of junk food in hand, before you both settled back on the couch.

The two of you were only able to fully watch the first two Hunger Games movies before falling asleep an hour into the third one, around two in the morning. You half-woke up when the credits were rolling and then lightly poked Steve awake so that you two could go to his actual bed for the rest of the night.

“This is how it would be, y’know,” Steve said in the morning, words slightly getting lost in your hair.

The two of you were cuddled in his bed, your back pressed against his front and one of his arms draped over your waist. You had just finished having a half-awake discussion about what to do for breakfast before he said that he had to leave soon for the final day of press interviews for the movie, but he told you about a bagel place nearby that you’d probably like. And then the conversation shifted to a pinky promise agreement that you and him would finish the final two Hunger Games movies that night. 

Things became quiet after that, with both of you savoring the last few minutes you could spend in bed, and you found his hand, intertwining it with yours and pulling it up to kiss the back of it. 

You almost shifted around to face Steve after he abruptly said his previous words, but you felt too comfortable in your current position to do so. “How what would be?”

“You and me if we decided to be something real.”

 “Steve,” You said softly and then decided to shift around so that you were looking at him. His hair was a little disheveled and he looked pretty tired, but he also looked so cute. If he hadn’t just abruptly pushed open the door to the conversation that you knew needed to happen, you were certain that you would’ve kissed him right then. 

“I’m just saying...” He said as his shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “Also, I’m slightly kidding. This week has been really good, and I’m glad we got to have it, but I know things will go back to… normal soon. And that’s okay.” 

Hearing him say that— confirming that things would just go back to how they were, a friendship where you both seemed to just lie about what you really wanted and how you felt— made you get hit with the sudden realization that you hated the thought of going back to that.

However, for some reason, you couldn’t find the words to tell him that right then, so instead you nodded at what he had just said and plastered on a fake smile. You made your voice sound as light as possible. “Yeah.” 

He left the apartment forty-minutes later and you left it twenty minutes after that, deciding to go to the bagel place he suggested because you were hungry and also because you didn’t want to be alone in his apartment with only your confusing and contradicting thoughts to keep you company. 

However, somehow as you walked aimlessly around Central Park— your bag with your plain cream cheese bagel in one hand and iced coffee in the other— that was when it felt like the dam broke, and your mind started spiraling because it finally felt impossible to keep avoiding and pushing your thoughts away. You were finally facing the bridge that you had told yourself you’d eventually have to cross, and in your head, you could see that the end of it was leading in two completely different directions. And you knew the exact direction you wanted to go in. 

Your friendship with Steve was supposed to be more than enough. That was what you had told yourself that night at the wrap party to convince yourself that you were completely okay with only having a friendship with him. 

But now, after these past five days of getting that glimpse into what something more could look like, you knew that just being friends really wasn’t enough, and it never would be. And although a part of you still felt a little scared to risk it all, there was an even bigger part of you that didn’t want to give this up anymore. 

You couldn’t give up how completely and irrevocably happy Steve made you in more ways than just friendship. It was a mixture of the butterflies you’d get in your stomach whenever he would pull you close to him to press a soft kiss against your forehead or cheek and the wide smile you’d get on your face when he’d come back to the apartment after being gone for hours. It was also how he would look at you so adoringly when you would ramble about work stuff and how he could easily manage to convince you to stay in bed for “five more minutes;” five minutes that would always turn into at least ten but you never cared. 

Steve Harrington made you the happiest you’d ever been and you suddenly became tired of continuously avoiding that fact.  

It was a series of quick but definitely long overdue actions that happened next. 

You found yourself sitting on a park bench with the thought of eating your bagel or drinking more of your coffee long forgotten for the time being, and instead they simply sat next to you, because there was something else you needed to do at that moment. You pulled out your phone and went to Steve’s contact, pressing the call button before you could think twice about it. 

It went straight to voicemail, just like you knew it would because he always kept it off during interviews, so you waited for the way too familiar “beep” sound and then started speaking. 

“Hi,” Your voice came out softer than you expected it to, so you cleared your throat. “I knew that you weren’t gonna answer, and I’m kinda glad that you didn’t because I just want to get all of this out all at once. So, stay tuned for a very long-winded ramble from me.” You let out a small laugh. “Um, anyway, these past five days that I’ve been here in New York with you have been so good, like insanely good, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about what would happen after this and what would exactly change between us. And I was completely okay with not thinking about any of that because it made it easier to just live in the moment and be happy with what we’ve been doing. But then this morning, you said that it’s okay that things will go back to normal soon and that finally made me think about everything, and I realized that I don’t want us to go back to “normal.” I actually kind of hate the thought of doing so.” 

You stopped for a moment, gaze becoming fixated on a group of friends that had blankets spread out in the grass and were having a picnic not that far away from you, and then you looked at a couple that was walking down one of the paths holding hands. 

After taking a quick breath, you kept going. “You’re so important to me, and our friendship is so important to me too… But I love you. I’m in love with you. And because of that, I can’t just be your friend. I want more, I want us to be something real; and that’s pretty much exactly what you said that night at my apartment almost a year ago. I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize just how fucking great we are together.”  

Your hand that wasn’t holding your phone to your ear began absentmindedly playing with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing; it was the Vancouver crewneck he got for you.

“I want us to have days like this past week forever. And I know that this week has kind of been a fluke because, for the first time in a really long time, our schedules worked out pretty well. But we can make this work. I know we can. I was an idiot to say that we don’t make sense before because we do. Yes, our lives pull us in pretty different directions most of the time, and it sucks, but it's okay because it doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it never will. And I think that's the most important thing. It's why I know we, us, can actually work.”  

You leaned back against the wooden bench and let out a breath. “Okay, wow, I’m so surprised that I haven’t been cut off yet… I’m currently sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and I got a bagel and coffee from the place you mentioned. I haven’t tried the bagel yet, but the coffee’s pretty good…” You trailed off with a shake of your head and then laughed a bit. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that right now. Um, anyway, I’m gonna stop talking now, and I’ll see you back at the apartment later. Bye.” 

When you ended the call and pocketed your phone away, you felt an immediate weight lift off of your shoulders and you let out a contented sigh that turned into a small laugh. 

You waited for a second, though, waited for something that resembled dread or regret to suddenly hit you, but it never did. And that was what let you know that what you’d just done was fully the right thing to do. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours later, you still felt nothing but complete contentment with what you had done, leaving the minute and a half long voicemail that would, in fact, change everything. You wanted it to change everything. 

After responding to a handful of work emails and then enduring an hour-long phone call with one of the Producer’s of the soon-to-be filming documentary, you were in the kitchen searching for some sort of a snack to eat. However, hearing the sound of the front door opening halted your rummaging. 

“Hi,” You said, watching Steve enter the apartment and then close and lock the door behind him. 

He met your eyes almost immediately. “I really loved that voicemail.”

You smiled at him, at how quickly he wanted to address the elephant in the room before it really even had a chance to enter. “Yeah?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. I’m never deleting it.”

He looked so happy as he walked over to you where you were leaning against the kitchen island, and that look made your heart constrict in your chest. 

“I love you,” It didn’t feel the tiniest bit scary to say the words right to him, they just felt so honest and undeniable. Your voice was soft and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands immediately finding home in the hair at the nape. 

“Mm,” His eyes slipped shut as his arms circled around you, pulling you against him.  “Say it again.” 

Your mouth was right against his ear as you spoke. “I love you.” 

He hummed again and then pulled back a bit, his nose brushed against yours and his lips did the same. It was all so teasing, like he wanted to take his absolute time with kissing you. However, now it didn’t have to be slow or drawn out because none of this was going to abruptly end; there was no expiration date apart of this like the arrangement you had a year ago. 

“I love you too,” He said before finally slotting his lips against yours.  

There was so much expressed in the soft kiss. It completely felt like the beginning of something new, something better, rather than simply a continuation of what you two had. The kiss was so certain and sure and it only further confirmed to you that everything happening was right and good and perfect. This was what you had wanted from the moment the two of you made that pinky promise during the wrap party; the one where you both said that you wouldn’t let your friendship end. Technically, it wasn’t being broken. 

You pulled away when you started feeling lightheaded and you met Steve’s gaze as you allowed yourself to breathe for a bit. You were quiet for only a second. 

“This will work,” You whispered. 

Steve nodded and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it will.” 

The three simple words comforted you, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you savored the feel of them. For the first time, probably ever, your overthinking mind felt sated; it couldn’t find anything wrong about this moment. You finally felt like you could breathe so goddamn easy because there was nothing to truly worry about, and you found yourself wanting to cry at that feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you kissed Steve’s cheek and then his other one, and then his nose and forehead. 

