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silverbyeol · 9 months

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Ocean Breeze - JJ Maybank

Summary: JJ Maybank is finally living his dream- surfing around the world. His first stop? Sydney, Australia.

Author’s note: Apologies for the lack of knowledge on anything surfing related. Everything is just made up. I tried my best to not include any gendered language or how you look. Hope you all enjoy~

Trigger warning: Sexual violence. Please take of yourself <3

Word count: about 3k

JJ found himself caught in the vibrant embrace of Sydney, Australia, an unexpected adventure unfolding before him. The allure of worldwide travel and catching waves had materialised right before his eyes, as he stood ready to take on an international surfing championship. This was not his first surfing competition, back in the states he won a few local ones that helped him fund this endeavour.

Nerves pricked at him, the sun-kissed blonde meandered along the shoreline, observing the competitors huddled in conversation with their friends and coaches. Amidst the unfamiliar landscape, he found himself a solitary figure, a foreigner in a land of strangers. His friends back in North Carolina were entwined in their own lives, yet their promises to catch the live stream provided a tether to familiarity. Lost in thought, JJ's path led him to an accidental collision.

“Hey! Ow…”

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry…” JJ's gaze dropped swiftly to meet your disgruntled expression as you sat on your bum on the warm sand. Extending his tan toned arm, he helped you rise from the sand, an apologetic grin tugging at his lips. His blue eyes locked with yours, his features etched with a sheepish charm.

“My bad, I wasn't watching where I was headed. Sorry,” he said and reached to scratch the back of his neck. You noticed how attractive the young American was and your annoyance quickly faded, revealing a blend of curiosity and intrigue.

“No worries, it was an accident. Happens,” you said to the man in your distinct Aussie accent as you dusted the sand off from your lower body, “I’m Y/n.” The energy between you two seemed to shift, JJ's awkward smile now evolving into an endearing grin.

"JJ," he responded, his name rolling off his tongue with ease.

“You in the competition?” you inquired, eager to prolong this newfound connection. The enigma of JJ had piqued your interest.

“Yeah… You?” His interest mirrored yours, his curiosity eager for further interaction.

"Absolutely, been ridin' those competition waves for a while," you trailed off, a flicker of fascination dancing in your eyes. "Anyway, I won't keep you from your group any longer. You’re probably keen to rejoin your companions..."

“Nah… I’m flying solo. First time away from the states actually,” JJ confessed.

“Oh? So I take it you haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing what our little continent has to offer? Say… I don’t go on for quite a while, you wanna join me and my friends?” Your rationale for inviting a stranger remained unclear – maybe it was his charm, or perhaps a sense of camaraderie for a fellow traveller finding his footing in a foreign land.

A raised eyebrow from JJ prompted a giggle from you, “Don’t worry. We don’t bite.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds fun,” he replied. For the first time in his life, JJ felt awkward and lost for words. He was always so talkative and outgoing, yet right now he felt out of place.

“Perfect!” you brightly beamed, “We’re just down here,” as you guided JJ through the bustling beach scene, you led him to a shaded tent, where a group of people lounged, escaping the harsh sun rays.

“Hey, you lot. Smells good,” you said, making four heads turn towards your direction.

"Who's the fresh face?" A male voice expressed curiosity.

“Right. This is JJ, he’s here from the states,” you introduced, eyes shifting to JJ as the group's collective gaze turned his way.

“Hi.” he plainly said and gave a small wave with his fingers.

“JJ, Vince over there,” you started as you pointed out the male who spoke, “is my coach and also a good friend. That bookworm there is Hannah. Olivia's busy with a board, and-”

“Y/n, forever adoptin' strays,” an unfamiliar voice interjected.

“And that’s Bryce. Don’t listen to him. Jealous because he’s never come close to bestin' me in a comp,” you playfully taunted.

“Got any clue what you're signin' up for, blondie? Y/n's been sweepin' the comps for five straight years, no joke,” Bryce quipped, eyeing the American newcomer.

JJ's gaze lingered on you, tracing the contours of your face. Your name stirred a hint of recognition, a whisper of familiarity resonating. Y/n and Australia…

“Hang on… you’re The Y/n? Sharky?” he said as it suddenly clicked to him. There was a collective laugh from the group at the nickname.

“I hate that nickname, but yeah” you replied and rolled your eyes.

During the next few hours, JJ found himself immersed in a camaraderie that felt like a homecoming. The group took to him right away and he felt as if he had known them for his whole entire life. Bryce grilled some fresh fish and vegetables for the group and offered JJ a plate. They even cheered for him from the shore as he surfed the waves during his competition entry.

JJ quickly saw why he got along with your group so easily. They were just like his friends back home. Olivia was confident and passionate about everything she did, she was the John B of this group. Hannah's laid-back aura, quick wit, and bohemian flair mirrored Kie's vibe. Vince, the group's cautious thinker, embodied the Pope-like role of practicality and guidance. Bryce, though exhibiting a rebellious attitude, exuded a tender heart. And you, well, you remained an enigma, a unique presence unlike anyone JJ had known.

JJ watched you as you surfed during your entry. You looked determined and focused, there was nothing that could stop you as you rode the waves with passion and grace.

"Y/n's really killing it," Vince noted, the group's eyes collectively fixated on your performance from the shore. Not only that, but the whole beach stood by as they watched you. JJ marvelled at the spectacle, the entire coastline captivated by your prowess.

“And that was Y/n ‘Sharky’ L/n! Next up, please welcom-'' said a loud voice over a megaphone, but it faded into the background as JJ remained fixated on the water. Anticipation mounted, yet he remained rapt, unwilling to divert his gaze. Your return to the shore prompted a swell of applause, a triumphant smile gracing your lips.

“Y/n’s something else,” Olivia said to JJ, “We usually head back once the crowd gathers. Wanna hang with us, J?” she continued. The others from the group were already walking back to their spot at the beach.

“Yeah sur-” he started, but was quickly cut off.

A sudden masculine voice cut through the atmosphere. “Hey, Sharky!” The audacious salutation accompanied an unwelcome slap on your behind, the instigator sporting an unapologetic grin. “Impressive performance out t-” he attempted, but your voice silenced him.

“What the fuck?” you yelled out and without hesitation spun around, your fist connecting with the man's nose. He fell back and you started to scream, “Who do you think you are! Have some fucking respect you absolute pig!”

Olivia intervened, attempting to lead you away from the escalating situation. "Come on, Y/n, people are watching."

“I don’t care who’s watching. This piece of garbage-” you said and looked down. The man was holding his nose as blood gushed out of it.

“You bitch! Look what you did to me!” he yelled as he started to get angry.

“And I'd be thrilled to do much worse!” you yelled back and started lunging at him, but JJ acted swiftly as he caught you, halting your impending assault.

"Let it go, he's not worth it. You'll only get yourself disqualified," JJ reasoned, his intentions sincere. You spun your head around and came face to face with his blue eyes. Those blue eyes reminded you of the ocean, you could get lost in them for hours. His calming presence ignited a connection that felt strangely familiar, like an unspoken kinship.

“You’re right.” you concluded and turned back to look at the perpetrator once more. He looked pathetic on the sand as he held his bloody nose in his hand, “You’re not worth my time.” you said. Before you left, you made sure to spit on the man as you mumbled an insulting curse under your breath.

There it is… before now, JJ couldn’t quite figure out who you reminded him of, but he saw that you and him had a few similar qualities. You stormed away from everyone, walking along the shore towards an unknown destination. JJ was at a loss of what to do.

“JJ, go,” Olivia motioned the blonde to follow after you while picking up the dropped surfboard, “I'll fill in the group about what happened.”

“Right.” JJ said and started quickly walking after you keeping a cautious distance. If JJ was in your shoes right now, what would he want? JB usually just pulled him off and they would leave and never talk about it. Would you want to talk about what happened? That man definitely got what he deserved and-

“You’re a loud thinker, JJ,” you said and the both of you suddenly stood face to face again, just centimetres away from each other's bodies.

“I’m not good with this kind of stuff, but are you okay?” he asked and suddenly felt stupid. Of course you weren’t okay, you just got assaulted. You rolled your eyes and a smirk made its way on your lips.

“Can we not talk about that?” you said and dropped down to sit on the warm sand. JJ followed suit, sitting so close to you that your shoulders were almost touching.

“Okay, but that strike was pretty sick…” he said with a small smile on his face. You playfully shoved his shoulder, “You’re a bit feisty aren’t you?” he said in a flirtatious tone.

“A bit? More like a lot.” you corrected and turned your head to lay it on his shoulder.

A comfortable silence engulfed the two of you as you watched the waves hit the shore and roll back into the ocean. Distant sounds of voices were coming from where the surfing competition was happening, but they were drowned out by the sound of the water and birds.

“How’d you get the nickname Sharky?” JJ broke the silence. Without saying anything you straightened up and, with a graceful motion, you began shedding your wetsuit. On your upper right arm was a bumpy scar and suddenly JJ understood.

“Bit by a shark,” you said nonchalantly, as though recounting an everyday occurrence, “I’ve been surfing ever since I could walk. My parents were big surfers, so naturally I was born a gifted child. I reckon it happened when I was ten years old. Obviously it was scary when it happened, but I’ve moved on. Ever since then, I got that nickname. It was cute when I was a kid, now it just seems childish,”

“Looks like you gave ol’ Jaws out there a run for his money, huh?” JJ smirked as he joked.

“I reckon I'm a pretty irresistible catch in those waters," you retorted with a flirtatious edge.

“Should have ‘Catch of the Day’ written across your forehead,” JJ suggested, eliciting a laugh from you.

“Glad I could win a showdown with Jaws. It’s a hell of a story.” you said and the laughter started to die down.

“Glad you won too. Means that I get to meet you,” JJ said, catching you off guard. His blue eyes were unreadable as he studied your face. Perched on the sand, he looked downright irresistible. You felt an overwhelming urge to lean in, to bridge the distance, and seal the moment with a kiss. Your eyes started to close, the anticipation building, but just as the electric tension peaked, a sudden interruption snapped you back to reality.

“Hey! You two!” yelled the voice of Vince who was running towards the pair of you. The both of you turned around towards the sounds looking guilty as if you just got caught by your mom stealing cookies. You quickly stood up and dusted yourself off from the sand, JJ following your motion.

“What’s up?” you asked Vince who was slightly panting.

“They’re going to announce the winners in five. Let’s go.” Vince finished and the three of you headed back towards the populated area of the beach. You glanced at JJ from your peripheral vision and noticed that he was already looking at you with an amused grin.

“I won’t be surprised if you get first again. Everyone else was shit…” Vince talked to you, but you weren’t paying any attention. Your gaze was lost in the blue eyes of the blonde American.

The award ceremony was the most nerve wracking part of the whole competition. The anticipation of who placed was eating away at everyone, but you. You felt accomplished today and if you were to lose or not place, you wouldn’t really mind. There were more people gathered here now than earlier as they anticipated seeing a glimpse of you winning yet another trophy. JJ’s name was called during a lower division group for second place. Even though they only met today, the whole crew was proud of him and excited about the future of his surfing career.

Finally, after about 30 mins, the top division and overall winners of the competition were being announced, “And now… The moment we have all been waiting for. In first place, with a nearly perfect score, we have Australia’s very own, SHARKY!” the announcer called, making the crowd erupt with a roar of cheer. You left your group of friends and headed for the makeshift stage. Volunteers of the event swarmed you, putting a flower crown over your head and handing you a trophy. Reporters snapped pictures of you and the second and third place champions as you all stood there smiling and holding your trophies.

Emotions were high as everyone tried to get an interview or picture/autograph with you. It was quite overwhelming actually. Adults started crowding you and a small voice squeaked from amongst their legs.

“Hey! Stop!” you yelled and the commotion seemed to die down instantaneously, “Let the kid through. You’ll stomp her to death!” you exclaimed loudly, bashing the adults for their recklessness. A small girl was pulled from the crowd and suddenly she stood in front of you as you towered over her.

“Hello…” she said timidly and you crouched down to meet her at eye level.

“Hi, what’s your name?” you questioned with a smile.

“I’m Ellie… I am a big fan,” she continued.

“Well, Ellie, how about you and I take a picture? Where are you parents?” you questioned and took the girl’s hand into your own. Everyone who crowded you parted as you and Ellie walked off in search of her parents. Moments like these are what you loved most about being a ‘celebrity’, it was the knowing that you can inspire a child to get on that board and ride those waves. Seeing the smiles and sparkling glinting eyes made it all worth it.

“Thank you so much!” exclaimed the parents of the girl after you took a picture.

“No problem,” you said with a smile and then turned to the little girl, “I’ll see you out on the waves some day, yeah?” you asked and she nodded her head with confidence.

“Y/n!” yelled the voices of your friends who were all walking towards you with smiles on their faces.

“Congrats, mate. Well-deserved victory,” Vince said and he gave you a congratulatory hug.

“You killed it!”

“Unstoppable, really. Did you see that bloke's mug? He was fumin'!.”

The chorus of pride and encouragement swirled around you, yet your gaze wandered, searching for your new American friend. A grin spread across your face as your eyes locked, and the two of you gravitated toward one another.

“Congrats on that shiny trophy.” JJ said pointing to the heavy object in your hands.

“Thanks. You too.” you replied

“Oh? This wee thing? I’m coming for that prize next,” JJ declared playfully, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

“If you keep it up, who knows? Maybe in a gazillion years, you'll catch up to my level,” you teased, a hint of mischief in your response.

“Is that a wager, then?” JJ's raised eyebrow prompted a chuckle from you.

“Nah, just statin' the facts. But who knows, maybe in the next eon,” you bantered, punctuating your remark with a cheeky wink, “When are you going back home?” you asked in a hopeful tone.

“Tonight. Got a plane at 11,” JJ revealed, momentarily dimming your hopes of future encounters.

“Well, that's a bummer. I would've loved to show you the true gems of Australia. You've barely scratched the surface,” you said, a touch of wistfulness in your tone.

“Yeah, wasn't here long enough, but I've got a good reason to return,” JJ responded, a twinkle of intrigue in his eyes.

“Oh?” you questioned, feeling your saddened mood lift, “What’s your next competition?” you questioned, already excited about seeing the man once again.

“Heading to Florida next month. You gonna be there?” JJ asked, his anticipation mirrored in your own excitement.

“Absolutely. Gotta make sure you understand who rules the waves,” you teased.

“Hah, Florida's my turf, Sharky. Get ready to see how we do it,” JJ retorted, a playful glint in his gaze.

“Maybe after you totally and undeniably defeat me on the waves, you could take me out for a date?” you casually suggested, a grin tugging at your lips.

“You got yourself a deal, Sharky,” JJ agreed, his smile growing broader.

“See you in Florida, Blondie,” you concluded with a smirk, sealing the pact between you two with a firm handshake.

Thanks for reading (:

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silverbyeol · 9 months

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1. Show me where it hurts with JJ pls ❤️‍🩹

𝐌𝐂𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘.

SUMMARY: you accidentally trip over some rocks and hurt your foot , and jj can’t help but worry about his precious girl.

PAIRINGS: jj maybank x fem!reader

WARNINGS: cursing & drug use ( joints. )

BLURB PROMPT: “show me where it hurts.”

“Oh! Shit!” The words came out of your mouth faster than your fall lasted. Somehow , probably between the puffs you’d shared with JJ and your inability to see underneath the skies darkness— you tripped over some rocks along the beach. Your arms came down to catch you , but you’d already scraped the bottom of your foot against one of the edges. The burning sensation made you hiss and try and reach for it— but JJ’s hands were already there.

The high was the last thing on his mind as he immediately dropped down to his knees , hands out in a panic. He looked over you quickly to make sure you were at least breathing— hoping there wasn’t any blood anywhere or any broken bones. His hands hovered over your left foot , panic setting in when he saw a deep red oozing from a cut on your heel. “Show me where it hurts , baby.” He swallowed nervously , hoping that was the only injury.

You winced as you sat up. Your elbows felt a bit sore from the sudden impact but it felt like nothing compared to the stinging you felt on your foot. You couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes at the pain. “On my heel. I think I cut it on the rock.”

You tried calming down your breathing but the sight of blood made you anxious. Your eyes were wild and afraid and JJ could feel your hands starting to shake. He pushed his own worries to the side , grabbing your hand in his to steady the movement. “Hey— look at me.” He muttered softly , reaching up to grab your cheek. “Let me wash it off , okay? So I can look at it. But I don’t think it’s that bad , sweet girl.”

He tried his best to hide his own anxiety. Looking at your puffy cheeks and tearful eyes , his heart started to tug gently. He took the water bottle out from his backpack and lifted your foot up slightly. “Does it hurt when I move it?” JJ’s eyes flickered to your face and you shook your head no. He nodded , beginning to pour the water over your foot as gently as he could. Instinctively your reflexes tried to move away , but he held your ankle firmly. “It’s okay. Just breathe.” He instructed you , rubbing his thumb on the flesh part of your skin.

