#as well as them still having their Christmas on Sunday

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[hideaway-or-safehouse]

my least favorite thing about having autism + CPTSD is how a trigger of mine can be barely touched and then im silently crying on/off for the rest of the day as i have an autistic shut-down

[amaranthineghost]

| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.

ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support <3

if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.

GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.

the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.

she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.

love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.

she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.

it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.

because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.

growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.

it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.

after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.

when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.

but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.

every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.

because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.

growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.

she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.

it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.

because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.

but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.

though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.

it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.

because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.

but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.

especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.

but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.

it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.

self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.

when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.

days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.

and it did, at least a little.

as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.

she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.

so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.

his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.

she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.

her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.

" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?

her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.

with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.

it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.

but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.

when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.

she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.

when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.

because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.

though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.

she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.

"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.

"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.

" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.

"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.

she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.

he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.

"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.

she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.

" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."

the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.

her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."

his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"

"how I feel."

he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"

she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.

she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."

she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.

he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."

his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.

the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.

she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.

"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.

she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.

he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.

he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.

he put out her fire.

[sempersirens]

DAUGHTER LESSONS | a joel miller oneshot

masterlist

summary: would it kill joel to just touch you?

warnings: established relationship, infidelity, jackson-era, no mention of age, angst

author's note: so... i have been disgustingly obsessed with COWBOY CARTER (duh! i have taste) and have fixated on the duality of daddy lessons and DAUGHTER, which thereby produced this lovechild of the two. you guys know i love me some religious imagery and angst...

Nothing could’ve confined you to a pew in your youth.

Your knees had breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of a blood-red kneeler when you were granted Sunday morning autonomy. Only your grandmother’s morbid prophecies of watching mass from above this time next year herded you between the rows of wooden benches at Easter and Christmas.

Maybe it was her you were trying to reach; chin tipped to the ceiling as if you would be overcome with the smell of potpourri and Irish coffee, heart flooded with all the right answers.

Still, nothing good came. 

“Didn’t expect t’find you in here.” His familiar drawl pricks at the hairs on your neck. 

“I was trying out solitude.” 

Joel had always moved with surprising stealth for someone of his build, but nothing he did these days surprised you anymore.

You had given him everything since meeting shortly after his and Ellie’s arrival in Jackson. It hadn’t taken long for you to witness his undoing. 

But this time, Joel doesn’t move. 

Rather, he stands in the middle of the aisle taking in the sight of you on your knees four rows ahead and to his left. Your hands are clasped so tightly together he can see the whites of your knuckles from this far back. 

Joel knows the back of your head more intimately than he probably should.

You have a habit of turning away from him in bed at night the second you were overcome by the smallest amount of fatigue.

Too damn hot you would mumble from your tenure of the mattress. And he can’t say he minded too much.

Often, he would reach a hand to your hair spilling across the pillow onto his side before regaining sense and propping the hand underneath his head instead.

During your waking hours, languidly reciting the steps of your morning routine around his small kitchen, he feels the want to touch you.

He wants to smooth down the hair that always bobbled around the raised birthmark on your scalp. He wants to feel your cheek against the knuckle of his right index finger. He wants to take the coffee cup from your hands and engulf them in the warmth of his instead. 

“She’s not here.” You mumble, so quietly that he’s not sure if that’s what you’ve actually said.

“Who?” He braves, wiping his sweating palms on the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

You respond with a scoff, confirming his hypothesis. 

Of course she isn’t here. You both know very well that she isn’t here. 

When Tommy had first introduced the two of you, he’d cornered Joel at the bar while ordering their third, or maybe fourth, round of drinks.

“She’s a good woman, Joel.” 

“I’m figuring that out just fine.” He’d smirked, taking a preliminary sip of his beer before glancing back at you. Your elbows were perched on the wooden table, chin resting on your palms as you exchanged low-looks and snickers with Maria sat across from you. 

“No, you don’t get it. She’s good. She’s kind. Her daddy’s the pastor here.”

“Not settin’ me up with a Bible basher are you, little brother? She gon’ make me wait until I give her a ring?” 

He’d felt like an ass as soon as he’d opened his mouth, which was made worse by Tommy’s unchanging expression. He didn’t look irate or tired of Joel’s age-old shit – the face behind his warning was unwaveringly sincere.

“Just don’t hurt her.” 

And in that moment, Joel couldn’t fathom anything as desacrating as hurting you. He had returned Tommy’s solemnity with a nod and carried your drinks back to your table; the remainder of the night blurring into the rest of his life.

He hadn’t fallen in love with you that night. Joel is stubborn in love, and it took months of langorous warmth to thaw his roughness. 

You didn’t make him wait for a ring.

Nights spent in symphony with one another were the only moments Joel could bring himself to touch you. There, he knew how to work his hands, his tongue, his hips. Not once would he hesitate in reaching out to smooth a thumb across your forehead. He moved like a river, flowing into your body in desperation to meet the ocean. 

And you wondered if he did it on purpose, or if he knew that he was doing it at all. Passing him in the intimacy of his home or the vastness of the food hall, you were only ever hungry for his skin against yours. 

Slowly, you crept into his skin through his pores. You made his days sweeter and smoother wherever and however you could, hoping perhaps one evening his fingers would brush yours as you set a plate on the table before him.

But here you rise, swallowed in the rosy light of dawn with damp cheeks and all faith robbed from your chest.

“I can’t do this here, Joel.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and attempt to put as much distance between the two of you as you pass him in the aisle.

“Then don’t. Come home.”

For a second he debates reaching out to you, wrapping you in his arms and letting you beat against his chest as your body racks with sobs. But the moment soon escapes him and he’s following you into the morning air.

“I buried my home a week ago.” You spoke flatly, bones void of any remnants of anger or fight. “You know what my daddy told me before he died?” 

He thinks he does. Moreso, he can hazard a guess. 

Nevertheless, he can’t quite seem to find his voice as you bring yourself to a halt. The morning sun peeks between the buildings behind you.

“Told me one day you’d play me for a fool. And look at me now.” You shook with breathy laughter. “He’s in the ground and there’s another woman keeping the man I love’s bed warm.”

Jackson would soon be rising with the sun. It had almost been a full day since you’d come home from patrol an hour earlier than Joel expected.

In truth, it hadn’t been the clothes strewn over kitchen chairs and draped over the bannisters. Not even the warm smell of salt and latex that hit you before you’d opened the bedroom door.

Joel’s fingers grazed the small of her back, tracing lazy shapes up and down her spine. Your stomach tightened into a small fist, losing all composure you had truly tried to maintain in your ascent up to the bedroom.

You had never even really been one to fight. Your father had taught you to handle yourself, and you’d learnt what was necessary to survive in the new world. 

Really, you wanted to pollute the skin beneath Joel’s touch. You wanted for him to never touch anything beautiful again; to never grasp at cold cotton sheets in the middle of the night; to never feel the slow threat of rain tapping against his skin.

Life began to creep in around the two of you. Ellie and Tommy would soon come looking for Joel to set off on morning patrol.

“One day, Joel, someone is going to give you exactly what you deserve. And I pray to God that I’m there to see it.”

You turn on your heel, leaving Joel to watch as your hair sways from side-to-side down your back. He swallows the lump formed in his throat and tilts his chin to the sky, blinking away the threat of tears moistening his lower lashes. 

He wipes his hands against his jeans and straightens his torso, forcing a low cough to clear his throat. 

Peaches, he thinks. Tonight he will bring you peaches, and he will watch as the juice spills from the side of your mouth. He will reach a thumb to wipe it away, and he will hold you. For as long as you let him; as long as he breathes.

[whorekneecentral]

As Red As My Stockings

Trent Alexander Arnold x Physio!Fem!Reader

Warnings: takes place in the '23 season (after the newcastle match but imagine it to be in November or something so it fits the timeline lmao), andy and ibou are so annoying towards trent, virg is over them, probably incorrect physio treatments, one teeny tiny hint to medical role play for like 0.2 seconds, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, trent is sooooo !!

Word Count: 2,519

Author's Note: our vice captain >>> anyways, this one was a bit random. hope y'all enjoy it :))

merry smutmas series

--

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfill one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

Liverpool FC had been your home for the last few years and in your time there, quite a few players had come and gone through your room. All of them were wonderful and talented and charming in their own ways but no one beat the boys you had now.

If you could give them a middle name, it'd be troublesome.

It's Tuesday morning and the boys were returning for training. Liverpool had played Newcastle on Sunday, leaving the boys with another 2 points added onto the board but were left without their captain after a red card.

Currently, their captain was laid on the bench in your physio room, the rest of the boys scattered through the training room - you can see and hear their noise through the glass panels that separated the two rooms.

"I don't even know how I did it," Virgil tells you, watching as you massaged the spot before he could join the rest of the boys.

"I'm sure you must have over worked it during your shouting match with the ref," you glanced up at the man, there's a smile on his face even though he's rolling his eyes.

Before you finish with the captain, the door to the physio room swings open. The younger players had a habit of hiding in there to avoid training, especially when they knew Virgil wasn't in.

In comes Andy with his arm over Trent, squeezing the vice captain in a headlock. Ibou comes running in after them.

They weren't aware that their captain was currently in there with you.

"Oh hey skip," Andy shouts to his friend, struggling to hold Trent in place. The man struggles, pushing Andy away from him when he realizes Virgil was in there. Ibou blocks the doorway, stopping Trent from passing.

You were taping Virgil's knee, smoothing the tape as he looked over at the three of them. "Why are you in here? Don't bother y/n, she's working unlike some people," he shoots them a glare, making you laugh.

"All done, big man." You step back, picking up the roll of tape. You look over in the direction of the other players in the room. "What can I help y'all with?"

Andy says, "Trent strained something in his thigh." Trent was glaring at Andy; if looks could kill.

You nod towards the empty chair, putting away the stuff you used on Virgil before turning back to him. "Need anything else?"

"No," Virgil shook his head, still laying on the bench as he scrolled through his phone. "I'll head out in a few."

"Okay," you smiled, walking over to where Trent now begrudgingly sat. Ibou was snickering in the corner of the room, leaning on the wall by the door.

"Ibrahima," you called, the man freezes at the use of his full name. "Do you need something ?"

"Just water," he says, rushing off to the fridge to grab a bottle.

Andy's got a hand over his mouth, covering his giggles. "Don't start before I kick you out too, Andrew." You look over at him and he presses his lips together, sliding his fingers across it and turning it; locking it up so he doesn't make noise.

Trent sat quietly, so still that you almost missed his chest raising and falling with each breath.

"Which one?" you asked, crouching in front of him. His brows furrow, looking at you confused. "Which leg?" You clarified and he raised his left leg slightly.

You nod, "can you pull your shorts up a bit?"

Ibou and Andy were giggling behind you and you can't help but look over at him, the two of them shutting up, or at least attempting to.

Turning your attention back to Trent, you touch his thigh carefully, working your fingers over the muscle and the man groans. You glance up at him, "there?"

"Your hand's cold," he says and you move your hand away. "Sorry," you say, rubbing your hands together to try and warm them up.

You put your hand back carefully, not wanting to freeze him again but when he doesn't complain, you find yourself moving your hand along his thigh to find the strain. Your fingers were soft against his skin, Trent was thinking of what other injuries he could fake to come in and see you, to have you feel him up.

"Trent?" You called, pulling him from his thoughts, "where exactly is the strain? I can't feel anything."

His cheeks are red, he's been caught. "Uh-"

"Look!" Andy's hunched over laughing and Ibou's leant back laughing right beside him. "His face is red!"

"Shut up!" Trent grumbles, looking away from you and you bite back a smile before Virgil speaks, standing up. "Yeah, both of you shut up and go back to training," he tells him, shooing them from the room.

He smiles at you, nodding as he ushers a laughing Andy and Ibou out of the room. You turn your attention back to the vice captain. "So the strain?"

"I mean.." he starts and you hum, waiting for him to go on as you stand back up. "It was more of a tweak than a strain. "

"Of course," you nod, knowing he was bullshitting you.

This wasn't the first time he had landed himself in your physio room with some non-existent injury. Trent thought you didn't know about his crush on you but you did; if the players did one thing when they came in, it was gossip - especially amongst themselves when they think you aren't paying any attention to them.

You reach for his shorts, pulling them back into place. "Well if this tweak comes back, come see me. I'll treat it." You tell him, a smile on your face.

Trent stands, nodding. "Thanks, y/n."

"Anytime, Trent."

He was off to training once again but you called for him, stopping him in his tracks. "Next time you wanna see me, just come by. No need to bring the whole squad with you." You give him a look, the man's face red as he nods, walking out of the room.

--

The afternoon rolled into the evening, the boys finished up their training and whoever needed to be checked out stopped by but for the most part, the place was empty.

You had stayed back after the rest of the staff had left, putting up some decorations for the holidays. You're up on the chair, taping the garland to the wall when someone knocks on the door.

"Hey," Trent calls, stepping into the room before shutting the door behind him. You smiled at him, getting off of the chair. "Hey Trent, you okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, walking over to the bench furthest from the door. You did a few things, putting away the tape and the scissors. "What are you doing here so late?" He asks, leaning on the bench.

"Putting up decorations," you tell him, back turned to him as you shoved the leftover decorations into the bottom cupboard. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He shrugs, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shorts. "I uh.. well there's a pain in my thigh and it won't go away."

"What happened?" You walk over to the man, "I can take a look if you want."

"Yeah, could you?" He says, watching as you crouch down in front of him. Trent can't stop himself, all the filthy thoughts flooding his mind. "Where's the pain?" You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes and he inhales, trying to control himself - the thought was there, he just had to make it happen, that's if you wanted to.

"Upper thigh," he whispers and you nod, rubbing your hands together which makes him smile, reminding him of earlier that day. "You're gonna have to pull your shorts up, Trent."

He nods, pulling the left side up and bunching it by the top of his thigh as you slowly start feeling over the area. Your fingers were soft but firm, his head tipped back and lips pressed together as you moved your hand a bit closer to the top of his thigh.

"Where exactly is this pain?" You look up at him, brows furrowed. Trent looks down at you, tongue passing over his bottom lip. "A little higher," he whispers and you finally get what he meant.

"Oh," you nod, moving your hand up further until it was near his cock. Trent glances down at you, watching as your hand rubs over the bulge in his pants. "There?" you asked quietly and he bites back a smile, nodding.

"Now why didn't you just say that from the beginning, Trent?"

"You're the physio, y/n. I knew you'd figure it out," he smiles when you stand. You hum, nodding. "So tell me," your hand still rubbing over him, Trent glances between the two of you. "What do you think is the appropriate treatment for this?"

"Whatever you think would fix it, hm? You're the professional."

You move, about to lower yourself onto your knees again but Trent stops you. "As much as I'd love to see you on your knees for me.. fuck, I can't wait."

"Wait for ?" You teased, letting him move you around. He rolls his eyes, bending you over the bench. "Okay then, don't answer me." You mumbled, fully well knowing what he meant.

Trent pulls on your pants, pulling them down, You can feel him shuffling behind you, his own pants tugged down just enough. The tip of his cock presses against you when he leans over, his hand on your hip.

"Can I?" He asks, his hips jutting forward just a bit. You hum, nodding but Trent doesn't move, "I need words, y/n. C'mon love."

"Fuck- please, Trent."

Your arms are propped on the bench, holding you up. Trent's hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward.

Panties pushed to the side and he didn't have to hear anything else, lining himself up with you before his hips dig into you. He gives you a second to adjust him before moving.

He smiles at the way your face twists in pleasure. “God, you're so pretty," he sighs, pushing your shirt up a bit as his hips dug into your ass. 

Trent's hips dig into your ass, your hips are surely going to have a bruise tomorrow morning.

When you feel the tip of his cock press against a certain spot, your head falls forwards, his name falling from your lips. "Just like that," you mumbled, your nails digging into the leather of the bench. You could see the little half circles indents it left but you didn't care.

He can feel you clench around him when he does that, his hips ramming into you from behind again. "Like that, love?"

"Fuc- yeah." You nod, barely able to keep yourself standing let alone speak.

His hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. Looking down, the outline of his hand pulls your attention, no matter how much you wanted to look away, you couldn’t bring yourself too. 

He pushes you down forward the bench, you prop yourself up on your forearms once again. You can see the reflection of the two of you in the glass door across from you; Trent's behind you, a hand on your hip and the other shoved down your panties, you're a mess, begging him to keep going.

Now Trent's not the biggest guy but he was bigger than you, both height wise and he was broader than you - you'd never admit it to him but god, you thought about him often. How good it would feel to have him on top of you or for you to be on top of him, how you fantasized about how good his fingers would feel or better yet, his cock.

You didn't have to fantasize about that part anymore.

The knot in your stomach tightens, and obviously, you know the size difference exists but you’d never seen it like this. Trent towers over you and his large hand covers your hip. Your body doesn’t even block his hips from view when he fucks you.

Your eyes find his in the reflection and you don’t even have to say anything, he knows exactly what you’re saying. 

Trent smiles. "It’s okay sweetheart, I know.” He whispers to you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second. The way you squeezed around him would send him over the edge just as soon as you did. "Me too," he tells you and you hum, "inside."

"Inside?" He asks, unsure if he heard you right.

"Please, Trent."

You had the man wrapped around your finger. Anything you wanted, he'd give you. All you had to do was ask.

The two of you in sync, his chest pressed to your back as you both came down from your orgasm. He rubbed your side softly before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck and pulling out slowly. He smiles to himself when he hears the whimper that slips past your lips when he pulls out.

It takes a second, the two of you slowly getting redressed. You leant on the bench behind you when you looked at Trent, his face red. "Want some water?" You asked, already walking to the fridge.

"Yeah sure. Thanks." He ties the string on his shorts, you pass him the bottle when he walks over. Trent takes a sip before he speaks. "I uh, I'd love to take you out for dinner before we head out for the holidays, y/n."

"Usually, you'd take a girl out to dinner before you fuck her like a whore, right?"

He chokes on his water, rubbing his chest. "I- yes of course."

You laugh at his reaction, wiping away the water from his bottom lip with your thumb. Trent's hand rests on your lower back, "can I take you on a date, you know a proper date?"

"Promise to do that same thing after?" You joked, nodding towards the bench. Trent laughs, nodding. "If that's what you want."

"Oh shut up, mr. I can't wait."

Trent's cheeks are red again, making you smile. Your hand rests on his cheek, reaching up to give him a kiss. "Yeah, I'll go out with you."

"Good," he smiles. There's a knock on the door before he gets a chance to speak again. "Are you guys done?!" Andy shouts from the other side of the door. "I forgot my charger in there!"

You and Trent exchange a glance, laughing as he lets you go, letting you open the door to let Andy in. The Scotsman looks between the two of you, the state of the two of you was a give away; skin all sticky, clothes wrinkled and out of place, Trent's face is red and you've got a bit of a wobble to your walk.

Andy laughs, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh! You two soooo-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Andrew."

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[weemssapphic]

Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk. 

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door. 

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze. 

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea. 

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it. 

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?” 

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands. 

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move. 

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back. 

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment. 

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over. 

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :) 

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :) 

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;)  Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips… 

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her. 

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh. 

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink. 

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously. 

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own. 

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place. 

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking. 

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off. 

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs. 

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go. 

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you’ - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either. 

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow. 

Thud. 

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table. 

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes. 

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers. 

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last. 

x

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[kwanisms]

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 07 🎄

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➮ Joshua × fem!Reader wc: 9k summary: While helping set up for a Christmas special at his church, Joshua is reintroduced to Y/N who is offered to help him set up. While working, they reminisce and Joshua apologizes about everything that summer. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut; holiday themes, religious undertones; non idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry this took so long lol i was stumped at where to take it, but managed to figure it out by moving a scene around. Joshua is always a subject that is fun to explore as every seems to see him pretty different. I love seeing what everyone comes up with for him. A reminder that the taglist for this series is now closed! Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging as it really helps out and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: protected sex (finally lmao. He has learned from his past), a lot of heavy petting & making out in a church backroom lmao, car sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, choking kink, finger sucking, degradation, impact play (light slapping), slight exhibitionism, and I think that’s all of them! If I missed any, let me know!

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Joshua wouldn’t say he was as deep in his faith as he used to be but he still attended church regularly. Less out of faith and more out of routine and a sense of community. So when the holidays rolls around, he inevitably ends up volunteering to help with the extra activities like the nativity play as well as teaching Sunday school. This year was no different.

Except that it was completely different.

“Can you hand me that hammer?” Joshua asked, pointing at the claw hammer sticking out of the tool box. Jeonghan huffed, bending down to pick it up and handing it over. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into helping you with this,” he grumbled, checking his watch.

Joshua looked up at his friend. “Impatient?” he asked with a smirk. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “I have work in an hour,” Jeonghan said, glancing around quickly before adding in an “asshole” under his breath, making Joshua laugh as he lined up the nail and started hammering it.

“This won’t take long,” he promised as he started hammering a second nail into the wood. “Besides, isn’t this fun?” Jeonghan eyed him suspiciously. “Not particularly, no,” Jeonghan answered before glancing around. “I feel… weird.” He looked up at the cross on the wall behind the stage they currently stood on. “Oh it’s not that bad,” Joshua snorted as he finished hammering the nails in.

He handed Jeonghan the hammer before starting to push the frame of the tiny stable over until it stood upright. “Hmm, not bad,” Jeonghan said, tilting his head to admire Joshua’s handiwork. “You’re like Jesus’ dad. A carpenter.” Joshua rolled his eyes, lightly smacking Jeonghan’s arm.