“This is random, but I’m really, really glad that I was forced to be your assistant.” 

Steve laughed a bit at that. “Sometimes it doesn’t even really feel like that's where we started.” His hands found yours, intertwining them and giving them a light squeeze. “But, I’m so fucking glad that it was you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author’s note: i'm gonna miss these two<333 i hope yall enjoyed this series! its been a rollercoaster fr (a good one for the most part though lol) i might do lil blurbs for these two someday because i'm way too attached to them and i have some minor ideas of some things i'd wanna do involving them.... but that probably won't happen for a while because after somehow being able to put out chapters weekly for this i do in fact need a Break lmao but anyway thank you for reading and enjoying this series🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 23 Sneak Peek

“I was thinking…”

“Mh?” You hummed, buckling up the buckle on a pair of baby pink suede platform heels. They definitely weren’t Europe-appropriate, but you got a little sidetracked and with Harry encouraging you to try on everything you so much as looked at, it was easy to get distracted by anything that looked pretty.

“After your assignment is submitted Friday, why don’t we pack up your place and you can stay with me until we leave for our trip?”

“Harry I still have to study for two exams. As much as I love that idea, you don’t want me taking over your house.” You responded, standing up from the couch to test the comfort of the shoes. You stepped around them a little, walking to the closest mirror to have a look at them properly. “And I’m sure my parents would hate that I’m spending a week at yours instead of going home.”

“But you weren’t meant to go home at all, remember? Not until your exams were finished.” Harry coaxed, standing up from the couch to step behind you in the mirror and wrap his arms around your waist. You shivered slightly against him, still focusing on looking at the heels on your feet. “This time you’re close to home, close to Archie…” He hummed, sliding his nose up the side of your neck. This time you really shivered and your focus was taken completely away from your shoes. Not that you were thinking of buying them anyway. They were way too expensive but the allure of trying on Prada shoes alongside a man who already put aside a pair of sunglasses and a belt for himself was way too strong. “Close to me…” this time his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail right underneath your ear. 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, making Harry smirk at you in the mirror. Oh he had you now. Your body was becoming more pliant in his arms and you were leaning against him more and more with every passing second. 

“You could study during the day and have Archie keep you company then at night I could feed you and help you… relax,” his hand flattened against your belly, causing the bold rings on his fingers to twinkle in the lighting. You had a sudden craving for those fingers to be in your mouth or further down south where he actually could make you relax. 

“I’ll be studying all the time, Harry.” You weren’t sure why you were protesting it so much, not when the thought of a quick orgasm as your 15-minute study break sounded so delicious. 

“And I’ll be right there beside you, working or reading or providing you with a quick… study break. Whatever you need, hm.” He drawled, kissing your cheek. All you could do was nod because you were so fucking dazed and way too horny in the middle of a store you couldn’t afford. “Do you like the shoes?”

“What?” 

You didn’t even hear what he said.

“The shoes.” He tapped your belly, looking down at your feet. “Are they comfortable?”

“Oh…” You tried to snap out of it and stepped a little in place, feeling the shoes mould perfectly to your feet. God, why did you have to love something so expensive? “Yeah, they’re comfy but I don’t need them.”

“Nonsense. They’re baby pink, your favourite colour.” Harry grinned, pulling back to step in front of you instead. The fact that he called it ‘baby pink’ and not ‘light pink’ had you screaming on the inside. He grabbed onto one of your hands, holding it out between you. “Do a spin.”

You did as told and did a 360 spin for him, liking how your heights were a bit more even with the tall heel. Without saying anything more to you, he turned to the sales associate who was waiting patiently beside the couch Harry was just sitting on. “Do you have a matching bag to these? In a baby pink?”

“Yes, sir. We have a cross body and a shoulder bag.”

“Perfect. Bring them both, please.” Harry turned back to you, then suddenly whipped his head around to the woman before she could step away, “Oh, and please bring some sunglasses too. Anything you think might suit her. Thanks, love.”

“Harry, what are you doing?” You hissed, “I’m not buying anything.”

“No, I am. I like you in pink. Besides, isn’t a shoulder bag and sunglasses a necessity for a holiday?” He mused, squeezing your hips. “Let me spoil you, darling. For doing so well on your exams.”

“I haven’t even done them yet.” You blushed, protesting slightly while threading your fingers behind his neck. “You don’t have to buy me such expensive things, H. You’ve already gotten me so much today.”

“And? You deserve it.” Harry assured you, reaching forward to kiss you gently. The lipstick you applied before you left was almost gone by now. Harry could barely keep his hands off you and you didn’t really want him to. These quick, casual pecks and signs of affection meant so much more to you than anything he could buy. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, threading your fingers softly into the hair at the nape of his neck to kiss him again. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, baby.” He kissed you again and then sealed it with another quick peck before using his grip on your hips to turn you back towards the mirror. “Now tell me you don’t love the shoes. I know you can’t.”

It was store after store of shopping. You tried to keep things concise to the list you brought of things you wanted to get, but just like the Prada shoes… and bag… and sunglasses, you were both easily distracted. You had more fun dressing Harry up more than anything. Seeing him try on complete outfits you picked out for him just hit the spot for you. You loved it.

And it had nothing to do with him looking absolutely delicious in every fucking thing. You picked out a bit of a joke outfit in one of the ‘younger’ stores as Harry liked to call it, styling him in something more skater boy than his usual refined, delicious European style and he still looked hot as anything. 

Harry hated it of course, but he did like the graphic t-shirt and managed to style it in his own way with the pair of dress pants he had on. God, he was just so fucking hot. By the third men's store you brought him into, you were sweating. You couldn’t explain why it was such a turn-on to watch him open and close a curtain and show off different outfits or why a linen button-up much like everything else he has riled you up until you were clenching your thighs, but it just did. 

You finally truly understood why he liked buying you things so much. 

“Alright, last one then I need food. There’s a sushi train near here and I could demolish like twenty of those little plates.” Harry chuckled to himself and opened the door of the fitting room he was in. Upon revealing himself, your mouth properly dropped. 

It was another button-up style top but this time it was entirely made out of white crochet squares. The design was fine and perfect beyond perfect and had so many little holes throughout the design, that you could see slivers of skin everywhere. Then there was the obvious sliver of skin. The top three undone buttons that Harry had purposefully left open to expose his cross necklace and littered chest hairs. The tails of his swallows were peaking past the edges and with particular movements, the moth became more visible.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

[clownprincehoeshi]

PARALLEL HEARTS- CHAPTER 8

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams you imagined that you’ll meet your ult bias. But it seems that the universe really loves you this time. Will Jeon Jungkook notice you?

Pairing: fem reader x ?idol

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: for all chapters-Kissing-Nudity-Sex 18+-Stalking-Harrassment-Cheating-Death mentions Minors don’t interact!

Word count: 4704

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Don't forget rebloging is important and much apreciated! <3

Of course headache was your best friend the next day

Y/N: Fucking hell, I drank so much. Why did you let me do it? Some friends I have.

Hana: But it was really funny watching you drunk. And you’re a good drunk, fun, friendly, funny, clingy. Just like someone else I know.

Y/N: Shut uuup! I need water and pills.

Hana: Let’s get out of bed first, drink water, take something for the headache and get ready. We’re having breakfast out. I know a new cute place that opened.

Y/N: Damn, are you like a city tour guide but for places you can eat and hang out? I never ever in my life had went out this much as I have since I met you.

Hana: You love it though, even if you’re such an introvert.

Y/N: Hehe, you caught me.

You two were out in no time, holding hands and walking quietly towards the breakfast place.

When you got there, everything was in shades of pink and white. Really cute, you thought. You ordered some delicious sandwiches and pancakes, along with some cocoa-milk.

Y/N: Am I in heaven now? What is going on, how did I die?

Hana: It’s so good, right?

Y/N: Huh! Yah-huh. It’s so ridiculous. I need to bring the guys here.

Hana: You know, I was thinking that I miss the ’97 crew get together and we all know what happened and how we kind of stopped doing our regular dinners. I really miss hanging out with my cousin like that and it’s the only time when I get to see him, with him being so busy. SO..

Y/H: Babe, you can meet them if you want, I don’t mind.

Hana: What if JK or Mingyu are there? I really don’t want to speak to them, especially fucking Jungkook.

Y/N: Well, I don’t know. I guess you can just ignore him? And you can be friendly with Gyu, he’s not horrible. And the rest of the guys are all right.

Hana: You think JK and Mingyu talk?

Y/N: Not sure. Last time I saw them, they were not on good terms, and Gyu thinks JK is my stalker. But you never know, they were really good friends before I showed up.