Your bottom lip trembled as you watched it , hoping that it was just a scratch and it wasn’t at all what you were imagining in your head. The pain was throbbing now , enough to make you cry but not enough to make you think you needed immediate medical attention. “Is it bad? Am I gonna bleed out and like die right here , right now?” You asked him dramatically , the weed in your system upping your anxiety level. JJ sighed in relief when the water had washed all the dirt and sand away and shook his head.

He leaned over and grabbed your face in his hands , looking at you sternly. “We’re wearing shoes on the beach from now on.” JJ told you. “But you’re okay. It’s just a scratch. I don’t think you need stitches.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and gave JJ a small grin. “You’re totally like McDreamy right now.”

JJ couldn’t help but giggle at that , smirking a bit. “Oh so you think I’m dreamy?”

Your arms moved towards his shoulders to dangle there , trapping his head between them. “The absolute dreamiest! Thanks for helping me , J.”

“Anything for my precious girl.”

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silverbyeol · 9 months

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neglect

harrys in an unhappy marriage and didn't realize he was missing so much sunlight until y/n came in

cw: toxic relationship? idk harry's wife isn't nice:(

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Bye, honey. Love you."

Harry didn't realize he had his hopes up for a reciprocated response until nothing came. Minerva left though the door with nothing more than a wave tossed over her shoulder, eyes glued to her phone with a smile that wasn't for him on her lips. He didn't know the last time she said I love you back.

Heaving a sigh that lifted his shoulders before deflating into a slump, Harry locked the front door after his wife as the start of his day alone.

It'd been two weeks since he lost his job in the third round of layoffs his office (ex-office?) was going through. It had been heartbreaking for Harry, having given almost a decade of his life—he was just months short of his ten year anniversary, actually—to this job; having given up on his dreams, and sacrificing time with his family all throughout those years. It all had been thrown away after one bad investor's meeting, leaving him with a measly severance package and a generic goodbye card left on his desk on his last day. As if that day couldn't get any lower, when Minerva finally came home and Harry sat her down to tell her the news, she barely looked up from the ping that lit up her phone screen.

"That's what happens when you stay with a failing company, Harry. You should have been paying more attention."

With that, she had left him to sit alone at the dining room table, his head in his hands as he tried not to let tears fall from his eyes. She always said he was too sensitive, crying would only serve to make her more annoyed with him.

Since then, he had all day long to shop around his resume online and through networking channels, only to field rejection emails by the end of the day. Minerva offered no support, only giving small hums or "I told you so" when she bothered to answer at all when he told her about his day over dinner. It broke his heart.

While their marriage hadn't been anything close to perfect for a very long time (Harry didn't think it really ever had been, the more he thought about it), this was the worst it'd ever been. Minerva was always the harder one out of the two of them, which worked for a long time. It was all about balance, Harry remembered thinking back when they first moved in together after getting engaged. He was the soft one that cried watching romantic movies, and she was the one that would scoff at the logistics and talk about how unrealistic the stories were. She preferred horror with unhappy endings.

It worked, until it didn't.

Something changed after those first months of living together. Since then, Harry had been trying to play catch-up to get on the same page as her, but she seemed to be chapters ahead by the time he was even going in the right direction. His degree was never good enough, his dreams of being a songwriter or music producer were too silly to even entertain, and his family didn't support them enough. By the time he realized Minerva didn't even like him much anymore, let alone love him, he was left with a broken heart.

But, even when he suggested counseling or even one of those couple's retreats that offered hands-on help, she shut him down immediately. That was all hippie shit he should have grown out of after they graduated college, she told him. It was her that brought up divorce, the word that had all but split Harry in half when it hung in the air between them, only for her to shut it down and tell him it wasn't an option as far as she was concerned—it would look bad for her to be a divorcee while she was still trying to climb the corporate ladder. Maybe after she made it to the executive level, she mused, if he still felt this way anyway.

Harry did the only thing he felt he could: pretend everything was normal. If he wanted any chance of not losing his mind, sinking into a depression that he feared he would be unable to climb out of, he had to fall into the motions of loving her. He woke her up with breakfast ready before they'd leave for work—before he lost his job, of course—, telling her goodbye with a kiss to the cheek and hollow declaration of love that he still felt hurt by every time he didn't hear her say it back. When he made it home before her, he'd clean up the house, sorting through bills and mail, and get dinner ready, giving himself just enough time to slip back into his steeled character by the time she came through the front door and ignored him.

But, Harry had always told himself it could be much worse—he was still lucky in some senses of the word, even if some nights he had to search hard for those moments—, and right he was about that. He was currently living through the worst it had ever been, moping around the house and feeling more down on himself than he knew was healthy for the fragile grip he had on his composure.

As anxiety inducing as it all was (was finding a job always this hard or was he really as unimpressive as Minerva said he was?), the free time did allow him to work on projects he'd pushed to the side in favor of his nine-to-five. The attic had been successfully cleaned out and reorganized for the first time since moving in, the walls in the basement finally painted the eggshell blue Minerva picked out years ago, and the garage was spic-and-span. The last couple of days, he'd dedicated his time to maintaining the garden out front as well as the backyard, something he'd found himself enjoying more than any of the previous items on the honey-do list he was working through. His mom had always loved gardening, so he felt a lot closer to home when he plodded through the soil with fresh sprouts.

After spending the first hour of the morning sending out his resume to a fleet of job postings and rifling through his email in hopes of getting anything back about a possible interview, he got changed for his day in the sun. He picked a white tank top with red stitching on the side declaring him as loved (though he didn't always feel that way) to adorn his torso with a pair of black shorts covering his thighs though his knee tattoos were left on display. Pulling his hair back with a tiny clip that left a sprout of hair fluffed on the top of his head, Harry slipped on a pair of large burgundy sunglasses before heading out the front door.

Headphones plugged in his ears, he grabbed his supplies he'd left on the porch, fitting his hands into the pair of sturdy gloves he'd dug out when he cleaned the garage. Along the porch railing was the row of flowers he planned on shoveling into the soil, their planters barely containing the rich blooms rooted inside. The furling petals brought a smile to his face as he got to his knees near the plot of yard that had previously been nothing other than mulch and dandelions. Maybe having a garden out front might sweeten Minerva's sour mood if he did it just right.

Tucking into the soil with the tools he had to reach out to his mom to verify were the right ones for the job, Harry started planting his rose garden. Green bushes with barely there blooms began to line the porch, making the tiny, white picket railing seem that might brighter against the rich hues of the buds. He was lost in his head, humming along to the music playing through his headphones as he built his garden, lavender and candy floss pinks joining his roses as the perfect growing companions.

He didn't know how long he'd been out under the sun until he heard the faint sound of a car running behind him, the thrumming earning a glance over his shoulder. For a split second, he'd worried it was Minerva, home early. He had a feeling she wouldn't be happy to see him tending to the garden, tending to something they could have just hired someone to take care of if he'd been smarter about his career path. Instead, it was the car of the not-so-new neighbor that had moved in next door less than a year ago.

A smile stretched across his face as he peered at her concentrated face through the tint of her window, a furrow to her brow as she navigated parking in the driveway. A breath of relief slumped her shoulders when she did so without incident; Harry understood, he'd seen her patching dings on her car too many times to count since she'd moved in. A clumsy driver, she was.

Harry plucked out his earbud as he sat back on his heels while she rifled through her car for a moment longer before stepping out onto the driveway. A bright smile covered her features as soon as she matched Harry's gaze, lifting his spirits higher than they'd been all day. A bubbly wave tinkled her fingers.

"Hi, Harry!" she chattered out, hiking her bag up her shoulder as she lingered on the concrete.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he reciprocated, his voice coming out a lot dreamier than he anticipated.

"Your garden looks really nice," she beamed at him, toeing the ground with her teeth sinking into the plush of her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" Harry asked, knowing his entire face lit up at the praise, "'M not done yet, but 'm really liking how it's turning out."

"I'm excited to see what it looks like when you have it all together, then," she offered, edging towards the open garage to head inside, "I'll see you around, Harry."

"Bye," he told her, his voice carrying along with her as she went out of view.

His gaze lingered in the spot he swore he saw a phantom of her form still. Even at the sound of the garage door closing signaling he was well and truly alone, Harry could still feel the effects of her presence, no matter how minute the interaction was. Plugging his headphone back in his ear, he went back to his work though he barely made note of anything he was doing.

He liked (Y/N). Probably more than he should.

She was just so sweet, enough so that her attention could make Harry blush. Even the first time they met, he remembered wishing he could have spent more time with her as she flitted about the neighborhood block party. She was a wonderful neighbor, always so considerate even though her roommate was very partial to a late night party now that they'd finally moved into an actual house after a spread of dodgy apartments through their college and some post-grad years (he'd overheard that during the block party). Minerva never seemed to like her much, though. She called her nosy, always talking to their neighbors, and attention-seeking with the way she supposedly paraded around the subdivision in her workout gear while taking her roommate's dog for a walk.

Harry couldn't disagree more when his wife went off on her dislike for their neighbor, but it was something he had to keep to himself. Minerva would have his head if he defended (Y/N) the way he wanted to—with more than a shrug and "she's not like that, honey". Besides, he worried that if he truthfully spoke about how good he felt she was, that his little crush on her would turn into something more troublesome. He already had too many things going on inside his house, he didn't need to add the guilt of something more than a small crush on a nice girl worming it's way into his head.

And, he cared for Minerva, still. Right? If he didn't, he would have insisted on getting a divorce and wouldn't worry so hard about what would make her happy with him. (Y/N) was a constant, happy presence in his life, even if their interactions were spread apart and only lasting some minutes here and there. Of course, he would get attached to the pretty girl who spared him attention and gave him praise without a second-thought. That didn't mean anything, though.

Even with the way his heart skipped a beat at the thought of his neighbor, Harry reminded himself of his reality. He was a married man, someone who cared for his wife and would continue to be a good husband to her until he signed his name on the dotted line. (Y/N) would always be nothing more than a nice friend. That's all.

—————

Harry sighed as he sank to his knees in his garden. Looking at all of his hardwork, he felt his heart break when he recalled Minerva's attitude the night before.

She hated it.

A waste of his time, she'd said. How was he supposed to find a respectable job when he was too busy with dirt up to his elbows doing a job fit for 'the help'? He had been floored when he heard her, but snapped his mouth shut as soon as she rolled her eyes and stomped upstairs, disregarding the dinner he had set out on the table.

Looking at the bushel of lavender that still needed to be planted as well as the border that needed to be filled with his candy floss pinks, Harry didn't feel the same joy he had the day before. He probably could be a lot more useful browsing the job sites, checking in on his network connections again. If he tried hard enough, dedicated himself enough, he would get a response, right?

His only saving grace was the music playing through his headphones, pushing him out of his head and into whatever the writer was urging him to feel with every beat and sprawled lyric. Music was everything to Harry. Way back when, he even had dreams of becoming a songwriter, or producing tracks and working in a studio—anything to put him in the industry. But that was years ago, before he was married and had to stop being so selfish with his dreams. Minerva wanted something better for him, so he had to let that go.

Concentrating on the notes that filtered through his headphones, Harry was finally pushed out of his head and back into the moment. He would finish the garden, then go inside and job hunt some more, he decided.

The sun was especially warm on his back today, soaking into the black fabric of his t-shirt (a bad choice in hindsight, he realized as soon as he checked the high temperature on his phone). Sweat dripped from his hairline as he dug into the soft soil lining his front porch, following the line of his nose before dropping into the dirt. If he was lucky, he would beat out a sunburn and leave with a tan coloring his skin, but the more he soaked in the heat, Harry didn't feel good about his chances.

By the time only a half of the candy floss had been planted along the border, the neckline of his top was drenched in sweat and Harry was running out of the motivation to finish his project. It wasn't until he felt a soft hand nudge at his shoulder did he look up from the flowers he was plotting in the ground. That definitely wasn't Minerva, he knew that much before looking over his shoulder. She never touched him that gently anymore.

Sitting back on his heels, pushing his sunglasses into the mass of hair on the top of his head, Harry turned onto only to see (Y/N) clad in her workout gear with her arms cradling snacks.

He was quick to pull his earbud from his ear, looking to her with a shaky smile he hoped didn't embarrass him any more than the sweaty state she'd caught him in. "H-Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hey," she greeted him with a bubbly smile, warmer than the heat clouding the air, "Looking really good, Harry."

His mouth went dry as he processed her words. "Wh-What?"

"Your garden," she clarified, nudging her chin in the direction behind him, "It's looking really good. Almost done?"

"Oh, yeah. Thank you," he blinked, rolling his lips between his teeth as he granted himself a reprieve of following her line of sight to his blooms. She made him so nervous it was hard to look at her. "Only a little more to go, so I should be finishing up today."

"You've been at it all morning, I'm surprised you haven't passed out with how hot it is," (Y/N) continued, huffing out a laugh through a soft smile, "I just came back from walking my roommate's dog and made some snacks and lemonade, so I thought I'd come over and share, if you wanted any?"

Dropping his gaze to her hands, he found a paper plate with a bagel covered in cream cheese, and a handful of dried cranberries. In the crook of her elbow, a small, chilled water bottle was cradled.

A smile crooked his lips as he gazed at her.

Cute.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he said, twisting in his spot so he could properly face her, "Y'didn't have to."

"It's alright," she beamed, offering him the refreshments with an outstretched hand, "I was already making my own, so I thought I'd make some for you, too."

It was simple, what she brought out for him, but even just a single sip of the sugary lemonade was enough to have Harry's heart bloating. He couldn't remember the last time someone thought about him so considerately.

"No, this is really kind of you, (Y/N)," he cemented, looking up at her from where he sat in his yard, trying his best to keep his gaze from going too soft, "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you, ever. You've been so nice to me ever since y'moved in, I want to pay y'back somehow."

"Harry, really, it's alri—"

"Humor me? Please?" She was giving him undeserved kindness, and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

The way her features softened as she looked down at him, hair messy on the top of her head and face glowing with the dew of a fresh workout, had Harry's heart clawing at his chest. She was looking at him like that. How lucky was he?

"Alright, I'll let you know, okay? I'm sure something will come up soon enough; I don't know if you've noticed with the amount of times I've accidentally backed into my garage door, but I'm not great about not breaking things. Be prepared with the amount of help I'll be needing now that you've offered, Harry." Faux seriousness covered her features as she pointed an accusing finger at him, thought her facade was cracking with the curl of her lips and the soft set of her eyes.

"I'll be ready, promise," he beamed up at her, pleased with the way she bit back her smile like she was afraid of how big it would grow if she didn't.

She lingered for a moment longer, her tender gaze dropping for her feet before she matched his gaze again. "I should probably get back to the dog—he doesn't like to be alone for long—, but, I'll come by if I need anything, Harry."

"O-okay," he breathed out, catching a flutter in his heart at the sound of his name wrapped in her voice, "I'll be here."

Her grin widened at his small joke as she edged back towards her home. With a little wave, she was on her way, Harry watching her the entire time.

When he saw her twist to look over her shoulder, he felt silly for a moment to have been caught staring, but then she spoke: "Tell Minerva I said hi, too, please! I haven't seen her in so long!"

It was the genuine smile on her face that had his heart dropping to his stomach. He kept quiet as he gave a confirming nod, waiting for her to disappear back inside her home before he dropped his gaze.

She was a sweet, sweet, sweet girl who wanted him to say hello to his wife for her—the same woman that would smear mud across (Y/N)'s name at any given chance. She saw the best in everyone, even people who didn't deserve that rose-tinted view. She was much too good for him, he knew that much. Much too good to have a married man become infatuated with the idea of her.

—————

Clicking out of his email, Harry ran a heavy hand through his hair.

Nothing. Not a single response to all of his cover letters, tailored resumes, and followups.

He knew in the grand scheme of things that four weeks really wasn't that long to be unemployed, but sitting in this house all day long, waiting for his wife to come home with whatever jeering remarks she stewed over all day, felt like years of torture. There wasn't anything else to fix up in the house that could distract him for hours on end; the gardens in both the front and back were planted and well maintained now, the garage still tidy, attic still clean and clear, and he'd even fixed that leaky faucet in the guest bathroom Minerva had been complaining about since they moved in. What else was there to do but marinate in his own short-comings and make himself go mad until it was time to make dinner?

Slumping into the couch cushions, Harry tried to distract himself by flicking on the television, hoping to find something to take his mind off of the replay of last night's silent dinner with Minerva. Sometimes he couldn't figure out what hurt more: her silence or her deprecating words that broke him down?

Just as he found a daytime soap he remembered his mother tuning into, a quiet knock rang at the front door. He didn't make a move to answer it, assuming it was some delivery service dropping off something Minerva had ordered or a door-to-door solicitor that would be smart to get out of this neighborhood before one of the more haughty neighbors reamed him for doing his job. But, when another round of the soft rapping came, he dared to peek his head through the gauzy curtains and glimpse at the visitor.

It was (Y/N).

From the limited view he had, he could see the way she was glancing back and forth from his front door and to her house, toeing anxiously at the ground with her phone clutched in her hand. Today was her day off, he remembered that (don't ask him how, he knew it wasn't something he needed to remember but he couldn't help his memory), only emphasized by the comfy shorts she had on her legs and the large t-shirt that was much too cold to be wearing so early in the morning without a sweater.