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Jeonghan hissed, holding his arm and looking more offended by the slap than the insult. “You even have the same name!” Joshua turned to give Jeonghan a bewildered stare. “You’re thinking of Joseph,” he said as he started to grab the brown cloth fabric and the upholstery staple gun. 

“Mary’s husband was Joseph. Joshua was a warrior who led Israel in the conquest of Canaan after the Exodus from Egypt.”

Jeonghan stared blankly at his friend. “I have no idea what any of those words mean.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, gesturing for Jeonghan to help him hold up the fabric backing of the stable. He started to staple it into place, making sure it was pulled taut over the frame. “He was essentially a military leader,” he explained further. Jeonghan’s lips parted in an O as he listened. 

“Good for him,” Jeonghan said as Joshua continued to staple the backing on. “Power to the people or whatever.” Joshua snorted again as he finished stapling. Jeonghan checked his watch again. “Look, I’d love to stay and talk to you about EXO but I have to leave now if I want to make it to work on time,” he said, starting to head for the steps. Joshua nodded.

“Of course. And thanks for your help,” he said as Jeonghan descended the steps. “Drive safe!” Jeonghan waved as he headed down the aisle and out the door into the lobby of the church.

Back on his own, Joshua was able to focus on the less taxing job of painting the stable. It wasn’t much, just some brown paint here and there but Joshua always went above and beyond.

“Looking good, Joshua!” a voice said, drawing his attention. Joshua looked up to find Father Y/L/N walking towards him, his wife in tow and one more familiar face. Yours.

Joshua felt a rush of blood to his head as he stood up straight, making him feel lightheaded. He hadn’t seen you since summer camp all those years ago. He’d tried, keep an eye out for you every year until he finally quit working there once he got his full time job.

Not one sign of you at the camp. He feared the worst when he didn’t see you again the next summer after your last… meeting. Upon returning to his cabin, Joshua remembered that the two of you hadn’t used a condom and knowing your father was a pastor, he probably didn’t allow you to take birth control.

It had really eaten away at Joshua.

Especially when he learned that you’d left the next morning citing a family emergency. And thus began Joshua’s months-long panic-stricken search but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to dig up any social media accounts under your name.

Not a single trace of you had been left behind for him to follow but here you were, years later and looking even more amazing and beautiful than the last day he’d seen you.

“Joshua, you remember my daughter, Y/N?” your father asked, placing a light hand on your back and gently pulling you forward. Joshua was rendered speechless. He’d never been speechless.

If Jeonghan was still here, he was certain he’d never hear the end of it. Joshua stared at you, stunned and silent longer than he should have because the next thing your father did was ask if he was okay.

Joshua shook himself mentally. ‘Get it together, you idiot!’

“Uh, yeah,” he finally stammered out, turning to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Hey, Y/N, how have you been?” He hesitated briefly, uncertain of how much physical contact was appropriate.

Should he shake your hand? Go in for a hug? What was allowed? Especially in front of your parents. Joshua had literally been inside you before but that was years ago. He settled for neither and instead gave you probably the most awkward wave he'd ever given in his life.

If your dad didn't think something was up before, he’d certainly be suspicious now. Whether or not he was, Joshua wouldn’t know as your father simply smiled, looking from you to Joshua and back.

“It’s been a while, Joshua,” you noted, not looking away from his face. Joshua swallowed nervously, hoping neither of your parents caught onto his increasingly bizarre behavior.

Either they were oblivious or just didn’t care as to why the usually calm.and collected Sunday school teacher was suddenly losing his cool and metaphorically shitting bricks.

“Yeah,” Joshua replied lamely. “Y/N’s been out of the country for work,” your mother suddenly piped up, sounding exceedingly proud of you. A shy smile graced your lips, reminding Joshua of the quiet demure young woman he’d met all those years ago.

Despite the smile, you certainly did not carry yourself the same way.

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Joshua said, looking away from your mother to meet your gaze. “She’s back in town, looking at apartments. Isn’t that right, dear?” Joshua could see a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Something like that, mother,” you replied dryly. Before either of your parents could say anything more, you spoke again.

“I think I’d like to stay here and help set up,” you offered quickly. “You two go on ahead without me.” Your mother and father exchanged quick glances of surprise before your mother spoke.

“Are you sure, dear?” she asked. You nodded quickly, moving to stand beside Joshua. “It’ll give Joshua and I a chance to catch up.”

Your mother and father looked at one another one last time, Joshua holding his breath that they would just give in and say yes without trying to pry. He wasn’t ready for that conversation yet and he was certain he never would be.

Seemingly moved by your willingness to volunteer, your parents gave in without much resistance, cooing over how sweet you were to volunteer your own time to help out.

They told you they would be back later to pick you up and where to meet them before they both bid you and Joshua farewell.

Once left alone in your presence, Joshua suddenly had no idea what to do, how to act, or what to say so you took the lead, turning to face him. “So,” you started. “What’re you working on?”

Joshua employed your help in painting the stable. It wasn’t exactly riveting work and it left his mind free to wander. Neither of you made any attempt to fill the silence or bridge the glaringly obvious gap between you.

Time seemed to whizz by and yet it also appeared to stand still.

On top of that, he managed to knock over the can of paint.

It would seem he just couldn’t win today.

“Shiii-oot,” Joshua started to curse but caught himself, glancing at you. Upon hearing his half curse, you looked up at him with a bewildered look. “Shi-oot?” you asked, a note of amusement to your voice. Joshua stared at you blankly until you burst into laughter.

And what a sweet laugh it was. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he heard it again.

“What the fuck is ‘shi-oot,’ Joshua?” you managed to wheeze.

A smile spread over Joshua’s face as he realized he’d been holding back and being so uptight for no reason.

Despite all that had changed, it was nice to see some things hadn’t changed at all. You shook your head, still chuckling as you grabbed a nearby rag and started to clean up the spilled paint.

“I’ll go grab a mop from the cleaning supply closet,” Joshua said, setting his brush down carefully and stepping over the spilled paint as you set the can upright.

The cleaning closet wasn’t far, just in the hall outside the nave. He grabbed the mop and a spray bottle of cleaning solution. Upon returning, he was surprised that you managed to get a bulk of the paint off the floor.

He walked over, spraying the spot generously. You got to your feet as Joshua waited for the chemicals in the solution to work. “I’m gonna go grab another can of paint,” you announced. Joshua leaned the mop against one of the benches. 

“I’ll come with you,” he replied, following your steps. “I have to let this stuff sit for a few minutes anyway.” While it was true the solution needed a few minutes for the chemicals to break down the materials in the paint, Joshua really wanted an excuse to spend more time with you. 

He should have known it was a bad idea. He should have foreseen what was going to happen considering your history the last time the two of you were alone together in a store room.

You weren’t sure who made the first move, but one minute you were trying to match paint, the next Joshua had you pinned against the wall, his thigh wedged between yours as his tongue explored your mouth, hands skimming over your body with practiced ease. 

“Fuck,” Joshua grunted as your hands tugged through his hair, pulling his head back slightly. “You still sound just as pretty as before,” he heard you murmur, your lips ghosting over the skin of his neck. “And you’re much more confident than before,” Joshua mused as you pulled back to look at him.

He pulled you in for another kiss, muffling your moans as you rolled your hips, grinding against his thigh.

‘What are you doing? You need to stop this! Remember last time?’

“Wait, wait,” Joshua said softly, pulling back to look at you. “Stop.” You looked up at him, confused as he held you still. “We can’t do this,” he stated, his voice slightly breathless. You felt a small tug at your heart. “Oh.” Your stomach started to sink as the gravity of his words settled. “I see.”

Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Joshua held you firm as you tried to turn and pull away from him. “That came out wrong,” he started quickly. “I meant, we can’t do this here,” he clarified. You looked back up to meet his gaze. “What?” you whispered.

Joshua’s hands moved up to cup your face. “Let me be perfectly clear,” he explained. “I want this. I want you,” he continued. “But not here.” Joshua looked around the backroom. “We’ve done this before,” he added. “I don’t want to do this again. I want to do things right with you.”

You stared back at him, searching and studying his face. When you came back here, following him, you had expected the same thing as before. The sexual tension had been high since being reintroduced.

As you stared back at Joshua, several questions ran through your head. ‘Has he felt this way since the last time? Has he been thinking about this since then? Did he want to pursue something more involved, possibly romantic with you? What was his end goal?’

“What are you saying?” you asked softly, resting your hands against his chest. You felt his thumb stroke your cheek tenderly, making you resist the urge to lean into his touch. “It means,” he started softly, looking into your eyes. “That I want more from this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in your throat.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about that day,” Joshua continued. “To think about what we did, how it affected me, and even moreso, what happened after. I was sure that you had gotten pregnant,” he paused, gauging your reaction.

You said nothing, wanting him to finish his thoughts in their entirety before you spoke. Sensing this, Joshua continued his narrative.

“And that got me thinking. Had me thinking about the future, about what I want in life, and about you. I wondered where you ended up. Wondered what you were doing in your life. And the more I thought about the possibility that I had a kid out there, the more I started to accept it as reality.”

You shook your head quickly. “I’ve been on birth control since I was 16,” you explained. Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have?” he asked quickly to which you nodded. “Mainly for my endometriosis,” you added. “But the added not getting pregnant aspect has been nice, too.”

Joshua let out a soft laugh, shaking his head before he looked back up at you, hesitating before taking a deep breath. “Anyway, as fate would have it, you didn’t get pregnant. I don’t have a kid out in the world. And for some reason, that doesn’t bring me any relief. It almost makes me feel… sad.”

Your brows knitted together as he finished his sentence. ‘Sad?’ you wondered. ‘He wanted me to have his child?’

“Don’t get me wrong,” Joshua said suddenly. “I’m glad you didn’t have to put your life on hold to raise a child alone. I’m glad your life went on and you were able to do the things you always talked about,” he added with a smile. It wasn’t the usual smirk you’d always gotten from him. It was a kind and genuine smile.

A very rare one.

“It also means, if you wanted, we could start over.”

Your eyes widened. ‘Start Over?’

“I realize that things have definitely changed but if you’ll let me,” he continued. “I’d like to do things properly this time. Take you on a real date. Court you properly in a way that won’t make your dad hate me,” he added. You let out an unexpected chuckle.

“He doesn’t hate you,” you replied. “He has no idea what we got up to all those years ago.” Joshua felt relieved, feeling his body relax just a little more. “As for starting over,” you continued and Joshua tensed up again. ‘Here it goes,’ he told himself.

“I’d love to, actually.”

Joshua froze, staring at you unblinking for a few moments.

“Wait,” he said softly. “Really?” he asked. You nodded, letting out a giggle as the realization of your words dawned on him. “Oh, shit. Sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I'm just… honestly, I'm shocked. I thought for sure you'd turn me down!” You let out another giggle, watching his excitement rise.

“How does Saturday sound? We can go get coffee. Or go to a museum. Or a movie if you’d prefer that? Whatever you want to do!” You smiled as he rambled on, listing off idea after idea for a first date. You reached up, covering his mouth to cut his rambling off.

“Coffee and a museum sounds great.”

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

You were able to help Joshua finish his projects and set them aside to dry for the rest of the day before the show the following day. Joshua got ready the next morning, a mix of nerves and tension. Not because of the show but because of seeing you again.

When you agreed to start over and go on a date with him, he’d been over the moon and riding that high the whole way home but upon waking the next morning, he was a ball of nerves.

He arrived early at the church, dressed in a nice pair of khakis and a navy blue suit jacket. He’d packed a pair of jeans to change into after the show to help take things down and keep his clothes nice and clean. Setting up was simply putting sets in place and making sure all the costumes and props were ready to go.

Joshua was mainly in charge of handing out programs, and making sure the ushers did their jobs escorting people to their seats. It wasn’t a hard job particularly, but most of the ushers were young teenage boys who liked to mess around. Not that Joshua blamed them. He was a teenage boy once. He understood.

The doors to the church opened at six pm, allowing for an hour for the guests and congregation to find their seats. It was an hour full of ‘welcome’ and ‘would you like a program?’ By the time the show was about to start, Joshua was internally cringing for sounding like a parrot the whole time.

As the last few of the guests trickled in, Joshua’s heart skipped a beat. You’d arrived with your parents and it was all he could do to not stare at you as you walked closer, chatting with your mother. Instead, he allowed himself to look quickly over your body, taking in the ensemble you’d chosen.

As you and your parents drew nearer, a genuine smile spread across his face unlike the one he’d been forcing earlier. “Ah, Joshua,” your father said upon noticing him. “How good to see you again.” You turned your head, gaze falling on Joshua and he could have sworn, he’d seen your eyes sweep over him quickly as well as the look you gave him. 

It made blood rush to his head and not the one with the smile on it.

“Good evening, Father Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N,” Joshua said with a nod before his eyes fell on you. “Y/N,” he added with a smile. “Would you like a program?” one of the teenage boys to Joshua’s left asked, interrupting the moment as yours and Joshua’s eyes had been locked on one another.

“Yes, thank you,” your father answered, taking two from the boy and handing one to his wife. You looked back at Joshua, glancing at the programs in his hands. “Could I have one of those?” you asked softly. There was a tone to your voice. Almost like you were asking for something more than the program but all the same, Joshua nodded, handing one over to you.

“Enjoy the show,” he said as your parents started to head into the nave. “Thanks,” you replied, opening the program and glancing over it quickly before looking up at him. “See you after the show?” you asked, a hint of hope to your voice. Joshua nodded, heart skipping as a smile spread over your face.

“See you after the show, then,” you said softly before following your parents inside.

Joshua stood at the back of the nave, against the wall as the show started but he couldn’t focus on his students standing on stage and acting out the birth of Jesus. All he could focus on was you sitting three rows from the back, eyes forward as you watched with what anyone else would assume was rapt attention.

Joshua might have as well if he hadn’t caught you turning to gaze back at him before the lights dimmed.

The whole show, Joshua kept his eyes on you, watching every shift, every light chuckle, and the way you leaned over to whisper something to your mother. In the low lighting he could still see the way your lips pulled into a smile as you let out a soft laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

He felt like he could look at you for hours but he’d never admit it for fear of sounding like a creep.

So he’d keep that to himself.

When the show finally ended, the lights came back on and the guests started to trickle out while the staff started to slowly clean up the stage. Joshua made a point of making sure to wish everyone a goodnight and a Merry Christmas.

Thankfully, you and your parents were among the few to remain behind, your father speaking to the other pastor. Joshua saw your head turn in his direction, watching you speak a few words to your mother before following the crowd in his direction.

He looked away quickly, continuing to say goodbye to the guests as they passed him. Moments later, you joined him. “Found you,” you said softly, making him chuckle. “Now what?” you asked. Joshua smiled, after turning from a guest.

“Now I have to help clean up,” Joshua answered. “Could I stay and help?” you asked suddenly.

Joshua’s eyes widened but before he could answer, another voice spoke up.

“You ready to head home, dear?” your mother asked, drawing your attention. You glanced over at Joshua quickly before speaking. “Actually, I think I'm going to stay behind and help clean up,” you replied, smiling at your parents. You noticed the way your father glanced at Joshua and back. 

“How will you get home?” he asked. Joshua looked at your parents.

“I can drop her off, if you’d like,” he offered. 

Your mother cooed at the kind gesture. “Oh, you don’t have to go out of your way to do that,” she started but Joshua shook his head. “I don’t mind at all,” he explained. “It’s not out of the way and it’s been a while since Y/N and I have seen one another. Could give us some more time to catch up while I drive her.”

Your mother smiled at him, throwing an unreadable glance your way before she turned to your father. “Y/N will be fine,” she started. “Let’s get home before the snow starts, dear.” Your father nodded and looked at you. “Don’t be too late,” he said softly. “We have plans in the morning.”

You nodded and waved them off as they exited the room before turning to Joshua. “You didn’t have to offer to drive me,” you said softly as you moved to stand beside him and help taking down the set. “It’s nothing,” Joshua replied. “Like I said, it gives us a chance to properly talk.”

The task of taking down the set wasn’t nearly as complex as putting it up and soon you were walking out of the church with Joshua, heading to his black sedan. He unlocked the door and opened it for you, only shutting it once you were safely inside before heading around to the driver’s side and getting in.

Joshua started the car, pulling out of his parking space and following the line of cars heading out of the parking lot, turning onto the road and following your directions towards your parents house. Small flurries had started to fall, collecting on the grass and starting to pile.

You chatted animatedly while Joshua drove, following your directions that led out of town to your parent’s farm. It wasn’t far out of the city but it was still a considerable distance from the town.

You glanced over to find Joshua looking at you before he looked back at the road, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he replied. “I just like listening to you.” Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burned as you looked away.

Your heart was thudding in your chest, the tension from earlier in the supply room returning as you had both essentially cucked yourselves. You were still needy but you couldn’t tell if it was just your or if Joshua felt it too.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Joshua asked softly, glancing at you and you shrugged. “I just like looking at you,” you replied. Joshua let out a chuckle, checking his rearview mirror and his smile fell instantly. “What the-?” he cut himself off. You noticed the flashing of red and blue lights from behind and your heart sank. ‘Are you serious?’ you wondered, turning in your seat to look out the back window.

Joshua slowed the car, pulling onto the shoulder before putting the car in park. He waited patiently as the cop car stopped behind him, lights still flashing as the officer got out of the vehicle and started heading towards the driver’s side window. Joshua rolled it down as the officer drew level.

“Evening, officer,” he said pleasantly. “What seems to be the problem?” The officer leaned down to look into the car and noticed you. “Where are you two headed?” he asked, directing his attention at you. “My parents’,” you answered. “They live outside the city on their farm.”

The officer turned his attention to Joshua. “The roads are starting to ice in places,” he explained. “Just warning everyone before something awful happens. You make sure to get where you’re going and soon,” he continued. Joshua nodded. “Are we free to go?” he asked to which the officer nodded.

“Just make sure to be careful.”

Joshua thanked the officer and waited for him to return to his vehicle before putting the car in drive and pulling off the shoulder as he sped back up to the normal speed for the highway. “Am I the only one that was shitting bricks back there?” he asked, a shocked laugh escaping him.

You shook your head. “No, I was kinda freaking out a little, too. I was wondering what we could have possibly done to warrant being pulled over.” Joshua nodded as he checked his rearview but the cop car was no longer in sight, nor were the flashing lights.

“I wasn’t speeding and I know for a fact that my tail lights work just fine,” he explained. “I almost thought it was going to be a sobriety check,” he continued. You nodded as he continued to drive, adrenaline coursing through your body. “Turn up here,” you voiced, pointing at the country road.

Joshua slowed, turning his blinker on and made the right turn onto the first of many country roads to get to your parents’ farm. He turned on his brights, illuminating the edges of the roads. The snow was coming down even heavier, blanketing the grass and starting to gather on the road.

“I’m going to have a time trying to get back home through this,” he whispered more to himself but you still heard him clearly. “Maybe my parents won’t mind if you stay the night in the guest room,” you replied. “I’m sure my mother would feel better if you stayed rather than go back into all of this.”

Joshua felt a stirring in his chest and stomach at the thought of spending the night at your parents’ house, so close to you and yet unable to have you. He had half a mind to turn back and head to his place instead but reminded himself he’d already told your parents he’d bring you home.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” he replied. You shook your head. “Just watch,” you said softly as you looked out the window. “She won’t let you leave and she’ll insist you stay in the guest room.”

“Wanna bet?” Joshua asked, looking at you and back at the road. “Okay,” you said quickly. “If I win, I get to pick where we go on our date,” you said, making him laugh. “And if I win?” he asked, glancing at you. “You can pick a time and place and do whatever you want to me.”

Joshua’s face burned and he hid his shock with a cough and clearing of his throat. “Alright,” he replied.

“You’re on.”

Suffice it to say, Joshua lost the bet instantly. As soon as he pulled up, Joshua insisted on walking you to the door to make sure you got up the steps safely. The door opened almost instantly and he was very quickly ushered inside by your father. Not long after, your mother appeared and began fussing.

Joshua tried to refuse but you had been right and your mother insisted he stay until morning. Joshua caught your eye and smiled, returning the same smile you were currently giving him.

“Show our guest to the guest bedroom, Y/N,” your mother said, drawing your attention. “Make sure he knows where the towels and extra linens are. And where the flashlight is just in case we lose power.”

You nodded to your mother to show you heard her instructed and beckoned Joshua to follow you through the hallway to the right. “The house is a true ranch style,” you explained as you passed a half bathroom. “Three bedrooms and two baths on this side,” you continued.

“This is the guest bedroom,” you said, stopping at a door and opening it, flipping the light on.

It wasn’t anything grand or spectacular. There was a queen size bed with light natural toned linens. The bedframe, dresser, two nightstands and bench at the end of the bed were part of the same set. Against the back wall at the head of the bed was a large picture window with curtains drawn mostly shut. To the right was a doorway into a dark room.

“Guest bathroom,” you explained, leading him over to it and turning on the light. It was a standard bathroom with a vanity and double sink, a separate room for the toilet and a shower tub combo with a glass rolling door.

“The towels are in here,” you explained, walking over to the sink and opening a lower cabinet door to reveal shelves stocked with towels. “There’s some generic shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in here,” you added, pointing to another cabinet door.

You turned off the light and ushered him back into the bedroom before leading him over to a door in the wall opposite the bathroom and slid it open to reveal a closet with built-in-shelves. “We keep the extra linens in here. Pillows, blankets, sheets, etcetera,” you said, showing him inside the closet.