Hana: Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll see, I will come with gossip though.

Y/N: Come on, let’s head home. Tomorrow we’ll have a really busy day at work with all those meetings and planning.

Hana: I really think they’ll announce we got the Seventeen project.

Y/N: I don’t know if I’m excited about it.

Next day comes around and it was like Hana said. Your company got the new Seventeen project. You’ll be working close with them for their new album and world tour. One whole year of touring all over the world, wow. They gotten really big.

Hana: Look, they have a bunch of concerts in Europe. We should definitely go to some. We might need to be there with the staff anyways for the stage, settings and styling. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?

Y/N: I mean… I guess. I would see him too much for my liking, but things maybe will be better by then. The company will sure send a team to some of the venues for sure.

This was unexpected. You knew how things worked in this business. If you worked with an artist and they had concerts, your company needed to send people there. At least I’ll travel.

Weeks of intensive work followed. Planning and preparations, filming, shootings. Mingyu came back from his hiatus and when you met on the set or in meetings you kept it short and civilised.

They had their comeback now and album promotions. Some tv shows here and there, some live performances. You were there with your team for most of them. Tour was right around the corner and you felt pretty excited.

You, Hana and 3 other people from your company were supposed to be with the group in most of the locations. You never travelled so much and you couldn’t wait for it. All those cities, all that culture and history. You were always fascinated by it.

The day of the departure was here. You woke up at 2 am to get ready. You had 2 big suitcases filled with clothes and personal stuff. You made yourself look pretty and presentable, you will be flying together with the members and some of the staff.

Most of the other staff were already at the location. First stop, L.A. You’ve never been to the US and you were shitting your pants right now.

The airport was crazy, filled with fans, photographs, journalists, staff, suitcases on top of suitcases. This was crazy.

The company finally got a private plane for the boys, they became too successful now and they really need privacy more than ever. No more crazy fans stalking them into their flights wherever they went.

Plane took off and in no time the crew brought breakfast for everyone. You sat next to Hana and in front of you were Jun and Minghao.

Jun: Well this is going to be a long ass flight, so we should eat and sleep.

Minghao: You’re always sleeping.

Y/N: He’s a cat, of course he sleeps a lot.

Minghao: BTW, Y/N, I am really happy to have you with us on this tour.

Y/N: Oh? Why?

Minghao: You’re the only one that doesn’t get shy when I flirt with them.

Y/N: You don’t know that, maybe I get shy but I hide it really well.

Minghao: Naaahh, I know you. Not even a small blush on your cheeks and you never fluster, you always have a comeback. I like you.

Jun: Whoah, what the hell man? You trying to seduce my bestie right in front of my croissant?

You all started my laugh at Jun’s face, he was stuffing his mouth with croissants, barely able to form coherent words, crumbs falling in the air.

You could see Mingyu over Jun’s shoulder, looking your way. He was smiling, but his eyes were sad. You thought your feelings for him were not as strong. You were even sure you were not in love with him anymore, you were not feeling sad when you saw him now. You were not feeling that punch in your stomach, knowing he was not yours anymore.

Finally, things felt normal. And you thought Jungkook moved on too, since the stalking ended. No weird messages or phone calls in the middle of the night, no more dark shadows following you. Things were good.

Things were really good.

Minghao: So how’s your love life lately, Y/N?

Y/N: You trying to make me choke on my food?

Minghao: Why? That bad?

Y/N: Let’s say I am content with being single for the rest of my life.

Jun: See what I mean? She acts like an old fart and she’s not even 30 yet. I keep telling her that love will hit her in the face so hard she won’t be able to say no.

Minghao: Come ooon Y/N! Why are you being so stubborn?

Y/N: Why Hao. Might you have a proposal for me? You like me, like me? You wanna wine and dine me?

Minghao: I would if I were single.

Y/N: You have a girlfriend?

Minghao: Yeah, it’s recent. We’re trying to see if we’re compatible, not rushing anything.

Y/N: Awww, that’s sweet, I’m happy for you, really.

Minghao: And here I thought you wanted to date me.

Hana: Hahaha, no. She loves to flirt, plus she likes someone else.

All 3 of you looked at her in shock, as if you saw a ghost.

Jun: What did you just say?

Y/N: How much did you drink already?

Out of nowhere, Seungkwan appeared.

Seungkwan: Who likes who? I need to know.

Jun: I can’t believe you have been keeping a crush secret from me? You bestie?

Hana: She won’t admit it. But I know. I see everything.

Seungkwan: Y/N! Please, you need to tell us. Do we know the guy? Is he cute?

You rolled your eyes at all of this. Everyone curious, asking questions. DK came too, also curious about your crush. You could also see Vernon looking at you, waiting to hear a name.

But most of all, you could see Mingyu looking right into your soul. He looked so disappointed, no more smile on his face, just all seriousness.

You felt small and ashamed. If you liked someone, it shouldn’t be anyone else’s business. And your ex should not be present at this conversation.

In fact, you don’t even know if you like that person or not. You promised yourself you won’t fall in love again, that you’re done with men.

You don’t know what you feel and you surely don’t want to talk about it.

Scoups: What’s going on, why all the fuss there?

DK: Y/N has a crush and she won’t say his name!!!

You saw Mingyu standing up, heading towards the restrooms. And while walking he said: Come on, guys, you’re being annoying. If she wants to tell you who it is, she will. Now leave her be!

You covered your face with both hands, making yourself small in your chair. Thank heavens for Kim Mingyu who rescued you once again. You start to think he might be an angel.

Minghao: Mingyu is right, we’re making her uncomfortable.

Hana: Oh! My bad, I thought it will be funny.

And she wraps her arms around you to apologise. Yup, she’s drunk, you can feel the soju from a mile.

Jun: Let’s go, Y/N, finish your food. You barely touched it. And we’ll talk later, ok?

He takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, along with a bright smile.

Y/N: You always know what to say, Juni.

You get back to your eggs and avocado and while lifting your glass to drink some water, you slowly move your head to your left and you see a very zoned out Hoshi looking at you.

You choke on the water straight away and start coughing. Hana part you on the back and asks if you’re ok, which you nod yes.

After everyone finished with their food, was time to sleep. All lights were turned off, seats reclined. You grabbed your blanket and tried to get some rest. Whenever you heard noises or people walking by, you opened your eyes. And every time you did that, you could see Mingyu looking at you.

Why is he doing this? Just go to sleep, let me be. I don’t want to remember stuff and don’t want to feel something for him again. I know that look, I know what he’s doing.

So your turn on your side to not have him in your line of vision anymore. But now you’re faced with a really adorable human hamster that’s asleep. Those puffy cheeks and that pretty pout makes you smile.

Mingyu catches that and it makes him sad, seeing he’s not the one that makes you smile like that. You’re a fool, Kim Mingyu. Someone will take her from you for good, and that might happen faster than you think.

This flight felt like a week. You couldn’t wait to get to your destination and get to work, to get your mind away from…stuff.

After the landing, the staff got out first, and went towards the exit and the company cars that were waiting. The members got out last and received a mini bus for their ride to the hotel.

The company had rented a few floors of the hotel and brough extra security. No strangers were allowed to get to the floor where you were all staying.

The rest of the day was for a quick meeting with everyone to let them know the schedule for tomorrow, then free time. Jun texted you after the meeting.

Jun: Hey, pookie! Let’s have some takeout in Hoshi’s room in one hour. He’ll order some Japanese and Italian, we’ll have plenty of food. Bring Hana too. Room 504.

Y/N: Ok, Juni.

Y/H: Wife, we’re having dinner with the guys in one hour.

Hana: Ok, I’ll get out from the shower in 10.

Ou rush to pick some cute comfy clothes to wear. Hana come out of the shower and sees you’re trying to pick an outfit. You already have a pair or sweatpants and a t shirt.

Hana: Girl, no! You want to be sexy too, not just homeless. Keep the pants, take this deep neck top. He’ll drool.

Y/N: Who?

Hana stops and looks at you straight in the eyes.

Hana: Drop the act. I know and you know who I’m talking about. You like him.

Y/N: No I don’t!

Hana: Just wear this and shut up. And if you don’t wanna tell me right now fine, but you will speak soon.

You try to drop the conversation, you really just wanna focus on work while on this tour, not on boys.

One hour later you’re in Hoshi’s room. There’s also Jun, Hao, Wonu and Joshua.

Hoshi: We have cola, soju and beer. What do you girls want?

Hana: We’ll have soju and beer.

You sit at the big table that they moved in the middle of the room and grab a plate. Jun tells you to try some pasta, because it seems it’s delicious and you love pasta.