It was that one peek at her that had him rising from his spot on the couch and rushing towards the front door. By the time he twisted the locks and pulled the door open, (Y/N) was reluctantly stepping off the porch with her phone pressed to her ear. As soon as she saw Harry in the threshold, she ended her call with a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she breathed, hands falling to her sides, "I was so worried you were at work, or something."

"Is everything alright? Are y'okay?" He didn't even realize he was scanning over her form for injuries until he met her gaze from where it had drawn down to her feet.

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded, toeing at the ground as she glanced towards her house, "I just... You said you would be willing to help me if I needed anything, right?"

"Yes, of course," he affirmed, a furrow pinching at his brows.

"So," she started, looking guilty already, "I was about to go take a shower, but I think I broke it."

"Broke what?"

"The shower."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Its..." she started again, scrunching her nose as she tried to find the words, "I don't know, it's just not working and I don't know what happened."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, passing a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him, "I'll take a look and see if I can help."

"Thank you so much, Harry," (Y/N) babbled, relief touching at her features, "My roommate is going to kill me if I break one more thing in the house."

"Yeah?" he pressed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips with a dimple pressing into his cheek, "Have y'been breaking a lot of stuff then?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she started across the lawn with Harry following after. "I don't think so, but Mitch swears that I broke the panini press, the wifi-thing, the ice maker, and I somehow, apparently, fucked up the coffee table, or something. I think he's just dramatic and doesn't pay attention when he's using things, but whatever."

A smile bloomed across his features as he listened to her list off every appliance and piece of furniture that could be in a house. Now, including a shower (whatever that exactly meant) on that list.

Humming, he nodded his head, "Do y'think he breaks it and tries to blame it on you, or something?" Harry wouldn't like that. (Y/N) didn't deserve a roommate like that.

"No," she waved off, pushing open the unlocked front door before letting Harry in ahead of her, "he's not like that. I just think some of the things we have are old, so of course they stop working or break, and he knows he didn't do it so he thinks it's me. But, I think it's just the universe."

"I see," Harry smiled, stepping into her home.

While it was a shared space, he could still spot the (Y/N)-esque touches littered throughout the living room; a soft knitted blanket in creamy tones thrown across the back of the deep green couch, a bookcase spotted with novels he'd heard her reference to her friends in the neighborhood along with little crystals and delicate trinkets, and photos framed on the wall with her beaming smile lighting up the setting. Everything looked worn and loved, handed down from relatives or second-hand shops—nothing at all like the stiff decor and furniture that Minerva had picked out from a catalogue exactly as it was. It looked like a home.

"It's the upstairs bathroom, if you wanted to follow me," (Y/N) explained, stopping him from wandering out into the space to see what it would feel like to wrap himself in things that were (Y/N).

"Right, the shower," he murmured under his breath, trailing behind her, "What exactly happened?"

An exasperated shrug of (Y/N)'s shoulders was the view he was granted a couple of steps behind, "I don't know. I got all my stuff ready to take my shower, and I was waiting for the water to warm up and when I pulled the thing to make it come out of the shower head and not the faucet, it just... didn't work."

She took him to the bathroom in question, opening the door to the brightly lit and femininely decorated bathroom (her own personal one, he'd assume) with the remnants of steam still touching the top of the mirror.

"Watch this." She beckoned to him, settling on her knees on the tiled floor. Twisting the knob on the temperature control, water started streaming through the faucet and splashing across the tub. She paused for a moment as if to ensure Harry was properly watching before she reached across and pulled the pin at the top of the faucet, the same one that should redirect the water flow up to the shower head. The second it was pulled, there was a sputtering of water flowing for a moment longer before only a single bead fell from the shower head. The faucet stopped leaking, leaving the water to go down the drain before the shower was dry, none of the outlets dispensing.

"Huh," Harry breathed, gaze drifting back and forth between the faucet and the shower head as if either one would explode at a moment's notice with all the water pent up.

"Right?"

"It just started acting weird today?" he asked, reaching into the bathtub and pulling on the pin again. The same result: silence and dryness.

"Yeah, it was perfectly fine last night. And everything else like the sink, and the kitchen, and Mitch's bathroom are all working. It's just the shower."

Harry tested it out for a few minutes, (Y/N)'s eyes following him as he tinkered with the knob controlling the pressure and temperature, the pin, and the shower head itself. Nothing changed as he poked and prodded, a furrow pinching his brow.

"Do you know where your water heater is?" he asked, looking over his shoulder to her as he twisted the knob to off.

Pausing when he saw the way she was sat so prettily behind him, Harry suddenly felt flush under her attention. He had felt the warmth of her gaze the whole time as he worked and messed around with the appliance, but it was different seeing her with wide eyes looking up at him with her legs tucked carefully under her body. Even with her messy hair and ill-fitting clothes, Harry swore for a moment she was surrounded by starlight and puffs of cotton candy clouds—a dream on earth.

His heart skipped a beat with butterflies filling his tummy. Since when was he this far gone?

A loud thud sounded from the floors below, the only thing that shook Harry from whatever was running through his head that only jumbled the second he remembered this was (Y/N) who was gazing up at him like that.

"(Y/N)?" he stuttered over her name, his arms dropping limply at his sides.

The call of her name brought focus to her eyes. "Hm?" she hummed, with with a flutter of her lashes.

"D-Do you know where your water heater is?" he tried again, running a nervous finger under the tip of his nose.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," she breathed out on a laugh, rising to her shaky legs, "It's in the basement."

They were quiet as Harry followed her on an impromptu tour of the house, down the two floors to the chilled basement. It was when she reached the landing did she stop in her tracks with a gasp. It took him only a second to peer around her shoulder and find the cause of her widened eyes and fists clutched to her chest.

The concrete floor of the space was covered in a shallow pool of water. Some spaces the level was lower than others, but there was definitely enough water covering the floor to account for what hadn't been streaming through the shower upstairs.

"Shit," Harry whispered, spotting the pack of boxes pushed into the very corner of the basement, the bottom row slowly taking on water.

"Those are Mitch's things," she rushed out, following his line of sight, "I need to get them upstairs before anything gets messed up."

(Y/N) didn't falter after that, splashing through the water with her bare feet. Harry went to follow her, only to have to step out of the way as she was on her way back with a box stacked in her arms.

"D-Do y'want help?" The question felt a little dumb leaving Harry's mouth, but he didn't want to start rummaging around if she would prefer he stand back.

"Would you, please?" (Y/N) asked from halfway up the stairs, "Thank you so much, Harry."

Hearing that strain in her voice was all he needed before he was setting off to help her pick up the boxes, trudge through the water and up the steep stairs. By the time there was nothing more than the last few boxes, the bottoms all soaked in the leaked water, he was out of breath but (Y/N) looked a little less stressed. Only a little.

"Thanks," she panted out again once all of her roommates things were safely tucked away on dry land. Her eyes fluttered closed before she ran a heavy hand over her features, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. "I think Mitch is really going to kill me for this one. I don't even know what happened."

Hands on his hips, Harry remembered the shimmering lake that had taken over the level below. "I don't either, love, but you're going to need to call someone to fix it. 'M sure something is blocked."

"Probably," she sighed, eyes focusing on a random spot by her feet as she pinched at her lips, "H-How do I get the water out of the basement, though?"

"Jus' gonna have to mop it up, and use some towels, I think. 'S not a lot, so it shouldn't be too bad."

"Yeah," she breathed out again, focus coming back to her gaze as it flitted up to return Harry's. "I'm so sorry to ask, but would you be able to help? Even just for a lit—"

"Yeah, of course I can help." A heat touched at his cheeks as he realized just how eagerly he had offered up his help. But, with the way (Y/N) lit up at his agreement to help, he didn't really mind how silly he sounded.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much, Harry," she beamed at him, already seeming to have more life in her as she toed towards the stairs leading her up a level, "I'll go grab some towels, but the mop is in the kitchen, over there, if you can get that. I'll be right back. Thank you so much!"

It was with a scuttle of her feet and a twist of her hair fluttering behind her that she disappeared up the staircase. Harry's gaze followed after her for a moment longer, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt a smile coming on.

—————

"Did you always want to do accounting?"

(Y/N)'s question echoed in the empty basement, sounding over the slopping sound of the mop in Harry's hands sopping up the water that didn't seem to have an end. He shrugged, having expected this question when they started talking about their career-paths (apparently, (Y/N) wanted to be a writer, but she was currently working retail so she could pay the bills in the meantime).

"Not really," he answered honestly, wringing out the mop into the accompanying bucket that was just under half full at this point, "I actually wanted to get into music, but this seemed more practical."

"Music?" (Y/N) perked up, wringing out a soaked towel before opting for the slightly drier ones as she worked on her hands and knees, "Like as a singer?"

A smile plucked at Harry's features at the enthusiasm in her voice. He couldn't remember the last time someone sounded genuinely excited at the idea of learning more about him.

"Maybe if I felt right, but mostly songwriting and producing. I liked the idea of being in one of those big studios, you know?" The images he'd had of his life when he was young flashed through his head. His heart almost broke at how easily it was to conjure up those pictures despite how long it'd been since he allowed himself to indulge in those what-ifs.

"Did you write a lot of songs then? Anything I might have heard?" (Y/N) wasn't even working anymore, that much Harry could tell when he peeked at her through his lashes. She was sitting back on her heels listening to him, attention rapt and unwavering.

"No, I never really made music. Everything I've ever written is packed away in some journal in m'attic. I haven't seen it since university, I think." That was a little bit of a lie, if he was being honest. He'd seen it when he was reorganizing the attic space and moving things around. He just didn't have the guts to open it.

He could hear the pout in her voice as she humphed. "That's a bummer. I would have loved to read what you wanted to put to music," she mused, "If you ever find it, would you let me read some of it?"

Against his will, a memory of him shoving his book into Minerva's hands, asking her to read his latest work—one that was inspired by her—before she refused, not wanting to read any of what his silly hobby spawned. It was a waste, she had told him in her own way; music wasn't a stable job and he needed to wake up before it was too late and he'd sung them into living in a cardboard box.

Harry made quick work of shoving that thought to the side, inserting himself into the moment with (Y/N) once more. It was the glimmer in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the fact she asked to read his art that had him answering in a heartbeat. "Of course. You'll be the first person I call."

The creases that lined her face as her smile grew was enough to wipe those awful moments with Minerva away like the water he was sopping off the floor. Speaking around her smile, she dropped her gaze to the towel in her hands, "So—um—if you wanted to be a songwriter, why did you end up going into accounting? That's a huge field change."

"Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his bottom lip for a moment of comfort, "Um, she—sorry, Minerva, she thought it would be a better idea to go into something like finance. More stable and real than music."

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, voice neutral though he could see her features scrunch up some, "I can see that a little, I guess. Did she ever help you write or anything like that?"

"Not really. It wasn't something she thought was..." Harry floundered as he remembered all the things she called his songwriting (not worth her time, stupid, an excuse to not find a real job, ect.). Those probably weren't the kind of things to dump on his neighbor. "It was jus' hard for her to get into it the way I did. I usually did all of it alone."

"Well," she started, a slight pinch lingering in her brows as she crawled to the next section of floor, "I'm sure if she could have helped, she would have."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

"Yeah, but what about you, hm?" he switched, wringing out the mop once more, "What kind best-seller are y'drafting?"

It seemed that was the perfect question to ask her as she shot into an explantation of the creative writing class she had taken in college and the idea of a narrative that never quite left her (of course only after she rolled her eyes at his best-seller comment. I haven't even finished a single chapter, Harry, she told him though the smile she was biting back still bled into her features). He was wrapped up solidly in the world she was painting for him, even when she shyly brought up the romantic aspects as she was most excited about adding.

Despite the water seeping through his Vans and chilling him from his toes up, Harry swore he could have stayed in that basement all day long hearing her talk about the things she loved.

What a privilege that would be.

—————

Minerva didn't even bother to wake Harry up before she was off to work this morning, only leaving a note tacked to the fridge about the shopping that needed to be done today and that she would be home late due to after-work drinks with some of her colleagues. He wasn't all that surprised at that. She seemed to prefer to spend any time she could away from him, no matter where it was.

At least, he had a task that would take up some of the morning and direct his mind off of the sourness that was filling his lungs every time he thought about Minerva.

Taking his time to clean up after the breakfast his wife made for herself before her day at work, Harry didn't leave for grocery shopping until late in the morning. Armed with Minerva's list as well as the mental one he'd developed after spending so much time at home and in charge of meals, he plucked a trolley and started off through the shelves.

The store was luckily fairly empty given the time of day he was waltzing through the aisles, and Harry couldn't be more grateful for the chance to move at his own pace. He was feeling particularly slothly today, sluggish limbs and tired eyes, so at least he wasn't being pushed around and feeling rushed to get out of there as soon as he could. He marked off every item he grabbed from the shelves as he went, putting together a menu for the rest of the week.

It wasn't until he was armed with the ingredients to Minerva's favorite pad Thai recipe—one she probably wasn't even going to eat, he pessimistically decided—that he ran into another's cart.

"Oh gosh—"

"I'm sorry—"

The second he saw who he had accidentally bumped into, every bit of exhaustion evaporated from his limbs.

(Y/N)'s expression cleared up just the same, the apology on her lips falling away in favor of wrapping her voice around his name. "Hi," she greeted him, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he told her, sounding much too chipper for an apology, "Wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's alright, I'm happy it was you," she cemented, parking her cart on the other side of the aisle from him, settling in, "How are you?"

"'M good, thank you," he smiled, "How's your shower and everything? Did that guy end up making it out there?"

"Yeah, he came a little after you left," she sighed, shaking her head as if recalling the memory made her just as exasperated as she was in real time, "It was so stupid. I don't even know what it was that was blocking my shower, but something was blocking that specific channel so every time I turned it on and tried to get water to come out, I was breaking something else and flooding the basement. I feel like he was being a jerk, but Mitch says that I was probably just in a bad mood."

Harry shrugged, biting back a smile though he was sure his dimple still poked through. Maybe she was in a bad mood—he wouldn't blame her—, but she hadn't been in one by the time he left. If he really let his heart run away from him, he'd let himself imagine he had been the one to keep her happy.

"At least he got it fixed, right?" he tried, leaning his forearms into the seat of the trolley, chin resting on his fist.

"Yeah," she smiled, apparently forgetting the supposed attitude she was given, "I got to wash my hair afterwards, so that was nice." He watched as her gaze dropped to the contents of his cart, eyes lighting up when she caught sight of something to pique her interest. "Where did you find that pizza dough? Mitch and I keep ordering out for pizza so I was trying to get stuff to make it ourselves instead."

An apologetic smile curled his lips before she even finished speaking. "It's over by the cheese counter, but I did grab the last couple. 'M sorry, (Y/N)."

The second he watched her deflate, the makings of a pout itching at her lips, Harry couldn't help himself. He just wanted to see her smile again.

"I was planning on using them for lunch today, but, if y'want, y'can come over and-and try it with me? I haven't tried this one before either, so if y'like it, y'can take some home."

He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat as he allowed his mouth to run ahead of him.

(Y/N) hesitated from where she stood in front of him, the blunt edges of her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. With a flutter of her lashes, she returned his gaze. "Are you sure? I can just get some next time, it's alright."

Swallowing, he saw the way out she was giving him, but he found himself wanting to stay just where he'd put himself.

"'M sure," he cemented, surprised by how lightweight the words felt, "I was going to eat by myself anyway, so at least we could talk a little."

A beat passed before she offered him a sweet smile and a nod of her head. "Alright. I still have some more shopping to do, but when I'm home, I could come by? As long as you're alright with waiting for me."

Harry didn't need to think before he was nodding his head.

Of course he would wait for her.

—————

Was this cheating?

Harry's chest constricted at the thought.

He wasn't a cheater, was he?

All he'd done was invite a friend over for lunch and to talk, just as they'd done before. He'd ran into her at the supermarket and asked if she wanted to share some of the food he was planning on making anyway, especially as she was only a door down. That's not cheating, right?

No, he told himself. They hadn't even touched outside of passing each other when they were lugging up her roommate's belongings upstairs, let alone kiss or go further. And nothing they'd talked about had verged into romantic territory, not even for a second. He talked to her like he would talk to a friend. He'd had female friends before—before Minerva, of course—and this was how he would treat any of them. He would even argue he's held her at a larger distance away, especially since he was married.

Just because he thought his friend was pretty, didn't mean he was cheating.

Minerva even knew about he extra time here and there he was spending with (Y/N), though she definitely scoffed and made faces whenever he spoke her name. If he was doing something wrong, he wouldn't have told Minerva anything, right?

Harry couldn't calm his spinning mind as he put away his groceries, spiraling out of control as he contemplated turning (Y/N) away when she came to the door—with all the ingredients for a pizza to make at her own home. But, as much as he was worried about the blurry line he was approaching, he didn't want to say no to her and make her leave. He didn't want the sunshine that was leaking into his life courtesy of his neighbor to become shrouded by clouds once again.

It was an innocent friendship, and if Harry couldn't handle himself, he would stop it. He vowed to himself that if he came to a point where he was worried he wouldn't be able to not cross into the shades of grey safely, then he would end it. Because he was someone's husband before he was someone's friend.

