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maybeimamuppet · 1 year

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i'll be there for christmas (1/3)

hellooooo everyone!! happy holidays to everyone who celebrates something and happy day to everyone who doesn’t!! i hope it’s been wonderful :)

welcome to officially the longest thing i’ve ever written!! yeeha this is apparently the length of a novel so that’s fuckin wild

and it’s also a gift for my love. merry christmas (or whenever you read this :p) you’re the answer to a wish i didn’t know i was making and i’m so thankful every day that you came into my life. i love you so much <;33

for the rest of you!! tw for

dysfunctional family dynamics

mentioned homophobia

mentioned outing

and as always if i’ve missed something please let me know so i can add it in :)

enjoy!!

————

Janis wakes up to the sound of her ringtone.

Not her alarm. She has them set to different sounds. Her ringtone.

She groans and sits up in bed, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes and fumbling for her phone on her nightstand.

She huffs when she sees Damian’s name and stupid picture lighting up her screen; her phone buzzing in her hand in a desperate bid for her attention. She hits the green button and puts her phone to her ear.

“What do-”

“Where the fuck are you?” Damian huffs on the other end. “It is nine fifteen, you are half an hour late for your shift, madam. It is the week before Thanksgiving, you know damn well everyone and their mother is getting coffee before they have to deal with their miserable families-”

“Fuck! Shit, Dame, I’m-” Janis begins, flying out of bed and throwing all her clothes out of the hamper to find her work uniform. “I overslept, I’m- shit!”

“Just get here, I’ll cover for you if boss man shows up,” Damian sighs. “This is the last time, though.”

“I love you,” Janis says. “I gotta go, gimme ten.”

“Ten only.”

“Maybe fifteen.”

“Ten!”

“Ten,” Janis echoes, hanging up the phone and grabbing her work hat off its hook by the door. “Fuck my life.”

—-

Janis manages to make it out the door in three minutes flat. Her uniform is stained and wrinkled since she forgot to wash it, her hair and teeth aren’t brushed, she didn’t eat breakfast, and her shoes are untied, but she made it out the door in three minutes and that has to be enough on a morning like this.

She has her cap hanging out of her mouth as she ties her hair back in a lazy sort of knot, running the four blocks to the coffee shop.

She sighs when she sees it come into her view, bracing internally for… something. Every day is different. None of them are necessarily good. But they’re all different.

She’s about to open the door when it flies open at her. She stumbles backwards to avoid a face full of glass door and trips over her untied shoelaces.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” she scoffs to the woman who landed on top of her.

“Me?! You should tie your fucking shoes!” the woman yells.

“And you should watch for innocent pedestrians before you take off for your fucking marathon!”

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?!”

“A fucking nutcase, clearly!” Janis yells. “Now if you’ll excuse me, your highness, I have a fucking shift I’m late for. Sorry to be in your way with my… common… ness. Look, just leave!”

“For all you know I’m a paying customer!” the woman yells after her as Janis stalks into the shop.

“I’m not on the clock yet!” Janis retaliates. “Have a fucking fantastic day, enjoy trampling people!”

“Hmph!” the woman huffs, rushing off down the sidewalk. Janis shoves her way back through into the employee area to clock in.

“What the fuck have you done?!” Damian yells, slamming the door open after her.

“What?” Janis sighs, swiping her employee ID card through the system.

“Do you have any idea who you just yelled at on the fucking sidewalk?!”

“Some blind businesswoman? She fucking knocked me on my ass, I was well within my right to yell.”

“That was Cady Heron!” Damian insists. “As in heiress to Heron Enterprises and fucking billionaire, Cady Heron!”

Janis freezes mid-step on her way back to the main shop. “You’re kidding me.”

“No! You fucking- oh my god, Janis!”

“I just yelled at the daughter of the person who owns my entire apartment complex.”

“He owns half the city, Janis.”

“I just called the daughter of the person who owns half my city a fucking nutcase.”

“Janis!”

“Alright, look, if I get crucified just… deal with my affairs and I love you dearly. Just don’t… don’t think about what just happened.”

“You yelled at a billionaire!” Damian insists.

“Yes! Continue to remind me of that, thanks a fucking million.”

“Billion.”

“I’m gonna pour hot coffee. All over you. And everything you love,” Janis grumbles, taking her spot behind the counter.

“Tie your damn shoes.”

“Hot! Coffee!”

—————

The next morning gets off to a smoother start. Damian personally set no fewer than fifteen alarms for her, so she’s up well within a reasonable amount of time.

She can walk instead of sprint today, as she carefully adjusts her freshly washed and ironed uniform.

“Ms. Sarkisian?” a voice asks as she fluffs her hair out from the collar of her polo. Janis turns on her heel and sees a man in a full three-piece suit standing by a very fancy car. He’s even got one of those funky little handkerchiefs in his pocket. And little white gloves.

“Maybe. Who’s asking?”

“In the car, please, madam.”

“I don’t think so,” Janis replies, turning back around. “Have a nice day.”

“Miss, I really must insist-”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want with me, but I have a shift to get to. Enjoy your gloves.”

“Ms. Sarkisian,” a woman’s voice says. Janis turns around again and sees a woman standing behind the now open door to the backseat. Janis winces when she sees it’s her. From yesterday. “Please.”

Janis looks suspiciously between the two of them. The… driver, Janis presumes, gestures gently to the very expensive car. Janis shoots each of them one last look before she slowly makes her way over and gets in. The woman smiles like the cat that got the canary as she takes the far seat.

“Whoa,” Janis whispers as she sees the interior.

“Coffee?” the woman asks as they start driving.