When you take your look away from Jun and look at your plate, Hoshi is putting some pasta on it, along with some sushi.

Y/N: Oh..thanks.

He lifts his face and gives you a bright smile, smiling with his whole face.

The food is really good and the soju goes smoothly with it. You feel a little tipsy. You see Joshua with red cheeks, he must be a bit drunk already. Hana is getting there too.

Hana leans in to whisper into your ear: Damn, how are all these guys so freaking hot? How do you do it? Now falling for one of them each day.

Y/N: Keep your voice down, silly, and stop perving.

Hana: OK, but I only promise I won’t perv over your man.

You pinch her thigh and she squeaks loud, making you laugh at the funny sound.

Joshua: What are you girls whispering there? Are you talking about boys?

Hana: In fact, yes. We are.

Joshua: Uuuhh, do tell. I love me some boys gossip from my girls.

Y/N: Hana, stop it, they don’t need to know every thought that’s going trough your mind when you’re drunk, and btw, have you been drunk all day?

Joshua: I know! Let’s play a game!

Hana: Yeeeeeesss!

Wonu: What game, Shua?

Joshua: Ok, it’s important we keep it real and honest, ok? So we take turns, I will ask the person on my right a question. They can answer or they need to take a shot.

Wonu: Ok, let’s do it. I have nothing to hide.

Hoshi: Sure, why not.

Joshua: Ok, I will start then. Hao, are you in love with your girlfriend?

Hao: Umm…not yet. But getting there, me thinks. Wonu, what’s the most annoying thing your roommate Mingyu did in your apartment?

Wonu: Ugh, don’t get me started. He’s always so clumsy, but one time he dropped my phone inside his soup bowl.

Josua: Ok, we’re on a good track here, but let’s keep it interesting, yeah? Wonu, your turn.

Wonu: Hoshi, when are you going to tell your crush you like her?

All it can be heard is “whaat” and “uh”.

Minghao: Well now this is news. Since when and why didn’t I know?

Hoshi: Guys, it’s nothing. Wonu is exaggerating.

Wonu: But answer the question though!

Hoshi looks at his hands, then yells all of a sudden: I don’t know, ok?

Joshua: Omg, my little brother likes a girl. I’m happy, Hosh, about time. It’s been so long since…you know.

Hoshi: Yeah yeah, let’s move on. Jun, have you ever thought about being more than friends with Y/N?

Jun looks at him scandalised, opens his mouth in the shape of O and puts his hand over his chest.

Jun: My God, that’s so inappropriate to think about my sister. My bestie. Nooo. Buuut, we made a pact that if when we’re 40 and single, we’ll just marry each other. Now my dear friend Y/N, light of my eyes, kimchi in my rice. I have a really really important question for you.Do I know your crush?

Y/N: Why is everyone so obsessed about my love life?

Minghao: You have a love life?

Y/N: No.

Jun: Come on, bestie, tell me. Or you wanna drink?

Joshua: Let me voice my opinion here. After much thinking, I came to the conclusion that if you drink, it means Jun knows your crush. So either way, it’s better to answer.

Y/N: What a nice guy are you, Josh.

Joshua gives the biggest closed mouth smile ever, he knows he caught you.

Y/N: Ok, Jun. You know the guy. Happy now?

Jun: Yes and no, because now I am fucking curious.

Hana: Let’s continue the game, I wanna play too.

Y/N: Hana, do you like any guy from this room?

Hana: Fuck, am I allowed to say I like all of them?

Joshua: You say what you want, boo.

Hana: Awww Joshua called me boo. Now Josh, are you maybe looking for a girlfriend?

Everyone started laughing at how obviously flirty Hana was with Josh.

Wonu: What about the rest of us, Hana? You forgot us so fast?

Hana: Oh, sorry, Wonu. I can have more than one boyfriend. Nobody is left behind.

You get up on your feet and announce you feel sleepy and will head out to your room and you probably need to drag Hana with you, since she’s too drunk.

Also, you’re afraid of more of these questions that you don’t want to answer and also you don’t want to drink yourself under the table.

You said good night to the guys and headed to your room you shared with Hana. You decided you’re both to drunk to shower, so you changed into pj’s and got into bed. You’ll shower in the morning.

Next day you had breakfast in the room and then you were ready for work.

You needed to be at the stadium where they will perform for 2 days in a row. The set needed to be perfect. Meanwhile, the boys have the net 2 days packed with shootings and live shows and interviews.

2 shows down, 4 more to go in the US, then off to Brazil and Argentina. Days were passing really fast, since work meant around 10 hours a day. You got to spend time with the guys rarely, everyone was tired at the end of the day and wanted to just relax in bed and sleep.

You had a little break once in Europe. You arrived in Spain first and most of the members and staff decided to spend their one week break here. The weather was perfect and you had beach.

It was your first time in this country and you just wanted to see the architecture, the art, taste the food and visit some national parks and wildlife.

You were with Jun the night when you arrived in Barcelona and you were trying to decide your week plan, while taking a walk to the beach that was close to the hotel.

Jun: I think we should stick together. At least the two of us and probably Hana won’t want to leave you and go with someone else.

Y/N: True. But who else will join us?

Jun: I think Hao will chose to stay in the city and do nothing, he wants to chill. Jeonghan probably the same. Dk and Wonu I am sure they said they wanna visit the city and take photos. Mingyu might join them, don’t know. Woozi will probably stay inside most of the time, he’s really tired. Vernon for sure will come with us, he likes to learn new stuff. Are you brother and sister?

Y/N: We might be. Ok, so we are 4 so far.

Jun: I’ll ask the others tonight and will let the managers know how many we will be for the little excursion, because we will need a van or minibus. Take some clothes with you and stuff you need for a few days.

In the morning, you take your little suitcase and rush for the elevator. Hana is already in the minibus in front of the hotel. When you enter the bus, all the chairs are filled, except one in the back.

Hoshi: Here, I saved the seat for you!

He gets up to help you with your luggage and then you sit down. Today you’re going to a remote beach in a small village. You’ll visit wineries, olive trees and will rent a house on the beach and spend the next 2 days there.

You see Hoshi barely keeping his eyes open, he must be very tired.

Y/N: Here, use my pillow and you can lay down here, our seats are wide enough. I’ll put the pillow in my lap, ok?

Hoshi: Really? Would you do that for me?

Y/N: Of course, why wouldn’t I?

He just shrugs and puts his head on the pillow in your lap and tried to sleep. The drive will take around 2 hours.

He falls asleep quite fast. Meanwhile, you don’t know what to do with your hands. Should you put them over his shoulder? You look at his face and he looks so peaceful and so pretty and your right hand goes to move a strand of hair off his face. Then you keep it over his head, petting him gently.

Your left arm goes over his shoulder, kind of like keeping him safe. It feels nice, you admit to yourself. You see Jun turning his face over his shoulder to look at you and his eyes go big at the scene.

He looks at you for a few moments and then he nods with a serious look on his face. What does he mean with that? This guy is weird, I swear.

You had fallen asleep too, you can just sleep anywhere, anytime and in any position. When you wake up, your arm is wrapped around Hoshi’s torso, he’s laying on his back now. His both hands are holding onto your arm for dear life.

You decide to wake him up since you heard the other say you’re going to arrive in 10 minutes.

Y/N: Soonyoungie!

You whisper softly close to his face.

He whines a little, not wanting to wake up.

Y/N: Come on, Soony, it’s time to wake up. We are almost there.

He pouts, eyes still closed.

Hoshi: But it’s so nice here.

Y/N: Yeah, that’s why you need to wake up to admire the view.

Hoshi: Here. It’s nice here.

He says, as he pulls on your arm tighter around him.

Oh.

Is he saying it’s nice here with me? Like this?

Then he opens his eyes and looks at you, smiling so adorably. In seconds, he lifts himself from your lap, thanking for letting him sleep and taking care of him.

He really left you speechless, and this is not something that ever happened with him. You don’t know what to say, it’s like the cat got your tongue. You just stare at him.

Hoshi: What? Do I have sleep marks on my face?

Y/N: NO, it’s nothing.

You really needed to move your eyes away from that adorable face so you opted to look over the windows and admire the scenery outside.

You reached a small road between olive trees and you could see a white house at the end. You got off the car, took your suitcases and went inside.

Driver: This is a family house we rent to tourists. Has 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, pool in the backyard, garden, a big grill, everything you need. You reach the beach with 10 steps. The sunrise is really beautiful here. See you in 2 days!

It was easy to reach anywhere in the village, it was small and you would just walk for a few minutes.

Seungkwan: Let’s choose the rooms. We are 7, and we have 4 rooms. One person will sleep alone. Any takers?