You shut the door and walked back over to the door to the hallway.

Joshua walked over and peered into the hall for any sign of your parents. “And where’s your room?” he asked softly, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer. You jerked your head gesturing down the hall. “Last door,” you replied. Joshua glanced at the door and then back at you.

“And your parents?” he asked nervously. “Other side of the house is where the master suite is,” you answered. “So opposite sides.” Joshua’s brow raised and he offered a cheeky smile before letting go of you. “She get you all squared away?” your father asked with a smile. Joshua nodded.

“Yep, all set,” he answered. “Alright, we’ll we’re heading to bed,” he announced, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. “Don’t stay up too late,” he said, shooting the both of you a smile before he headed down the hall towards the living room.

“We should probably turn in as well,” you said softly. Joshua nodded, although he really didn’t want you to go to your room and be so far away from him but it’s not like it was another world. You were down the hall. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Even with the daylight, I’ll still have a drive ahead of me.”

Well, goodnight,” you said shyly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. As you pulled away, Joshua pulled you in for a proper kiss, nuzzling his nose against yours before letting you pull away again. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he murmured, smiling as you bit your bottom lip and turned to retreat to your bedroom.

He shut the door of the guest room and walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets. He mentally cursed, forgetting to turn off the light and walked over, flipping the switch off and returning to the bed. He stripped himself of his pants, folding and setting them neatly on top of the dresser before climbing into the bed and pulling the covers up, sighing in relief to find the bed was actually pretty comfortable.

He wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get, knowing you were just down the hall but he rolled onto his side, shutting his eyes and hoping exhaustion would catch up with him and that sleep would come soon.

You had changed into your sleep shirt, tossed your dirty clothes in the hamper and made your way to your bed, turning your light off on the way and climbing into your nest of blankets and pillows. Laying back against the pillows, arms crossed, you stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on getting rid of the throbbing ache between your legs.

‘It was just a stupid kiss,’ you told yourself. ‘Why are you getting so worked up over a kiss?’

You rolled onto your side and tried to will yourself to sleep but the throbbing just made you press your thighs together to find some sort of relief only none would come. You were still tense and turned on from your encounter in the church back room with Joshua and your new panties were already sticking to you.

‘I guess I’ll just take them off!’

You shimmied out of your panties and tossed them in the direction of the hamper. You were settling back when you had a great idea. “No panties,” you murmured. “It just might work.”

You pulled back the covers and got out of bed, tiptoeing over to the door and opening it quietly. You hoped that Joshua was still awake. It hadn’t been that long but you were sure he was exhausted so he might have fallen asleep already. You crept down the hall, listening for any sound of your parents.

Upon reaching the door, you knocked lightly, calling Joshua’s name through the wood.

The first time, there was no answer so you tried again. This time you heard a muffled “yeah?” through the door and opened it. “Y/N?” Joshua asked through the dark. “Are you okay?” he asked, propping himself up. It was dark but you could still make out his silhouette from the built-in bathroom nightlight.

“Is everything oka- Y/N? Yah, what are you doing?” Joshua hissed as you shut the door and snuck over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. “We’re gonna get caught and then your dad is going to throw me out into the snow,” he continued as you snuggled up to him. “No he won’t” you whispered back.

Joshua opened his mouth to retort but you cut him off with a kiss, one that he immediately leaned into. “You created a problem,” you murmured against his lips, pulling him closer so his chest was flush with yours. “Problem?” Joshua asked in between your kisses.

“What kind of problem?”

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding it down between your thighs. Joshua’s eyes shot open as he realized you’d gotten into the bed without any shorts or underwear on. ‘Fuck.’

“Are you insane?” he hissed but you ignored him, pushing him onto his back as you climbed on top of him. “Y/N,” Joshua said, his voice low like it was a warning. You leaned over, taking his face in your hands as you kissed him. You felt his arms wrap around your back, holding you against him as he kissed you back. “If I get killed by your dad, I’m coming back to haunt your ass,” he murmured before sitting up.

You let out a soft giggle as he took your hands from his face and pushed you onto your back, hovering over you as his hips rested against yours. On instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a gasp as the cloth of his underwear brushed against you, giving you a minute amount of friction.

“If we’re going to do this,” Joshua said softly, one hand moving up to cup your cheek as he looked into your eyes. “You’re going to have to keep it down,” he continued, thumb stroking your cheek. “Can you do that for me, angel?” You nodded eagerly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Of course. I promise.”

The moment the words left your lips, Joshua rolled over, pulling you on top of him, guiding your hips over his growing erection. You breathed out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut as you followed his guidance. “Show me how bad you want it,” Joshua murmured, hands sliding from your hips up to your waist, pushing your sleep shirt up and glancing down at your naked lower half.

You grinded against him, leaving a trail of your arousal on his underwear. He’d have to wash them the minute he got home. “Hang on baby,” he murmured, halting your movements. You pouted at him as he chuckled, guiding you off his lap before he shimmied out of his underwear to avoid you soiling it any further.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding his hand out which you took eagerly, allowing him to guide you back on his lap, his half hard cock resting against his abdomen. “Sit down,” he instructed, his voice breathless as you did so, letting out a whimper before covering your mouth with your hand.

“Sorry, Shua,” you whispered, looking down at him. “Just feels so good.” Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek tenderly. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured before taking your hips in his hands. “Come on now,” he urged. “Show me how badly you want my cock.”

You whined softly, grinding against him with renewed vigor, the heat of his cock against you driving you crazy. “Please, Shua,” you mumbled, trying to keep the volume of your voice down. “Please let me ride you. Wanna feel it inside me.”

Hearing your breathless voice whining for his cock almost made him break his resolve but he wanted to tease you just a bit longer. “No,” he replied, his fingers digging into your hips. “Keep going, baby girl. Show me just how bad you need it and then I’ll let you have it.”

You let out another whine, a little louder this time, grinding harder and feeling the underside of his cock drag through your slick folds against your clit. Your thighs shook from the sensation, fingers curling into the sheets on either side of Joshua’s head.

“That’s it,” he urged. “Keep going. Just like that.”

Joshua’s hands moved your hips faster, guiding you over his cock and pulling you against him at the same time. You let out a gasp, shuddering at the feeling, trying to fight against Joshua’s grip but failing as he pushed and pulled your hips, bucking up into you with a stifled groan.

“J-Josh,” you stammered, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself up. Sensing your arms were about to give out, Joshua sat up, rolling you over onto your back and pinning you under him as his hips rested against yours, settling between your thighs. “You know how hard it was for me to not pull over earlier into an empty lot and fuck you in the car?” he whispered, rolling his hips as his lips brushed against your jaw, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“How hard I was thinking about doing just that?”

You whimpered, holding back a moan as his cock continued to glide through your folds.

“About as hard as I am right now,” he continued. “Josh, please. I need you,” you whimpered softly, choking back a sob. Joshua lifted his head to take in the sight of your eyes shining with unshed tears, a pout on your lips. He moved a hand up to your cheek, cooing at you.

“Aww, poor baby. Feels so good?” he asked. You nodded, fighting back the urge to cry. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, rutting against you. “Bet I’d slip right in,” he continued. You nodded, babbling incoherent words between your pleas for him to fuck you.

“Shhh,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, pausing as you parted your lips and allowed his thumb into your mouth, sucking on the tip. “God, I just wanna use that pretty mouth of yours so bad,” he murmured, watching your lips wrap around his knuckle.

He could feel your tongue against his thumb, swirling around it lazily.

“Is that okay?” he asked softly, making you open your eyes. “Can I use your mouth, beautiful?” His cock twitched against you when you nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he pulled his thumb from your mouth and pushed himself up. “Come here,” he murmured as he sat back against the headboard, helping you up and guided your hand to his cock now coated in your arousal.

You started stroking him languidly, making him choke back a moan. “Use your mouth, pretty,” he urged. “Show me what a slut you are for my cock.” No sooner than the words were out of his mouth, he had to bite down on his knuckles as you took him in your mouth, bobbing your head as you held the base of the shaft firmly. “F-fuck, baby,” he groaned.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you. “Take all of it like a good girl, I know you can.”

You moved your hand, sinking down until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat. Joshua moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing down just a little more, letting out a shudder when you gagged around his cock. He let you back up for air, praising your efforts.

“Just like that, keep going.”

You wrapped your fingers around his cock, stroking it faster before spitting on the tip, making Joshua hiss. “Fuck,” he moaned, trying to keep the sound in the back of his throat. “When did you turn into such a dirty slut?” he asked, holding back another moan as you took him back in your mouth, sinking down all the way again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten such sloppy head and watching you try and swallow him down was making it harder and harder to hold back his orgasm.

He was about to just fuck your mouth and be done with it when you pulled off, noticing his cock twitching. “Gonna cum?” you asked looking up at him. Joshua shook his head, grabbing your wrist. “Not yet,” he answered. “Come here.” He pulled you into a messy kiss, ignoring the salty taste of his precum on your tongue as he guided you onto your back.

Your thighs spread as he settled between them, leaning onto his side a little to open you up for him.

He brought two fingers to your mouth. “Open,” he instructed. You did as he said, taking his fingers in your mouth and coating them in your saliva. Joshua pulled them from your mouth, moving them down to your sex and rubbing them against your slick folds before pushing past them and teasing your slit.

You sighed as he pushed one finger in first, curling it carefully and pumping it in and out before adding the second. Once he was knuckles deep, he started curling his fingers against your walls, thumb brushing over your clit as he kept his gaze on your face.

You moaned softly, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him down to hide your face. “Feel good, baby?” he whispered in your ear. You nodded with a muffled whine. Joshua chuckled as he continued to finger you, stretching your walls as he scissored you open, prepping you to take his cock.

The tension had started when you were grinding on him but that had been localized to your clit. This tension was more. Your clit and inside your stomach like a rubber band being pulled back and increasing the tension. Soon you were going to snap. “Shua!” you gasped, thighs threatening to close and they would have had he not been leaning against on, pinning it to the mattress under his weight.

“You gonna come for me, pretty?” he asked softly. You nodded, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your moan. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Come for me.” Your back arched off the mattress as your orgasm drew closer and closer. “S-Shua,” you whined in hid neck.

Joshua pulled back to look down at you. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his in the dark room and the smirk that spread over his face had yours burning. “Keep them open,” he urged. “Wanna watch you cum. Look at me when you cum,” he added.

You whined, walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm started to wash over you. Joshua held your gaze as his fingers fucked you through your first orgasm of the night. You whined, hips following his movements until you were begging him to stop.

Joshua let out a soft chuckle as he pulled his fingers out of your soaking cunt. “So pathetic and pretty when you cum,” he murmured, bringing his fingers coated in your essence to your lips. “Open for me,” he continued, sliding his fingers over your tongue when you parted your lips.

“Clean them for me.”

While your tongue lapped at his fingers, he pushed your sleep shirt up with his free hand, exposing your chest. “Fuck, I missed these,” he murmured, hand ghosting over your chest. He pulled his fingers from your lips, chucking when you pouted and whined for his fingers back.

“I promise you’ll get them back in a bit, baby. Let me take care of this first,” he murmured, tugging your shirt up and off when you finally sat up for him. His shirt was quick to join the pile of discarded clothes on the floor as he knelt between your thighs. “Shit, wait,” he said hesitating. “Do you have a condom?” he asked. You waved towards the guest bathroom, still coming down from your high.

Joshua climbed off the bed and snuck into the bathroom, opening the drawers as quietly as he could, finding an unopened box of condoms in the back of one of the drawers. ‘Jackpot,’ Joshua thought to himself as he carefully and quietly opened the box, placing it back in the drawer before shutting it and returning to you. He tore open the foil packet, pulling out the latex and carefully rolled it on.

Once securely on, he climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between your thighs and grabbing your hips to pull you against him. He took the base of his cock in his hand guiding the head to rub against your clit, making you whine in anticipation. Joshua spit into his hand and added it to the lubrication on the condom and rested the tip against your slit.

“You still with me, angel?” he asked, looking down at you. Your eyes opened to meet his and nodded. “I’m still here,” you replied. “Want you so bad, Shua,” you whined. Joshua fought the urge to laugh at how cute you were. “Open them a little more,” he said, tapping the inside of your thigh with his free hand. You spread your legs a little wider, groaning as you felt him start to push the head of his cock into you.

“Mmm, fuck,” Joshua swore under his breath. “So tight and warm,” he breathed out, easing his way in, gliding against your walls. Your thighs fell open wide as he bottomed out, letting all of him in. “Good girl,” he murmured, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Taking me so well.”

You gasped as he gave you a shallow thrust. “Sore?” he asked and you shook your head. “N-no,” you stuttered. “Feels so good. So full.” Joshua smirked against your skin, pulling back and giving you a singular thrust, relishing in the sound that escaped your lips and the way your walls clenched around him. “So. Fucking. Tight,” he hissed in between thrusts.

“But taking me so well. Like you’re my own personal slut,” he groaned, hips setting a steady pace as he thrust into you. “My own little fuck toy, right?” he asked. You nodded weakly. Joshua scoffed, fingers closing around your throat firmly but not so tight you couldn’t breathe.

“Answer me, you dirty little slut,” he growled. “Yes,” you gasped. Joshua raised a brow. “Yes what?” He slowed his hips, allowing you a moment to speak. “I’m your little fuck toy,” you whispered. He smirked, picking up the pace, his hips hitting your ass. “If only your father could see his little girl right now. Getting railed by the Sunday school teacher.”

You whined, your hands wrapping around his wrist as he held you down by the throat. Your walls fluttered around him and he chuckled softly. “Of course the little slut likes getting choked,” he scoffed. “Such a dirty whore,” he murmured. “Too bad you aren’t more of a brat,” he continued. “Would love to fuck the attitude out of you.”

“Shuh-Shua!” you whined. His pace quickened, releasing your throat and moving his hand up to your mouth. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed immediately, welcoming his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. “Gonna fuck you for real now,” he muttered, his free hand moving up your stomach to your chest, squeezing and kneading.

“Should I turn you over and fuck your like the slut you are?”

You moaned against his fingers and Joshua chuckled lightly, pulling his fingers from your mouth before pulling out of you, giving your pussy a light slap when you whined in protest. “Turn over on your stomach,” he ordered. You rolled over, muffling a squeal as he grabbed your hips and lifted them, grabbing one of the pillows and folding it in half to place under your stomach.

Once he was satisfied, he guided the head of his cock back to your entrance, pushing into you with ease and taking both your hips in his hands. “Now you really need to be quiet,” he warned. You cried out into the sheets, muffling your moans and mewls as Joshua pounded into you from behind You were sure the sound of his skin hitting yours would wake your parents up but surprisingly, you didn’t hear a peep from them.

“Fuck,” Joshua groaned, hands sliding to squeeze your ass. “Next time I think I’d like to fuck your ass,” he growled, letting out a breathless laugh when your walls tightened around him. “Does my little cockslut want that? Want me to fuck your ass? Bet you’d even let me do it without a condom, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded fervently, keeping your face hidden in the sheets. “And I bet you’d let me fill you up. Just fill your ass with cum and turn you into my own personal cum dumpster. Wouldn’t you?” You nodded again, gasping as you felt his nails dig into the flesh of your ass.

“I’d fuck you so hard you would be able to sit or walk,” he groaned, hips faltering as his own orgasm drew closer. “Fuck, m’not gonna last much longer. You close, angel?” You whined in the sheets, begging him for more. “Touch yourself then, sweetheart. Do what sluts do and get yourself off. Cum on my cock like a good little slut.”

Your hand darted between your thighs, fingers finding your clit and working circles around it in time with Joshua’s thrusts. With each pass over your clit and drag of his cock against your walls, your orgasm drew near. The tension pooling in your abdomen snapped and you released, a gush of warm liquid rushing out of you as you came with a muffled cry.

Joshua wasn’t far behind, the spasming of your cunt pushing him over the edge and he leaned over your back, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he emptied into the condom, hips riding out both your climaxes until he finally slowed to a stop.

After a couple moments, Joshua pulled from you, letting out a deep inhale as he pulled the condom off and tied it off before getting off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You could hear the faucet in the sink running before it shut off and Joshua returned with a wet washcloth, starting to wipe you down and clean you up.

Once he’d finally wiped the remnants of your release from your lips and thighs, he helped you put your shirt back on before pulling his and his underwear back on and settling under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

Silence washed over you before he finally spoke. “So, this isn’t exactly the way I wanted things to go,” he murmured in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek and tugging your closer. “But I still really want to take you on a proper date.”

A smile spread across your face and you turned to look back at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’d really like that,” you said softly. Joshua’s lips spread into a smile before he pressed a couple of chaste kisses to your lips. “But only if we can keep having mind-blowing sex afterwards,” you whispered, making him bite back a laugh.

“I think I can manage that, angel.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[xyurishux]

CHAPTER 1 - AS A WHOLE, TOGETHER

Word Count: ~1.7k

Tags: GN!reader, Mentions of family disputes

Summary: You begin to tell Sebastian how deep UrbanShades rabbit hole truly goes, starting with yourself.

Pardon any writing errors, they may happen!

“ oh sweetie, you’re not ugly, society is,”

“So,

When I was younger, life was as normal as can be. I was in mediocre family, it was me, my mom and my dad. I’d only see my mom in the morning, and when I was back from school my dad would be home for dinner. It wasn’t until way later I learned about his job, but that isn’t relevant right now. My dad was a mystery to me, he’s my dad but I didn’t know much to anything about him. I saw him everyday when I got home but it’s was for such a small period of time, did it even count?

Life was so mundane and repetitive. Go to school, pass tests, summer break then restart it all over again. Life was boring but it wasn’t difficult.

I would do anything to be back there…” You paused looking out into the ocean, it was dark you could mistake it for the above, only simply at night. You breathe out from your nose continuing on with your story.

 “Anyways, it was back in September of 2009 when my father got a promotion. Seeing his face 4 to 5 hours per day dwindled down to seeing him once every two weeks or so, usually on Sundays. He became an enigma.

“You see, something I couldn’t see at the time was that as I grew older, his need to be in my life lowered, and sadly, that same fate fell too with my mother by default.

His job already took a toll on their relationship. Only spending 4 to 5 hours with your partner every day over the span of five years isn’t so great.

My mother would see him as much as I did and now, he just wasn’t there. The signs of a falling relationship presented themselves beforehand, but now it was obvious to anyone that the only thing keeping them together was me. At least, for my mom that was the case.

“The house was more silent than it ever was empty…”

You looked to the side with your eyes to see Sebastians full attention on you, perhaps it was the story? Or maybe he didn’t have anything better to do or it might have been the way your voice spoke with full sincerity and no sarcasm. It was like someone else took control but it was undoubtedly you and he was fully enthralled.

Your eyes met and you looked back down at the cold tile as you carried on.

“Ether way, it was in November of that same year where things would shift. My mom would realize the steady money flowing in and at growing amounts. Now you have to understand that my mother isn’t of the suspicious type nor is she a person who comes up with wild conclusions. She was (and still is, I hope) a reasonable and sensible woman. She knew that this wasn’t a simple ‘promotion’, but to know where all this money came from, well…she didn’t have the slightest clue. She didn’t know and she would never know. Well, truly know…

“The first snow started to fall as December began and Winter break freed me from my studying. Shockingly, dad came home for the holidays and New Years. Funny anecdote, I remember getting my first iPhone as a gift from him that year. It was an iPhone 3GS, God the memories…my mother was not pleased in slightest.” You laughed silent tilting your head to the side as your reminisced, it was good and loyal phone…

 “Continuing on, after Christmas as a family and with the family the next day, my parents had the only disagreement I’ve ever witnessed (only a disagreement, it wasn’t enough to count as a fight).

I think it was about 2 am and the only light that was on was the one above the kitchen table. My dad was sitting facing my mother who standing up, the last of the family who came over for the party had finally left. Chip bowls and wine glasses were still scattered on the coffee table, only barely visible by the outside Christmas lights. I watched as my mom tapped her nails against the wooden chair she was partly leaning on as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was tired, exhausted even but I could also tell she had something bugging her and she needed to let it out. I watched them from the darkness that the staircase provided, I was undetectable. I listened to them talk, leaning my upper body to the wooden railing trying not to miss a single word. I don’t remember much; it was about the money at first but it was nothing compared to what my mother said next.”

“Samantha, look- “

“I’m breaking up with you”

“My mother broke up with my father. I sat upon the steps dumbfounded, I didn’t expect that from their conversation but even then, I didn’t know what to expect. The last of the conversation consisted of my father staying silent and staring at the table as my mom talked important matters to him. She told him that she would stay for the New Years and then move in with a friend in an apartment she found. After that she finished the glass of wine my dad poured for her at the start and left the kitchen when he didn’t have anything to add.

I’m pretty sure that night was the only time I saw my dad cry. He was still in love with her, never ever once thinking of ending their relationship. Never ever once thinking of loving another woman.

 Most children would walk down the stairs they sat on and go comfort their weeping father or at least ask if he was okay. But our relationship was so estranged to the point where I felt no reason to go down and comfort him. He simply was just my father, nothing else nothing more.

I watched him cry silently with his head in his hand as I sat on the steps with my legs close to my chest. I sat there for a few more minutes. I don’t know why I sat there watching for so long. Maybe I was intrigued with the sight, it was something new. A man I’ve know all my life was a mystery to me and now the last sight I might ever see of him is him crying his heart out. But soon enough I got tired, I walked back up to my bedroom and fell asleep to noise of the on going shower my mom was taking downstairs.