It wasn't until he heard a knock on the front door that Harry's frantic hands came to a sputtering halt. Bracing his hands on the edge of the counter where he stood in front of the ingredients for his pizza project, he took a steadying breath. He centered himself for one more moment before going to the door to let his friend in.

(Y/N) greeted him with a bright smile when he swung the door open. "Hi, stranger," she bubbled, hands folded in front of her dressed in the same comfy set he'd found her in at the grocery.

"Hi," he greeted her, feeling the stretch of his grin as he took her in.

Even as he widened the berth of the door, clearing way for her to pass through, (Y/N) nervously toed the porch, eyes giving way to a tinge of anxiety he'd never seen there before. A pinch drew his brows together as he watched her.

"You're still hungry, right?" he prodded, giving her an out if she decided she would rather be at home.

His question seemed to shake her from wherever she had crawled to in her head. "Y-Yeah, sorry," she brushed off with a smile, stepping over the threshold and into his home, "I just realized I've never been inside your house before."

"That's right, huh," he said, smile going lopsided with only a single dimple in his cheek, "Busy couple of weeks for us, then, right? Packing a whole lot of basic friendship things into a few days."

Harry knew he uttered the word friendship for his benefit only, feeling stiff as it passed his lips. Because this was what this all was. Friends went to each other's houses, and got to know each other through quality time. Nothing nefarious or wrong about that.

"We've been neighbors for almost a year, and I think I just learned your last name," (Y/N) laughed, waiting for him as he locked the front door before starting off towards the kitchen with her behind him.

"That's what happens when y'wait to break your shower so y'can invite me over," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder with a smug smile on his lips.

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes, and shook her head as they entered the kitchen. Harry's set up was just as he'd left it: dough rolled out and floured, his favorite pizza sauce set off to the side with every fix-in delegated to different bowls and packages for easing picking. She followed after him with a light to her eyes, taking in the station he'd set up for them.

"I didn't know what y'might want to put on it, so I jus' got everything out," he explained, starting to feel a little sheepish over the amount of effort he put into his friend's meal.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him, standing in front of one of the two slabs of rolled out dough, "This is perfect. You're so nice."

He had to pretend that his heart didn't flutter some at the gentle compliment she gave him.

Smiling down at his hands, Harry turned towards the sink to wash up before starting to assemble the food so she didn't see the flush he was sure was pricking the tip of his nose.

Once she'd followed the same procedure before returning to her station, Harry finally chanced a look at her where she stood with expecting eyes. Yeah, she was still pretty.

"Ready?" he murmured, swallowing around the word.

"Ready."

—————

"So, you didn't even actually work in the bakery? You did that on purpose, didn't you? So I would be lulled into a sense of trust even though you were only winging it on the bake time for the pizza."

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he listened to (Y/N)'s very true accusations. There had been something of a squabble over the bake time and temperature, as (Y/N) had supposedly googled the best combination of how long to let them sit under the heat and just how high the dial needed to be twisted while Harry swore by his own method. A wicked smile had curled his lips when he brought out the best end to the argument: his so-called experience.

"You're the worst," she challenged, shaking her head when she saw the quirking of his lips, "You just didn't want me to be right."

"They turned out jus' fine, didn't they?" Harry countered, jutting his chin out in playful defiance.

(Y/N) muttered out a muted whatever, though the flutter of her lashes and sparkle in her eyes didn't diminish to go along with her faux-attitude.

A warm silence settled within the dining room as they each took bites of their food, Harry unable to stop himself from looking at her through his lashes. He swore he even caught her drawing her eyes away at the last second during one of his peeks.

"I hope this doesn't come out wrong," (Y/N) broke the silence, wiping her mouth of the pizza sauce that had collected on the corner, "but, I'm kind of happy you're not working right now. We've actually gotten to get to know each other now that you've been home."

Looking at her, moony eyes with fluttery lashes and dewy skin glimmering in the sunlight leaking through the windows, Harry wanted to kiss her. That scared him.

While it might not have been the first time he thought about what it would be like to kiss (Y/N), it had previously always been in the abstract, someone in his place before the fleeting thought was out of his head in a blink. But, this time... this time was it's own beast that has Harry's heart rattling against his ribcage like a criminal in a jail cell.

This time, he had a solid vision of himself, reaching across the dining table he had dinner with his wife at, fitting his hand around the back of (Y/N)'s neck—wedding band and all—before slotting his lips against hers. She was happy she'd had a chance to get to know him, and that was something he hadn't realized he'd ever wanted to hear.

And, that scared him. This was cheating, wasn't it? Married men don't think about kissing other women like that. They don't look across the table and try to pick out the glimmers in their neighbor's eyes, or wonder how soft her lips would be, or wish they could tuck their face into her neck and see if she really smelled like strawberry poundcake like the lotion on her bathroom counter suggested. Married men shouldn't do that.

Harry swallowed thickly, dropping his gaze to his unfinished slice of misshapen pizza.

"Is everything okay?" (Y/N) broached, speaking to him as if he were an injured animal, "I didn't mean to make you upset about work. I shouldn't have said it lik—"

"No, no," Harry shook his head, a stray curl landing across his forehead, "'S not that, don't worry. I know what y'were trying to say."

"Okay," (Y/N) sounded, the syllables coming out quietly as she placed her pizza down, "Is something else wrong then?"

How was he supposed to explain to her that he crossed into territory that was too blurry to be safe for him—the one with the wedding band on his finger? She had no idea of what was running through his head as she spoke, the way his heart skipped a beat when she gave him attention he hadn't even known he'd been craving since she approached him in the garden weeks ago. At this pace, he was ruining two relationships at once: his marriage to Minerva and his friendship with (Y/N).

"(Y/N), I..." he started, unable to think clearly with the way his heart crawled up into his throat. Was there an eloquent way to tell someone you can't see them anymore because you fear you might cheat on your spouse if you became any closer? Was there ever a good time to confess to having feelings for another woman while also cutting them off?

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured, "you're worrying me. Can you at least tell me if you're alright?"

"I d-don't know, (Y/N)," he sighed, dropping his head into his hands that were propped up on elbows pinned to the table, "I don't—It might—... I think I might need to take a step back from you."

Silence fell over the room once more, this time lacking the warmth that it had been filled with less than ten minutes prior.

"I... don't think I understand," she responded, sounding stiff.

Harry shook his head in his hands, his hair fluffing around his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other anymore, es-especially alone like this."

Heat crawled up his features, starting at the base of his neck as he choked out the words. He couldn't even look at her, but he could fantasize about cheating on his wife with her?

"Um, okay," (Y/N) said after a beat, words stilted, "I understand. May I ask why, though? Because if it was something I did, I want to apologize at least."

He shook his head as she spoke. None of this was her fault. Never was an apology from her lips needed over this situation. He dared to peek up at her through the cage of his fingers, finding her with her gaze downcast and shoulders deflated.

His tongue felt thick as he tried to speak around it, dry throat not helping any. He floundered over the honesty he knew he owed her. "It's jus'... 'M married and all, you know?"

The pieces seemingly clicked together for (Y/N) without any extra explanation. She gave a slow nod of her head. "Right. I'm sorry if I crossed any boundaries, or anything. I didn't mean to."

Before he could offer any consolation, tell her that the fault was all his own and she'd been nothing more than the sunshine he'd been aching for since he found himself on a clouded shore, but she was quick to pushed away from the dining table. She offered a polite thank you for lunch, before she was out of the house in record time; the sound of the door shutting behind her lingered longer than she did.

Scrunching his eyes tightly, Harry couldn't help but dig the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of his eyelids. "Fuck," he whispered to himself in the empty house. In a burst of frustration at the feeling of tears filling his eyes as if he had earned the right to be upset over the entire situation, he slammed his fists onto the table. The china rattled on the surface, only joining in with the ruckus of the loud Fuck! he screamed into the void of his home.

Slumping back into his chair, Harry stared up at the ceiling for who knows how long until he felt a nerve in the muscles pinch over the position. A labored breath was all he managed to pull into his lungs as he looked over the state of his home.

He needed to clean up before Minerva came home.

—————

Harry pushed the pad Thai around in his bowl, chopsticks making a dull scraping sound against the porcelain. Minerva—surprisingly home for dinner, which he hadn't been anticipating—had her eyes glued to her phone with a curl to her lips. The house was filled with silence just the way it had been for the last week and a half since Harry brought on his own heartache.

Since (Y/N) walked out, Harry hadn't been able to get her off his mind.

Nothing had been the same since the sound of the door slamming after her reverberated through the house. He swore that a part of his heart walked right out after her, trailing behind the home it had been trying to make in the warmth of her. He lied awake that night, wallowing in the mistake he'd made on two women in his life he was supposed to care about and protect. He'd failed on both fronts.

But, even after he cut himself off from the wallowing—he determined he didn't deserve more than a couple of days since this was all his doing—he found an ache lingering in his bones and a fog clouding his brain. He didn't want to eat, barely made sure he drank some water each day, and wanted nothing more than to hole himself up in the master bedroom though he never managed to actually sleep. If he wasn't distracted enough, his mind would wander too far away, waking up things he'd rather stay asleep.

He could only recall feeling like this once before: when Minerva had changed, making it very clear she was no longer invested in him or their relationship.

He was broken-hearted. Over losing (Y/N).

Maybe he had more than a silly crush on her like he had thought. He found himself wondering in the aftermath if she was alright. Was she blaming herself? Was she keeping busy with her roommate? Was she taking care of herself? It only worried him when he saw her roommate walking the dog around the neighborhood, something that seemed to be (Y/N) job exclusively before this. When he told Minerva that (Y/N) wouldn't be hanging around much anymore, he remembered how angry he became when she laughed, the noise cruel, and said something about how it was about time she'd run off.

How dare she? he recalled thinking. (Y/N) had never once said a single bad word about her, and yet Minerva couldn't even spare a question on why she wouldn't be over anymore or if something had happened. He'd shared the fact he'd made a real friend for the first time in years, and she didn't bother to ask what would be the cause of the separation, even going so far as to rub it in his face with an I-told-you-so-esque comment? Who was this person he had married?

But, in the end, (Y/N) sat at the forefront of his mind, stealing any selfish thought and reminding him of the real innocent in this situation. She deserved better.

His feelings for her had been a lot more real than he even realized. If he had known, he liked to think things would have turned out differently for them.

Holding back a sigh, Harry pinched a bean sprout between his chopsticks as he slumped over the table with his chin in his hands.

"I heard back from that auto-body place I told you about," Harry offered, filling the silence with his raw voice. Minerva didn't even look up.

"Hm?"

"That job I applied for—bookkeeping at that auto-body place just out of town. They emailed me back; I have a phone interview with them tomorrow," he shared, hoping the good news would at least make her happy. Maybe, that would be enough to get him out of his head, the static of the house surely not helping him feel normal.

"Oh," Minerva sounded, a sour expression pinching her features, "You actually applied there? I thought I told you it sounded gross."

Rolling his neck, he swallowed. "I know, but work is work and that's what I need right now. I can keep looking even if they hire me, I jus' need something right now."

A roll of her hazel eyes was granted in response to his words. "It's like you don't even listen to me. Sure, you're unemployed, but do you not think it would look worse for you to work at some greasy mechanic? Harry, it's gross, and you would know that if you ever actually listened to me."

Her biting words touched a nerve Harry didn't even know had been exposed.

"I listen to you all the time, Minerva," he grumbled, voice low and controlled. His heart pounded in his ears, the sound rising from his chest.

She scoffed at his retort, her phone finally dropping from her hand as she sat up straight in her seat. "Excuse me?"

"I said," he breathed, tempering himself before he raised his voice, "I always listen to you. Jus' like how I listened to you when y'said I wasn't trying hard enough and thinking too much of myself and not applying to jobs on my level. So, I broadened my search—like you asked—and found this place that would pay nicely and might appreciate what I could bring."

"Oh, now you're just blaming me, like it's my fault you couldn't find anything other than some slum to hire you. Stop being a dick, and just listen to wh—"

"I am listening! I have listened for the last seven years! And, I don't want to listen anymore, Minerva!"

It was like the universe knew about the changing tide, a sudden clash of thunder echoing outside that ramped up the storm that had been brewing in the clouds. The second the sky settled, Harry realized the tone and volume of his words and the fact Minerva hadn't said a single thing back, already feeling guilt in his system.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you, 'm sorry, M—"

"This is about her, isn't it?

Harry was taken aback at the accusing tone of voice she used on him. Flicking his gaze between her eyes, he found the anger that had been brewing in her silence. She hadn't been scared or upset that he'd raised his voice—no, she was trying to find the best way to one-up him.

"Who?"

"The fucking neighbor you're so obsessed with. This is about her, isn't it? She's been telling you I'm the bad guy for wanting you to get a good job, is that it?"

Stinging offense touched at Harry's chest. "This has nothing to do with (Y/N), leave her out of this, Minerva. She's never said a bad thing about you, you know that? When all you do is shit on her for no other reason than the fact she exists."

"I have reason, Harry," she spat, leaning over the table as he voice grew, "Like the fact that my husband eye-fucks her every time she's around! Did you really think I didn't fucking notice?!"

"'S not like that, Minerva, and you know it." Harry slid his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. "Why would you even care, anyway? 'S not like you even like me anymore."

"Because you're my husband. You are mine, until I decide otherwise. Then you can sleep around with every girl you see—but until then, you have to listen to me."

Harry didn't even realize a sheen had collected over his eyes, tears in his waterline as he just realized just how trapped he was in that moment, not until Minerva pointed it out to him.

"Are you really about to cry, right now?"

"I know you're cheating on me."

The words slipped past his lips before he even realized they were on the tip of his tongue. He'd barely let himself think about what Minerva was really up to those nights she was getting drinks, or staying late to finish a project, let alone speak them aloud. But now, there they were. In the static silence of the dining room, he was tired of pretending and listening and hoping.

Minerva seemed to be floored for a second, floundering over her words. "Don't try to turn this on me, Harry—"

"I do your laundry, you know" he sighed, exhausted now that the biggest weight had left his chest, "I've seen what you wear those nights you're supposedly at the office until one in the morning."

"Oh, so now I can't wear sexy underwear without your permission—"

"And, remember when you insisted I share my location with you? Even went through my phone and did it all when I was in the bathroom." Harry swallowed at the memory, but he felt numb to the panic that began to rise in Minerva's eyes. "But, I can see your location, too. I know you're not at the office or whatever bar you pretend to get drinks at when you don't come home."

She was stock still for a moment before Minerva crossed her arms heavily over her chest, slumping back into her chair. "Okay, and?" she spat, rolling her eyes as if this were another petty argument, "It's not like we haven't been over for years—sorry I wanted to feel loved for once."

Harry didn't even pay her jabs any mind. None of this mattered anymore to his battered heart.

"I want a divorce."

"Harry, we've talked about this. It's no—"

"I don't care about your job. I want a divorce."

Venom filled her eyes as she locked her gaze on him.

"You only want this now that you have your little whore next door, isn't it? Yo—"

"Minerva, please," he heaved, exasperated as his hands fell limp into his lap his neck rolling back to pin his gaze to the ceiling, "Why can't we just be happy? That's all I want. We get a divorce, and you can feel loved by whoever you want and I can get the fuck out of this house."

Harry didn't look at her even as he heard the sound of her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "Fucking fine, Harry," she spat his name out like bile, "Get the papers and I'll sign them—no contest, or whatever makes this fastest. But if you want to get out of this fucking house so bad, you can start tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep, asshole."

With that, his soon-to-be ex-wife stomped upstairs, slamming the master bedroom door hard enough he was sure that his wedding photos would have fallen from the walls had this been a movie. The sickly silent house was filled with the sound of the pelting rain from outside, the interior lit up by lightning strikes and shook by the pounds of thunder.

He needed to get out of here.

It was as if he was on autopilot as he moved through the kitchen and out the front door with nothing more than his phone and keys. He didn't even realize where he was going until he was dripping wet with rain soaking him to the bone on (Y/N)'s door step.

He must have missed knocking on her door because he was surprised when he saw the door open wide with (Y/N) standing in her pajamas, concerned etched all over her face with his name forming on her lips.

"I'm getting a divorce."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as he cut her off, taking in the rain-sodden man. The water dripping from his hair onto the stained wood of her porch mimicked the watery gaze he stared at her with.

"Harry, you didn't because of m—"

"No, no," he swallowed, his mouth working faster than his brain, "No, it's not-not because of you. I should have done this a long time ago, I just let her decide everything for me even if I hated it. You-You made me re-real again. I couldn't stay with her knowing I could be happy again somewhere—somewhere that wasn't with her."

He watched through bleary eyes as her shoulders raised with a deep breath before she reached out to him.

"Come inside, you're going to get sick," she murmured, a sad smile on her features that shouldn't have tugged at his heartstrings.

Taking wooden steps, the cold finally registering on his skin now that the option of warmth was presented in her home as he crossed the threshold. Water dripped onto the hardwood that was identical to what was next door, but felt completely different in a space that actually knew happiness. A man was sat on the couch, long dark hair falling over his shoulder with a pinched mouth and wide eyes taking in the new visitor.