Jun: Yes, please!

Seungkwan: I guess the girls will have one room and they can choose first. The boys will play rock paper scissors like usual. I’ll share a room with Vernoni

Joshua: And that leaves me and my bro Hosh. Nice!

You and Hana choose the pretties room that has a beach view. You go to inspect the property and you see they even have some gym equipment, a big ass tv in the living room, and outside they have a veggie garden.

You open the gate that takes you to the beach and start walking towards it. It’s been a while since you’ve had your feet in the sand.

You think it’s beautiful and you think Hao would have loved it here, for his meditation and tea ceremony.

You hear steps behind and Jun’s voice.

Jun: There you are. Wow, isn’t this place paradise? It’s just your style.

Y/N: You’re right, it’s how I would live forever. I feel so happy now that I could cry.

You sit there on the sand for a few minutes, listening to the waves and the birds.

Jun: He’s the best guy I know.

You look at him confused, trying to figure out who is he talking about. But then you know.

Y/N: Why are you telling me this?

Jun: You know why. You have doubts. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s something. But it’s better to let it be something than to regret it after it can’t be anything. You don’t need to push yourself to feel or to act on it. Just let it happen. If it will happen. But. He really is the best, in case you had doubts about that. He’s genuine, honest, kind and passionate. If something is to happen, know that he has a lot of love to give. Maybe too much, and it can overwhelm the wrong person. He's been trough some shit with his ex, since then he just shut himself just like you. But I see something there.

You look at Jun and he can see your eyes are glassy. He just leans over and hugs you.

Jun: It’s going to be ok, you’ll see.

Y/N: What if it’s not?

Jun: Then I’ll still be here for you to help you get up. That’s what we do, always try.

Y/N: I love you, you’re the best!

Jun: Love you too! Let’s go inside, they started cooking, I think it might even be ready by now.

Reaching the house, everyone is doing something to help with the cooking or setting up the table.

Y/N: Where is Vernon?

Joshua: He might be sleeping.

Seungkwan: Yeah, he went upstairs to the bedroom.

Y/N: What are you guys making?

Johua: We are making some kimchi fried rice and we also have some pork belly.

Y/N: Ok, I’ll make some salad.

You go into the garden to pick up some veggies for your salad. On your way there you bump into Hoshi and he stops and looks at you suspiciously.

Hoshi: Have you been crying?

Y/N: Why?

Hoshi: Your eyes are red and glassy. Are you ok?

Y/N: I’m fine, just had a chat with Jun at the beach.

Hoshi: Did he say something to upset you?

Y/N: Nooo. Do you know Jun? ha!

He comes closer and hugs you. He hugs you so tight that it feels like you’ll stick like that forever. It’s like he knew what you needed. A hug.

And you wrap your arms around him and hug him back. You stay there for a minute, until you realise where you are and what you’re doing and you pull away.

Hoshi: Where were you going?

Y/N: To pick up veggies from the garden.

Hoshi: Ok, I am in charge of the grill. You’ll be ok, yeah?

You nod and you walk towards the garden with your heart beating 1000 miles/hour.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <333

27. An End to That Debate

The officers’ club was quiet. A rare few days of peace had fallen on Thorpe Abbotts in the lull following the intense, though successful, invasion of Europe. As something of a reward for their hard work during the first week of June, most everyone on base had the evening off. Most were spending the time in the village or in London - Jem and Paddy had managed to book a hotel room in London which promised to be discreet. They’d been sharing grins all week in anticipation of their first bit of proper privacy. Freddie couldn’t believe she ever hadn’t noticed they were in love.

Freddie and Croz still had work to do on base, so while they had the evening off they couldn’t veer too far away. But, as Rosie had rightly pointed out, if everyone had scattered off base then they’d have an unprecedented level of privacy, anyway. They may as well stay here - they’d have the whole base to themselves, or close enough.

No one was working the bar but between two majors and a wing officer they’d managed to secure the key and permission to stay in here as long as they liked as long as they remembered to lock up afterwards. Rosie and Croz had dragged the only four leather armchairs in the entire room, usually monopolised by some high ranking officer who had gotten into the club early, around a table close to the bar. They had already made up some drinks - three beers and a glass of white wine - by the time Freddie, Millie, and Meatball showed up.

Millie, for all intents and purposes, also could have been off base right now, but Freddie knew she hated the idea of having a hotel room to herself while most of her friends shared with their lovers. Emma was with her RAF officer, Cecelia with her pilot boyfriend from another base, and while she could have stuck with Amy, Amy was undoubtedly going to end up in some man or other’s hotel room tonight, so she’d decided to hang back.

Freddie was glad to have her around, in any case. With the increased workload before D-Day she felt they’d barely seen each other recently.

All of the main lights in the club were on but there was a moody feel to the place with no one else here. Freddie was sure it had never been so empty. Warm light spilled over the centre of the room but hid from the corners, leaving the walls dark. With the absence of windows, it might have been one in the morning instead of six in the evening, though the officers’ club did often tend to have that disorientating effect.

Rosie and Croz were chatting idly as Millie approached the table with Meatball while Freddie went behind the bar to put some water in Meatball’s water bowl, which she’d brought along with her.

When she returned, full water bowl in hand, Rosie grinned and stood to greet her. He stood back to let her lay the bowl on the floor for Meatball, who immediately went over to have a drink, then stepped over to her and tucked his arm around her waist. “Hi, honey,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Hi, sweetness,” Freddie replied, kissing his cheek back. She sat in the armchair he pulled out for her and took a sip of her wine, patting the empty space beside her for Meatball when he approached, water still dripping out of the sides of his mouth, and snuggling into him when he jumped up to sit beside her.

“We brought letters,” Millie declared once everyone was resettled in their chairs. She held up the few letters she’d carried, showing them off with a flourish and grinning. Receiving letters from Brady always made her giddy for days afterwards.

“Oh yeah?” Croz asked. “Who from?”

“John, Benny, and a general letter from the boys in the POW camp addressed to all of us,” Millie replied. “Which first?”

“Do you want to read Brady’s first, Mils?” Freddie asked, running gentle hands up and down Meatball’s back.

Millie considered this around a sip of beer before shaking her head. “I’ll read it to myself first, to make sure it’s appropriate to be read aloud.”

Freddie snorted a laugh while Croz smirked.

“You read Benny’s first,” Millie decided. “Meatball will be glad to hear from him, I think.” She rifled through the envelopes before producing the one from Benny, reaching across the short distance between their chairs to hand it to Freddie.

Carefully tearing open the envelope, Freddie drew out the letter and showed it to Meatball, letting him smell it until he sat up straighter and barked. He must have been able to detect the hints of Benny’s scent remaining on it even after weeks in transit.

Freddie laughed, kissing his head. “Are you ready to hear from your daddy?” she asked him. “He’s got lots to say to you.”

Meatball nuzzled his head into Freddie’s side and she laughed as she prepared to read. “Dear Freddie, Meatball, and everyone else.”

Millie scoffed.

Freddie grinned and continued reading. “Things aren’t so bad now the weather’s getting warmer. Chow’s terrible but the barracks are warm which makes it easier to sleep. Thanks for sending those pictures - I’ve got them pinned up beside my bunk. Meatball looks happy, which is nice to see. I’m glad you’re taking good care of him.

“How is it back at base? How are Croz, Ev, and Douglass? What are the new guys like? I bet everyone’s forgotten about all the old guys now, apart from you guys who were there when we were. It seems crazy to me that life on base is carrying on as it always did when we’re all stuck here and have been for so long.

“Anyway, life isn’t so bad. We’re all hoping there’ll be a change in our fortunes this summer. I know you can’t say anything about it but that’s what we’re hoping for.

“Thanks for the chocolate you sent last time as well. Do you think you could send a little more? The guys were like goddamn vultures last time so we only got a little each. Don’t worry if you can’t, with the rationing and all.

“Anyway, that’s about everything I’ve got to report. Days are long and they’re all the same but we’re all getting by just fine. Send Meatball my love, alright? Give him extra snacks after dinner from me. 

“With love to you all, Benny.”

Freddie smiled as she lowered the letter and pulled Meatball to her to hug him tight. “See, buddy?” she said to him. “He misses you too.”

“Fred, don’t, because I’ll actually cry,” Millie said.

Freddie laughed, looking up to find Millie misty-eyed and trying desperately not to smudge her makeup while Croz squeezed her knee reassuringly. 

“What did Brady say?” Freddie asked, inclining her head towards the letter Millie had quickly skimmed while Freddie was reading aloud Benny’s. “Anything appropriate for outside ears?”

Millie laughed, watery but happy, and scanned the letter again. “You can hear the first half,” she decided, giggling.