The next morning felt cold and unbalanced. The floor was cold to the touch and it was actually closer to noon then morning. The hall was silent as I walked down it and saw at the end of it that my mom was packing a suitcase and a large duffle bag. They were both placed on the bed with an equal amount of folded and unfolded clothes thrown around the two. It was enough to be unable to see the white and blue floral comforter underneath (or I remember it to be enough). I walked into the room and as if I didn’t witness the scene at the kitchen table last night I asked, “Are we going somewhere?”

She was so concentrated with her packing that she jumped startled when she heard my voice. With her hand over her heart, she turned to me with a forced smile (I knew that it was) and spoke words that I will never forget.”

“What were they?” Sebastian asked quietly, his full upper body now laying against the desk where you two sorted files on together almost an hour ago.

You smiled, “Well,

“Sweetheart! You scared me there,” She said, her smile faltering, “No, mommy is going somewhere, alone, but not forever. You’ll have to stay with dad for awhile.” She turned her head away as she folded a few pants and placed them into her suitcase. Then she squatted, and I had to look down to see her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes wet. I felt her hands on my upper arms as she continued to talk, “Mommy, mommy needs to go find herself for a bit, okay? Not for long but mommy needs this…I love you, eternally and always”

She left the same day with kiss on the forehead, her phone number seared into my mind and a “Be good while I’m gone, I’m a single phone call away”

And then I was there, at my door step, cold and watching as my mom entered her friend’s car with one last kiss blown to me. I caught it and placed it onto my cheek as she drove off. Now it was me and my estranged father and a lot of complex emotions I didn’t know how to decipher or begin to understand at the age of ten.”

You finished, pausing to take a breath for a second while also stretching your aching muscles.

“And then what? What does this have to do with us? With me?” Sebastian asked harshly as he raised himself from the desk.

“Give me a second, I need water and a snack, I’m a bit peckish,” you joked, smirking to him, before continuing, “Ether way, we’re barely getting into the meat of the story. I was just explaining how I got stuck with my father. Now will be getting into what he was doing

behind closed doors…”

And we start rolling, ~

@splatting-stampede

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 26

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military Universe

Words: 5k

TW: Violence

Masterlist

———————————————————————

 Wednesday, December 23; 8:00 PM - Home

A few days have passed since I returned to Barcelona. I’ve never enjoyed a vacation so much. There hasn't been a single moment of boredom. Mapi has practically been living at my place since I got back. As usual, her parents are off living their own lives without her, so she’s living hers without them. Sunday was fantastic. Joan was over the moon when we took him to the amusement park. He hadn’t realized I’d be staying for two whole weeks, so when he understood I’d be here longer than usual, he was ecstatic.

I haven’t told him yet that I’ll be leaving earlier for New Year’s, but he’ll probably be too busy to notice. As always, my mom and Marcus will take him to celebrate New Year’s with friends who have a child his age. In any case, I’ll make a resolution to keep in touch with him more regularly. He’s missed me so much that she hasn’t left our side even once. Not during our movie and TV marathon on Saturday, not during our day at the skate park the next day, and especially not when we went to the ice rink. Those were incredible days.

Today, we decided it would be a relaxation day. Joan is at a friend’s house, so we spent our morning at the beauty salon. We got waxed and had our nails done for Christmas Eve. My family will be coming over tomorrow. I usually take care of myself, but this time we wanted to be pampered. Well, it was mainly Mapi who was dying for it. She couldn’t let go of the idea. So, I sucked it up and wore clothes that didn’t require me to undress completely. She’s lucky I appreciate the results. We continued the day with lunch at a restaurant in town, and then we went to the pool. It was so much fun. It seems like it just opened, so there weren’t many people, and we could relax as we should.

Now, here we are, standing in line for the cinema. It must be around 8:00 PM. It’s a way to do something relaxing without being cooped up in my room. I found out while she was in the shower that she’s been harassed by Ana. Apparently, Ana is sorry and wants Mapi back. I was relieved to see she hadn’t responded to any of the texts, but also slightly hurt that she hadn’t told me. I respect her silence, though. I haven’t brought it up with her, afraid she might shut down. That doesn’t stop me from being a good friend. I noticed she’s been glancing at her phone whenever she gets the chance today. I sense she’s about to crack, so I’ve done everything in my power to keep her busy. It’s clear she’s not doing as well as she pretends, although I imagine our days full of activities help her not think about it.

It’s time to pay for our tickets. I don’t even know what movie we’re going to see. I let Mapi choose since I haven’t been keeping up with new releases while I was at Camp Wiegman. We have similar tastes, so I’m not worried. Mapi insists on stopping by the concession stand for some popcorn. I take the opportunity to grab a drink, which she ends up getting too. We then have our tickets validated and head into our theater. We’re half an hour early, so I’m not surprised to find the place empty. We settle in a corner at the top. Mapi is never quiet during a movie, no matter where we are. She has the annoying habit of commenting on every action. Needless to say, it annoys everyone around us. It used to irritate me too, but over time, I started commenting with her. We’ve gotten to the point where if we’re watching a movie at home, we pick one we’ve already seen to make sure we understand the content.

I still make the effort to go to the movies with her, thinking I can always rewatch the film online if it seems good. It reminds me that Lucy had offered to lend me some movies, but she never did. I doubt she remembers. That conversation must have been over a month ago. I feel a pang of guilt, realizing I haven’t written to her since returning to Miami. Then again, she hasn’t written to me either. After all, she’s just my supervisor; I shouldn’t worry. She’s made it clear more than once that we can’t be friends while I’m her student.

"Isn’t that Miller and Bryan down there?" Mapi asks me.

I scan the area, looking for two heads that could be our friends. I smile when I spot them a few rows below us, completely on the opposite side. It’s impossible for them to see us. I notice their little gestures of affection, which are so cute.

"Yeah, it looks like it."

"Should we call out to them? I mean, we could see them at the same time."

"They’re on a date, leave them alone. We’ll catch up with them after the movie."

Mapi nods in agreement. The lights dim shortly after. To be honest, I’m still having a hard time seeing them as a couple, but they’re so adorable. To think that a few years ago, it was us as a couple and them as best friends. At least Mapi and I were lucky not to lose each other. She clumsily apologized for kissing me spontaneously. I couldn’t blame her for needing affection. Few people manage to stay on good terms with their ex, but I’m glad we did. She was my rock back then, and I won’t forget what she did for me. My feelings were mixed when we first reconnected, but I quickly pushed them aside, realizing it wasn’t mutual anymore. I never knew if that was truly the case, but I guess she was just protecting herself.

The ads fade away, and the movie begins. As I predicted, Mapi comments on every action, but today it’s a bit different. She also starts complimenting the women in the film. She seems to find them beautiful and amazing She’s lucky I’m  lesbianand find some truth in her words; otherwise, I’d get bored quickly. I join in, telling her my preferences. I’ve always preferred brunettes, even dark-haired ones,I find them more attractive and mysterious.

“Tell me an actress you find hot.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Just because. Someone you’d want in your bed.”

“I don’t want anyone in my bed.”

“You know exactly what I mean! Like if you had the chance to go on a date with an actress... Or a celebrity, whatever. Who would you choose?”

“Your question is really dumb.”

“Come on, play along. Give me a name.”

I think about it, running my hand through my hair. I have no idea. I don’t have a favorite actress or anything like that.

“I don’t know. Mila Kunis?” I say randomly.

“Mila Kunis?” she repeats. “Hmm… Not bad, true. Does she look like Bronze?”

I roll my eyes. And there she goes again, bringing up the subject. I don’t know what’s gotten into her with Lucy lately, but she keeps asking me questions about her.

“No,” I shut down.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that I wonder what she looks like. I have the right to be curious. Here, compare her to Mila Kunis so I can get an idea.”

I can’t believe it when she pulls up a picture of the actress on her phone. I already know she won’t leave me alone until she gets her answers. I sigh and look at the photo carefully to make a comparison.

“Lucy has a much finer nose and much fuller lips. As for her eyes, they’re almond-shaped and green, much more sparkling than the dark eyes Mila Kunis has in this picture. And her hair leans more towards a brown shade than black.”

Mapi nods seriously. She seems to be creating an image of my supervisor in her head. Her silence makes me wonder if I went too far with my details. I realize just how much I’ve observed her to know so much about her appearance. She finally turns to me with a small smile forming on her lips.

“She must be cute.”

“She is.”

“Is she taller than you?”

I think back, trying to recall moments that might give me an answer to this question. I nod eventually.

“Yeah. But only by a few centimeters.”

“So, you claim you’re not interested in her, but you can tell me details like that about her?”

A smug smile spreads across her face, and I realize my mistake. I knew it was a bad idea to tell her all that.

“You’re exasperating, Mapi.”

“And yet, I didn’t even point out that you called her Lucy. So that’s her little name?”

I groan at her teasing. I slowly run my hand over my face to avoid losing my temper.

“Where’s her part in her hair?”

“Mostly in the middle, but sometimes she moves it to the left side.”

The words slip out before I can hold them back. I’m surprised myself at how easily I answered. How did I retain such subtle information about her? Damn brain. Mapi mocks me without restraint.

“Just as I thought.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she smiles foolishly.

“Yeah, whatever,” I mumble. 

I sink into my seat, crossing my arms, clearly upset that my mind could betray me like that. How did I answer so instinctively? Lucy is my supervisor. Sure, she’s beautiful and attractive, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested.

Mapi tries to insist one more time, but she’s met with "shhhhht" sounds from all around. I think we’ve reached our chatter limit. It doesn’t seem to calm Mapi, who starts laughing at every scene that’s even slightly funny. No matter how much I ask her to calm down, it feels like she’s doing it on purpose to annoy our neighbors. They’re starting to get really angry, but fortunately, the movie is coming to an end. I wouldn’t have bet on our safety if it had lasted any longer. We hurry out of the theater as soon as the credits roll to avoid facing the hateful glares of the other viewers. Sometimes I wonder if we’re really civilized. Right now, I’d say no. I instantly regret our rush when we run into the one person we would’ve wanted to avoid on this earth. Mapi instinctively takes a defensive stance in front of me. Feli doesn’t take her eyes off me for a second, as if I’m the only one there.

- "Ona-..."

- "Don’t talk to her," Mapi interrupts in a sharp tone.

- "That’s not for you to decide."

- "Forget it. Let’s go, Mapi..."

I grab her arm, and I couldn’t say if it’s to pull her away with me or to stop her from doing something she might regret—or not. Mapi stays rooted to the spot, glaring daggers at my ex. I can understand her urge to tear her apart for what she did, right here and now. However, this is neither the time nor the place. All I want is to get out of here. I realize that’s not her intention when she violently shakes off my grip.

- "Get out of the way," she growls.

- "No," she says, stepping forward. "You know, Ona... I thought I’d see you again after what I injected you with."

A shiver runs down my spine as she admits this, never taking her eyes off me. No... I can’t believe it. She didn’t just say that.

- "I’m disappointed to see you in such a normal state..."

I feel myself wavering as she manages to slip past Mapi’s defenses to stroke my hand. Her gesture, which should be gentle, sends me spiraling back into a whirlpool of memories. I’m disconnected from my senses until Mapi’s fist slamming into Feli’s face brings me back to reality. Her punch is so powerful that she crashes to the ground, her mouth agape.

- "That’s for what you did to my best friend. And this is for sleeping with my girlfriend, you bitch!"

Her words are followed by a kick to her stomach. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mapi this angry. I’m so caught up in the scene that I jump when an arm wraps around my shoulders. I struggle against the unexpected contact, but calm down when I see Bryan by my side. Meanwhile, Miller is grabbing my best friend by the waist, pulling her away from Feli before the situation escalates further. Security has been called. They arrived just in time to restrain my ex, who was about to fight back. The guys managed to defuse the situation by announcing our departure. However, Mapi isn’t willing to leave it at that.

"Don't let her go!" she spits out. "She's gone mad, and she's stalking my friend. She even just admitted in front of everyone that she drugged her to get her back! You better not let her follow us, or I'll press charges against you!"

"Mapi, that's enough," says Miller, trying to calm her down.

"No, it's not enough! That bitch deserves what’s coming to her!"

"Let's just leave, please."

Bryan nods and leads me towards the exit. Thankfully, Miller is strong enough to drag Mapi out with us after apologizing to the officers. I'm struggling to process the whole encounter. It feels like I'm in shock. Mapi keeps cursing under her breath to vent her frustration, which isn't helping me pull myself together. If the guys hadn't intervened, things could've gone really wrong. It's only when we get outside that Mapi notices my state. She immediately pulls me into her arms.

"Are you okay?" she murmurs.

I want to answer her, but no words come out. I try to nod to reassure her, but it’s all lies. Feli drugged me. She really drugged me to make me relapse. How can I be okay? I can't even tell if she went further because I have no memory of it. For all I know... No, I don't even want to think about it.

"How about we forget this whole incident by grabbing a drink?" Miller suggests. "We wanted to catch up, so now's the time."

Mapi agrees without consulting me, so I have no choice but to go along. Miller drives us there in his car. Mapi and I are in the back. She's set her anger aside to try to lift my spirits. It's a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort. When we get to the bar, I wait just long enough to order a drink before excusing myself. I need to be alone and get some air. Mapi didn’t want to let me go out alone, but Miller convinced her. I couldn’t be more grateful. I sit on the curb once outside, burying my head in my arms to collect my thoughts. The evening has gone by too fast. I can't fully grasp everything that happened. After a while, I pull my phone out of my pocket and fidget with it, debating whether to call her or not. I realize I should've done it days ago. I muster up the courage to do it now. One ring... Two... Three... My heart stops when the beeping ends.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoes in my head. I can't find the words to speak. My lower lip trembles so much it affects me. I never thought hearing her voice would make me feel so relieved.

"Ona?" she presses, sensing my silence.

I let my head fall back into my arms as a sob escapes, one I can't hold back. Why do I always turn to her only when I’m not okay? She deserves so much better, even if she doesn’t want me as a friend.

"I'm sorry for calling so late..." I say between sniffles.

« It’s not late in Manchester " she replies calmly. "What's going on?"

"No... I—We’re halfway through the week... I- I should’ve called you much sooner," I murmur.

"It doesn’t matter, as long as you're okay. But you're not, are you?"

"I'm sorry for only talking to you when I need something," I say, choking up.

"Hey, that’s not true, and you know it."

"Yes, it is!" I cry out.

"Don’t raise your voice like that," she scolds me.

"S-sorry... I-I shouldn’t have."

She sighs long and hard, making me cry even harder. I feel so pathetic. I shouldn’t have called her now. I couldn’t even talk to Mapi, so there’s no way I’d be able to do it with Lucy either. I should've waited until I was more composed.

"Hey, Ona. I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to tell me something. Anything," she orders sternly.

"You don’t have the right to give me orders from afar," I say, managing a weak smile.

I joke to lighten the mood. I hear her laugh, which warms my heart. I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and tighten my jacket, remembering I’m wearing hers. I couldn't find one that suited me when we were at the mall. I guess it’s because I’m already too attached to this one.

"I have every right over you. Have you forgotten?"

"It seems I have," I murmur.

"Enough joking... You didn’t call for no reason, did you?"

I groan, shaking my head. I feel foolish now that she's voicing the truth. I would've hung up a long time ago if I were her.

"Come on, spill it. You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t need to."

I rest my head on my arm, thinking for a moment. I do need this, that’s for sure, but how do I say it without breaking down completely? A silence falls between us that neither of us breaks. She’s waiting for an answer.

"It’s her..." I finally whisper.

"Her? You’ll have to be clearer if you want me to understand anything," she chuckles.

"Feli, my ex, the junkie. S-she’s the one who drugged me the other night. W-We ran into her with Mapi, and she admitted it. I—"

"Hey, calm down. Why are you reacting like this? Isn’t this supposed to be good news?" she asks. "It proves it wasn’t you who did it. That’s what you wanted to know, right? I think it’s a good thing. You didn’t relapse on your own."

How does she manage to find something positive in this mess?! I’m tearing my hair out, tormented. I know she's trying to reassure me, but she’d change her tune if she knew how seeing him again affected me. She can't know because she doesn’t know what he put me through.

"Well... If you say so..."

"Come on, dry your tears. You look so much cuter with a smile on your face."

She’s really trying to cheer me up. I smile timidly and run my fingers under my eyes to wipe away the black streaks of makeup that have probably run.

"So, how’s your vacation going, besides all that?" she suddenly changes the subject.

"Good... I’m enjoying it like you advised me to. And you?"

"Same here. I’m seeing my family and leaving for Portugal early tomorrow morning for a few days."

"You’re so lucky. I wish I could go back there too..."

"I can imagine. How’s Mapi? Is she doing better?"

"Yeah, she’s okay. We’re spending all our days together."

"Do you already have plans for New Year’s?"

"Yeah, I’m heading back to Manchester early. Leah and Alessia are hosting a party at their place."

"Oh. So Mapi agreed then."

"Yeah, it’ll be good for her to get a change of scenery. It was either that or we’d spend the night alone at my place."

"I see," she laughs. "That wouldn’t be the worst thing either."

"For you, maybe, but definitely not for Mapi. She’s never experienced anything like that at home."

"That’s a shame. Do you already know where you’ll be staying before school starts again?"

I stay silent. Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. Lucy laughs heartily. I hide my smile, rubbing my cheeks against the sleeves of my jacket. Damn. I’ve missed hearing her laugh so much.

"You haven’t thought about it, have you?"

"Not really, no," I admit with flushed cheeks. "I guess I’ll try to negotiate a spot with the Leah and Alessia, and if they can’t put me up, I’ll get a hotel room."

"A hotel?" she scoffs. "Don’t be silly. If you really have nowhere to stay, let me know, okay?"

"Oh no, don’t worry. I’ll manage."

"I’m serious. I’m not going to let you stay on the streets. Knowing you, you’d get lost."

"Ha ha ha, very funny!" I laugh sarcastically.

"It’s true," she giggles. "By the way, where are you? I can hear cars passing by."

"In the street, outside," I say with a smile, knowing how she’ll react.

"Excuse me?"

I can picture her frowning with a stern look on her face. Why am I still smiling like an idiot? Lucy must have this effect on me.

"I’m in the street, outside a bar," I repeat.

My smile widens even more. She’s definitely going to scold me. I start an unconscious countdown in my head. I reach zero just as she raises her voice through the phone.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

"No."

"Oh, so let me get this straight. One bad moment, and you’re ready to get wasted? If that’s your plan, you’d better head home!"

"Relax, I’m not alone. Mapi’s with me."

"And that’s supposed to make me feel better?" she grumbles. "She was with you last time too!"

I laugh, realizing she’s right. That night, she left me for her girlfriend, and she wasn’t in any better shape than I was. I don’t think Lucy noticed when she had her on the phone. If she had, she wouldn’t have trusted her to get me home. One thing I know is that I did the right thing by calling her. Without her, I would’ve ended the night with a brain in pieces.

"I’m with two other friends. I don’t intend to drink. If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting on the curb talking to you. I’d be inside drinking."

"Hmm," she says, skeptical. "You’d better text me every five minutes to update me on your sobriety once this call is over."

"If you want," I say with a smile. "Aren’t you going out tonight?"

"No. I have to get up early, so I’m enjoying a quiet evening in my apartment."

"Oh, I’m bothering you then."

"Don’t be ridiculous. I’m happy to talk to you."

"Oh really...? Me too," I admit. "I never thought I’d miss your bossy attitude this much. I keep thinking about what you’d say when I’m in an awkward situation," I chuckle.

"It’s been a while since you’ve called me that. I hope you’re at least listening to that little voice if you’re hearing it."

I hold back a laugh. If she knew all the trouble Mapi has gotten me into... I’d end up doing more than just laps.

"Come on, you have to tell me all the nonsense you’ve been up to now."

I finally laugh softly. My long silence must have given me away.

"No, it’s better not to."

There’s a silver lining to the distance after all. She can’t reach me, let alone intimidate me with her eyes and gestures.

"I’m not kidding. If you come back as that little kid from the very beginning, you’re going to hear from me."

"Hey!" I exclaim, offended. "That girl is long gone."

"Hmm, she’d better be."

I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. I look up to see that it’s just Mapi. She’s leaning her head to the side with a small smile. I relax my muscles and timidly return her smile.

"Feeling better? You seemed really upset when you came out."

"Yeah... I’m feeling better," I reassure her without taking the phone from my ear.

"Who’s on the phone? Is it the person who managed to bring that smile back to your face?"

"Hmm," I shrug. "It’s Bronze."

I instantly regret being honest when I see a dreamy smile appear on her lips. I’ve just fueled her imagination. Those mental movies of hers won’t be going away anytime soon

- "Hey, I thought I told you not to use my name anymore," comments Lucy through my phone with a hint of playfulness.

- "I'll call you whatever I want!"

- "What does your boss want?" asks Mapi.

- "Nothing. How's your hand?" I ask, noticing an ice pack on her fist.

- "Hurts, but it was worth it," she giggles.

Both of them start talking at the same time, as if they're having a conversation with each other even though they can't hear each other. I don't know where to turn my head. I can't even decipher their words. I groan as I run my hand over my eyes.

- "For heaven's sake, shut up!" I groan.

I open my eyes again when the silence finally falls. I glance at my best friend, who is staring at me with wide eyes.

- "Thank you," I sigh. "How's your hand?" I finally ask Mapi, noticing the ice pack on her fist again.

- "Hurts, but it was worth it," she giggles.

- "Thanks again..."