"Harry," (Y/N) said, stepping around him once the door was locked and closed, "this is my roommate, Mitch. Mitch, this is Harry... our neighbor."

Mitch nodded his head, rolling his lips between his teeth before he straightened up from his slumped position. "Nice to meet you," he smiled politely before his eyes slid to (Y/N), "I'm gonna go to my room, so if you need anything, just let me know."

Harry stood with his arms crossed over his chest as they stood, seemingly waiting for the click of Mitch's bedroom door before (Y/N) unfroze. "Um," she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she met Harry's gaze, "I'm gonna go grab you some clothes to wear while we wash your stuff. Just... wait right here, but I'll be right back."

(Y/N) lingered for a moment longer, placing a gentle hand on his arm to go along with her softened features before she was padding up the stairs. It could have been two minutes or two years that it took (Y/N) to return from her search, but Harry had no idea about the difference. He only took note of her soft hands urging him towards the bathroom, a set of oversized clothing tucked into his arms she told him was her brother's. He wouldn't mind if Harry borrowed them, she assured him.

Maybe it was the cold or the shock that lingered in his system that kept his joints stiff as he dressed. Once his wet clothes were nothing more than a puddle on the titled floor, heavy and thick with the new set cozied to his form, a hair too big, Harry stopped. With his hands braced on the lip of the counter, he spared himself a glance in the mirror.

Bloodshot, glistening eyes. Wet, dark hair that lost its curl to the weight of the water. Ruddy cheeks. Swollen lips. He looked a mess.

But, Harry couldn't remember himself ever looking so relieved.

He carefully gathered his clothes into his arms, ensuring he didn't dampen his borrowed clothing as he exited the bathroom. (Y/N) was there in an instant, having been waiting just outside the door with a softened smile on her features as she offered to take his clothes, already grabbing for them before he'd even relinquished them.

It wasn't until she returned from the laundry room, telling him something about the detergent, that Harry realized he was crying. Only because (Y/N) had pointed it out with a short gasp, hands instinctively reaching for him before she bundled them together at her chest.

"Oh, Harry," she cooed, "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you're going through—"

"C-Can I hug you?"

(Y/N) didn't even hesitate before she was gathering him into her arms, Harry's head dropping to her neck with his body pressed flush against hers for no other reason than he hadn't been hugged like this in years. His breathing came in pants against her neck, fanning across her skin while his tears dripped over the curve. (Y/N) settled him as best she could, running a gentle hand over his back while the other swirled through his curls as best she could with their dampened state.

"'M so relieved," Harry whispered to her when he found his voice, "'M so relieved. Thank you."

Harry didn't know what he was thanking her for, and he was sure (Y/N) didn't either, but that didn't stop her from holding him tighter.

—————

"Bye, Harry!"

The delighted shouts that were called through the parking lot at the end of his work day brought a smile to Harry's face. He twisted on his heels, walking backwards for a moment as he waved for all the guys at the mechanic's yard to see.

"See you all on Monday!"

Harry couldn't remember ever loving his job the way he loved this one.

The mechanic was full of some of the nicest people he'd ever met in his life; some grumpy and a bit rambunctious—something he was sure they played up around their quiet accountant, as they called him—but none of them were anything less than welcoming since the day he was brought onto the team. He was excited on the days he worked in office solely because he got to see his friends. There were even nights they went out for drinks or went to a local venue to watch live music, something to relax into the weekend they always told him, and Harry was invited each time. How he worked in an office for almost ten years when this was out there waiting for him, he'd never understand.

But, Harry didn't like to think about the before years. Thinking about all he missed out on wasn't going to bring back the wasted time, that's what his therapist had told him.

It had only taken one night at (Y/N)'s and another week and a half at a hotel before Harry had another place lined up—how he was able to manage that, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to say no. It took him one weekend to get his things out of Minerva's house, have her sign the divorce papers he filed the days before, and it was over. His wasted time was up.

As difficult as Minerva liked to be, when she was done with something, she wiped her hands clean. Just as she did with Harry. She was quick to come to agreements about their assets and belongings, staying true to her word about wanting to take whatever route would be the fastest out of the marriage.

He didn't mind that she got the house and a sizable chunk of their savings. He could get all of that back, and nothing could compare to the relief and freedom he felt now that he was out of that oppressive house.

Plus, it was cheaper to go grocery shopping for one.

(Y/N) had been so encouraging through the first few weeks that Harry was trying to make sense of the new world he had called upon for himself. Never interfering or pushing him to do anything he didn't want to. Everything she told him was about his happiness—putting his happiness first. It was her idea that he reach out to someone to talk to about what happened during his marriage, and how to navigate making his own choices without heavy amounts of doubt pushing him back.

He hadn't seen her much since the night he crashed at her place, knowing that he needed to spend some time with himself, clear headed and heart in his own hands, before he could be in her distracting presence again. He needed to be the best version of himself first before he could be anyone else's. But, she never backed away from him, always there when he needed her, even if just to talk to someone.

Harry didn't worry about the dirt on his feet as he opened up the door to his apartment, only shucking off his shoes messily by the threshold. He'd get to them later.

It'd been three months since he moved in, so the place was a little sparse, but it was perfect in Harry's eyes. He'd never lived by himself before. Everywhere he looked, it was him—his things, his family photos, his memories. He loved his little apartment, no matter if it was a downgrade from a two-story, three bedroom house. This was his first home.

His clothes were left in the hamper as he changed into a comfy set of clothing. He could do laundry tomorrow, no worries, he reminded himself. He had more important things to do.

Reaching under his bed, Harry grabbed the final unpacked box he had taken from the attic of the old house. Nothing more was written on the cardboard than Harry's Stuff in Minerva's handwriting. Flipping open the top, he found his university gear (really just a pair of sweatpants he swore got him through exams seasons without any complete failures), a set of messily colored pictures gifted to him from when his niece was only a baby, random items from his childhood, and a leather bound journal.

The journal was wrapped tightly closed with a matching length of string. The cover was doodled upon with stars and quotes, Harry's name scrawled across the front of the book. It mimicked him, he realized; covered in sketchbook like drawings, but it was all him.

Inside, he knew there were songs from years ago he probably didn't even remember writing. A smile touched at his features as he untied the string holding the journal together.

But, before he could flip through the pages again, he knew he had to make a call.

With his phone to his ear, the ringing echoed in his ears until he heard the telltale click.

"Harry!" (Y/N) happily chirped on the other side, "How are you?

Hearing her voice, he swore it was easier to breathe. "Hi, 'm doing good," he greeted her, voice dreamy and mellow, "Are y'doing anything tonight?"

A beat passed before she spoke again, the smile he could hear in her voice easy to imagine. "I don't think so, why?"

He promised (Y/N) she would be the first he called when he found his music again.

"I want to show y'something."

He was happy to wait for her.

—————

this is....very different for me ngl HUSHFUSHF I had a very different direction I was thinking about when I started this and then completely went off the rails and turned into something sadder than anything else ive written so...thanks for sticking through it I guess shfushfush thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes (and the fact they don't even kiss ???)! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in!

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silverbyeol · 10 months

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Basic Training Masterlist (Peter Parker x Reader)

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, kidnapping, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, housewife kink, cop!Peter

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silverbyeol · 1 year

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The actual reason why I don’t eat apples

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silverbyeol · 1 year

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masterlist for all my imagines!!

masterlist for all imagines!!

masterlist for all my imagines!!

steve harrington -

nike shoe box find the imagine link here angst, steve harrington x reader

bradleg ‘rooster’ bradshaw (topgun) -

coming soon

jj maybank -

10 things y/n astor hates about jj maybank : the richest family on the islands youngest daughter finds interest in oliver cameron, a freshman in her graduating year except her father has strict rules in place that she cant date until her sister does - who’s dumb enough to take bribe money from odette astor? angst, fluff, jj maybank x reader (endgame), rafe cameron x reader

jj maybank series PART ONE: END OF SUMMER BALL odette doesn’t like the new rules her fathers put in place, so she’s got to find a way around them. PART TWO: “IN YOUR DREAMS, MAYBANK.” 1. i hate the way you talk to me. jj maybank approaches y/n on the beach. PART THREE: LINES ARE DOWN 2. i hate the way you cut your hair. after the party - y/n notices jj popping up around town more often, including at her fathers barber. PART FOUR: KOOK CRAZY 3. i hate the way you drive my car. “you’re not driving home - or going home for that matter.” PART FIVE: FERRIES 4. i hate it when you stare. what actually happened to the oldest astor child? PART SIX: GOLD HUNTING 5. i hate your big dumb combat boots. broken high heels are a pain to walk in. PART SEVEN: CONFLICT 6. i hate the way you read my mind. “i know you’re upset, please just let me explain.” PART EIGHT: “DON’T TOUCH THAT.” 7. i hate way you’re always right. throwing rocks at an expensive window isn’t a good idea, especially if it scratches. PART NINE: RAFE CAMERON 8. i hate it when you lie. PART TEN: SUMMER BALL SHOPPING 9. i hate when you make me laugh. PART ELEVEN: PERSONAL PUNCHING BAG 10. even worse when you make me cry. PART TWELVE: PAINTING SOUNDS NICE 11. i hate it when you’re not around and the fact you didnt call PART THIRTEEN: LUCKY i hate the way i dont hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

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silverbyeol · 2 years

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link to my nav

just typing this is so insane. i say this every milestone but i never stop freaking out that people actually enjoy the content i create?? like im so lucky that i get to do something that i love for all of you lovely people, and i don't know if i would have developed my writing skills so much if it wasn't for this account. so thank you all for being the bestest followers and mutuals i could ever ask for, i love you all so so much!!!

ive seen a lot of other people do these and i thought it would be fun to do one too since i have so many talented writer mutuals and followers!! ive also seen how bad i am at completing requests in a timely manner so i think this'll be just as fun for me as it is for you

ground rules

anyone can participate! it doesn't matter if you're a writing blog or not or how many followers you have - everyone and anyone is welcome :)

fandoms you can write for are atla, lok, and obx, and any character from them goes! you can do character x reader or character x character (please just be appropriate)

on that note, everything has to be sfw. im a minor as are most of my followers, and i dont really like nsfw stuff anyways. if you have a question about whether your writing is appropriate for this feel free to shoot me an ask or a dm!

writing can be anywhere from 100-10k words, and make sure you include a title, summary, word count, and warnings -- if your post is over 500 words please include a read more, and PLEASE tag your fic correctly!

include one of the prompts or dialogue lines in your writing - feel free to tweak them if you need to!

tag everything with #atlabeth 600 writing challenge and please tag me (@atlabeth) so i can find them!

all fics are due by january 1st, 2022! i figure 2 months gives everyone enough time to do something because times are busy, esp for students, as well as me enough time to read through anything that comes in

scene prompts

there was only one bed and there's no other options so i guess we're sleeping together

the first time i went into this cafe it was for the coffee but now it's so i can keep seeing you, the really cute barista

i've been in love with you since we were kids and i've been able to hide it, but now that you're getting really close with this other person i realize i gotta confess or lose you

we broke up in high school for stupid reasons but now that i'm seeing you again years later, i realize that i'm still in love with you

i was too stubborn to bring a jacket and now i have to stand with you for warmth. no, it is not cuddling, and no, i am not enjoying it

i told my friends that i was dating someone and now i need to bring someone to our next party, you're the only person that would possibly go along with this so we're a fake couple for the night

we hate each other's guts but we're assigned as partners for a school project; i hate failing more than you so i guess we're pushing through this

our friends have a bet going on when we're going to get together, but little do they know that we've already been dating for months

dialogue prompts

"Where have you been my whole life?"

"Would it kill you to take this seriously?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe me?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"It wasn't supposed to end this way."

"Oh shit, are you okay?"

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Just like we promised."

"How could you think that this would ever work?"

"I don't know if I can handle this." "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"What are you doing here?" "I didn't know where else to go."

"You lost that right when you walked out of my life."

"I don't know if you know this, but I love you."

"Stop lying to me!"

thank you once again for 600 and for being the best ever - i can't wait to see what you guys come up with!!

tagging some moots for sb: @arquitecturadelanada @pogueslandia @sunnymaybank @simplysolo @babypandawrites @sokkadora @akiris @atsumuahh @missmorosis @novxturient @amourslover @raewritez

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silverbyeol · 2 years

Text

10 things i hate about you part 4 - jj maybank x fem!reader

PART 3 | MASTERLIST | PART 5

a/n: damn i really cant put things out on a decent schedule huh? im so sorry this is coming out 3 weeks later lol hope it doesnt suck

warning(s): some very vague photography talk bc i didnt feel like doing hella research, y/n is an asshole, topper is an asshole, y/n hates jj some more but also doesnt, everyone has a fuuuun time

wc: 3.5k

“So, how is it going with the shrew?” Pope took a couple water bottles and a beer can out of the fridge, tossing the extra waters to John B and Kie and the can to JJ. “Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

JJ frowned as he caught the can and cracked it open. “The hell’s a shrew?”

Pope stopped in the middle of the room and stared at him. “Y’know, ‘The Taming of the Shrew’?” He was met with a blank look. “It’s Shakespeare, she’s like the shrew— you know what, nevermind. What’s it like trying to get with Sarah Cameron’s sister?”

“I would also like to know,” John B spoke up as he propped his feet up against the table. “I have another tutor session with Sarah tomorrow before school, and I gotta know how my chances are looking.”

Kiara snorted. “Ten dollars that she still hates him and nothing is ever going to happen.”

“Ever the pessimist, Kie,” JJ sighed with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know that things are actually going pretty well! I hung out with her last Friday and watched as she keyed Topper’s car, then I got her number. I don’t know why everyone’s so scared of her — she’s not that bad.”

“That’s why people are scared of her,” Pope said. “Because she keyed the car of one of the richest guys on this island with no fear of repercussions.”

“She’s one of the richest girls on the island,” John B defended. “If she’s taking down kooks, that means we don’t have to.” He then looked back to JJ, eyes almost sparkling with hope. “So? Did you get a date with her?”

JJ pursed his lips. “That would still be a no.”

John B groaned as Pope and Kiara exchanged unsurprised looks. “Does anyone wanna give me my ten dollars?” she asked with a self-satisfied smile.

“Shut up, Kie.” John B sat up, now fully concentrated on the matter at hand. “What did you do with her? Did you even ask her out?”

“Of course I asked her out, man! I’ve asked out like, three times now.” JJ rolled his eyes and took a swig from his can. “She’s said no every time. I guess she’s not into surfing.”

“Surfing?” Pope couldn’t help his own bewildered laugh. “Man, do you even know her?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you knew her,” JJ retorted. “Please, Almighty Heyward, do tell.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know her know her, but she’s in the running for valedictorian — smart people at this school are at least aware of each other. So trust me when I say she’s not a surfer bro like you. If you want her to tolerate you, then your best bet is getting into photography.”

“Photography?” JJ ran a hand through his hair and let himself fall back into the sofa. “I mean, she was taking pictures on the track the first time I talked to her. But are you sure that there isn’t anything else she’s really into? I don’t know shit about pictures.”

John B sighed. “I can always ask Sarah what she knows about her. I’m pretty sure she’ll help us with whatever if it means she gets a free pass to date.”

Kiara grinned at JJ. “Better start saving up for a camera, J.”

~~~~~~~~

johnny boy: i am very sorry to report that photography’s your best bet

johnny boy: sarah told me that it’s her number one thing, unless you’re looking to get into feminist literature

johnny boy: also you need to stop smoking. she hates it

goddamn

idk how im gonna handle this whole shitshow without weed lmao

you’re lucky that i like you so much and that topper is paying me a lot because this is really pushing it

johnny boy: i know and i will never stop thanking you

looks like i’m off to bullshit my way into her photo class!

And bullshit he did.

His guidance counselor was so desperate for him to get any kind of boost to his GPA that when he brought up the idea of adding a class to his already lacking schedule, he swore that she could’ve cried.

And that was how JJ found himself searching up how to take pictures and how to sound smart about photography on his phone ten minutes before the class began, leaning up against his locker with a determination not often seen in relation to school.

It was also how he found himself in another unwanted confrontation with Topper Thornton. JJ was unable to hold back an eye roll when he saw the kook walking towards him, and he was 99% sure he knew what this conversation was going to be about.

“Hey, asshole. You got anything to say about what happened last Friday, or do you just wanna start with paying me back for what happened to my car?”

Knew it. JJ glared at him. “Look, it wasn’t my fault. You’ve told me how horrible she is, so shouldn’t you have been expecting something like this? I mean, you’re the one that provoked her.”

Topper’s lip curled upwards. “You really got a thing for pushing your limits, huh, pogue? I’m paying you to take this girl out, not fuck up everything in the process.”

“Do you want to get with Sarah or not?” Topper kept his sharp gaze on JJ, but he didn’t back down. “You said it yourself — I’m the only one that can deal with her. So back the fuck off, and let me do my thing.”

“You’re this close, okay?” Topper held his pointer finger and his thumb so close together they were almost touching. “You’re this close to making me throw this whole thing out the window just so I can fuck you over.”

“Ooh.” JJ grimaced and shook his head. “Sarah doesn’t like violent guys, Top. I doubt she’d like you any more if you start beating up on poor, innocent pogues.”

Dealing with Topper Thornton was almost made worth it by seeing how angry JJ could make him, and this time he got his reward in the form of a clenched jaw and a glare surrounded in daggers. “I wanna see results soon, Maybank. My patience is really wearing thin with you.”

“Trust me. I want to be done with this as soon as possible too — dealing with you is exhausting.”

Topper huffed and walked off, causing JJ to chuckle at the abrupt end to their lovely conversation. It was too easy.