Croz pulled a face. “I do not wanna know what sort of depraved love letters Brady’s been writing you, Mils.”

Millie swatted at him with the letter. “They’re not depraved, they’re romantic! We’ve been apart for almost an entire year now, Croz, give us a break!”

Freddie grinned. “I’d be more interested to know what sort of depraved love letters Millie’s been sending back,” she said to Croz, who promptly laughed loudly.

“As if you and Rosie wouldn’t send utter filth to each other if he ever became a POW!” Millie exclaimed.

“Now, hold on a second,” Rosie cut in, sitting up straight in his chair.

“Read the letter, Mils!” Freddie cut across him, laughing. “The appropriate half, at least!”

“No!” Millie protested. “Now you’ve made me embarrassed.”

“Aw, Mils,” Freddie teased.

“No, come on, we’ll be serious,” Croz vowed, holding a hand to his heart. “We swear. Don’t we, Rosie?”

“We swear,” Rosie agreed, pressing his own hand to his heart and nodding seriously.

Freddie laughed at them both. Millie rolled her eyes.

“My darling Mils,” she began reading aloud.

“Aw!” Freddie exclaimed.

“Fred,” Croz said, giving her a look.

Freddie nodded, accepting this reprimand, sitting back further into her seat and wrapping her arms around Meatball.

“I miss you everyday,” Millie continued to read, so absorbed in her letter even though she’d already once read it she was no longer paying attention to the rest of the room. “I have all the pictures you’ve been sending taped to the wall beside my bed, so you’re the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. One day, I hope I’ll get to say the same, but have the version of you I’m waking up with be the real one, not the one caught in snapshots, gorgeous though they are.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, sorry to hear you’re missing me almost as much as I’m missing you. I know you say you miss me more but that’s impossible, darling. And you certainly don’t love me more, either, so let’s put an end to that debate right here and now.

“Mils, my darling, my sweetest love, I miss you so, so very much. Thinking of you and the life I hope you’ll let me make for you after the war is the only thing that gets me through the days. It’s not so bad anymore now that summer’s coming but it’s been almost an entire year and I feel as though I’m rotting away in an early grave over here.

“Although, better to rot here in an early grave than in the ground in a real one. Whenever I catch myself thinking these thoughts I remind myself of Fred and her lost love and how easy it is for couples like us to be split apart permanently. This, though almost unbearable as each day passes and brings me no closer to you, is not permanent, my love. I’m coming home to you. Soon, I hope.”

Millie stopped there, with tears streaming down her face, shrugging. “The next part is all inappropriate,” she supplied, wiping away her tears with a few watery giggles.

Freddie smiled, rising from her chair and skirting around the table to squeeze into Millie’s with her. She wrapped her arms around her and rested her head on top of Millie’s when she tucked her face into her shoulder to cry.

“I’m okay,” Millie spoke into Freddie’s jacket. “These are mostly happy tears, I promise. I just miss him really, really badly.”

Freddie smiled, shutting her eyes as she curled herself around Millie protectively. “Cry as long as you like. We’ve got time.”

Millie settled down before long but Freddie remained where she was, tucked snugly into the chair beside her, and they carried on reading the letters they’d received from the boys. Once finished, Rosie refilled everyone’s drinks and they sat around chatting about mindless things, everyday things. It was nice to think about something other than D-Day - for Croz more than anyone else, Freddie was sure. He’d slept through the entire affair after staying up so long and working so consistently that he’d passed out right there in the air exec office. His little stunt had granted him a first-class ticket for a staycation in the infirmary and he had been nothing short of furious to have missed the biggest invasion in military history - the very invasion that had landed him there in the first place.

“What do you write about in your letters home, Rosie?” Millie wondered slyly after a lull in the conversation. “Does your family know about our Fred?”

Rosie laughed, though he tried to hide it into a gulp of his beer. When Freddie looked at Croz he was doing the same.

She sat up straighter, as straight as she could when sandwiched into the chair with Millie. “Rosie,” she said warily, “what have you told them?”

“Nothing bad,” Rosie jumped to reassure her. “Just - well, you’re basically all I write about. I didn’t wanna worry anyone so I didn’t - well, I haven’t actually told them yet that I’m a combat pilot. They think I’m still an instructor.”

“What?!” Millie exclaimed.

“Oh my god,” Freddie mumbled, leaning back into the chair and covering her eyes with her hand.

Croz was all but cackling in the seat next to them.

“Rosie!” Millie berated him.

He held his hands up in surrender. “I know! I shouldn’t lie! But - just, the thought of my ma all the way across the ocean worrying about me, and I can’t reassure her after every mission that I’m fine.” He shook his head resolutely. “I can’t do that to her. It’s better this way.”

He was making Freddie’s heart ache, out of equal parts affection for him and fear.

Millie brushed his explanation aside. “So what have you told her about Freddie?”

Freddie cringed. “I don’t think I want to know, much less want it announced to everyone, thanks, Mils.”

“You just made me read out what John says to me!”

“You did that willingly!”

“My ma told me in her last letter she feels like she knows Fred personally with all the information she has about her,” Rosie cut in diplomatically. “She said she feels like she met her right along with me last August. That’s as much detail as I’ll give you, Mils.”

Freddie’s cheeks were on fire.

“You’ve been giving her details?” Millie said.

Freddie cringed before Millie said what she was about to, because she knew what it was going to be.

“Not about all the filthy sex you have in your plane, I hope.”

“Millicent Harlow!” Freddie cried, because that was worse than she’d been expecting. “What a thing to say!”

Croz, beside them, was still cackling.

Rosie had slouched all the way down in his seat, shaking his head with one hand shielding his eyes. His prominent bright red blush must have been burning hot.

Millie simply scoffed. “Oh, come on, Fred, we all know where you disappear off to every night. I just feel sorry for Rosie’s crew, having to climb in there every mission.”

“You are so crude!” Freddie exclaimed. She rose from her perch and crossed back to her own chair, sitting back down with Meatball, so embarrassed she could hardly articulate it.

“Aw, come on, Fred, we’re all friends here!” Millie teased. “Besides, if we’re going to talk about filthy letters, I’d rather like to know what Croz, here, has been writing to his wife. He is the only one among us who is legally allowed to have sex, after all.”

Croz let out a sharp, shocked laugh, reaching for his beer and gulping it down just to give himself something to do as he considered his response. “Whatever I write to my wife is between me and her, Mils,” he said eventually, then sipped from his beer again. He shook his head at her. “You really are a piece of work, you know that?”

“John told me often enough back when we despised each other,” Millie replied agreeably.

“Have you seen a photo of Croz’s wife, Rosie?” Freddie chimed in. “She’s very pretty.”

“Show him!” Millie ordered Croz.

“I’ve already shown him!” Croz insisted.

“Well, show him again!”

“Alright! Fine!”

Withdrawing his wallet, Croz drew out a photo of his wife, Jean, and handed it across the table to Rosie with palpable awkwardness.

Rosie nodded as he looked at it. “She’s beautiful, Croz.”

“I’m a lucky man,” Croz agreed.

Freddie’s eyes were narrowed as she looked between them. There was something strange happening here. She determined that she would ask Rosie about it later when they finally got their privacy.

“Do you have a picture of Fred, Rosie?” Millie asked as she watched Rosie hand the photo back to Croz.

He nodded. “I tuck it into the controls before every flight. Carry it in my front pocket when I’m not flying.” As though to prove his point, he unzipped the inside pocket of his leather A-2 jacket and produced a photo Freddie didn’t recognise. “Her dad gave it to me over Christmas.”

Freddie was blushing as Millie and Croz looked at the photo between them. Millie was grinning. “It’s a beautiful shot, Fred.”

Freddie shrugged. “I’ve never seen it.”

Croz grinned at her sidelong and handed the photo over once he and Millie were finished with it.

And, Freddie found, it was rather a nice photo. It had been taken the Christmas before she met Rosie, Christmas 1942, when she’d still been so very fragile over Daniel, only her second Christmas without him. In the photo she was sitting on the floor of her living room, leaning back against the piano, with Bruno curled up at her side and Earnie in her arms as she laughed softly at something someone out of the shot had said. Her hair was perfectly curled and styled, her red dress flattering and brand new at the time. She remembered crying off the makeup she’d spent so long putting on the instant her mother had closed the door behind Daniel’s parents, remembered her curls being ruined as her mother held them back out of her face while she threw up into the toilet.

She didn’t even remember the photo being taken, but she remembered sitting on the floor with her dogs. They were the only thing that had brought her any joy that year.