- "It's normal," she smiles softly. "Well, I'm going home. Don't stay out too late."

I nod as I watch her go back inside. I groan, massaging my temples. I hope she won't be too upset with me for raising my voice.

- "You guys just gave me a headache."

- "At least now you know how it feels when you drive me crazy," Lucy giggles.

- "Are you kidding? I've never yelled in your ears, and I'm not that crazy!"

- "Oh yes, you were! At least, you used to be," she giggles. "You still have your moments, but now I find it adorable as long as you don't overdo it."

- "Oh, come on," I mumble, hiding my blush.

- "The worst was during exam revision when you wouldn't let anyone say anything to you."

- "Hey! Sometimes it was worth it, I was right!"

- "It only happened once!"

- "Once, but that question was on the exam! Believe me, I answered it correctly."

- "Well, good for you, if you can remember things like that."

- "Yeah."

- "Okay, I'm going to let you go; you must be expected. Enjoy your evening, but not too much."

- "Already?"

I have a hard time hiding my disappointment. I would have preferred to spend the evening talking to her. Am I crazy for wanting that?

- "Yes," she laughs. "Enjoy your time with your friends. We'll have plenty of time to talk when you get back. And don't forget to moderate, or even avoid alcohol, okay?"

- "I'm twenty, Luce. I can moderate myself."

- "Hmm, you never know.The past proved me wrong."

- "Not here. Do you have Snapchat?"

- "Snapchat? Why are you asking?"

- "If you give it to me, I could send you pictures of my drinks to make sure I'm not drinking."

- "Of course," she laughs. "Even if you send me a picture of a soda, who’s to say you haven't mixed it with vodka? I'd need to smell the drink instead, don't you think?"

- "As far as I know, there's no app that can do that yet."

- "You're silly," she giggles. "Okay, I'm letting you go. Don't forget I want texts. I wouldn't want you to do something stupid again."

- "I promise. Goodnight, Lucy."

- "Goodnight to you too, Ona. Don't stay out too late."

I put away my phone after we hang up. Now that I'm alone again, all my thoughts come flooding back. I sigh as I stand up. I pat my jeans to get rid of any dirt that might have clung to them. My butt is cold now from sitting on the ground. That wasn't very smart of me. I look at my phone, which is already vibrating. I smile when I see the handle, which I guess is her Snapchat: LBronze22. Wow, I can't believe it! I didn't expect to get it. My request was just a joke. I could know her whole life if she posts stories regularly. Then again, it's not impossible that she might block me too. I add her immediately on the app, then I head back inside. They're talking about the couples that formed among the people who were with us in high school. The room goes quiet when I sit down.

- "Don't stop on my account," I say.

- "How are you feeling?" Miller asks me.

- "Better. I just needed to step out."

I catch Mapi's smug smile, which I quickly avoid. She can smile all she wants because I do feel better thanks to Lucy. Thinking of her, I decide to kick off the fun by sending her a picture of my glass of soda. I caption it saying it's my one and only drink. I also take the initiative to write her a message, as she asked me to do regularly. I force myself to join the conversation to reassure my friends. I ask about some people I liked back then. The evening continues here for another good hour. I kept texting Lucy discreetly so as not to attract Mapi's attention. We decide to leave the bar around half past midnight. When I told Lucy, she seemed happy that I was being reasonable for once. Our last message exchange happens just as Miller drops us off at my place. We wished each other goodnight. I didn't want to bother her any longer, and besides, I planned to go to bed once I was in my room. I go to the bathroom first, then I join Mapi. Unlike the past few nights, it's Mapi's turn to hold me as we sleep. That's why I adore her. I don't need to talk or pretend with her. She knows me too well for that. Luckily for me, sleep caught up with me before I reached the point of insomnia.

[drewsbuzzcut]

All American Lace

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic (7.3k words! def the longest i have ever written)

warnings: angst, insecurities, jealousy, slight physical touch, pettiness, mentions passing out, and I think that’s all but let me know if I missed anything

SUNDAY

“I really don’t think it’s all that crazy,” Nick states, his arm thrown over Dallas’ waist as they lay in his bed.

“Just because it’s crazy, doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s very crazy if we get married. We’re only 19,” Dallas says through a sleepy voice. They’ve been talking about Nick’s proposal from a month ago. Dallas knows her answer, yes of course, but she still can’t get herself to go through with it. She’s too ridden with fear of their relationship failing because of an early marriage. She just needs a push, though. One push so she can say yes.

“So what? Nathan and Haley got married while they were still in high school. I know our relationship is strong enough to last through anything,” he brings out the big guns, referencing one tree hill, one of their favorite shows to binge together.

“That’s just a show, babe. It isn’t real life.”

“It can be real life for us,” he sighs, hand caressing her cheek as her hand rubs at his shoulder.

Screw it. She’s going to go with her gut and heart and finally answer his question. Maybe they can go browsing at thrift stores for vintage dresses. It is Sunday after all.

“Nick, I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

She kisses his lips, barely brushing against them.

“I will-“

“Nick! You have a visitor!” The couple hear the shout from behind the door.

Nick gives a confused look to Dallas before getting off the bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, walking out the door.

Dallas stays frozen, angered that her opportunity got ruined. She gets off the bed, throwing on one of his shirts that has his last name on the back, and follows her boyfriend. When she gets to the front door, she freezes, feeling a sense of discomfort washing over her. Her boyfriend was hugging another girl. Another girl who is absolutely beautiful. She has soft skin, long red hair, and the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. Her smile is beautiful and Dallas thinks she might be feeling jealous. Who is this girl and why is she hugging her boyfriend?

When Nick finally lets go of the unknown girl, he turns around and is quick to spot Dallas. His smile is wide, like a kid on Christmas.

“June, this is a close friend from home, Inez.”

So she has a name. Inez. It’s beautiful and rare to Dallas’ ears.

“Inez, this is Dallas my girl-“

“His fiancée,” Dallas interjects, reaching out her hand for Inez to shake.

“Fiancée? Wow, Nick, you never told me you were getting married. Congrats,” she cheers, although Dallas can hear the surprise in her voice.

Nick’s stuck on Dallas, silently freaking out that she just called herself his fiancée. He’s shocked by her words, not really understanding why she’d introduce herself with that title without even giving him an answer first. He shakes his conflicting thoughts out of his head, not wanting to open up that conversation at the moment.

“Yeah, my fiancée,” he pulls his girl into his arms.

“Well, Dallas, it’s really nice to meet you. I can’t say I’ve heard much about you though,” Dallas grits her teeth, her brain starting to create reasons as to why Nick never brought her up to his friend. She didn’t know that Nick hasn’t talked to Inez in months.

“I can say the same,” she decides to answer with.

“I guess that means we have to get to know each other. I hate to impose, but I really need to shower all the airport off of me. Do you mind, Nick?” Her voice is soft and sweet. Dallas finds it annoying.

“No, go ahead.”

Once she’s out of sight, Dallas turns to Nick with a questioning look.

“Okay, so who are we getting to babysit her while we go to the thrift stores?” Dallas asks, albeit a bit rudely, but she disguises it by leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“She’s not a child. I can’t go to thrift stores today. I need to stay here with Inez,” he says softly. He’s bothered, she can tell by the way he barely touches her.

“It’s Sunday, though. We always go to the thrift stores,” she points out.

“Well, I can’t go today,” Dallas doesn’t know it, but by Nick not going, or suggesting they take Inez, he’s protecting their sunday tradition. He does feel guilty for breaking it, though. They always go to the thrift stores on Sunday unless he has a hockey game or other team requirement.

“Are you serious?” She spits out, already wanting to burst into tears. He’s never put her second to another girl.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he kisses her forehead.

“It’s whatever. I’m going to head out, stick to my Sunday tradition,” she mutters, throwing a low blow at him. The tradition did start off as her own, so she’s letting him know that it’ll always be hers even after involving him.

He feels his heart pang in his chest at her comment.

Dallas trudges through his room, collecting her items and dressing in her clothes. She walks past him, not even saying bye, and makes her way to her car.

If she sped all the way to her favorite thrift store while blaring angry Taylor Swift, well no one had to know.

Dallas hates to admit it, but being at the thrift store doesn’t feel the same without Nick. She kicks herself for being so harsh. She knows she’s in the wrong, and probably being too jealous, but she couldn’t help it. How could he choose Inez over her? Over their sacred tradition.

Sweet, perfect Inez. Dallas rolls her eyes at the mere image of her. Stopping at one of the mirrors in between aisles, she stares at herself. She hates that she’s letting herself dig a hole that she knows she won’t be able to climb out of. She takes a deep breath in, slowly breathing out every insecurity and horrid thought of the girl that now plagued her mind. When she opens her eyes, she spots an old wedding dress. It’s the most beautiful dress she’s ever seen. It has a bunch of lace and it was made in America. It’s also vintage and in perfect condition. A rare find. Dallas immediately puts it in her cart, feeling giddy at the thought of her wearing it when she marries Nick.

About an hour later, Dallas decided to head to checkout, purchasing the dress, a white button up for Nick, and a fancy watch for him as well.

Once back at her own place, in her room she finds an old box that’s ready to be filled with anything that has to do with their wedding. She feels a little crazy thinking about it, but she knows that she wants to marry Nick. She knows that she doesn’t want to wait.

MONDAY

Dallas opens her door to find Nick who immediately pulls her into a bone crushing hug. He noses at her hair, inhaling her addicting scent and kisses her lips a few times.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, Nicky.”

“I hope it’s okay that I brought Inez with me,” and just like that Dallas is back to feeling unwell.

She sucks it up, welcoming the girl into her home. She hopes that her smile didn’t falter enough to show just how much she didn’t like the idea.

“You decorate so nicely,” Inez compliments as she makes herself comfortable on the couch, opposite of Dallas who’s in Nick’s arms.

“Oh, thank you. A lot of it has to do with my roommate and best friend, Sienna. She’s going to be an interior designer,” Dallas says, trying to put on a friendly smile.

“That’s cool!”

“So, how long have you and Nick been friends?” Dallas asks, intertwining her fingers with Nicks.

“Since 5th grade! We have gone through a lot together. Nick has always been the one I do everything with,” Inez says with a sadness to her tone. Her smile isn’t as bright, but it’s still genuine.

“Wow, the 5th grade? That’s a long time. You must know each other very well,” Dallas concludes.

“We do! When I saw the instagram post of your Halloween costumes, I was very surprised. Nick has never really cared for Halloween and doing the whole couples costume thing. As well as when Nick told me he proposed on Valentine’s Day; I was in shock. I’ve never known Nick to like that holiday or be so romantic,” as Inez says all this, Dallas can feel her heart sink into her stomach.

Every word being spoken to her starts to fade out and she feels like the guy sitting next to her isn’t who she thought. To everyone it may have been him lying about those two holidays- that most people don’t even consider holidays, but a lot of pivotal memories happened during those events. Without even realizing it, Dallas stoically pulls her hand from where it was cradled in Nicks. Eerily feeling like a stranger in her own home.

Inez and Nick only spend a couple more hours with the girl, talking and laughing while everything continues to be reevaluated in Dallas’ mind. She tries to smile and converse with them, but she just feels so out of place.

It’s not until they leave that she feels like she can breathe. She has time to go through everything and think about how he technically lied to her. Why wouldn’t he tell her that he didn’t care for Halloween? She wouldn’t have made him dress up with her.

She moves throughout the day, but everything seems to pass her by. Even when Nick comes by later that night to bring her food, she’s not even present.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Nick cups her cheek, trying to get her to connect eyes with him.

Dallas feels her tears trailing down her cheeks, although she isn’t aware that she’s actually crying until Nick frowns in worry.

“She’s your best friend,” speaking those words is almost impossible. It feels like burning bile in her throat, because she’s supposed to be his best friend, but how could she when felt like she didn’t even really know him.

“What’re you talking about?” His voice is soft and low. He continues to wipe away her tears as they fall.

“Inez, she’s your best friend,” she whispers.

“What? No, no, she’s just my friend. You’re my best friend,” he corrects her, his head shaking furiously.

“No! She’s your best friend and I’m not. I didn’t even know that you don’t care for Halloween or Valentine’s. I feel like I don’t really know your true self. What else do you not like? What else do I not know about you?” Dallas rips herself from his hands, moving to her bedroom so Sienna wouldn’t have to hear them.

“We’re always learning new things about each other, so there’s a lot we still don’t know, but that’s what the rest of our lives are for. As for Halloween and Valentine’s, I never felt like I had to tell you. You love Halloween, so I wanted to dress up with you. You actually made me love it because it was so much fun. You love Valentine’s Day, so I wanted it to be as special as possible,” he explains, trying to hold her but she continues to pull away.

“That’s not the point though! You could’ve told me, because I want to know every little thing about you. I just feel like I don’t know you as well as I thought. It’s a bit off putting,” she says.

“Well, now you do know,” Nick tries to make light of the conversation, but it just makes her upset.

She wants an apology. She’s not sure if this whole thing warrants one, but it’d be nice to know that she isn’t overreacting and is understood.

“Can you please leave?” She shuts her eyes, not willing to let more tears fall.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Nick. I need you to leave. You obviously don’t understand why I’m upset, so just leave,” she blurts out.

“Fine. I love you, June,” he kisses her forehead. Nick pauses at the door, waiting for her to tell him to stay, but those words never come.

TUESDAY

Dallas throws herself into all her schoolwork as a much needed distraction. When she’s not doing schoolwork, she’s working on dismantling and reassembling the wedding dress she bought from the thrift. She may be upset with Nick, but she is still getting married to him.

She uses one of the scrap pieces of lace from the dress to be part of Nick’s white button up. She dyed the fabric black, cut out her initials and stitched it into the cuff of the sleeve. For her dress, she only saved certain parts of it. She saved the bodice, part of the skirt, and all of the lace. She decided to add thin straps and rework the lace into a veil. She wants a very simple, light wedding dress.

In the process of distracting herself from her little spat with Nick, she goes to a jeweler to get Nick’s watch she bought engraved. “You are my forever,” sits delicately in cursive on the back of it.

There may be a little retail therapy included in her small trip, but that’s only between her and her credit card.

After having a quiet dinner and mini fashion show with her best friend, she decides that it’s not worth being mad at Nick. She has to get over it and move on, because at the end of the day she loves him.

She smiles when she nears his room, his voice filling her ears.

“Yeah, I don't know what was going on last night. I guess she’s just being insecure because you’re here,” Dallas hears Nick say to who she’s assuming is Inez.

She can physically feel her blood start to boil, her heart thumping and mind racing. Before thinking about it, she throws his door open. Nick turns to see her, his face going pale at the realization that she heard his words. The three stare at each other, waiting for someone to break. It’s Dallas.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, turning around.

“June, wait!” Nick runs after her.

“Why, so I can hear you tell your best friend how your girlfriend is so insecure? No thank you,” she spits.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? You acted crazy for me not telling you about Halloween. You said how she’s my best friend! You called yourself my fiancée when you never even answered my proposal in the first place. Which by the way, makes me feel like you don’t even love me, so yeah sorry for thinking you were insecure,” he blurts out.

Dallas feels her tears spill, her body shaking with nerves. Is this really happening right now? It really hurt to be accused of being jealous just because she accepted his proposal. She’s also being accused of not loving him. She really was going to say yes before Inez even showed up. It’s not her fault they got sidetracked by the red head.

“How dare you say that I only want to marry you because of her! How dare you say that I don’t love you. And you know what, she is your best friend, because you’re here gossiping to her about me. I can’t believe you told her that instead of making sure I was reassured. I guess it’s only okay when I reassure you whenever you get jealous. I don’t even give you a reason to feel jealous,” she rants.

As she goes to walk out his door, he tries to stop her once more.

“June, please don’t leave. Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told her that. I’m sorry for not being nicer about it, or talking to you about it. You’re the only one who matters,” he apologized.

“Don’t call me that anymore. You’re not my boyfriend and you’re not my fiancé,” she whispers, too scared to look up at his face.

“What? C’mon, please. We can talk about this. We can fix this. I can fix this, just tell me what to do. I’m sorry. I messed up, I know that, but we can’t break up. We’re getting married,” she clenched her eyes shut, not daring to see his tears. She knows he’s about to cry by the way his voice continues to crack.

Her back is to him, so he comes up behind her to pull her body into his. If it weren’t for the arm wrapped around her waist, she would’ve crumbled into the floor. She can feel his tears hitting the material of her sweater. It makes her heart break that much more. She hates that she’s hurting him, but his words hurt her. The way he openly talks to Inez about her as if she’s anybody but his fiancée. If roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way she’s feeling.

“No because apparently I don’t love you,” she throws his words back at him, having to pull away from him as his shoulders start to shake.

“Please. Please, I know you love me. I was being an asshole and I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” he pleads.

“I need to leave,” she says, walking away.

She feels like a robot on the walk back to her place. The cold bites at her skin, but it’s nothing compared to the way her heart aches and her stomach twists. She finds herself at Luca’s place, immediately sobbing against him when he pulls her into a hug. That night she watches the moon, silent tears falling as she tries to banish every thought she has of Nick. She can’t go home, not when there are traces of the hockey player in every single corner. His cologne and shampoo are embedded in her pillows. His clothes fill up a section of her closet. There are notes and pictures of them littered on her dresser and night stand. Ignoring him seems impossible.

WEDNESDAY

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Focus on classes, go to a Pilates class, and then start working on some designs for her future clothing line.

That’s Dallas’ plan. A solid plan that will stop her from drowning in her tears and guilt. It will also distract her from the multitude of phone calls from her brother and Kent. If only she knew that last night Nick called Blanks in shameful tears to tell him what happened.

Soft purring breaks the girl’s attention of planning out her day. She feels sir’s soft fur as he rubs against her leg.

“Hi, sir moldy. Hi cutie, mommy loves you,” she coos, caressing her black cat who isn’t so small anymore.

Her soft smile starts to disappear as she thinks about her cat not seeing his favorite person, Nick. The ache in her heart makes itself known again.

Snap out of it.

Dallas vows to stay out of her dorm the entire day until her eyes are practically shutting with sleep. Dressing in a cute outfit and putting on her favorite lipstick, she’s out of her door before she can second guess her plan. Who says you can’t be cute and heartbroken at the same time?

Her two morning classes go by without a hitch, the girl finishing any remaining assignments for the week within an hour after they finish. Her work ethic when she’s trying to distract herself is insane.

After a small lunch, Dallas finds the nearest restroom to change into her workout clothes, but when she walks out she sees Nick in the direction she needs to go. Everything around her seems to freeze except for him. His movements are sluggish and his eyes are tired. She turns the other way just as they make eye contact. For a second she thinks she sees him try to get her attention, but she doesn’t stay around to find out.

Dallas makes sure to take a heated Pilates class instead, needing to sweat out every issue that’s clogging her brain. It works but only for a couple hours. Eventually the sweat dries and now her problems feel tacky on her skin. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, though she desperately needed a shower. If she were to go back, she’d just get sidetracked by all the things her ex has taken over in her room.

She drives out to a lookout spot, putting her car in park so she can draw up new prospects for her clothing line. It’s a bittersweet moment. A lot of her inspiration would spark when she was with Nick. She has to remind herself that her clothing line has always been something she wants. It’s something that she has to be one hundred percent sure about. There’s no time for her to be hurt and in return be neglectful to something she’s worked so hard for.

She has to remember to be grateful for the things that are still in her life.

It’s almost midnight when she returns to her apartment, finding Sienna cuddled up with Sir on the couch.

“Nick tried to see you like a few hours ago. He told me to tell you that he wants to talk,” Sienna says, not even in her apartment for a minute and Dallas already wants to leave again.

“Of course he wants to talk. He can fuck off for all I care. I made up my mind and he needs to deal with it. He can go talk to Inez,” the girl says with an agitated edge to her tone.

“Look, D, you know I love you, but maybe you should talk to him. I know he fucked up majorly, but you should still talk to him,” she brings her into a hug.

“Why, so he can relate it all back to Inez like the best friend she is? So he can try to convince me that she’s not his best friend? I don’t need to hear it,” she spits, removing herself from Sienna’s arms. She heads to her room to shower off the day and sleep for as long as she possibly can.

THURSDAY

“Have you told her about it?” Inez asks Nick in the quiet of the library corner they’re in.

“No. Not yet anyway. I am soon because I know she’s going to be upset if I wait any longer- even if we’re broken up. Hopefully the breakup won’t last too long, though,” he responds, eyes cast down on the paper he’s been procrastinating about.

“She’s not going to be happy. Maybe you shouldn’t tell her. If she finds out we took each other’s virginities, she’s going to be so much more mad,” Inez says, reaching out her hand to rest over Nick’s. It’s meant to be comforting. Nick still pulls his hand away, though.

“Yeah, just let me lie to my fiancée again about something much worse than commercial holidays. No, I need to tell her,” he snaps.

“I’m just trying to protect you. She’s not your anything anymore anyways,” Inez sneered.

“Well don’t,” Nick feels that Inez is partially to blame for his whole breakup. It’s not fair and to some extent, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to blame himself.

“How’re you going to make up for the whole insecurity thing?”

“I don’t know. Grovel, probably or explain why I said it.”

“Maybe you’re just not meant to be. I mean this is kind of crazy to get upset about, especially when she claims she’s your fiancée,” Inez reasons.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” The conversation ends there.

The entire day, Nick is constantly looking for Dallas. Outside the rooms he knows her classes take place, at her favorite on campus cafe, and around her favorite spot she likes to chill and write at. No matter how busy it is, it still feels like a ghost town with her absence clearly present.