~~~~~~~~

The first thing you spotted when you walked into your classroom was the shock of blonde hair growing ever the more familiar. But along with the blue eyes came the usual downwards twist of your lips, and you purposely walked past him as you shrugged off your bag.

“Damn, Cameron,” JJ called as you went past. “You’re really gonna ignore me after all we went through together?”

“We didn’t go through anything together,” you responded curtly. You then took a seat and turned to him. “Now, what the hell are you doing here? I don’t know much about you, but I do know that JJ Maybank is not a photographer.”

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Needed an extra class, wanted some extra appreciation for the arts. Not everything’s about you, Cameron.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the front as your teacher walked in, already beginning her daily tirade.

“Welcome back, everybody. I trust that you all had a good weekend?” Ms. Newman pushed the door shut and made her way through the room before taking a seat on the edge of her own desk. “Anyone wanna share?”

Nobody in the class raised their hand, and she sighed. “Okay, that’s about what I expected. I guess we’ll start with introducing our new students — JJ Maybank and Alicia Hawthorne.” She gestured to where JJ sat and then towards a dark-haired girl in the back. “They’re both new to this class, but I know that you’re both going to have a great time here.”

“A hundred percent,” JJ said, causing you to scoff when he gave a thumbs up that was just a little too eager. He responded by turning towards you and holding his pointer finger over his mouth in a ‘sh’ motion, and you just shook your head and crossed your arms. This kid was truly unbearable.

Ms. Newman chuckled and clapped her hands together as she moved over to her laptop, addressing the class once more after opening it. “Glad to hear that, JJ, because we’re starting off today strong. Those of you that have been in my class before know that I like doing three big projects, one at the beginning, middle, and end of the year — it’s the best way to see your progression as artists, and two of them technically count as your midterm and your final. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed and leaned your head against your hand, already used to this lecture. You’ve had the good luck of being with Ms. Newman since your freshman year — by now, you could probably recite her project speech by heart.

“Our first project for this year is something a bit different from past years in that it’s going to take a bit longer than usual.” She taps the touchpad a couple of times and her screen is showing on the projector, showing a Google Doc with a whole list of instructions that you can’t force yourself to read. You might like photography, but the only reason you’re in this class is because it’s a requirement for yearbook. It’s stupidly easy, and you know that you’ll be able to handle whatever this project involves with your eyes closed and get an A doing it.

“A good portion of you are seniors, and I know that most of you probably want to get out of here as soon as you can. But high school is something that you’re going to miss once you leave, and you don’t want to move so fast that you don’t focus on any of it. The idea of this project is to make you slow down, to appreciate every day that passes while you’re still in the high school bubble.”

You rolled your eyes. The sooner you were off this island and 2000 miles away, the better.

“So your assignment for this first project is simple, but I hope it makes you think a little bit. Every day, starting today and ending on the first day of next month, you’ll take a picture. It can be of whatever you want, any part of your life, there just has to be a picture for every day of the month. At the end, you’ll put all your pictures together and present it, connecting it with an overarching story. It can be about what those pictures mean to you, what you were going through during that month — you can do anything you want, as long as it connects to you.”

You barely tip your head up as you look around the room, trying to gauge the reactions of the class. Most of them look annoyed, some of them look like they’re about to fall asleep, and JJ is looking at you. You give him your best glare then turn your attention back to the board.

“I recognize that a lot of you are busy with other classes, so I’m going to give the rest of the class to think up ideas and maybe get started with your planning. I’ll leave this up for reference, and feel free to ask any questions if you have them.” She smiles at the class, an expression that is not shared, and nods. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!”

You were in the middle of taking out a notebook and a pencil to get started on some ideas when you hear Ms. Newman say your name, and your head perks up. “Could you come over here for just a moment? Oh, and you too, JJ.”

“...Sure.” You didn’t really have a choice, but any situation with you and JJ was enough to make you wary. You set your pencil on the table then walked over to her desk, JJ joining you a second later.

“As I’m sure you know, JJ is new to this class. We don’t exactly have enough funding at this school for the arts to have more than one level, so that means beginners and more advanced students have to work together in the same class.” Ms. Newman clasped her hands together and offered the two of you a slight smile. “I don’t mean any offense, but she is a lot more experienced than you, JJ. And because this project is a long-term one, I thought that it would be nice for the two of you to work together. You can sort of teach JJ the ropes of using a camera, make sure that he’s actually doing the right thing.”

It was a physical effort to keep your jaw off the ground, but you weren’t able to stop your eyes from widening. In your peripherals, you could see JJ grinning. “I think that’s a great idea, teach.”

“I, um— I don’t?” You placed your hands on the table and chuckled mirthlessly. “Full offense, but I have so many better things that I could do than teach him how to do something in a class he signed up for.”

“Watch your mouth,” Ms. Newman said with a pointed look at you. “You’re one of my most talented students, and that kind of talent could be used to help others find their passion instead of stewing in your own bitterness. JJ is someone that wants to learn, and you’re someone that can help him.”

You continued with your deadpan expression and she sighed once again. “If you do this for me, then I will give you a glowing recommendation for college.”

“I’ve already been accepted to UCLA,” you responded dryly.

“I’ll give you extra credit on this project.”

“I don’t need it.”

And for the first time in you think your entire high school career, Ms. Newman actually looks annoyed. “...I’ll lend you the good camera for the whole year.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “The Canon R5?”

Ms. Newman nodded, allowing a small smile at what she saw as a success.

With a huff of your own, you finally conceded. “Fine. I’ll do it. But bribery won’t work on me for anything else, okay?”

JJ held out his hand with another grin. “Looking forward to working with you, partner.”

With a roll of your eyes and an indignant scoff, you walked back to your seat. JJ shrugged and looked at Ms. Newman. “For the record, I think this is going to go great.”

~~~~~~~~

“Hey— can you slow down?”

You don’t even cast a glance behind you at the sound of JJ’s voice, and after a second he’s keeping pace with you through the hallways. The lingering threat of a partnership with JJ Maybank had been hanging over your head since you sat back down after the conversation, and you’re pretty sure the only reason JJ didn’t try to talk to you afterwards was because he didn’t want to cause a scene.

But now the day was over, and you weren’t as fortunate.

“What do you want?” you asked, making no effort to shield your annoyance.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I want,” he responded. “We’re partners for this project, whether you like it or not. And since I have no idea how to use a camera, and you’re basically an expert…” JJ held up the camera already strapped around his neck, and you recognized it as one of the starters provided by the school for photography students. “Come on. You can spare an hour or two on a nature path or something, right?”

“I could, but I don’t necessarily want to.”

JJ sighed and he held his arm out in front of you, effectively stopping you in place but also earning him a sharp glare. “Come on, Cameron. What happened to all that soul-searching and deep talking on Friday? Do you really hate me that much?”

You continue to hold his gaze for precisely fifteen more seconds before you crack. “Fine,” you say pointedly. “But because I’m doing this for free, you’re going to get the barest basics that there are.”

You can see the tension in JJ’s shoulders dissolve and he grins. “You don’t hate me! I knew it” He claps you on the back and starts forward before stopping and turning partially towards you. “But uh— you should probably lead the way.”

The amount of times you’ve rolled your eyes around JJ Maybank has got to be unhealthy, but you do it once more as you start to walk again. “Don’t push your limits.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Are you gonna at least tell me where we’re going?”

You cast a small glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Keep up and you’ll see.”

You spend the ten minutes that it takes to walk down to the track then over towards the woods to explain the bare basics you’re willing to give him, and to JJ’s credit, you think that he actually listens. Once you arrive at your destination, you spread your arms out to gesture at the woods around you.

“Welcome to the road barely off the beaten path,” you announce, twirling in a small circle as JJ stands a few feet behind you. “Cross country uses this for practice all the time, but the trees provide some decent lighting for some decent pictures.” You look right at him and give him a sarcastic smile. “Perfect for a decent guy.”

He returns your expression with a genuine smile and touches his hand to his heart. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me, Cameron. Now—” You’ve never been so scared for a camera as you are when JJ holds it up to his eye, and you’re more thankful for neck straps than ever. “—you wanna pose and be my first picture for this project?”

And that destroys any magic that had been created by his ever so slight interest in photography, and you answer his question with a glare. He responds by snapping a picture, and you roll your eyes and turn away.

“Perfect.” He grins and holds the camera up so you can see, but you barely even bother as you stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket. JJ sighs and puts the camera down so it’s hanging from his neck again, and he takes a few quick paces to catch up to you. “Are you like this with every person who tries to be nice to you?”

“Just the ones that annoy me.”

“Oh,” he nods. “So literally everyone annoys you.”

“Just about,” you agree. By now the two of you are walking down the path, JJ trailing slightly behind you as he badgers you with questions.

“Well, I don’t know if you could tell by the whole ‘asking you out and trying to get to know you’ thing, but I don’t want to be one of those people.” You stop in place as you turn on your heel and face him, crossing your arms in the process.

“Really?” you ask, slightly bemused.

“Yeah, really.” JJ runs his hand through his hair and shrugs. “I don’t know what it’s gonna take to get off of the list of people you hate, but I’m gonna try my hardest. Because you’re worth it, Cameron. I know that for a fact.”

That leaves you stunned. You’re not even able to think up some kind of witty retort as he starts walking away, and right before the path turns he faces you again. “Same place, same thing, tomorrow after school?”

It takes you a second, but you nod. “I guess.”

JJ smiles and nods as well, taking a few steps backwards as he maintains eye contact with you. “Cool. I’ll see you then, Cameron.”

You’re not even sure how long you stand there like an idiot, just trying to process what happened. By the time that you’re walking back to the school, you’re only really sure of one thing.

JJ Maybank is not who you thought he was. And maybe that’s a good thing.

~~~~~~~~

weird blonde kid: btw my friends and i are throwing a kegger at the boneyard on friday and it’s gonna be huge

weird blonde kid: you should definitely go with me

weird blonde kid: you’ll get so much street cred

you really don’t give up, do you?

i don’t need street cred

weird blonde kid: already told you that you’re worth it

weird blonde kid: i'm in it for the long game baby

weird blonde kid: so is that a yes?

weird blonde kid: then is is it a nooooo

weird blonde kid: i’ll see you at 9:30 then 😛

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz

obx: @pogueslandia

ttihay: @maybankbby @gabiatthedisco @the-romanian-is-bae @obx-pogues-4-life @oliviajaegerswhore @chaoticjjmaybank @its-simply-fanfiction @80strashbag @sinnerluh @shephard17895 @onlyangel-444 @silverbyeol @miniiminie

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silverbyeol · 3 years

Text

“Jealous”

jj x reader

not my gif! credits to the owner. (ok but the ARMS^^^^^)

summary: after a boy asks for your number, JJ gets jealous and tries in every way possible to tell him that you’re his.

MASTERLIST

You knew that the cashier of the store next to your house had a little crush on you. Every time you went there he’d tried to make you laugh and start a conversation, asking about you and your life. At first, you didn’t bother because you thought that he was just being nice, but when one day he started to get closer and touching your arm, you noticed the crush he had on you.

When it started to make you uncomfortable, you decided to tell your friend Kie about it. But soon, the whole group knew and your boyfriend JJ was not very happy about it.

“I’m going with you next time.” He said clenching his jawline.

“Oh, you’re coming with me every time I have to go the store?” He nodded. “No, JJ. I’ll just tell him that I’m not interested the next time he tries something.”

“Yes, and that you have a boyfriend who could kick his ass.” JJ added quickly and you gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, and that. Of course.”

But that wasn’t so easy as you expected, the next time you had to go the store, he approached you and started a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be a part of. You tried to escape but you didn’t want to sound rude.

“Hey, can i ask you something?” He said and you slowly nodded. “I was wondering if...”

Oh, please don’t do what I think you’re gonna do.

“If you, you know, would...”

Please, don’t.

“Would give me your number?”

Fuck.

“Uh, I’m sorry... I have a boyfriend.” You said and he looked down.

“This is embarrassing.” He said and let out a little smile.

“Don’t be! That took a lot of courage and I respect that. I should’ve said it earlier.” You said and he shook his head.

“Oh, no. It’s alright. I should’ve seen it coming. A beautiful girl like you without a boyfriend, unlikely.” You gave him a little smile. “See you later, Y/n.”

You felt sorry for him, even tho sometimes he did made you uncomfortable, you knew that those weren’t his intentions and he was a nice guy.

“Did you tell your admirer that you weren’t interested?” Kie asked once you joined the group in John B’s house and sat down next to JJ.

“Well, yes. After he asked me for my number. Oh my god! I felt terrible.”

“He asked you for your number?” JJ asked and he did it with more anger that he intended to.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I told him I had a boyfriend that could kick his ass.” You said jokingly but JJ didn’t laugh, he just let his arm go around your shoulders and pulled your closer.

JJ decided to walk you home after spending the afternoot at John B’s. His arm was around your shoulders, and that’s when you remembered you needed to get some groceries.

“I need to buy some stuff, you wait here.” You tried to walk to the store but JJ didn’t let go of your shoulders.

“I’m not letting you go there alone.” He tried to walk with you but you hand stopped him by touching his chest. You gave him a serious look and after a couple of seconds later, he nodded.

You walked inside the store as quickly as possible and without making eye contact with the cashier, you headed to where you knew the stuff you needed were.

When you were reading the ingredients for something your father asked you to buy, you felt a body stand next to you and you looked up to see a blonde guy you knew too well.

“JJ! I told you to stay outside!” You said to him and he just shrugged.

“I remembered I needed to buy something.” He tried to sound as innocent as possible.

“Like what?”

“Condoms.” He said and then walked away while looking around.

“What? Why?” You followed him.

“You know why, baby.” He gave you a little smirk and let his arm go around your shoulders.

“No! You don’t need to buy condoms, I know what you’re doing here. Don’t, JJ.” You said but he just shrugged and continued walking, pushing you around with him.

“Yes, I do. Otherwise you’ll have a baby growing inside of you..” he said.

“I’m on the pill!” You said more louder than you intended. He gave you a little smirk and you nodded slowly. “Oh, I see what you’re doing here. Stop.”

“What? I just want to buy some condoms so I can make sweet love to my girlfriend. Is that so wrong?” He looked around clearly looking for the cashier.

“You’re so mean!” You said trying to not let out a smile. You had to be honest, seeing him so jealous made your insides go wild.

“I’m not mean!” He said pretending to be offended.

“You’re not going to find them.” You said. You knew the store like the palm of your hand, you came here since you were able to leave the house on your own. And you knew the condoms were behind the cashier. “C’mon, let’s go.”

After pushing JJ around, you had everything you needed and headed to the cashiers. You told JJ to stay behind, but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from the only boy at the cashier. He knew it was him the moment he locked eyes with him.

“Hi, Y/n.” The guy said with a smile.

“Hi.” You responded trying to get over with this as soon as possible.

Suddenly, you felt some hands go around your waist and pulling you closer to the body you had next to you.

“Do you have everything, baby?” JJ said and you noticed the guy looked up to JJ. He quickly looked down and continued with his job. You nodded but JJ pulled you closer to him and then looked up.

Oh, no.

“Oh, baby, wait a minute. A think we’re forgetting something..” he said and pointed at the condoms behind the cashier.

“JJ.” You said and suddenly felt heat going to your cheeks.

“Hey, man, can we get a box of condoms?” As soon as he asked that question, you looked the other way and tried to not the embarrassment get to you. After that, you found yourself trying not to give a big smile. His jealousy made him even hotter. “Oh, no. Not those one. The every flavour ones.”

Uh, I’m gonna kill him.

You paid for everything trying to not look to the cashier in the eyes.

“I made my decision, im gonna kill you tonight. And they’re never going to find your body.” You said once you two walked out of the store.

JJ burst out into laughter and then let his arm go around your shoulders. “It was pretty funny tho. I was not gonna let this guy make you uncomfortable and get away with it. Y/n, you have to stop thinking that everyone is good and they have good intentions.”

You sighed and then looked to JJ. You hated when he was right. “He did make me really uncomfortable.”

“See?” He gave you a little kiss on the cheek. “Nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it, nobody.”

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silverbyeol · 3 years

Text

10 things i hate about you part 3 - jj maybank x fem!reader

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | PART 4

a/n: all i can really say is thank you all so much for the love on this series!! im so sorry that this update took so long but ily all<3

warning(s): cursing, eating/food, class 6 felony bc we’re fun like that, more of everyone being an asshole, ooc sarah (bianca is a lot more vain than her but its ok since this is an au)

wc: 3.4k

“Thank you, have a good day.” You handed a plastic bag with their items in it to the customer who gave you a polite smile as they left, and you sighed as the shop was empty once again.