“I always think that’s the truest version of you, Fred,” Rosie said softly as she took the photo in. “At home, with your dogs and the piano. It’s a really beautiful picture.”

Freddie smiled as she handed it back to him, longing to go and curl up in his lap but knowing there would be a time and a place for that later.

“Will the dogs be coming with you when you move to Brooklyn after the war, Fred?” Croz asked while Rosie tucked the photo safely back into his pocket.

Laughing a little bit, Freddie shook her head. “No, because I’m not moving to Brooklyn. We’ll be living in Oxford after the war, won’t we, Rosie?”

Rosie was looking at her with an expression she didn’t quite recognise. “What?”

Freddie furrowed her eyebrows as she looked back at him. “After the war. You do want to stay with me after the war, don’t you?” Now she was sitting up straighter, worried she’d misread this whole thing.

“What? No, of course we’re staying together after the war, Fred,” Rosie replied hastily. “I just - why are you assuming we’ll live in Oxford? We’ve never talked about it.”

Freddie tilted her head to one side. “But we’ve talked around it. A garden with flowers and a living room with a piano. You said you grew up in an apartment in Brooklyn so I just assumed that when we talked about those things we were talking about Oxford.”

“We can get a house in Brooklyn,” Rosie countered. “Just ‘cause I grew up in an apartment doesn’t mean everyone lives in one. Lawyers make more money than my parents did when I was growing up.”

“Wait,” Freddie said, leaning over the arm of her chair to look him better in the eyes, “you think we’re going to New York?”

“No,” Rosie replied steadily, “because we ain’t talked about it yet. I’m not gonna assume things and make executive decisions for the both of us without talking to you first.”

Freddie frowned. “Was that a dig? I feel like you’re angry with me. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, Rosie, but I’ve never even been to America, so of course the idea of moving there would frighten me.”

“I still thought we’d at least talk about it,” Rosie replied. Now his eyes were hard.

“I thought we had! I didn’t know that when we talked about houses and furniture you were imagining America.”

“I didn’t imagine you were assuming we’d just stay here!”

“I’ve never been there!”

“You expect me to just never see my family? Stay here forever after the war?”

“You can go and visit!” Freddie exclaimed. “I just thought you’d come back after!”

“My life’s in Brooklyn, Fred! My job!”

“My degree is in Oxford!”

“You can go to school in New York -”

“Okay, I think this is a conversation to be had sober,” Millie cut in, “and in private. Don’t you? It seems there’s much to discuss.”

Freddie and Rosie were still frowning at each other even as they settled back into their chairs.

Just like that, their dreams of domestic bliss were all destroyed in one go. Neither could believe the other had imagined them in their own home. The two of them had met each other halfway on a lot of things by now, understood each other intimately in so many different ways, but this impasse was startling in how quickly it had forced them to butt heads. They’d argued when Rosie had re-upped, yes, but that had been about his safety - it had been, for all intents and purposes, a life and death situation. This? This was a domestic argument. An argument any couple might have. An argument they could have been having in peacetime.

Freddie had never pictured them arguing in peacetime. Whenever she thought about it they were always blissfully happy. And whenever she thought about it they were in Oxford. Why on earth would he think they’d be going to New York?

[ihni]

(On AO3)

Billy was already waiting by the mailbox when the postman came. It was the third day in a row he was standing there, and today the mailman just raised his eyebrows as he handed Billy a small stack of envelopes. Billy didn’t do more than grunt in thanks before he started rifling through the letters. There were bills addressed to his dad, one letter that looked like an offer to start a magazine subscription for Susan – and nothing for Billy. As usual.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath and went inside to prepare for work. He was alone in the house – Neil and Susan had left for work already and since it was summer, Max was already out, hanging with her friends. Billy worked the late shift at the pool this week, which was why he had time to wait by the mailbox. And after that, by the phone.

At five to eleven, the phone rang, just like he knew it would.

“Hey,” Steve said, voice sounding tinny and far away. Which was fair, since he was all the way over in Europe. “Nothing yet?”

“Nope,” Billy confirmed and chewed on his lip. “Maybe … maybe it got lost on the way?” A groan came down the line. If Billy closed his eyes he could imagine the way Steve would be pulling at his hair right about now. “Maybe it’s just late. Who knows how long it takes to deliver mail from Italy to Indiana, anyway?”

“I’ve been here for four weeks,” Steve said. “And I sent it the first week. Grandma says that it usually takes a week, two tops. It should have gotten there by now.”

Billy bit his lip and winced. It should.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, voice more subdued. “I never should have sent it. I wasn’t thinking.”

Billy sighed. They’d had this discussion before, the first of which was when Steve let him know that he’d sent a raunchy letter with accompanying polaroid pictures in the mail. Billy had almost had a heart attack when he heard. He had been quick to exchange all his shifts at the pool to the late ones, even though there was more to do then than in the mornings. He did it just so he could ensure he was the one who picked up the mail, so he would be able to take the letter before anyone else saw it. Because he knew that if his dad found a letter that had been sent from overseas and which was addressed to Billy, he wouldn’t hesitate to open it first to check what it was. And if he found pictures of Billy’s boyfriend’s dick … well. Billy would be dead.

“I know,” he said. He knew that Steve was sorry, and worried. He’d taken to calling every day around this time on weekdays, when he knew that Billy would be home alone – and that his dad wouldn’t be there. “Maybe it’ll show up tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve murmured. “We’re leaving for home on Monday. At this pace, I’ll be home before the letter!”

“That’s better anyway,” Billy decided. “I prefer the real thing to a picture any day.”

Despite his attempt at flirting, he was still worried. For every day that passed without the letter showing up, Billy got more and more tense. He wouldn’t be able to be the first one to the mailbox every day, and if his dad got his hands on it …

He shook the unease off and said his goodbye to his boyfriend, who promised to call again the next day. After that he went through the pile of mail one more time – just in case he’d missed the airmail letter, somehow – before putting it in a neat pile on the kitchen table, and gathering his things before leaving for work.

It was a warm and sunny day, which meant there were a lot of people at the pool. A lot of loud and obnoxious people, ranging from the kids who ran rampant along the pool’s edge to their parents, who seemed to be there only to ogle the lifeguards. Billy had a headache by the time he finally got to lock up and go home, which didn’t even lessen when he turned the volume of his car stereo down low while driving.

When he got back to the house, he parked on the driveway and sighed as he got out of the Camaro, mentally preparing himself for a mediocre dinner in the Hargrove household. His head shot up when he heard someone call his name.

“Billy?”

It was Mr. Peterson, their elderly neighbor. He was waving to Billy from behind his fence, a friendly smile on his wrinkly face.

Billy internally groaned. Mr. Peterson was approximately a hundred years old (slight exaggeration, but he was old-old) and could talk forever if one didn’t manage to weasel out of it fast. Neil would be pissed if Billy was late for dinner – but then again, he would be pissed if Billy wasn’t polite to their neighbors, too. So, plastering a smile onto his face, Billy walked up to the fence.

“Hi, Mr. Peterson. How are you today?”

“Oh good, Billy, good. The joints are creaking as usual, but besides that I’m just fine, thank you,” Mr. Peterson said, and Billy prepared himself for what was bound to be a fifteen-minute monologue about the man’s bad hip. Which is why it was so surprising that he cut straight to the chase. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Billy looked back towards his house, hesitating. Mr. Peterson seemed to sense it, because he was quick to assure, “It’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

Neil always preached how important it was to have good relationships with one’s neighbors, so he wouldn’t be able to fault Billy for helping an old man out. “Yeah, of course,” Billy therefore said and walked around the fence and into the man’s yard. “What can I do for you?”

“Follow me, please.”

Mr. Peterson led Billy to the house, and in through the front door. Billy had never been inside the old man’s house before, and stopped on the welcome mat in the hall and looked around. It seemed to be a typical old-person home. Smelled musty, and a little bit like smoke, with yellowed wallpaper and a lot of framed photographs on the walls.

Mr. Peterson went to a wooden dresser that was pushed up against one of the walls, and opened the top drawer to pull out –

Shit.

– an airmail letter. An opened airmail letter.

“I got this in the mail a couple of days ago,” Mr. Peterson said, holding the envelope up so Billy could see it better. It had Steve’s chickenscratch handwriting on it, and was addressed to ‘Billy Hargrove’.

Shit shit shit.

Not noticing – or maybe not caring about – Billy’s rising panic, Mr. Peterson continued, “The mailman must have gotten our mail mixed up, or read the number wrong. I’m sorry to say that I didn’t read the address properly before opening it – my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, you see, and I have friends in Europe so I thought it was from one of them.” Billy only barely heard him through the sound of rushing in his ears. “And, well. I didn’t notice until I’ve already opened it that it … that it was probably not meant for me.”