Dallas watches Nick as he looks around. It seems as if he’s lost, but she knows that he’s looking for her.

She saw him at the library with Inez. She watched the way Inez was talking with her expressive hand gestures and the way Nick's face grew red. Dallas doesn’t know that it was out of annoyance and not in happiness.

To Dallas, they looked so comfortable as if they’re the ones who've been dating for months. Inez’ smile was easy to compare to the breathtaking sight of the sun after a few gloomy days. Her cheeks were coated in a perfectly shade-matched blush. Her plump lips were the perfect shade of pink. She had the prettiest ribbon tied in her red hair, and she just knew her perfume was heavenly. Dallas so badly wished she was the one talking to Nick, covering his hand with her own.

She’s never been someone to be jealous as she’s so confident in herself. Now, she finds herself wishing to be Inez, but hating that she’s has got to the point of where she doesn’t want to be her own person anymore. She also hates the way she never gave Inez a chance, the way she never let herself like her because she’s so likable. Maybe her and Nick would still be together if she didn’t immediately feel jealous of Inez. Dallas feels like she’s going to go insane with the way she keeps bottling up her every emotion towards the girl and her ex boyfriend or fiancé. Nevertheless, she keeps walking with her head held high, well as high as she can get it without her eyes blurring with tears. That elegance and grace she’s learned through ballet comes in handy at this very moment as she remains in a balance of sanity.

She’s so close to entering her apartment building when Nick catches her.

“Dallas!” Her body freezes, literally not being able to move her feet, but she can feel her heart rate speed up.

“Dallas, please let me talk to you,” Nick whispers once he’s close enough to the girl.

“What do you want?” She turns to face him, avoiding his eyes.

“I need to tell you something and after that I will have no more lies or things I’m keeping from you,” he says, but Dallas stays quiet, afraid her words will come out as shouts.

“Inez and I lost our virginities to each other in high school,” he blurts out, waiting in tense silence for Dallas’ reaction.

Dallas feels her heart being crushed between his two fingers. She thinks there’s a big possibility of her passing out on the cold ground. At least that impact won’t hurt as much as this. She finally snaps her head up, looking at him with a glare.

“Look, I never meant to hide it from you. I just knew that if you found out after all that’s happened, you’d freak-“ he’s cut off by a sharp slap to his cheek.

Dallas feels her palm grow warm and start to sting. Her eyes are wide, shocked that she just laid a hand on him. She watches the way Nick’s eyes start to tear up. He knows that this is it. She opens and closes her mouth, not sure what to say or if she should apologize for hitting him. She decides to slowly back away, not able to get herself to turn away from him. She watches his distraught figure as she backs away, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Her body moves on autopilot, reality finally crashing over her when she enters her apartment. Sienna watches with fearful eyes, not having ever seen her best friend in a state like this. Dallas looks at Sienna, her tears still falling. Again, words fail to come out of her mouth as she opens and closes it. Then, it’s like all the shock dissipates and anger takes over. Her eyes are going dark and her features are hardening. She marches to her room, ripping open her closet door. She starts yanking hangers away from each other, throwing out each piece of Nick’s clothing.

All the withheld anger and sadness came bubbling out of the girl in the form of screams. She couldn’t stop it as she shoved every article of clothing that belonged to him in a box. Did 19 year olds act like this? Well, they do now. Poor Sir got so scared he ran to the living room as his mom cleaned every spot that’s been stained by her ex boyfriend. Her movements come to a halt when her eyes land on her wedding box. The tears crash on her with so much weight she falls to her knees, sobs wracking her body. Sienna’s quick to rush to Dallas, immediately hugging her.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let it all out,” she murmured.

“He lost his virginity to her,” she whispers.

Sienna’s eyes widen as she hugs Dallas tighter.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“Am I crazy for being upset? I feel like it shouldn’t be a big deal, but I’m just- I’m so hurt,” Dallas says through sobs and hiccups.

“You have every right to feel the way you do. I’m here for you for whatever you need,” Sienna attempts to soothe her.

“I just- I need to go to my room and calm down.”

“Okay.”

Dallas lugs her heavy body to her room, showers and then neatly packs everything that belongs to Nick in a box. She debates on whether or not she should give him the wedding box, too. Part of her still believed that she should continue to hold onto it because maybe things will get better. Then, she thinks about the new piece of information he just blurted out and she wants to die all over again. She feels that familiar burn of tears in her eyes, so she does the one thing she loves to do when her brain is too loud, write.

Instead of writing in her journal, she decides to write on a single piece of paper. Instead of writing how she feels, she writes a letter that’s a semblance of a goodbye. It’s everything the next girl needs to know or love about Nick, written from someone who loved him probably too much.

THE LETTER

To whoever gets to love Nick next,

He will pretend to like something you love just to make you happy. Don’t get mad at him for hiding the fact that he doesn’t like it. Just love him for wanting you to be happy.

Nick loves hockey, so you have to love him as a hockey player. No matter all the insane expectations that come with it, or how he’ll drive himself up a wall just to be great at something he loves.

Nick is such a goofy person- even when it’s time to be serious. I think it’s because he loves to see the people around him smile, so don’t get annoyed by his untimely silliness.

If you ever get the opportunity to be given a gift from Nick, prepare yourself. He’s one of the best gift givers I have ever met. It just goes to show how easy it is for him to remember everything about someone he loves.

Cherish the vulnerable moments. Don’t take his feelings for granted; they’re a big piece of him and that type of information is hard for anyone to confess to someone they’re scared to be hurt by.

I love you Nick, and in another universe, in another lifetime, our love will have been enough.

Dallas folds up the letter and places it on top of everything in the box. She picks it up, every memory and emotion weighing heavily in her arms. She trudges back to the living room, ignoring Sienna’s worried gaze as she sets the box down by the front door.

“If Nick happens to come by, or any of the hockey boys, give it to them. Thank you,” she mutters, walking back to her room.

FRIDAY

“Dallas, c’mon! I know you’re home, your car is parked outside. Please, please let me in. We need to talk and I want to see our cat,” Nick shouts from outside her door.

When Dallas first heard the knocks, she was doused in sleep. Then she heard his voice, and she was suddenly wide awake.

“No, you’re not coming in to see MY cat. I don’t want to talk to you, so leave,” Dallas cracks the door open just a bit, so she knows that he hears her.

“Dallas, please. Please let me fix this,” he pleads.

“No!”

“Nick, you need to leave. Here’s a box with all your things,” Sienna intervened, handing the box over to him while Dallas sat on the couch.

Nick’s face falls, his eyes getting watery and he searches his mind for words to say. Sienna closes the door before he gets the chance to speak up.

“Are you okay?” She asks Dallas.

Dallas furiously shakes her head. “I can’t be here. I need to go.”

“Okay where are you going?” Sienna follows Dallas to her room, watching her as she packs an overnight bag.

“Buffalo.”

“Buffalo? That’s a bit of a drive. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes. I don’t want to go to Ohio, and I can’t stay here. I’ll be back before Monday. Thank you for being here for me. It means a lot. I love you,” Dallas says, hugging Sienna.

“Of course. I love you, too.”

Dallas rushes to her car, but she’s still seen.

“D!” Dallas halts her steps when she hears Rutger’s voice.

“Hey, Rut.”

“Where are you going?” He asks, spotting her bag.

“Somewhere for some peace and quiet,” she says.

“How are you feeling? I know everything has been kinda shitty lately.”

“I’m holding it together as best as I can. I’m really hurt and I just need to get away from here for a day or two,” she explains, her exterior softening at Rutger’s sincerity.

“I’m sorry about everything. If you need anything, Luca and I are here for you.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, but you know I can’t. Umm… anyways I have to get going. Thanks for asking about how I was doing. I’ll see you around,” she moves to turn away, but he just pulls her into a short hug.

“No matter what happens, please don’t stop being our friend,” he whispers.

She nods her head, separating herself from the boy before the remainder of her heart shatters. She gets into her car and sets off for Buffalo.

The long drive was cathartic as she belted out lyrics to Taylor Swift- even through all her tears. She also got a ton of fresh air that she desperately needed.

It’s dark when she makes it to where she was going. The person she was trying to see wasn’t even home, so she spent a couple hours outside their front door. Dallas is sure she got a ton of concerned- even judging looks as she accidentally fell asleep with tears dried on her cheeks.

“Dallas?”

The girl startles out of her nap, immediately jumping up when she sees Owen. Owen Power, one of her favorite people. She collapses into his arms, her tears falling once again.

“What happened? Are you okay? Does anyone know you’re here?” He holds her tight.

“Blanks knows I’m here. I broke up with my boyfriend and I just needed to leave because I see and feel him everywhere,” she explains, the shattered pieces of her heart piercing through her skin.

“Let’s get you inside. You probably need some sleep especially after the long drive.”

After some much needed food and a shower, Dallas finally explains everything to Owen. He’s less than impressed, but he’s really good at comforting her.

“I don’t know. I just feel like this whole week I’ve been acting like some crazy girlfriend. Do you think I’m crazy for feeling and acting this way?”

“No, you’re valid. Except for the whole Halloween and Valentine’s thing, that’s not too big of a deal. He was just trying to make you happy. Now, him telling that girl you’re insecure and saying that you don’t love him was out of line. I’m sorry that you went through that, but I am glad I get to see you,” he tells her, bringing her in for another hug.

“Thank you for understanding. I’m happy to see you, too. Now, I need at least 12 hours of sleep, so goodnight. Will you be here tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. I’ll make you breakfast.”

As Dallas falls asleep that night, Nick is beating himself up as he reads Dallas’ letter. The once neat paper is littered with tear drops.

SATURDAY

Nick is breaking many traffic laws just to get to Buffalo. It took Rutger telling him that she was leaving and a million apologies to Blanks to find out where she was. He was ready to lay his heart on the line, or in her palms.

Nick doesn’t know she’s staying with Owen, he just knows where she is. When he knocks on the door, he’s surprised to see a very tall man with long hair.

“Nick.” Owen knows him from Dallas’ instagram.

Nick recognizes the other hockey player, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending otherwise.

“Um, who are you?” Nick puffs out his chest, trying to disguise his true reaction. Owen is very large and intimidating as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Owen Power, a good friend of Dallas.” Owen looks down on Nick, a testing expression painting his features.

“Is Dallas here? Can I talk to her?”

“I don’t know. Can you, or will you just go talk to Inez?” Nick looks taken aback at his remark.

So much for a great first impression.

“What are you doing here?” Dallas asks, moving Owen out of the way.

“I need to talk to you. Please, Dallas you have to let me explain everything,” he begs.

Dallas groans, her hands going through her hair as she moves aside for him to enter.

“What could you possibly say to me?”

“I know you’re upset that I just told you about how I lost my virginity to Inez, but it didn’t mean anything and she doesn’t mean anything to me,” he swears.

“You made me seem like I was crazy for feeling insecure! You had sex with her and I know that was long ago, but you’re with me, but still had her come visit you,” she responds.

“I didn’t know she was coming! Do you think if I knew, I would let it happen, or at least not tell you about our past?” He questions.

“You still let her stay! That’s the difference. If she didn’t mean a thing to you, why did you let her stay? If I had lost my virginity to Owen and had you meet him because he’s my close friend, you would go ballistic. If roles were reversed, you’d be just as jealous and just as upset!” She shouts.

“Speaking of Owen, why would you tell him our business? Sure seems like he’s your best friend when you said I was yours” Nick scoffs, jealousy creeping up on him.

“No! No, you can’t get jealous not right now. See! This is what I mean! You can get jealous all you want, but the moment I do, it’s wrong. Screw your double standards!”

“I was the one who was insecure. I have been asking you to marry me for weeks and you still wouldn’t give me an answer. Next thing I know, you’re introducing yourself as my fiancée. I felt like the prospect of our marriage wasn’t important to you, like you were just playing with my feelings to see how far you could go before I blew up. I fucked up so badly because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me at all. If you had eventually said no, our relationship would be ruined. I’m sorry, Dallas. I’m sorry for making it seem like she’s my best friend. I’m sorry for keeping things from you, and saying that you don’t love me. I’m sorry for everything and I just needed to tell you that,” he says, watching as she cries.

“Here’s your ring, I forgot to put it in the box,” she says, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He immediately shakes his head, knowing that if he takes back the ring everything will really be over.

“I can’t take that back. It’s yours. It belongs to you,” he tries to say it with conviction, but his voice cracks and his tears start to fall.

“I can’t have it either,” she pulls the ring off, forcing it into his hands.

His shoulders are shaking and his lip wobbles. Nick wants to hold her in his arms, but he knows she’ll push him away.

Dallas wants to reach out to him as he walks away, but she fears it’s too late to take back everything she’s said and done.

“Nick?” She calls his name and watches the way he turns around within that second.

“Yeah?” His voice is unsure. He watches the looks she gives him. Her eyes are filled with want. She wants that connection.

He quickly walks back to her, pulling her into his arms.

“Why can’t you fight for me?” She questions, hurt laced in her voice. Her hands connect around his neck and he can feel her chest heave.

“I have been fighting. Not hard enough, but because you won’t let me fight for you,” he answers, hands rubbing her back.

“Fight for me, please,” she begs, her way of saying she’ll listen to what he has to say.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hadn’t talked to Inez since before I graduated high school, so her coming to visit was just as much a surprise to me as it was to you. I’m sorry for being an asshole and telling Inez that you were insecure. That wasn’t my place and that wasn’t her business. I should’ve made sure that you were secure in our relationship, because that’s my job as your boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” Dallas corrects him.

“Yes, your fiancé. I know you love me with all your heart, sorry for ever doubting that. Inez is not my best friend and she’s not even really a friend. Not anymore. I told her she couldn’t be in my life, because if she stayed, I knew you wouldn’t and I once told you that I can’t live without you. That stands true. I want you even if that means giving up everything else. I’m sorry, June. I’m so sorry for being so careless with us,” he apologizes, his tears falling into her hair.

“I accept your apology. I’m sorry for being so emotional,” she says against the skin of his cheek as she softly kisses his face.

“You have every right to feel angry, sad, or hurt. I was truly an asshole,” he states.

“I’m so sorry for slapping you, Nick. I hate myself for putting my hands on you like that. I swear I will never do that again,” she sobs into his chest, that guilt finally breaking her down.

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. I saw how much that hurt you, emotionally,” she whispers.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you, always.”

Dallas pulls away, taking in the boy she loves so much. His hair is messy and his face is red from his tears.

“June bug, I want you in my life forever. I don’t care how young we are, or what people think, because I know that our love is enough in this lifetime and the next one. We will always find our way to each other. Will you please marry me?” He pulls out the ring from his pocket and kneels on one knee.

“Yes! Yes in this lifetime and yes in the next. I love you, Nick,” she answers, jumping into his arms and kissing his lips for the first time in what felt like forever.

a/n: I absolutely loved writing this and I hope y’all enjoy it! The title is a little combination of “All American Bitch” and “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo as I feel those two songs resemble what Dallas was going through. It also references the lace of the dress Dallas thrifted, beautiful but also delicate.

[tboybuck]

have a little father's day blurb about complicated father-son relationships. 1k. cross posted to ao3

steve's relationship with his parents has been complicated at best his entire life but it's only after he and eddie have an apartment together in chicago that his perception of of the father-son relationship shifts.

for the past decade or so, he's watched eddie's relationship with wayne and ached a little bit. because that's the kind of father-son relationship he wishes he could have had with his dad.

it wasn't always great, especially after his dad realized steve could mostly fend for himself and started leaving him alone more and more often for longer stretches of time. but it wasn't all bad either. his dad used to take him to ball games and he taught him how to ride a bike without the training wheels. he taught him how to change the oil in his beamer and how to bullshit his way through a book report.

mostly, though, he taught steve how to be lonely.

over the past couple of years, steve has slowly been trying to repair that stilted relationship with his old man. the guy isn't going to be around forever, and if nothing else he owes it to steve to leave him with some good memories after he's gone.

father's day has always been a bit of a weird day for steve, because his dad has always kept his feelings close to the vest, so steve's never had any idea how to navigate the day around him.

he thinks about the year he was thirteen; they'd gone to a cubs game together at wrigley and his dad let him have a cup of beer with his hotdog. he thinks of the year he was sixteen, before hawkins turned itself upside down; his dad was out of town at the condo in indy for some work conference the following week and he'd sighed when steve called him to wish him well, thinking there'd been something wrong at home.

this year is going to be different, steve tells himself.

he and eddie have invited both his dad and wayne to their apartment in chicago for dinner, and his dad is going to be here. steve's already bought a card for his dad, and his mom sent him her lasagna recipe, and he splurged for a good bottle of red wine.

hopefully this year will begin to repair the distance between steve and his dad.

steve finds himself hovering over the coffee maker at the kitchen counter, staring off into space while it brews, and eddie startles him a little when he comes up behind him to wrap an arm around his waist and kiss his cheek.

'you good?'

"yeah. little nervous.'

'it'll be fine. i made him laugh at christmas last year. remember?'

steve does remember. it was a good christmas.

it took steve's parents some time to accept steve and eddie as steve and eddie, but it's been so long now that it's not something that the harringtons can just ignore. if they want to be a part of their son's life, they need to get used to eddie. and this past christmas felt like a win - the harringtons had gifted them concert tickets and a fancy toaster oven for their apartment.

that night, after the sunday chores have been done and the laundry has been folded and put away, richard and wayne show up within moments of each other. steve and eddie's beagle mix, ozzy, greets them at the door, his tail thumping against the floor as he resists jumping up to beg their visitors for pets.

dinner goes really well; richard doesn't say anything offensive about their little apartment and eddie doesn't goad him into a discussion about politics. together, the four of them reminisce about steve and eddie's childhoods around the table, their plates overflowing with noodles and red sauce. wayne tells them stories about eddie that steve's never heard before, and richard tells stories that steve had completely forgotten about.

it's giving steve hope, this father's day dinner with his dad and his boyfriend and his boyfriend's uncle-dad.

until steve and richard are at the sink washing up the dinner dishes together, and everything crashes down around them.

'you're still young,' richard says. 'there's still time.'

'for what?'

'for you to come to your senses.'

'dad...'

'no, i mean it. there's always a job waiting for you at my firm. plenty of pretty girls in administrative roles there, too.'

'dad...' steve says again.

'i'm just saying, steven. it's time to stop playing house like this and settle down.'

'i am settled. we have a good life here. i love my job at the school. i love my life. i love eddie.'

'don't you want kids of your own? he can't give you that.'

steve scoffs.

'why would i want kids of my own? i didn't exactly have the best parental role models growing up. i'd fuck a kid up, just like you and mom fucked me up. besides, i have my students. that's plenty for me.'

'we gave you everything, steven.'

'everything except your presence. i needed you guys, especially as a teenager. and you guys just... didn't give a shit. why would i want to keep that cycle going?'

the silence in the kitchen is so loud.

'it's late. you should get going. eddie's got work in the morning.'

richard sighs.

'the offer stands. the firm is always there when you're ready.'

'just go. happy father's day.'

it comes out bitter. snappy. steve doesn't apologize.

richard goes. steve stays in the kitchen and tries not to think about it. he pops open a second bottle of wine - cheap, sweet, white, the kind of wine his father would mock him for drinking if he gave him half a chance.

he feels stupid for thinking his father could change, for thinking it could ever be different. people his dad's age are so stuck in their ways that there's no getting through to them. it's not easy but it's reality.

after wayne leaves, eddie comes into the kitchen to join steve and pour himself a glass of that cheap riesling steve's been working his way through. he doesn't say anything because he doesn't have to. ozzy curls up at steve's feet and the three of them sit together in a comfortable silence. eddie holds steve's hand atop the table.

at least steve isn't lonely anymore.

[goldengalore]

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[nonsensical-raw-material]

Only goyim seem to try to invalidate my Jewishness.

And it's like they think they're doing me a favor. Like "sure you say you're one of THEM but don't worry we can tell"

I live in a semi-rural part of the south. With my synagogue being well into an hour away and having to cross state lines. There is not a Jewish community in the town I live. Wearing my Magen David I've heard people whispering wondering what an Israli is doing in rural America rather than guess Jewish people exist.

It's not hard to tell I'm a convert from the way I talk. My life is very interfaith because so are the people in it. My kind of adoptive family gifted me a gorgeous mezuzah necklace. And when I don't work Sundays sometimes I'll go to church with them to hear my bonus father figure preach. I still participate in my own family's christmas celebrations because to us it's always been secular. I may have a few more reservations about singing songs that speak of Jesus as divine. In the same direction one of best friends who is Christian and who's father preaches when I can't get to synagogue always makes sure I have someone to share the Purim story with. The same friend celebrated Chanukah with me and learned how to make Latkes.

And with all the issues that come with "looking Jewish" despite the fact there is no real way to look Jewish. My name isn't Jewish enough for goyim. Why is my hair blonde? Why isn't my nose bigger? Why are my eyes light? Why don't I fit the antisemitic character in their head? How can I be ethnically German and Jewish at the same time? Man oh man I must really be confused and hate myself.

"OH so you're just Jew....ISH"

Then when I explain how within our community we don't differentiate the convert. A Jew is a Jew is a Jew is a JEW. I explain the story of all our souls accepting Torah at Sinai. How I love my community and for once in my life I felt at home somewhere. And I get looked at like I'm crazy.

Maybe I'm lucky but I have yet to experience any type of differentiation within my community. I've been taken in lovingly and met with open arms. But it's always so crazy to me how I've never had my fellow Jew try to take away my Jewishness. If anything they constantly reaffirm it. I've never been mocked or ridiculed or less valued.