Working at a record shop in the twenty-first century wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing, but along with photography it was one of the things you were passionate about. Most of the records in your collection had come from this shop, so when one of their few workers had to leave for college you were more than happy to take over as a part time cashier.

A glance at your watch proved that it was almost time for your break, and seeing that nobody was in the shop you figured you would treat yourself and take lunch early. You ducked under the register to grab your bag, but had to instead hold back a groan at the sound of the door bell ringing.

It was all you could do to keep the annoyance off your face — heaven forbid you actually have to do your job at your job. “Welcome to—” When you popped back up and saw who your customer was, any attempt at joy faded away. “Oh. What are you doing here?”

“Ouch.” JJ Maybank let the door fall shut as he meandered into the shop, eyes trailing over a few shelves on his way to the register but little interest sparking in them. For some reason, that was saved for you as he came to a stop in front of the front table. “That’s the kind of greeting I get?”

“You haven’t proven yourself deserving of any other one,” you responded as you took your phone out of your pocket, sending a quick text to your coworker to let her know you were about to take your break. “Now, are you here to buy something or just to annoy me again?”

“God, you’re always so negative,” he chided. “I didn’t come here for either of those — I was over at the 7/11 getting something for JB and I saw you over here, so I came to say hi. Is that a crime?”

“It should be.”

JJ chuckled as he leaned closer. “It’s a good thing I don’t care about the law.”

“Ugh. Your lines just keep getting worse.” Another glance at the street proved that no other customers were in your future, and to you JJ was more of an inconvenience than a customer. As you went into the backroom to grab your bag, you could hear him calling out.

“I didn’t even know you worked here. Why do you have a job anyway? Everyone knows your family is stupid rich, so why work if you don’t have to?”

You paused in the middle of slipping your jacket on, wondering how much of our life you really wanted to reveal to JJ Maybank.

“I just like this place,” you said as you shrugged your backpack on and walked back out. “Gets me out of the house and supports a small business. People don’t buy records all that much these days, so I try to help out where I can.”

(Not much, you decided.)

JJ raised his eyebrows. “That’s not really what I expected from the biggest bitch in the OBX.”

Your lips quirked up into a thoughtful smile. “Is that what they call me?”

He chuckled as he leaned against the counter, those blue eyes on full display. “Apparently. But y’know, you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

You gave a noncommittal hum as you picked your phone up from the counter and walked out from around the register. “And you’re not as suave as you think you are.”

“Really?” JJ asked, pushing himself up from the side and following you out the door, leaning against the hood of your car instead once the two of you got outside. “I mean, you might not think that, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.”

“Am I that obvious?” you asked with mock surprise. “I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a slight shove, something he responded to by thankfully getting off of your car.

But the second you set your hand on the door handle, the first few notes of some shitty rap song started to filter through the air — to your disdain, a familiar red convertible parked directly behind your car. Not in a spot, just in the middle of the lot. It wasn’t a surprise when Topper got out without a care, but it was enough to bring your scowl back.

“Hey, asshole! Do you mind?” You gestured at his car blocking yours and he hardly gave you a second glance as he continued to walk past.

“Not at all,” Topper said with that smile that made you want to punch his lights out.

You clenched your jaw and stared at his car as he went inside one of the shops, and suddenly the keys digging into your hand gave you a very bad idea.

But then again — maybe the only way that Topper could learn was if someone taught him a lesson. Forcefully.

You gripped your keys tighter between your fingers and walked over to his car. Before you could think about if this was really a good idea, you had already started digging them into the side of his convertible. The sound of metal against metal normally would’ve made you cringe, but this felt way better than it should’ve. And then, just for good measure, you pulled back your foot and kicked it into the side as hard as you could.

You heard JJ laughing behind you, and Topper must’ve seen or heard what you were doing because at that moment he came running out. You took a step back, trying to hide your smile but doing a horrible job.

“You bitch!” he cried, his eyes wide as they took in the extent of the damage. Topper crouched down next to his car and touched the dent, fingers trailing across the tracks you had dug into the side, and this time you couldn’t stifle your laugh.

You looked at the keys in your hands and shrugged. “Whoops.”

His face was almost the color of his car as he pulled out his phone, furiously typing in a number while he glared at you. “You are a fucking psycho! Do you know how much shit my mom is going to give me for this?”

You exhaled loosely and shook your head. “Nope. Have fun with that.”

You gave him a bright smile and walked off, the expression fading into one of annoyance the second you turned away from him. You heard JJ’s laugh behind you as well as footsteps, and you sighed as you realized that meant he was following you. This boy didn’t know when to quit.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” he exclaimed, a boyish joy in his words. “Oh my god, I wish I had gotten a video. That was amazing.”

“Happy to be of service,” you muttered. “You wanna tell me why you’re still here?”

“It’s your lunch break, isn’t it?” He took a larger stride to catch up to you and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “I figured we could go together. Celebrate taking Thornton down a peg, maybe get to know each other some more.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “Why do you want to get to know me so bad? We’ve never even talked to each other, and now you’re out here trying to ask me on dates. What, are you trying to get some money out of me or something?”

“No, of course not.” JJ looked surprisingly earnest as he continued. “I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something special about you. And that’s something that I want to explore.”

“That a line you use on all the other girls you want to explore?” you asked dryly.

“Not at all,” he responded. “Come on, just one afternoon together. I know that you’ll have a good time, but if you don’t then I’ll never bother you again and you can go back to your sad kook world. Deal?”

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and held back a snort at JJ avoiding narrowly running into you. “Fine. But only if you pay for lunch.”

“What?” he protested. “You’re a Cameron! Your daily allowance is more than I make in a whole month, and you want me to pay? Why?”

“Because, pogue boy, as much as it was worth it to fuck with Topper, if I don’t want my dad and our insurance company to murder me for ruining his car then I can’t really be spending my money right now.”

“Pogue boy,” JJ mused. “I am in fact a pogue, which means that I can’t really be spending my money right now. Because I don’t have any.”