He looked up and looked into Billy’s eyes for the first time since he’d picked up the letter, raising one white bushy eyebrow. Billy was frozen in fear. He knew what was in that letter – Steve had told him – and it was incriminating, to say the least. If Mr. Peterson had told anyone, or shown anyone – god, if he told Billy’s dad, he’d –

“Breathe, son,” Mr. Peterson said, not unkindly, and put a wrinkly hand on Billy’s shoulder, pretending like he didn’t notice when Billy flinched. Which was silly. Billy could take him; Mr. Peterson was a head shorter than Billy, and ancient.

But he also knew.

“I, I … I don’t know what …” Billy didn’t know how to continue that sentence, so it was lucky that Mr. Peterson took that opportunity to start talking again.

“Did you know that I fought in the First World War?” The non sequitur had Billy’s mind reeling. He did know that – Neil had told the family as soon as he found out, proud to be living in a neighborhood of war veterans – but he couldn’t form words at the moment. Mr. Peterson reached out to one of the picture frames on the wall and pointed at it. It was a grainy black and white picture of five men, posing in front of a restaurant. “This was taken fifteen years after the war ended. We – the ones out of my friends who survived – got together again, to … catch up, and all that.”

Billy still didn’t know what this had to do with anything. He eyed the letter in the old man’s hand, and wondered if he would be able to snatch it and make a run for it. But no. No, then Neil would definitely find out.

“This is Joe,” Mr. Peterson said and tapped his finger against the glass, showing a grinning man wearing a hat. “Joseph. He was my friend.” At this, he gave Billy a significant look. “My special friend.”

Billy stopped breathing, and blinked while the word filtered into his brain. Mr. Peterson couldn’t be insinuating what Billy thought he was insinuating, right?

The old man took Billy’s hand in his and, smiling, pressed the airmail letter with Steve’s handwriting on it into Billy’s palm. Billy’s fingers closed on it out of instinct. It was thicker than an ordinary letter, and he could feel the polaroids through the thin paper of the envelope.

Mr. Peterson didn’t let go of his hand, though. He patted their joined hands with his other hand and made sure to look Billy in the eye as he said, “Love is love, son. I know that better than most. And no matter where you find it, you should consider yourself lucky to have it.”

Billy’s vision was getting blurry, and he let out a shuddering breath. “Mr. Peterson …”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Mr. Peterson said. His voice was gentle, as if he was trying not to spook a skittish animal.

Billy could do nothing but nod. He couldn’t feel his face, but he was pretty sure that he was either stark white or tomato red. Mr. Peterson gently guided him to the door and patted him on the arm as he opened the door.

“Thank you for your help, young man,” he said. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”

Billy took a couple of steps out on the porch, but then stopped and turned around. He could hardly believe what had just happened. When he looked at the old man in the doorway, he looked at him with new eyes, and a new understanding. This man, their elderly neighbor – the war veteran that Neil actually respected – he was like Billy?

“I’m …” Billy started, but again couldn’t find words. “Thank you.”

Mr. Peterson just smiled, and nodded to the letter in Billy’s hand. “That boy? You’re lucky to have him. He seems like a keeper.” Billy nodded, still in shock. And that’s when Mr. Peterson leaned forward and added, in a lower voice and with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Big dick too. Joe’s was smaller, but boy did he know how to use it.”

@harringrove-flip-reverse-it

[pretty-emo-dad]

Queer rep is like “I’m a girl…. But I like?? A girl >_<“ Meanwhile queer coding is like “I look at her face through her fishnet veil. Is she pissed? I can’t tell because it’s hard to see her expression in the dark. I shrug, smile, but feel my lip jerk to one side.

“Okay. Stressful. School and all.”

She nods at the moon, who would never be stressed out by dumb things like school. I wish she would look at me.

“I missed you.” I say it with feeling. Too much feeling. “I tried to text. I thought maybe you left town or something.”

“Nope, still here. Well, there was that really brief stint with Diego in Paris. He got me this coat.”

“It’s nice.” I say it before I even look at her coat but now that I do, I realize it is a nice coat, a very nice coat, and I’ve never seen her in it before. Probably another spoil from the Warren dumpster but no, it looks too new. It’s got a fur collar. “Is that real fur?”

“Rabbit.” She blows smoke coolly out of her nostrils like a dragon. “He skinned it himself. Don’t look so appalled, Smackie. That’s what they do in Europe. Anyway, it had a good life before he shot it. Lots of tall grass and hopping in the Bois de Boulogne or whatever.”

She grins at me, her eyes shining. “Oh, how was your little sex party thing, by the way?”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“I mean, it was super lame,” I add. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.”

She looks at me. “You’re allowed to have fun without me,

you know.”

“I know,” I say. “But I really didn’t. At all.”

She looks at me until I look away.

Silence.

When I look back at her, she’s staring up at the moon, smiling serenely at it like the moon is her new best friend, it’s telling her the most gorgeous things in the world, it would never betray her for some dumb cunts. I could never compare. I shouldn’t try.

“I really missed you this week. I thought maybe you were upset with me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because you went to that lame party?”

When she says it aloud like that, it sounds utterly stupid.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe,” I say.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Don’t be an idiot.” She turns back toward the moon. “Unlike your new friends, I’m a grown woman.” “I know.”

“I have my own devices.” She looks down the street as though she’s waiting for a taxi that will arrive and whisk her away any minute now. The street is dark, empty, aside from a few scared-looking undergrads walking quickly down the sidewalk, huddled together, their coiffed heads bent, purse logos shimmering in the dark. Probably venturing toward the one cool bar downtown.

The tango music swells up again.

“We’d better go back inside,” she says and moves to walk in.

“I’m sorry I went,” I blurt out. “I would much rather have hung out with you.” It’s the truth. It’s so the truth I can’t even look at her.

“Do you want me to be mad at you? Is that it?” “No,” I say.

“Because I will be. Samantha, how dare you.” “Ava.”

“Why oh why did you desert me for three hours?”

“Stop it.”

“Do you know I almost died? In fact,” she turns to look at me, “I am dead.” “Don’t.”

“Oh yes. I’m a ghost now, Samantha. I died of a broken heart. I died of grief. It’s in the autopsy. And it’s all your fault. My tombstone reads, Friend Deserted for Evening. I didn’t invite you to the funeral because I figured you wouldn’t care.”

“Ava, please stop—”

She moves in closer. Cups her hands around my face. Her hands are cold and soft and strong through the mesh gloves that grate my skin. She smells like wet leaf, firewood, and green tea. Her hair is platinum feathers brushing my cheeks. Her eyes are runny and scary with makeup, both the brown one and the blue one boring into my skull. We’re swaying slightly like we’re about to dance.

I remember how the first time we came to class, we were late and all the men had been taken. So the teacher said, You two, pair up! Take turns leading.

Are you leading or am I? I asked Ava.

Whatever, she said. We can both lead.

Okay, I said, not knowing what to do. So I sort of followed and led at the same time. She was looking right at me sort of dreamily, happily, like what bliss, what fun, isn’t it? but I didn’t know where to look, so I kept my eyes on a peacock feather earring dangling from her left ear. It felt a little like holding a dream.

I’m staring at that feather now, though this doesn’t feel like a dream.

“Samantha,” she says now, “I don’t care, okay? I really don’t. You want to go to a pretentious party and fraternize with bonobos, I honestly give zero fucks. I don’t care what you do or where you go, okay?”

I feel my breath being knocked out of me. “Okay,” I say. She looks at me.

Tears are suddenly running down my face.

“Smackie,” she says softly.

But I’m walking away, stumbling then running. Even though the night scares me. Even though I hear her calling my name as I walk off into the night. I hear her calling me back, but I don’t turn around. I want to show her I’m not scared. ”

[444m777]

I took an impromptu nap at like 9PM (I currently reside in Europe) and now I can’t really sleep. It’s past 1AM and I’m reeling with excitement. I have a couple of posts coming up this week. And perhaps in two weeks I’ll share a video of me dancing to Dirty Diana….

A little fact about me… I pole dance🤪 not in the club though I don’t shame $trippers at all. I look up to them actually and it’s because of them I get to enjoy this sport without the stigma (for the most part). Anyways they want us to dress up for the performance video and I terribly want to look like Michael in the Dirty Diana video but where am I going to find the right clothes on time to match the vibe????

May the shipping lords be on my side if I do end up finding something. Goddddd I’m annoyed🙃

I’ll probably settle on a white crop top and stockings since the choreo is a wee bit sexy😏 I hope I do MJ justice with this pole choreo🤞🏾😋

Hugs & Heehees