Goyim on the other hand will ask me questions on Torah. Especially Christians on the topic of mitzvot. Acting with superiority "Oh why would you follow that stupid law? We don't, don't you feel stupid choosing to miss out?" Its like an 'gotcha' moment but only for them.

I just wonder if you claim to love G-d why do you see tasks for them as hardship? I suppose it's a cultural difference. We see our laws as blessings and other see them as obligations. I don't live in a society where the religion and culture I've been adopted into is the default. There is an active decision made in being Jewish every single day of my life. But for them they get to be the default. No question goes into what they practice because that's just 'what you do'

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twelve

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: This part took way too long to write. Had a bit of writers block ngl, but I managed to get it done last night when I couldn't sleep. Be prepared for a load of fluff but also some surprises. It's a good chapter, I enjoyed writing it once I finally got into it! But I'm also sorry for long wait! Hopefully the next will be along soon.

> Just a reminder! We left off on the red carpet with Mouse and Matty:) You can look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 22m ago GFC Charity Event! The gals are currently live and interviewing The 1975! So far we’ve had Jamie Bell, Peter Capaldi, Dylan and Jordan Banjo! 2TIME @/user1 WHAT was that? 102 @/user2  chemistrychemistrychemistry Ugh! @/user3 SHE COOKED FOR HIM?? Soloveme? @/user4 What’s going on at this event?? It’s all over my feed😭 MILK @/user5 Screaming this is honestly all so mental Parisin75 @/user6 Wait so they’re friends now? Or is something else happening?? > Too_shy @/user7 Last time I checked but he seemed so happy on the carpet, and he wouldn’t look into the lens at all. His eyes were always focused just above it, either on Adi or Mouse! >> Drumonmepls @/user8 Couldn’t have been Adi!! She was to the left of Ross on and off screen!

***

It was days after the event that things seemed to finally settle again. For Matty, at least. Me? I was still getting the odd DM and tweet here and there, but I couldn’t complain, not with how it had been at the very start. Hordes upon hordes of people had come to make their opinions known on the stance of Matty and I’s ‘sudden’ friendship; fans had taken to both Twitter and Instagram, they’d called into the show, and a few had even turned up outside of the studio.

Matty had been helpful throughout it all though, mainly just finding ways to take my mind off of it and sending security down to the building just to ‘be on the safe side’. It’d been a nice gesture, sweet even. But had also meant that his management team had cracked down on him and the band, cooping the lot of them up in a recording studio and pressing them to finish up the album they were currently working on.

That in itself hadn’t affected me much, the whole Matty being distracted by work thing, because it had happened around about the same time that prep work for the Christmas period had kicked in. Which was basically a time where Adi and I focused on pre recording a few shows so that we could sail smoothly into the new year.

This year it had been hectic, to say the very least, but Finn had been a Godsend. Offering to pick up Teddy from nursery on the days when we were filming late and even keeping him occupied on the one weekend that we’d lost the previous day's audio- which had been a fucking nightmare.

Today though, was finally a day where I got some time to myself. Well, myself and Teddy, seeing as I’d completely and utterly missed him even with only having been gone a few extra hours in the day than usual. Still, the kid was my little ball of light and without him I’d be utterly lost.

“Alright there, Teds, what’re you drawing?”

It was a Sunday, the 17th to be precise, and so we only had a week and a bit left in the lead up to Christmas. I’d spent the morning wrapping most of Teddy’s presents before he’d woken and demanded sustenance- which, fair enough. But he was always a little moody whenever he first woke up. Bit like me, I suppose. And so, whilst I’d started cooking him his breakfast, I’d settled him down at the table with some paper and pens to keep him distracted, an old album by The Cranberries playing.

“Plane.” The toddler retorted easily enough, tongue poking out one side of his mouth in utmost concentration.

Grinning at the small action, I settled a cup of juice before him and then stroked a hand through his unruly hair. “Is that for mémé then?”

Teddy hummed, nodding his head at the odd angle it was resting at. I chuckled, always enamoured by his every little thing.

“That’s brilliant, bubs! I’m sure she’ll love it.” I assured him softly, trailing my fingers through his hair one last time before withdrawing to finish up with cooking.

“How many days?” Teddy asked once I’d plated everything up and taken my seat beside him at the table, immediately I knew what he was on about- seeing as he’d only asked the same question a dozen times a day since the last time we’d phoned my mum.

I pretended to think about it long and hard. “Um… about this many days.” I said, holding up six fingers.

Teddy’s brow instantly furrowed as he set about leaning as close as he could get over the tabletop to point towards each of my fingers. “One, two, three…”

“Six!”

I beamed once he’d finally got it, clapping along with him. “So good, you clever boy! Six- six days til mémé gets here!”

Teddy repeated the words in a breathy murmur, grinning gummily back at me as he wiggled in his chair. Then it was just “six” over and over again for a short while.

I tittered faintly to myself, shaking my head before we went about the rest of our breakfast in much the same manner.

It was almost ten to eleven when the doorbell went and I frowned at the thought of who it could possibly be.

“Mum, door.” Teddy informed me, still so invested in his colouring. I hummed softly in turn, wiping my hands before getting up to go answer it.

“Remember to put the lids back on.” I reminded him about the pens, tucking his hair behind his ear as I rounded his seat, “I’ll just be a sec, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

I smiled softly at his monosyllabic reply, listening to him mumble to himself as I padded my way into the hallway. From here I could just make out the darkened shadow standing on the other side of the door’s paned glass and flicked through a mental list of who it could possibly be, wondering if I'd forgotten anything that was supposed to be happening today. But I reckoned it could just as easily have been Finn dropping by for an impromptu visit, or Adi even.

Flicking the latch and pressing down on the handle, I opened it up only to blink at the figure that stood before me. They gifted me an impish grin as they pushed away from the door’s stoop and onto steady feet.

“Figured I’d just pop by, say hello.” Matty mentioned by way of hello, fiddling with an unlit cigarette he held between his fingers whilst I continued to stare back in surprise, “Studio’s been booked for the day, so I managed an easy escape.” He added when I made no move to reply, “Thought we could grab a coffee or something- if you ain't busy, that is.”

He tacked that last bit on in a rush, as though he was beginning to understand why I was so silent. He’d really, really caught me off guard here.

“Er, I mean it’s a bit out of the blue and that. Should've really texted, I know. But I figured I'd try my luck.” He blundered again, shifting awkwardly on my front step now, looking enough out of place for it to finally blink me out of my stupor.

“I-” I went to say but was ultimately interrupted by another voice from further inside the flat, one that was approaching on toddling feet all too fast for me to react to its sudden presence.

Matty’s eyes bulged a tad at the little face that poked its way out from behind my knees, and mine followed when it finally hit me what was actually happening. 

“God, sorry! You just- it’s- I just wasn’t expecting you.” I fumbled, arms reaching down on impulse to pick up the toddler by my feet. I forced out a heavy breath before plastering on a big smile for Teddy, who only seemed to have eyes for the curly haired man staring back at him. “Um, you wanting to come in then? I can do tea, I think. Coffee, even.”

I didn’t really give Matty much of a choice in the matter though, in truth, because I was sailing away to escape the sudden scenario that had started on my doorstep, simply so that I could wrap my head around it all. It was just as I made it back into the kitchen that I heard the door rattle close behind us though and then, as I'd perched Teddy back in his seat, I glanced up to find that Matty had in fact accepted the offer of a warm brew.

It was strange to watch it all fall into place for him, his eyes straying over toys that littered the livingroom floor, the tiny bike which sat in the corner, the star-chart that hung on the cupboard above the fridge, all of Teddy’s artwork and clothes that had been thrown about haphazardly over the last day or two.

I swallowed around my anxiety then, not really sure how I felt now that I knew that Matty finally knew. Because see, I had never really been sure. Teddy wasn’t much of a well kept secret amongst my longtime listeners but I didn’t go flaunting pictures around or mentioning him at every turn. For safety reasons and privacy’s sake. So I hadn't been too certain on whether Matty knew of him or not, having noticed that he’d failed to ever mention him in our texts or calls.

“Um, sorry for the mess. Work’s been a nightmare, and this is my first proper day off in weeks, you know? So." I shrugged a little helplessly, looking out at all of the chaos, then decided to pull on my big girl trousers and trek through this mess like I did everything else in life. “Tea, then? Or coffee?”

The small cough that escaped Matty’s throat echoed around the room once he’d found purchase in the kitchen’s entryway and his voice was tinged with a slight rasp when he finally spoke, “Yeah, uh yeah, please. Coffee.”

I smiled mostly to myself as I turned away to refill the kettle, my mind still whirling but finding relief in Matty’s obvious shock too. Whilst it began to boil though I had nothing much to occupy my mind with, so I decided to putter back on over to the table where Teds had started back up with his drawing and attempted to relax my shoulders. 

“Go on, sit down,” I said to Matty, pointing to a chair as I tried to steer us back into easier waters, “Feel lucky you just missed breakfast, this one tends to get it everywhere.” I chuckled lightly in hopes to fill the quiet I was met with.

Teddy glanced up at me then with a prominent pout, obviously not too pleased about my comment.  “No.” He argued and I heard Matty snort as he finally took a seat opposite, leaving Teddy to act as the buffer between us both.

“Uh, yes.” I fired back at the toddler, but little good it did me when Teddy only seemed to maintain his avid disagreement. 

“Uhuh. I eat it all today.” He reminded me, lips pushed out as his brows climbed higher up his forehead, leaning against the table’s edge again on his elbows. “See?” He added on, pointing a finger over towards where a sink full of soapy dishes now laid.

I smiled, unable to do anything but, though it was Matty who actually replied to him, which both surprised me and put me on immediate edge. “I mean, the little guys got a point. If you ate it all then there can’t be any mess, right?” He directed that last bit towards the little rugrat attempting to evade all guilt and I paused in wait to see how Teddy would respond.

Teddy appeared wary for a moment, blinking over at Matty in a startle, probably having not expected to be roped into a conversation, before his lips settled into something more like a grin. “Right!” He mimicked with a short nod of his head, his ‘r’ sounding more like a ‘w’.

Matty all but beamed at the sudden attention he’d drawn and continued to do so once Teddy started prattling away to him at a hundred miles an hour. I just left them to it, listening in as I padded back over to finish making the drinks. 

It was only after Matty had just about knocked back most of his coffee that Teddy grew tired of talking and asked if we could do something fun, eyes drifting over towards where we often kept his wellies. I knew just what fun he was looking to find.

I conceded easily enough, seeing as it was both his day as well as mine, and smiled with a gesture of my chin, “Go on then, but brush your teeth and find some proper clothes, then we can head on over. Alright?”

Teddy’s head shook up and down in rapid succession, already bolting up out of his seat to make a run for his bedroom. Matty wore an inquisitive look once it was just him and I, both of us sat on opposite sides of the table.

“The park.” I informed the singer, fiddling with the handle of my now empty mug whilst my eyes kept sliding back and forth from the counter to Matty himself.

The man simply hummed and leaned back in his seat, I was forced to watch on as he cast his eyes about the rest of my kitchen, taking his fill now that he had a moment to finally do so. I swallowed and struggled with the unforeseen worries of what he might see, what he might think of it all.

I wasn't well off, by any means. But I had a decent income, enough to provide for Teddy and I, as well as live comfortably. Though if the radio show suddenly dipped and we lost most of our viewing, then there’d be a whole different story to be told.

Even so, it was a much different life to the one Matty lived. That much I knew. So it wasn't too strange of me to wonder whether or not it met any of his standards. And how it alone made me feel.

“How old then?”

The question startled me somewhat, enough that I blinked and looked up at him without thought. My brows furrowed a tad and so he continued, “Teddy- was that it?” And at my nod of confirmation, he smiled at me for another answer, “How old is he?”

Caught off guard still, I gaped for a second and then forced myself to reply, “Um, four, he’ll be five soon enough.”

“Wow.” Was what Matty replied with in a soft murmur, his head moving in an ever so slight nod, “A good age though.” At my questioning look, he chuckled, “Or so I’ve been told.”

I hummed, mostly amused, then fiddled with one of the many pens Teddy had left behind at the table.

“They’ve all been good so far- the ages.” I said to him, rather stupidly, and grimaced around a low laugh at myself, “Just, I mean he’s a good kid, is all.”

Matty was smiling at me when I glanced back up, his eyes squinting with the strength of it. He knocked his fist on the table lightly, “Seems it. Just wish you’dve mentioned him sooner.”

I frowned at that, lips pursing as my nose wrinkled. I didn’t much like the way he’d phrased that last bit, because it’s not that I wasn’t proud of Teddy, I was always showing him off, constantly even. But I also didn’t feel as though everyone had the right to see to that. “Yeah, well he’s not a secret I’ve kept hidden. It’s just safer mostly.”

It was Matty’s turn to frown then, seemingly offended by the offhand remark. “What and that includes me, does it? You think that I’d be a danger to him?”

I stared back at him, brow dipped a tad, eyes squinted. Because I hadn’t meant to hurt him, far from, though could he really blame me for being cautious, for having wanted to keep Teddy away for as long as I had? 

“No,” I answered him, and it was an honest one, “But only now, after having known you as long as I have. I mean, you can’t really be surprised by the fact that I didn’t mention him in the beginning, Matty. I hardly knew you! I’d only ever had the picture that’d been painted of you in my head, I didn’t want that around him.”

He scoffed quietly at that and I heard the way his boot kicked out under the table as he shuffled further back in his chair to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah and what about now then?”

He had me there, I supposed. I sighed and raised a hand to rub at my tired eyes, this wasn't a conversation I had planned for yet, let alone on a morning like this.

“It’s hard, okay? It’s hard to know when to introduce him to new people, he’s only ever really known those closest to me, and after that it’s just been his nursery teacher and the handful of kids in his class.” I explained, watching Matty and hoping he heard the truth in my words, “And you’re this fucking celebrity people love, you’ve got places to be, fans to meet! I never once thought that you’d stick around, not for as long as you have at least. Or that you’d eventually pull me into your life.”

He looked up then, expression so carefully made. “And that’s a bad thing?”

I folded in on myself a little at his question. Unsure.

Matty rolled his lips together and dipped his chin in a slow nod, “Right.”

“Matty, it’s not like that.” I tried.

He was quick with his reply though, all but leaning into the table’s edge now, “Then what’s it like, Mouse?”

He hardly ever called me Mouse, from the day we’d met it had always been Squeaks.

I dragged a hand over my face and then into my hair, perhaps in hopes to bide my time, but mainly because I felt cornered. How was I supposed to tell Matty how much I valued him? His chaotic presence in my life, his texts and calls, his friendship. It was something I hadn’t known I’d needed, but he’d come along and surprised me. He had stuck around, even when I thought he wouldn’t, and he wasn’t asking for anything more than just my company. He didn’t have an ulterior motive, some trick up his sleeve. Or at least that’s what I believed.

“Does this change things, knowing I have a son?” I heard myself ask him, it was a genuine curiosity but I also had to know. I didn’t want to be strung along or let Matty into Teddy’s life like I had Finn and Adi, only for him to then up and leave when he finally grew bored of the normality of it all.

Matty simply stared back at me, those brown eyes of his narrowed as they flittered back and forth between my own, his lips parted slightly as he thought the question over.

“Do you want it to?”

And that hadn’t been the answer I was expecting.

Instantly I shook my head, dropping the pen so that my hands could fall limply into my lap. “Of course not, I like having you around, Matty. Me keeping Teddy from you has nothing to do with that.”

He continued to watch me.

Then finally he conceded with a prompt nod and I felt myself breathe in. “So, the park. Is there a spare invitation going?”

I let the air go in a stilted chuckle, smiling at the common ground he’d gifted us but also at the image of Matty messing about in a playground of all places. “Yes, yeah, ‘course.” I assured him, “Just, be prepared for any puddles, alright? He will soak you if you're within five feet of the splashzone.”

Matty finally laughed too, this soft thing I hadn’t really ever heard from him before, not in this way at least, and then grinned, whirling around in his seat when a stomping toddler came darting back into the room.

“Wellies ta!”

My eyes fell closed as I released another heavy sigh, “Please! Teds. Remember? Please, not ta.”

Teddy merely blinked back up at me and so I decided it would have to be a battle picked for yet another day. 

“Fine, go get them then.”

Matty snorted unhelpfully, which brought him to Teddy’s attention once more. “Need help with ‘em, little man?” He asked, raising a brow at me in hopes that it’d be okay.

I swallowed but ultimately nodded, I couldn’t not when Teddy’s curls started bouncing wildly with the nodding of his head at the question.

And so, I watched them go, Matty taking Teddy’s extended hand, praying that I hadn’t made a massive mistake here. Hoping that somehow Matty would prove me wrong and stay, for a little while.

–

The days after Matty’s impromptu visit came with little to no fuss, it was only when the man wasn’t in the studio that was on the phone to me- and by extension, Teddy as well, who’d taken quite the shine to him. Who could’ve known, hey?

Still, it was a massive change of pace. For me at least, I hadn’t managed to get a read on how Matty felt about it all, but I had yet to worry over it. Mostly because of the Christmas period and how stressed I’d been.

“Finn, I swear he’s driving me out of my mind!” I complained down the phone to my best mate, the thing was currently perched between my shoulder and ear whilst I attempted to throw my hair up into a half-arsed bun, if only to keep it out of my face. “The mess! I mean, it’s like a tornado’s gone and ripped its way through my flat!”

“He’s four, babe.” Came Finn’s unhelpful response. I huffed.

“Exactly! Four, how can someone so small create such a massive mess?” I stressed, trying to clear away as much of the clutter my living room was presently made up of as quickly as I could. “Mam’s gonna be here in,” I glanced hurriedly over at the clock on the far wall and felt my anxiety spike, “Just over an hour! I can’t let her walk into a bombsite!”

Finn laughed at that and so I scowled in retort, even if he couldn’t see me through the phone.

“Finn!” I admonished.

“Alright, sorry! It’s just, she’s your mum, babe. She won’t care what the flat looks like.” He tried to soothe me as he moved about on the other side, doing whatever it was that he was doing. “Why’s he made such a mess anyway?”

I gritted my teeth as I stepped on yet another rogue piece of Lego and just dropped down to start rounding everything and anything I could possibly see into a great big tub. 

“He’s excited, wanted to look nice for when mam shows up but also wanted to showcase to her all of his drawings and sculptures.” I told him, grimacing at the penstained action figure I picked up before tossing it amongst the heap too. “I’ve been in the kitchen mostly, cooking for when she arrives, so I didn’t really bear witness to the fact that he’d taken my permission and flipping run with it! You should see my front room, Finn.” I shook my head for the umpteenth time since I’d walked in and blinked at the chaos I’d been met with, “It’s a proper tip.”

I was given a resounding chuckle once more and simply decided to slump there on the floor, glad to note that most of everything had now been packed into the box. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.

“Finn, I don’t even want to go and see what his bedroom looks like as of right now. I can just picture how his wardrobe’s been overturned and all of his clothes have been tossed about the room.” 

I forced myself up onto my feet then, halfheartedly listening to Finn’s reply. I still needed to sort myself out before anything else and that thought alone stressed me out further.

And of course! Of course it would be in that exact moment that the doorbell went.

“Fuck.” I mumbled to myself, but found my feet already taking me towards the door. I paused only briefly by the mirror to catch sight of the mess my hair was in and tugged it free in hopes it’d help somewhat, “Listen babe, sorry for all my whinging but I’d best go. Door’s just gone and I’m guessing it’ll be that parcel I’ve been waiting on.”

“Cutting it pretty late there.” Finn said and I couldn’t agree more. It was the 23rd, Christmas was now only days away and still I’d yet to receive it- even after having ordered it well over three weeks ago!

“Fucking hell, tell me about it,” I groaned, opening the door up to be met with the sight of a big wrapped box blocking my vision. My forehead wrinkled in utter confusion, “Um, Finn? I really am going to have to call you back.”

“Why, what’s happened? Don’t leave me hanging! Who is it!”

The parcel dropped down an inch then to reveal a familiar grin and shining eyes. 

“Surprise?”

I hurriedly hung up the phone and shoved it into my back pocket, the feeling of bewilderment unable to override the instant worries that washed over me about what a state I must've looked. But I bullied those thoughts back down, ignoring the massive part of me that was currently screaming at the entire situation, for whatever reason I couldn’t even begin to really understand, cause it was just Matty, right? And instead propped myself up against the doorframe.

“What’s this then?” I asked, unable to help my smile when he was looking back at me seemingly so pleased with himself.

“Christmas, in’t it?” He replied all too easily, shaking the rather large present he held in his grasp to further the point.

“I can see that.” I chuckled, shaking my head a little at the picture he made, all bundled up on my front doorstep practically dwarfed by the box he’d brought along. “I just thought you were headed home today.”

He shrugged, an action that was made funnier by the large parcel, but continued smiling, “Meant to, just couldn’t leave without seeing you lot first.”

I blinked, startled by his words. But grinned when he merely widened both his eyes in exaggeration.

“It is fucking freezin’ out here, you know! Could invite a mate in.” Matty reminded me, so I hummed, mulling it over. But he wasn’t one to give up too easily and bribery appeared to be his best tactic here, “I’ve got presents. So open up or they’re going back.”

I narrowed my eyes in turn, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but darling I would.”

I found myself grinning at him again, something I tended to do whenever he was around it seemed. There was just something about him, I supposed. 