“You wanna get to know me? This is the first step.” You shrugged. “It’s either you pay for lunch, or you leave me alone. Your choice.”

~~~~~~~

He paid for lunch.

You had not been expecting that.

To be completely honest, you hadn’t been expecting anything from JJ Maybank. The only things you knew had come from stupid rumors and the gossip of your siblings — you knew that Rafe especially hated him. Maybe that was why you had such low standards. You weren’t one to subscribe to the views that your family held, especially Rafe, but you would be lying if you said the image of JJ you had formed in your head was a favorable one.

In your mind, he was a total douchebag. Someone who hooked up with anyone he could for the fun of it, someone who got into fights just because. He was someone who hid behind the pogue label as a justification for any bad thing that happened to him, and while he might not have deserved those bad things, didn’t really have anything else going for him. To you, he was insignificant.

But after one afternoon spent with JJ Maybank though, you found that you could not have been more wrong.

“God, that actually hurt.” JJ shoved his wallet back in his pocket as the two of you walked outside, sandwich boxes in hand.

“It was seven dollars,” you said dryly.

“Seven dollars I no longer have.” As you started to walk away, he frowned and raised a hand up. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the shop.” You pivoted on your foot to face him with raised brows. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Well— getting lunch together means getting lunch together, not you walking off as soon as I spend my hard earned money.” JJ gestured to the bench just outside the store and gave you a sideways smile. “Seven dollars is worth some of your company, right?”

You checked your phone for the time, and with a grimace you saw some angrily worded texts from your father mentioning something about a red convertible and more than a few missed calls. You had no idea what they could be about.

You sighed heavily and started walking back to him. “Fine,” you said, though there was a slight edge to your voice. “But this doesn’t mean anything. Got it?”

“Got it.” JJ grinned and took a seat, and you joined him on the other side as you sat down cross legged. The silence lasted all of one second before he broke it.

“So,” he started as he unwrapped his sandwich. “What’s it like being one of the biggest kooks in this place? It’s gotta be pretty great.”

You raised your eyebrows, unamused. “What, does getting lunch also mean asking a bunch of questions for no reason?”

“Hey, it’s not for no reason,” JJ defended. “I did say I wanted to get to know you, right? Well, this is how. I’m not telekinetic or some shit.”

“Telepathic.”

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Whatever. My question still stands.”

You took a bite of your sandwich and thought it over. “No. It’s not that great.”

JJ frowned. “Why? Your brother’s always gone on about how much better he is than us, and your parents never stop flaunting it. With everything you have, it has to be great. At least better than how we live.”

“I hate the whole kook pogue thing. It’s stupid, it’s classist, and it creates so many unbearable assholes.” You shook your head and huffed. “If I’m being honest, I can’t wait to get out of here. Out of this fucking island, out of this fucking family, and around actually normal people.”

JJ was actually silent for a moment at that, and you could see him trying to process it as those blue eyes drilled into yours. And when he finally responded, it was almost laughable. “...Huh.”

“That’s all?” you asked, a little annoyed. “You’re one of the first people that I’ve ever told that to, and all I get is a huh?”

He laughed and gave you that stupid smile again. “Well, I’m just a little surprised. You totally seem like the kind of person that would play into the whole kook thing, the way that you act. Most of ‘em do.”

“Trust me; I would be like this even if I wasn’t a kook. It’s one of my many talents.” JJ chuckled again and you had another bite of your sandwich. “But now it’s time for a question from me.”

He leaned against the side railing of the bench and winked. “Do your worst.”

“You asked about my life. So, what has your life been like, JJ Maybank?”

A bit of his bravado faded at that, but it was hardly enough for you to notice. He simply shrugged and adjusted his hat, and though he was trying to act casual about it you could tell it was just that: an act.

“It’s been… a life.” He sighed and his gaze shifted slightly. “Hasn’t been easy, but that’s what it’s like on the Cut. That’s what it’s like for all of us — just doing the best we can to make it. I’m really lucky I have the friends that I do.” JJ met your eyes again and shrugged. “Kinda on the same boat as you, I guess. We both wanna get out of here, I just have a way smaller route out.”

That was… a lot more than you were expecting. It wasn’t much, but you hadn’t expected him to give you anything. You didn’t really know much about life on the Cut — you knew it was harder than anything you had been through on Tanneyhill, obviously — but the way that JJ spoke caused a long-dormant shred of sympathy to hit you.

You opened your mouth to respond, to try and give him some kind of clever line or at least an apology, but you were saved by your alarm going off. You picked up your phone and turned it off, but you sighed. “Break’s over. I gotta get back to work.”

“That’s cool. Honestly, I’m surprised I got you for this long.” JJ’s smile looked oddly genuine as he stood up with you, and that was enough to break the feeling that had been created by the two of you sharing stories and to spurn an eye roll from you.

“You didn’t have me, Maybank,” you said dryly. “We stood in a line for fifteen minutes and talked for ten. I’m surprised I could stand you for that long.”

“Ah, there she is,” he chuckled. “I was wondering when you were gonna insult me again.”

“Goodbye!” you said forcefully as you walked off in the opposite direction.

“Wait!”

For some reason, you stopped and turned around again, fixing him with a deadpan expression. “What?”

JJ grinned. “Seven dollars is also worth your number, right?”

(It was.)

But nothing good could last — as surprised as you were about time spent with JJ Maybank being something good — and you were reminded of that as you walked up to your front door.

You winced as you pushed it open, half expecting some kind of tripwire to trigger and for your dad to instantly start yelling. But the coast was clear as you walked in, and you let out a sigh of relief.

It was just a bit too soon though, as you heard your name being called— yelled— by your dad and his shoes pounding against the stairs. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for impact as he came into view.

“Young lady, you have some explaining to do,” he fumed. “Why have I been hearing from Mrs. Thornton all afternoon about her son’s car being vandalized by you?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Topper why he was being a complete asshole?”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “If people caused property damage every time someone was an asshole, this whole world would have gone to hell! Insurance doesn’t cover your mood swings!”

“Fine!” you exclaimed as you strode past him towards the stairs. “Just tell them I had a stroke or something! I’m not apologizing.”

“You are the most—” Thankfully, his tirade was cut off before it could begin by his phone ringing, and by the look on his face you could tell it was an important one. Ward glared at you as he put it up to his ear. “This is not over. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching with narrowed eyes as he walked outside. You weren’t really looking forward to that talk, but you weren’t going to back down. Topper Thornton deserved a lot more than a ruined car.

The red in your vision from the short argument started to fade, but just as you started towards the stairs another problem stormed in the form of one of your sisters.

“Did you fuck up Topper’s car?” Sarah asked, flabbergasted. “He has been texting me all day complaining about it with pictures — what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Sorry,” you sighed, not sorry at all. “Guess you’re gonna have to walk in the morning or just suck it up and ride with me. Oh— or get one of your many adoring fans to give you a ride.”

As you went up the stairs she scoffed and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “You are completely insane! Dad— dad, you have got to stop her before she ruins my whole life by association—”

You rolled your eyes as she ran off to the other room to complain, and as your phone vibrated in your pocket you took it out.

weird blonde kid: if dates with you consist of ruining fancy cars and getting sandwiches then i am taking you out more often

You rolled your eyes, huffing a laugh as you leaned against the banister.

not a date. he was just being an asshole and you’re just weird

weird blonde kid: but i did pay for lunch

weird blonde kid: that was like my entire life’s savings so you should appreciate it more

weird blonde kid: and i know it’s what you made fun of me for last time but i am a god at surfing and we would have a great time together. so what do ya say to the beach on saturday?

can’t just surf away my weekends. i have things to do because i actually have a future

weird blonde kid: ouch

weird blonde kid: so that’s a yes?

no.

weird blonde kid: you are a hard woman to please

weird blonde kid: but it’s only a matter of time

keep telling yourself that!

“Are you smiling about the property damage you’ve caused?”

You rolled your eyes, the expression fading at Sarah’s words and you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Actually, I am. Planning for my future career as a felon specifically targeting guys you like.”

Sarah scoffed and crossed her arms as she watched you go. “You’re the worst. Do you know that?”

“You never let me forget,” you said dryly over your shoulder.

“And I never will!” she yelled, going ignored by you as you finally reached your room. You sighed and flopped onto your bed, taking out your phone as it buzzed twice more.

weird blonde kid: oh, don’t worry

weird blonde kid: i’m not giving up that easily

As a small smile came across your lips, you had to admit: you were looking forward to seeing him try.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz

series tags: @pogueslandia @maybankbby @gabiatthedisco @the-romanian-is-bae @obx-pogues-4-life @oliviajaegerswhore @chaoticjjmaybank @its-simply-fanfiction @80strashbag @sinnerluh @shephard17895 @onlyangel-444 @silverbyeol @miniiminie

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silverbyeol · 3 years

Text

i just called to say i love you - jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj is missing his girlfriend a little extra one night.

a/n: so ptx is releasing a new christmas album soon and this is one of this cover is one of the singles they released (i recommend listening to it while you read!) and i could not stop thinking about it with jj, so here's a shitty blurb about it lol!

warning(s): none, this is all fluff (there is some cursing though and it is not proofread so its probably a mess)

wc: 771

You let out the heaviest sigh yet as your nails dug into your scalp, tired eyes trying and failing to find meaning in the textbook chapter in front of you. Whoever wrote your physics textbook deserved to get it thrown at them — the way you were suffering, you would do it yourself.

Your freshman year of college had started a little over a month ago, and your professors were already drowning you in work. You knew that would happen with a STEM path, but dammit if you weren’t partially regretting it.

But kinematics and mechanics were temporarily pushed to the side when your phone started to ring, and though the bright screen blinded you for a second when you opened it, a smile soon found its way across your lips.

“JJ!” you exclaimed after accepting the call, your boyfriend’s face immediately popping into your mind. “What are you doing up this late?”

“Wow,” he responded, his voice dripping with mock contempt. “First time we’ve actually called in a month and that’s what I get?”

You chuckled and turned away from your desk, pulling up one of your legs onto the chair. “Sorry. Hey babe, how are you doing? Also, what are you doing up at 2 AM? I’m not your bail call, am I?”

“You have such high hopes for me,” he said with a small laugh of his own. “But no, I’m not in jail this time. Everything’s fine, I just… I miss you a lot. I’m really proud of you, but I’m also really selfish. Y’know, you’re paying your college like, a million dollars just to go there. I give you my company for free. I think we know who the better deal is.”

That got the first genuine laugh out of you in a while, but your heart ached all the same. You had been so busy with college and your internship and everything else under the sun that you didn’t exactly have time to feel emotions, but thirty seconds of talking to your boyfriend and you were seriously tempted to hop on a flight home. This call was like a little pocket of the OBX, and it was something sorely missed.

“I know you’re joking, but I gotta agree. I know this’ll get me a degree and a better future or whatever, but I’m kind of regretting my entire life.” You picked a thread on your sweater and stared out the window — nights like these, you really missed the Outer Banks. “I miss you too. I wish you could be here with me.”

“I do too, babe.” A thousand miles away, and you could tell that he was smiling on the other end. “But, uh— it’s probably better for me to stay here. I don’t understand any of your science shit.”

You gasped and put a hand to your heart. “You mean you don’t want to hear about centripetal acceleration and dry friction?”

“I could listen to you talk about it all day, but I have no idea what any of that means.” The two of you laughed, and when it quieted down again he continued, a slightly more wistful tone. “But seriously — I would listen to you talk about physics for weeks if it meant I got to hear your voice. I miss you a lot more than I thought you would, and I guess that’s why I’m here. I just called to say I love you.”

And if your heart wasn’t hurting enough, those words could’ve caused it to burst on the spot. An uncontrollable smile spread across your lips as a searing heat rushed to your cheeks, and you felt like a little girl with a crush again. “Oh, JJ… I love you too. So much. I’m so sorry that we haven’t talked in so long; I swear I’ll make more time in my schedule—”

He cut you off with a chuckle. “Babe, don’t worry. I know that you’re busy, but you don’t know how happy I am for you. You’re gonna be the smartest fuckin’ thing to come out of the Cut, and I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way. Okay?”

You bit your lip, an attempt to stop the overflowing happiness from rushing out of you, and you nodded despite him not being able to see it. “Okay. You have no idea how much I love you.”

“I think I have a small idea,” he said, a familiar lilt in his voice. “Because when you get us to space, I call shotgun in the rocket.”

You laughed and rubbed a hand across your forehead. “Deal.”

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silverbyeol · 3 years

Text

Nobody:

Me and my fictional BF at 1am:

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silverbyeol · 3 years

Text

When We Collide - Tom Holland

Summary: A close encounter with death, brings on a new relationship (This summary sucks, but I don’t want to give anything away)

Author’s Note: Not sure if this classifies as angst, but the ending is kind of sad... but lots of fluff all throughout!

Word Count: 3.6K

“That’s a wrap for today everyone, have a good day and I’ll see you all on Friday,” the male producer said, there was some light mumbling throughout the cast and everyone disbursed soon after.

“Hey, Tom!” yelled a male voice, stopping the brunette in his tracks, “Would you like to hang out with us? We’re going to grab some drinks at a pub?” Tom looked over at the owner of the voice, one of his co-stars.

“I would, but I already have plans for today. Definitely next time,” the male replied with a smile. Truth be told, Tom didn’t really have any important plans. They were shooting a movie in London and all Tom wanted to do was walk around and enjoy the feeling of being home for a while.

The male walked into his trailer and changed out of the outfit he wore on set and into something more comfortable, jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and, before leaving the set, put on a black cap and dark shades, to mask his identity. It was nice to get away from fame and responsibilities for a while and just lead a somewhat normal life.

The streets of London were always busy with people walking about, minding their business, and tourists snapping pictures of every nook and cranny. The weather was gloomy today and there was really no reason to wear shades outside. He probably looked crazy, but Tom went unrecognized as he made his way towards his favourite cafe- ready to enjoy some afternoon tea and maybe even read a book. The cafe was located in a part of London that was rarely crowded. The brunette turned a corner, and there it was; the cafe was standing just across the street. He stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the signal to turn green.

On the other side of the street stood a young female. She had a pair of over-ear headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. The male looked her over, admiring how cute she was. She had a black and white striped top on, paired with black cargo jeans, and a black Nike duffle bag across her chest. She looked as if she was coming back from the fitness center. The light turned green for them to cross and the female looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars. She quickly looked back at her phone, missing the vehicle that was speeding down the road.

Everything moved so fast. She was about to get hit and without thinking, the male took off running towards her, ready to push her out of the way. Everything started moving in slow motion and for a split second, he saw her eyes widen with fear as she looked up from her phone and noticed the situation unfolding. Tom quickly grabbed the girl's waist, lunging the two onto the ground, right in front of the coffee shop.

‘This definitely hurts less at the studio…’ he thought and fluttered open his eyes, meeting fearful e/c ones.

“Are you okay?” the female asked as she lay on top of Tom.

“I’m fine. No big deal,” he grunted out. It was actually a big deal… His head and back hurt from the fall and his hands were scraped from sliding on the concrete. “Are you okay?” he in turn asked her as he scanned her face for any injuries.

“I’m fine… I- ermm…” she stuttered and quickly got off the males body, sitting down on the ground next to him, “Thank you- I don’t- Everything just happened so fast…” she said with a shaky voice as if the events finally hit her. The car was long gone and there were no other people walking by as the incident occured.

“What a bloody arsehole, he shouldn’t have been going so fast,” Tom said and frowned. The female's things were all over the ground and right in the middle of them were his sunglasses. His eyes met with the girls, yet she seemed to not recognize that he was famous, “Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital?” he questioned, concerned about her well-being.

“I’m alright. Thank you… I’m not sure how I could ever repay you for saving my life… you even got hurt,” she said as she studied his scraped hands.

“There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” she answered and the couple stood up from the ground.

“I’m Tom. Pleasure.” he replied, looking into her eyes for any sign of recognition, but nothing.

“Can I at least buy you a cuppa or coffee?” she asked and motioned towards the shop. Tom warmly smiled at her.

“Sure.” The two grabbed their things and collected themselves before going into the shop.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you two?” asked the barista. Tom and the female awkwardly approached the counter.

“I’ll have a flat white, please,” the female by his side said.

“Two of those,” Tom added. Y/n started digging in her bag, most likely looking for her wallet.

“10 pounds.” the barista said and Tom swiftly handed the barista the orange/brown coloured bill.

“Wait… what are you-” Y/n said in confusion.

“Let’s go sit down,” Tom interrupted and led the two towards an empty table.

“You’re way too kind…” Y/n said when the pair sat down. Tom chuckled.

“Making you pay wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” the female smiled at him and the barista came over to the table, setting down two small cups.

“Thank you.” they both said and Y/n picked up the cup and took a small sip, making Tom stare. Being a celebrity, he never had meaningful conversations with strangers. Everyone either wanted a photo or autograph, so it was hard for the male to make connections with regular people.

“What's up with the shades?” she asked, hoping to see more of the strangers' faces.

“Oh....” Tom mumbled and took off his glasses and cap. There was no one in the shop besides the pair, it was fangirl free, “It’s a habit.”

“Makes you look kind of dodgy...”

“Does it…?” he mumbled more to himself than the girl. She looked more calm than before as if the incident was long forgotten. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. Y/n took a second to examine the male. He had brown hair and a pair of matching brown eyes. His baby face made him look like a puppy. He was cute. Her eyes traveled to his arms, they were slightly veiny, he was most likely fit and worked out a lot. Her eyes looked at his hands that were red and had scratches from the fall.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tom said, wanting to keep the mood light.

“Me? I’m honestly not that interesting…” she said and looked down at her lap, “I’m a ballet dancer, I don’t really have time for much else…” she continued, picking up Tom’s interest.

“You dance? I took ballet classes when I was a child. I was even in the Billy Elliot musical-” Tom said and suddenly felt nervous. (Y/n) didn’t seem to know who he was. It was nice to be normal and treated like a regular human, not a famous actor, “when I was in secondary school,” he added.

(Y/n) looked up with interest, “I didn’t realize you were done with school… you look so young,”

“I’m actually 24,” Tom said. The female looked at him with wide eyes.

“You look so young…” she repeated and Tom took another sip of his coffee, “Did the ballet thing work out for you or are you pursuing different things?” This was Tom’s chance to tell the female that he was a famous actor.

“No, I decided to do other things,” he started. He decided that he liked the feeling of being unknown, “I work on movie sets… bunch of random things, honestly.”

“That’s cool. Do you get to meet a lot of celebrities?”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

The two sat in the coffee shop until the sky turned dark, talking about anything and everything. The longer the two talked, the more Tom started to fancy the female. Despite what she thought, she was interesting and very kind. He never met someone like her, and he definitely wanted to keep getting to know her.

“It’s almost 9…” she said with a tired sigh, “I should get going. I have rehearsals in the morning.”

“I should get going too…” Tom said, slightly disappointed…

“Despite the circumstances, it was so nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for saving me.” she said and started getting up. He didn’t want their conversation to end, if she let him, Tom wanted to keep in touch with the female.

“Wait!” he called out and she looked at him, sitting back down, “Do you mind if I get your number? I would love to take you out on a date, or just hang out,” there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Ummm… yeah- of course…” (Y/n) felt her cheeks get warm. It’s been a while since someone asked her for her number or even asked her out on a date. Tom gave her his phone and she typed her number in.

“Have a goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Have a goodnight, Tom.”

Tom could not concentrate on set. All he could think about was the girl with the e/c coloured eyes. After the encounter, Tom texted the female that night to make sure she made it home safe. Ever since, they’ve been sending messages back and forth constantly. He wanted to take the girl out on a proper date, but that was slightly difficult. Public spaces meant lots of potential fangirls and the male was not ready to reveal his status yet.

“Holland!” yelled a strict male voice making Tom come out his daydream.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter with you?” the director asked, annoyed that they had to reshoot the same scene for the fifth time.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot on my mind.” he replied, making the director sigh in defeat.

“Alright. Why don’t you take the week off, yeah?”

“Oh, okay.” he replied, his thoughts going back to Y/n.

“And make sure you come back to Earth by then!” the male yelled and stormed off, annoyed about having to make a new shooting schedule for the week. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone:

Tom: Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Tom: Totally fine if you don’t

Tom: Don’t want to pressure you

To say that the male felt stupid was an understatment. Why was he so nervous? He barely knew this girl for a week and she made him feel like a teenager who was helplessly chasing their crush around. He looked at the screen, three little dots appeared and a message suddenly popped up:

Y/n: I would like that

Tom: Great! I’ll pick you up at 6! Text me your postal address.

Tom sat on the sofa in Y/n’s flat as they watched Citizen Kane on her small telly. The female was laid down, her legs laying on top of his as she balanced a big bowl of popcorn on her belly, occasionally munching on the snack. Tom looked away from the noir film, his attention purely on his girlfriend. The pair have been dating for nearly half a year and Y/n was still unaware that her boyfriend was an A list celebrity. Of course, Tom wanted to tell her, but they’ve already gotten so far into their relationship that he was scared of how she might react to the news.

“You know… I’ve never been to your flat,” the female said and stuffed some popcorn into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the telly.

“Is that something you would like to do?” Tom questioned.

“I mean… We always spend time here. Why haven’t you invited me over? Are you hiding a secret family from me?” her eyes met his and he saw the playful gleam behind her orbs.

“You caught me. My wife and kids wouldn’t be too happy to find out that I enjoy spending my time more with my mistress than them,” Y/n picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it at him, landing it right in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s what you get, Mr. Holland… or is that even your real name?” she said glaring at him, but a smile was plastered on her lips. Tom grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her belly and placed it down on the floor. He quickly got on top of her, using his forearms as support to hover over her.

“Would you like to come over tomorrow then? I could cook us dinner?” he questioned as he looked all over her face, admiring every little detail.

“That sounds lovely. Your wife and kids won’t mind?” she giggled.

“No. I’ll make sure they’re out by the time you get there,” he said and dipped down to capture her lips.

Tom was nervous about his girlfriend coming over, and not because he had a secret family. Tom did not mind that his girlfriend lived in a flat that only had one small bedroom and a common area, nor was he worried about her being materialistic and only keeping him around for the money. She didn’t have much, but she liked to spoil him with small gifts here and there with whatever money she had left from her paycheck. It was bad enough that he drove around in a Porsche, but he lived in a luxurious two story flat on the outskirts of London. If she were to ask questions, how was he supposed to explain where his wealth came from? What if there were paparazzis situated outside his home? He wanted to tell her about being Spider-man on his own time and this could potentially out him.

“I thought you lived closer to the city…” Y/n said looking out the window, watching as they got further from the center of London.

“I prefer staying out of London… It’s always so crowded and the traffic is horrible.” he replied as he pulled into the carpark. Y/n smiled in anticipation. The building of the flats looked really modern, as if they were built recently. She knew that this place must have been expensive to live in. The couple walked inside the building, his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the lift.

“Mr. Holland.” the doorman greeted, with a kind smile.

“John. Good evening.”

Once inside the lift, Tom swiped his key card and pressed the button for the highest floor. Y/n looked around, slightly feeling out of place. She knew that Tom worked in the film industry, but she didn’t expect him to be loaded. The door to the lift opened and the girl's eyes went wide with shock as she was met with a spacious flat and huge windows that were facing towards the center of London.

“Woah… You said you did what?” the female questioned as she looked out the window.

“I work on movie sets… which reminds me,” he said and came up behind the female, wrapping his arms around her middle, “There is a private screening tonight of the movie I was working on when we first met. It would mean a lot to me, if you came along to watch it.” he said, kissing his girlfriend's cheek.

“Am I allowed to?”

“Of course. You’re my plus one, love…”

The couple finished their dinner before going to see the private screening. Most movies would be shown to the cast and crew before they officially premiered in Hollywood. This showing was meant for the UK team only. This was the moment that Tom would confess who he actually was. His heart was pounding against his chest as he and Y/n sat down in the chairs in the screen room. There were only five others there.

“What’s this movie about?” questioned the female.

“Superheroes.” Tom responded with a bit of a smirk on his face. This was going to be the first time he’s seen the final product, so he wasn’t completely sure when Peter Parker was going to make an appearance. The Marvel logo played and transitioned into a poor quality memorial video of all the Avengers that died during the Thanos battle. The scene continued with two teens as they were giving a morning announcement to their school. Tom looked over at his girlfriend who looked confused, she must not have watched any of the marvel movies. The scene ended and there he was… It was always weird seeing your own face on a big screen.

“I have a plan!” his character started, talking about how he was going to woo MJ in Paris. Tom looked over to his right. Y/n had her mouth wide open as she watched her boyfriend speak in an American accent. She looked at the screen and slowly turned her head to look at her boyfriend as if trying to confirm that it was the same person. Five minutes into the movie and there he was in his Spider-man suit talking at a fundraiser. Y/n grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up, walking out of the screening room, having seen enough.

“Shit…” Tom mumbled and raced after her, “Love, wait!” he yelled, but the female kept walking until she got outside. Not knowing where to go, she stopped in her tracks, “Y/n…”

“You’re Spiderman…” she muttered lowly and Tom almost didn’t catch it.

“I-” he started saying, but she quickly cut him off.

“This is mental. You’re Spiderman and you forgot to mention that your job entails you to actually be the main character in the film?” she said and turned around to look at him. She looked sad, almost disappointed. Tom was at a loss for words.

“You’ve nothing to say?” she tutted and started walking in a random direction, away from the male.

“Babe! Wait!” he yelled and ran up to stand in front of her to block her way, “I was scared okay… Everyone who I ever meet on the street wants a photo or autograph. When I met you, you made me feel normal for once, not like I’m some object that belongs in a museum. I know that keeping this from you was bad and I am truly sorry,” her eyes sparkled in understanding as she listened to the male speak, “I don’t want to lose you.” he ended, his eyes slightly glossy. Y/n sighed and leaned over to give him a kiss. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, fearing that this would be the last time he would be able to feel her lips.

“I understand if you want to break up-”

“Shut up and kiss me, you bloody git.” the female giggled, making Tom smile and lean in for another kiss.

…

“Don’t lie to me ever again.”

“Never.”

It’s been about five years since the couple started dating. Tom was ready to ask Y/n to marry him. He was going to propose on their anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how or where; all he knew was that he was ready to call her his forever. The male walked into their shared bedroom where the future Mrs. Holland was already in, laying under the covers, dozing off. He slipped in and pulled her close to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispered as he kissed her neck, earning a tired reply…

“I love you, too…”

~~~~~

"He's waking up!"

"Tom!"

"Can you hear us?"

"TOM!" slowly his eyes opened and he met a white ceiling.

"Where am I?" he groaned and looked over to the side, his mom was there looking at the male in worry.

"You're in the hospital, Tom. You've been in a coma for six months..." his mother said in a calm voice as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Mum? Where's Y/n? I need to see her, is she okay?" Tom questioned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was pounding as he tried to recall the accident.

“Woah… you need to stay in bed, Thomas. Who’s Y/n?” his mother asked, concerned.

“My girlfriend… I was going to propose to her.” Tom let out.

“I’m going to go get a doctor. Please don’t move.” his mother said and left the room.

“What happened?” Tom groaned and he held his head.

“Your director called us after you didn’t show up for the shooting…” spoke up his brother, Harry, who was sitting on a chair, on the opposite side where his mother just stood, “You and some girl got hit by a car just outside a shop in London.”

“Coffee shop?” Tom questioned, his headache starting to ease.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Where’s the girl?” Tom questioned, curious what was happening.

“Just in the other room. They haven't been able to identify her.” Harry finished, concerned about his brother.

“Can you take me to her?”

“You just woke up… No way…” Harry said as he frowned at the older male.

“I need to see her…” Tom pleaded, making his brother sigh. Harry got up from the chair and rolled over a wheelchair that was located on the other side of the room. He helped his brother on it and wheeled him towards the room next door. The pair of brothers stopped just outside a window that looked into a patient's room. The shape of her face, the colour of her hair- everything about her was so familiar. She had lost a little colour on her skin, probably due to being in a coma and light bruises littered her body. He couldn’t see the colour of the girl’s eyes, but he was sure that he recognized her.

She was the same girl who Tom was going to propose to. That girl was Y/n...

Thanks for reading, lovely~

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