He went to take a step back then and I relented all too easily. “Alright.” I laughed, opening the door up wider to allow him in. Matty all but jumped over the threshold, bringing the cold in with him, and whilst he set about shaking off his coat I went to close the door behind him, only to be stopped by a bright red coat.

“Oh, thanks.” I said in surprise to the postie that managed to time his arrival so perfectly. “Thank you,” I repeated for good measure, shooting my head up from the packaged parcel he’d handed me, “Happy Holidays!” He grinned in return, already taking off back down the steps and parroting the same sentiment to me.

I finally managed to shut the door after that and was met with a ruddy-faced Matty, who was wrapped in a big jumper I was immediately jealous of.

“Last minute present?” He wondered with a smirk and I waved him off.

“Ordered it weeks ago, got here just in time.”

Matty hummed and turned back to glance down at the big box that now rested against my hallway radiator, level with my hip it seemed. “Where is the monster?” He asked me, using the name both he and Teddy had taken a liking to.

My brow furrowed slightly. “You really didn’t have to, Matty.” I said to him quietly, looking down at the present he’d gotten for my son. 

He was having none of it though, rolled his eyes in fact and hunched over to pick the box up again. “Shut up.”

I snorted and couldn’t help but bite back, “You shut up.”

��Real mature, sweetheart. Ain’t you parents meant to be all boring and nice?” Matty quipped as he wandered his way into my living room, I breathed in a sigh of relief when I followed behind and found that my efforts in cleaning hadn’t been in vain.

“Ha ha. Should’ve taken up comedy.” I retorted to him, fixing a few pillows that sat askew on the settee, something to which Matty also rolled his eyes at.

“Nah, band makes more money.” He answered easily, like he’d thought about it before, as he glanced about for the best place to put the box.

“By the tree if you want, or you can leave it next to the chair so he’ll see it when he barrels in.”

Matty laughed and went with the latter. “You been alright then?” He asked me, taking the time to glance at all the holiday cards that rested on the mantelpiece nearby.

“Yeah,” I sighed with a small smile, “Hectic but that’s expected, isn’t it?”

He shot me a warm grin, nodding. “Christmas, babe.” Was all he replied with, which was fair enough, then he went to reach out to pick up a picture frame of me and a very very tiny Teddy. “When was this?”

I stepped closer and smiled down at the photo, “I was still in hospital with him then, my midwife took it.”

Matty hummed, looking down at it with a soft smile. It was then that I heard a thump sound somewhere down the hall, so I released a weighted breath and forced myself to step away, “I’ve got to go check on Teddy, he wanted to dress himself this morning and he’s been way too quiet.”

With another laugh, Matty let me go, nosing through more of the photos and cards which sat along the shelf. Something I could understand, he’d only been here just twice before, but even still, he didn’t care for how blatant he was with his nosing. 

I took the parcel with me as I went, slipping into my bedroom to unwrap and grin down at it. It was Matty’s, which is why its arrival had been so perfect. I'd begun to think that I would have to give it to him the next time I saw him. But now was as good a time as ever.

In a rush, I pulled out a gift bag and some coloured tissue paper, having no time to actually wrap it, and plopped it in. Making my way into the next room to see where Teddy had gotten to.

When I pushed his door open further than it was, I was only slightly surprised by the state of it. The rugrat in question, though, was stood by his wardrobe door, pulling an array of funny faces in its mirror.

“Oi mister, what you been up to?”

Teddy startled slightly at my voice but was giggling when he spun around to spot me. “Got dressed myself.” He stated, pointing proudly at the t-shirt he’d managed to pull on.

“Hm, so you have!” Taking in the jeans and tee combo he’d picked, I then grinned over at him, “Looking good, boyo. Could be a little stylist when you’re older, you know!”

Teddy gave me one of his impish grins and then darted over towards me. “No!” He dragged out in reply, hands clutching at my legs now he was near, his sweet mischievous face staring up at me, “Gone be like you.”

I had to press my lips together then to keep the strength of my smile at bay, his words making my heart swell. “You little charmer.” I chuckled, running a hand through his unruly locks, “Come on though, you’ve got a visitor.”

His eyes widened as he jumped back to rock onto the balls of his feet. “Mémé?” He asked excitedly and I almost felt bad about it not being her, but I knew how much Teddy had also grown to like Matty in the recent days so I wasn't too fussed.

I shook my head, “Not yet, soon though. But somebody else came to see you.”

Teddy’s eyebrows rose as he thought about who it could be and so, knowing that we could possibly be here all day, I started to steer him out into the hallway.

“Finny?” He asked, then, “Santa?”

I snorted, then shook my head to both. “Nope and no. Why don’t we just go see, hey?”

And with that I pushed the door to the living room open wider and watched on as Teddy gasped at the sight of the curly haired frontman standing by our settee.

“Matty!” He all but squealed, practically catapulting himself across the room to make a dive for the man.

Matty laughed, though also seemed startled by the reaction he’d garnered. He swept Teddy up though, all the same, and jostled him around before settling the toddler on his hip, eyes bright with something when they glanced over at me. I smiled, a heavy feeling settling itself in my chest.

“Alright, mate? What you been up to?” Matty asked Teddy, falling back onto the cushions behind them and stationing the toddler next to him.

Teddy replied in earnest, excited to tell Matty all the tales he had stored away since the last time they’d spoken, which had been a few nights previous over a FaceTime call. 

I shook my head in amusement and trailed over towards the kitchen, silenting motioning to Matty to see if he wanted a drink. The answer, as always, was yes and so I set about brewing him his usual, along with my own, taking the time to clean myself up a bit too.

By the time I walked back in, Teddy had just about finished telling Matty all the details of his last day at nursery (they’d had a party), which I’m sure the man had already heard about, but who acted as though it was the most brilliant story he’d ever been told. 

“One coffee.” I said in greeting, placing the two mugs onto coasters before taking a perch on the armchair by them.

“Ta.” Matty replied, grinning madly when Teddy cackled gleefully and repeated the word over and over. I rolled my eyes at the pair of them and took a calming sip of tea, unaware of how much I’d been in dire need of it. Whoever claimed Sunday’s were a day of rest, were liars.

“He spotted it yet then?” I asked aloud, already knowing the answer seeing as how I didn’t currently have a bouncing Teddy on my hands.

The toddler’s face wrinkled in confusion and he shot his head over to see me, I grinned from behind my mug. “Huh?” He sounded.

Matty hid his next snort well but then hummed too, pushing forward in his seat to grab at his coffee. “Oh his present, you mean?”

That had Teddy’s head spinning. “Where!”

“Manners, bubs.” I reminded, and Teddy nodded so quickly I was honestly a little worried about the whiplash he might face before his eyes were back on Matty.

“Please, present?” Teddy asked, pouting up at the curly haired man with a sudden urgency, his words butchered by his missing bottom teeth.

Matty chuckled, glad for the fact that he’d put his coffee back down in the toddler's haste, and then gestured his head over to the right. “You mean that one?”

Teddy’s eyes, if even possible, widened further, eyebrows reaching the tips of his curls and mouth dropping open as he finally spotted it.

“For me?” He gasped in awe, shuffling down Matty’s leg to approach it, all of his movements now slow as if his shock was stopping him from reacting typically. 

I leaned forward to watch on and Matty did the same, obviously nervous for Teddy’s reaction.

“For you, mate. Was walking by this shop the other day and spotted it, thought of you.” Matty told him seriously, smiling too whilst he wrung his hands together, foot tapping anxiously away, though unaware of it.

Teddy looked back at him, chewing on his bottom lip carefully, taking two more steps before he was touching the wrapping. He oohed at it softly to himself but I caught the way Matty’s face brightened at the sound.

“‘pen now?” Teds asked, his eyes drifting away from the gift, towards me and Matty both.

Matty looked over at me then too, the same question echoed on his face. I nodded with a small smirk, “Go on.”

Teddy’s eyes lit up and he spun back around to marvel at it once more, “W’ats it?”

The snort that escaped me at his ask went unnoticed by the pair as Matty moved to join the toddler on the floor. “Gotta open it up and find out, I ‘spose.”

Teddy’s grin brightened and then he fell to his bum so that he could pull the present closer. “Help?”

Matty blinked at the request and I was witness to the way his throat bobbed before he nodded, “Yeah, sure mate. Here, pull this, alright?”

Teddy did as instructed, tugging on a small opening in the wrapping. 

I noted as he began to tear away at it, how oddly wrapped it really was, meaning that Matty had probably taken the time to wrap it himself. My chest tightened again at the thought.

“Box.” Teddy announced once all the wrapping paper had been discarded on the rug behind him, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from outright laughing at the befuddled expression he gave Matty.

The man had no qualms though, simply chuckled at the question and leaned in closer to force one side of the cardboard box up a little, “Gotta open up that too, monster.”

Teddy’s brows drew together in concentration as he followed Matty’s lead, forcing the lid open more before a loud gasp escaped him. Matty went back to wringing his hands, fiddling with the rings on his fingers whilst I moved over to the settee to get a look too.

My expression faltered at the sight of the beautiful gift Matty had given Teddy. Inside the box rested a guitar in an incredible shade of deep blue, it was small enough for Teddy to hold whilst also being big enough for him to grow with. Even with my obsessive love for music, not once had I ever really thought about buying Teddy such a thing, not one of this calibre at least. It must've cost a fortune.

“Matty.” I whispered, but the man didn’t even spare a look my way, eyes trained on my toddler, trying to garner his reaction.

“You know what it is, mate?” He asked after a moment and Teddy’s little head dipped in a slow nod. Because I knew he knew, he danced around constantly pretending to have one in his hands whenever we had the tele or radio on. Where there was music blaring, there would also be a Teddy playing air guitar.

“‘tar.” Teddy stated in a soft voice, both Matty and I smiled at the way he said it, but the former nodded, pulling the instrument out of the box so that Teddy could get a closer look.

“Cool right?”

Teddy nodded silently again, reaching out a hand to carefully touch the wooden neck, blinking and reeling back when a string strummed. Before he then giggled and reached out once more.

Matty seemed to slump in relief, evidently glad that Teddy liked it. But I’d go as far to even say he adored it, never had he ever been so gentle with anything.

“Have you got something to say to Matty, Teds?” I prompted, ignoring the way my throat caught at the emotion I felt. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it.

Teddy pulled his eyes away from the guitar to gaze up at Matty as though he was something other. I merely blinked at the reaction and before I knew it Teddy had thrown himself into Matty’s arms, startling the man a tad. Matty welcomed him after a second though, glancing over the toddler’s head to share a look with me.

“T’ank you.” I heard Teddy muffle into the collar of Matty’s jumper then, actually saying the words this time. It seemed Matty knew what that meant too, because he tightened his hold on Teddy’s waist a little.

“You’re welcome, mate.”

The rest of Matty’s visit was used to teach Teddy a bit about the basics of a guitar, managing to play an E minor and get started on an A chord. Teddy listened to Matty with rapt attention, barely sparing anything else a second glance, which was startling for a toddler, let alone Teddy who was constantly go, go, go.

Watching them was all too lovely as well. For someone with such a cool front, Matty seemed to melt around Teddy, succumbing to that of the boy’s charm and easy going nature. It was sweet to see, surprising but endlessly sweet. Had me losing track of time, in truth. Which is why I jumped and cursed the way I did when the door finally knocked. 

“Mémé!”

[gguk-n]

The Sky Between Us (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Summary- You can't keep two love birds away, especially not when fairy godmother Carlos has got any say in that.

google translated french

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3- Reunion of Hearts

Charles had magnets in his eyes, especially when it came to Y/N. He could tell if she was in close proximity. That's why he noticed her being sat a couple table away from them. Charles and Carlos were celebrating Carlos's win in Australia after beating appendicitis. He couldn't take his eyes off her, she looked beautiful as ever, laughing so brightly, it made his heart constrict. He wasn't the reason of that bright smile. He wondered had she moved away. He hadn't really tried reaching out to her. How could he? After all he was the one that wanted to end it all. The months after Y/N left were misery to say the least. He would always end up on a piano playing the most heartbreaking notes or moping around. Everyone was fed up with him. Arthur even told him to man up and just talk to her. At least during the season, his mind was preoccupied; the real test was after Abu Dhabi. He was stuck at home, barely left his room. All he could do was go through their old pictures and Y/N social media accounts. He felt some kind of solace knowing that she still followed him, maybe he still had a chance until Christmas when he saw that she had unfollowed him. Y/N had moved on and it was time for Charles to do so too.

The season started off strong, when he stepped on the podium in Saudi Arabia, he hoped that she was watching. Maybe she saw him, maybe just maybe she was still proud of him. 2 weeks later, he was in Australia, Carlos won the GP. All was well, until he saw her. His heart was ready to jump out of his chest. Carlos had noticed where his team mates eyes kept drifting off to. Much to Carlos's relief, it was Y/N. Carlos knew what had to be done. He know Charles still loved her, what he did in Austria was stupid but he needed closure or a second chance if Y/N would give him one. Carlos decided to talk to Y/N when they left their seats to exit the restaurant. Y/N was more than happy to be greeted by Carlos and kept the conversation short and polite. Carlos could only hope for Charles to step in and talk to her, but to his dismay Charles barely came or even spoke to her except for the couple pleasantries. He followed Carlos out of the restaurant as soon as possible. Carlos really wanted to smack his team mate right across his head for not talking to her when he missed her so much.

Carlos spent the next couple of weeks talking to Y/N, trying to gauge the situation. He wanted to know if she felt the same away about Charles before he decided to play cupid. To his delight, she still loved him and seeing him in Australia had brought her back to square one it seems. Carlos was about to make the boldest and scariest suggestion; he asked her to come to Monaco for the GP. She was back from her work trip in Australia and Carlos only asked for a day. He asked her to come to Monaco for the GP, just for the race; he begged her, she didn't even have to be there the whole weekend, just Sunday. Carlos lied that his girlfriend missed her wanted to hang out. Charles better play his cards right, Carlos thought.

Y/N couldn't say no because deep down she knew that she loved Charles and wanted nothing more than to go back to how things were but she knew that it would be fruitless if he truly felt like she didn't care. It was for closure she said, if she ran in Charles, which was a given, she could have a talk with him and finally end this chapter of her life. Amy wasn't really on board with the plan. If she could, she would've tied Y/N down and left her locked in her apartment but Y/N was a big girl now and had to handle her own problems.

Monaco grand prix rolled around quiet slowly for Y/N, she found her self dressing up for the race. She had reached Monaco the morning of the race and made her way to the paddock. The race was going to start in a while, in a turn of events, she didn't run into Charles even though she half hoped to; except, she found Carlos who took her to the Ferrari hospitality. Charles was too busy with their strategist. He only saw Y/N as he was getting ready to get in the car. Their eyes met and Charles bolted in her direction, "Y/N, you are here, you're real." he said while holding her hands. She pulled her hands away from him, "All the best Charles." she said while looking into his eyes. "Please, stay. I'll come see you after the race." Charles begged. "I'll think about it, maybe if you win the race." she suggested.

The race was off too a good start with Charles at pole position, there were a couple crashes and one safety car but Charles finished P1 in his home race, breaking the Monaco curse. The whole team ran to Charles, but his eyes were only on her. The first person he spotted in the crowd and the first person he hugged after winning was Y/N. It was like she was his lucky charm, he broke the curse because of her being there. "I have to meet the team and do the post race interview. Please just wait for me, I'll be back and we'll have a talk." he said earnestly while looking into her eyes. She nodded with tears in her eyes, "I'll be in your driver's room" she muttered feeling the honesty in his words.

Charles couldn't wait to finish all the post race celebrations and the interviews. All he could hope was for Y/N to actually be waiting for him. He ran to his driver's room and to his relief, there she was, sat on the leather couch. It wasn't a dream, she really saw him win his home race. He slowly walked towards her, "I can't believe you're here." Charles breathed out. He wanted to hold her but he held himself back. "Well, I wouldn't be, if not for Carlos." she said. "I'll have to thank him later." he muttered more to himself. "I'm so sorry mon amour, I was out of line in Austria. I haven't been able to forgive myself for hurting you or the words I said. I love you and I am so sorry for everything. I completely understand if you don't want anything to do with me but knowing that you were watching me and knowing that you saw me win my home race meant everything. I love you so much and I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if you'll let me" he rambled on. Y/N had a smile on her face, she knew she loved him but she wasn't going to forgive him that easy. "Firstly, congratulations on the win. I'm happy I got to share such a special moment with you. I was and am still hurt by the things you said, but I still love you. So, I am willing to give us another chance." she said. Charles hugged her while resting his head in the crook of her neck, "I'll cherish this opportunity and make sure to never repeat this mistake ever again." he whispered. Y/N felt tears against her skin, she knew he was being honest. And he was an idiot, but she was willing to keep that idiot if he would have her. "Today is the best day of my life." Charles said while looking into Y/N's eyes. "Is it because you won Monaco?" she said. "Not only did I win Monaco, but I also won my girl back." he said. "I'm not a prize baby, you still have a lot of work to do before you 'win' me" she chided. Charles knew that and he was grateful for the opportunity.

They started dating again, Carlos was very happy with his brilliant work, going as far as asking them to name their first born after him; to which Charles was not opposed to. He really owed Carlos big time. Charles knew that these are once in a life time chances and he wasn't about to lose it. He knew whether he travelled around the world racing in an F1 car or not, his heart would always be where ever Y/N was. He was happy to leave his heart with his home forever.

THE END

hope you liked it!

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

being tony stark's daughter would include... (headcanons)

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 778

request: yes / no

original request: can you do one where the reader is tony’s daughter and loves to wear fancy stuff like cher from clueless 😭. and instead of being that stereotypical “mean spoiled rich girl”, the reader is actually super sweet and people sometimes take that for granted and use her for her stuff and money?

dynamic: tony stark x stark daughter!reader

characters: reader, tony stark, happy hogan, mention of steve rogers, natasha romanoff, bruce banner, peter parker, harley keener, and miles morales

a/n: ty for the request!! also requests are still open hehe :)

coming soon: clint barton younger sibling headcanons, overprotective avengers when reader has a boyfriend headcanons, hanging at the sanctum sanctorum over break headcanons

taglist: @nutellani

(message me or send an ask if you'd like to be included in the taglist!)

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tony stark is an awesome dad. 

like he just goes above and beyond to make you smile.

it’s well-known that he spoils everyone at the compound, but since you’re his daughter, he spoils you A LOT.

you’ll come home from school often to find a little box on your bed, and it’s always something you either had mentioned in passing, or something that you didn’t even know you needed. 

like you got into crocheting for a little bit. you now have buckets full of multicolored yarns in every texture and color one could ever need!!

also i feel like when you told him your favorite ice cream was the same flavor as his favorite, he literally almost burst with excitement.

and now you ALWAYS have that ice cream.

he even built a little gadget that only lets you and him eat out of it.

the only exception to the rule is happy, as thor painfully found out one day.

he went to have some and it shocked him, but happy just reached in and got it anyway.

also if you’re tony stark’s daughter, i just have to say what an iconic trio you, your dad, and happy are.

like y’all always look so badass with matching shades or whatever.

you got matching shirts for you three for christmas and they both reluctantly wore it.

natasha took like fifteen pictures and steve was literally on the floor dying because he thought it was so funny.

anyways one of the coolest things about being tony stark’s daughter are the gadgets.

for example, you have a lot of clothes. but guess what? you don’t ever have to do laundry.

all of your clothes are put in this special hamper. it washes, dries, and folds/hangs the clothes up for you, then puts them away in a neat fashion. 

you have a high tech mirror (ala cher from clueless!!!!) where you can “try on” outfits before you actually retrieve them to wear.

it’s kind of awesome? 

jk it IS awesome.

anyways you’re also super smart.

science and math just come easily.

it must be…. in your blood or something.

bruce made that joke once and tony locked him out of the lab. then peter tried to make it too and tony made him go “test” a robot that blocks people out of a room HAHA

that being said, your dad actually lets you in the lab.

ikr? kind of crazy.

you have your own little corner to work on stuff.

also you and bruce are so iconic. i think you would have tea parties every sunday. 

tony says it’s “childish” but you can tell he’s jealous

once you caught happy setting up high tea for him and tony but then he told you that you didn’t actually see anything

now, it’s usually a great thing to be tony stark’s daughter

but finding real friends is tough.

there are people who are awesome, like peter parker, harley keener, and miles morales. 

but there’s a lot of people who’ll use you to get to your dad or your money.

and yes that sounds stereotypical, but it’s really tough.

there was a group of kids who seemed really excited to go out with you, but then you realized it was all for social media clout and that they expected gifts and stuff.

so you ended up exploding on them, and it gave your dad some bad press.

you were so embarrassed that you locked yourself in your room, refusing to come out.

happy left some tea outside but you didn’t want it.

so then finally tony came in.

guys he’s iron man he can get through a locked door 

and you didn’t really want to talk.

so instead he just put on some music.

some really loud guitar music.

and then, with the door still open, tony stark began playing air guitar.

now you knew he would do this sometimes, but not with the door open.

and then he started to SING.

that man cannot sing guys.

needless to say, it gave you a laugh.

he grabbed your hands, pulled you up, and the two of you started dancing around the room, laughing harder than ever before.

when the song ended, he told you he wasn’t mad.

and that people can be losers sometimes

but that you certainly weren’t.

then he said one day he would come up with a loser detector so that you wouldn't have to go through something like that again.

and he was only half joking, so you just laughed.

but deep down, you were happy to have someone who cared for you as much as your dad, tony stark, did.

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