“Oh, um… no, thank you. I, er… get enough of that in my day to day. Listen, I’m so sorry about yesterday, I had no idea who you were and I really can’t afford to be sued right now-”

“I’m not suing you,” the woman says. She sighs and reaches out a hand for Janis to shake. “Let’s just forget all about that, shall we? Cady Heron, pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… Janis… Sarkisian,” Janis says awkwardly. How often do you get to shake hands with a billionaire just for her to fuck it up? “Same here.”

“Janis, can I call you Janis?” Cady begins, speaking so rapidly that Janis doesn’t even get a chance to interject. “I have a small proposition for you.”

Janis looks as she hands over a manila folder. She opens it and sees a nondisclosure agreement as the first document contained within. What the fresh hell-

“What-”

“Listen, Janis, I’m sure you know by now who I am. And that our… how do I say this delicately, our worlds don’t really overlap. And that is why you are perfect for this,” Cady says.

“And what exactly is this?” Janis asks, continuing to flick through the documents.

“I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I- what?!” Janis says, unable to hold back a laugh. “You- I- what?!”

“Just hear me out, I implore you,” Cady begs. “I’m not exactly young anymore. I’m twenty-four, you know. My family has… expectations. I’m to be married by twenty-six, and the sooner the better. People, and the press, are beginning to talk. And they’re not exactly saying favorable things. When they talk, the common folk talk, and we… we can’t have that, I’m sure you understand.”

Janis blinks at her.

“Anyway, I just need someone to assuage the masses, and my family. And that’s where you come in,” Cady says with a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “All I need you to do is pretend to be my partner through Christmas. We’ll be ‘broken up’ by New Year’s and on our own merry ways. I’ll never even come through this part of town in person again if you say the word.”

“I’m still… why… why me?”

“You made it very clear yesterday that you have absolutely no idea who I am. The press will love seeing me dating a poor person, and the fact that we know nothing about one another will make our inevitable breakup much easier. And you’re someone I’ll never have to see again. I can fake our grisly separation, milk that for ten years so my parents won’t try to arrange my marriage to anyone and by that point I’ll be running the business and able to use that as an excuse.”

“Wow, you really have this all planned out,” Janis chuckles. “So… I just… have to…”

“Pretend we’ve been together for about three years. For three weeks. And then I’ll pretend to propose, you say no and leave, I’m heartbroken, we never speak again.”

“Propose?!” Janis yelps.

“Fake propose,” Cady amends. “So. Thoughts?”

“Why the hell would you think I’d agree to this? We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot yesterday,” Janis says.

“Might help if you tied your shoes.”

“Not the time,” Janis hisses. “Look, as much as you think we’d never see each other again, your family owns half this city! They own my work, and-and my apartment building! If anyone knew about this they’d ruin me, and-and I can’t afford to move-”

“Nobody will know but us and a select few people, and everyone will sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

“Then-then your family will actually think I’m the kind of heartless monster who rejects a proposal around the holidays! They’ll- god, I don’t have a lawyer-”

“There’s a contract in there that states I will undo anything my parents will attempt to do in terms of legal or financial action against you for ‘breaking my heart’. And, quite frankly, they will not have a case in the first place. I’ve already signed everything. We may have a lot of property and stake over this city, but I mean it when I say that after that clock strikes twelve on Boxing Day you’ll never hear from any of us again.”

“You realize this is a fucking crazy thing to ask of me, right? Like, this… this is weird,” Janis insists.

“I am aware this is rather unconventional, yes,” Cady nods. “But I’ve covered every possible eventuality and you’re totally protected legally and financially speaking.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Janis says. “Just… you want me, a complete stranger, to spend the holidays with you, pretend we’ve been dating for years, and then reject a proposal?!”

“That was the hope, yes.”

“Why would you ever think I’d agree to this?”

“Because I’m prepared to pay you one hundred thousand dollars for it,” Cady says. Janis balks at her.

“A hundred-”

“Thousand dollars, yes,” Cady says like it’s entirely obvious. “And there’s a clause in your contract that states you’re allowed to leave for whatever reason should you so choose between the date you sign it and the date of our scheduled breakup. And as long as you help me come up with an excuse and make it believable, you still receive full pay. And if you don’t, I’ll give you fifty thousand anyway.”

“So… if I… agree to this,” Janis says. “I basically get a hundred thousand dollars guaranteed, and I just…”

“Pretend to love me for three weeks.”

“I…” Janis stutters. “Jesus. You know what? Yeah, okay.”

Cady hands over a pen. “Excellent. I will need you to sign the NDA before you exit the vehicle just to guarantee nobody else finds out we had this little conversation, but the rest can be handled whenever is convenient for you. I’ve given you the number and address of my lawyers’ office, you can contact them if you have any questions and drop all the documents off there when you’ve signed them.”

Janis quickly skims the NDA, and it sounds reasonable enough. Almost not daring to believe it, she signs on the dotted line and passes the page and pen back to Cady.

Almost like she planned it, they come to a stop right outside the coffee shop practically the second the paper touches Cady’s hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Cady says, giving another half-smile and shaking her hand.

“Yeah, uh… you too,” Janis says, blinking in confusion as she accepts the handshake. Her jaw drops when Cady passes over a massive black binder as well.

“Here’s all the information you should need in the coming weeks. Thank you again.”

“Anytime,” Janis says. Before she knows it, she’s blinking at a dust cloud down the road.

What the Reese’s peanut butter fuck have I just gotten myself into?

—————

“Janis, hon?” Damian asks partway through his walk home from work.

“Hm?” Janis hums softly.

“Why are you following me home?”

“I need you right now,” Janis mumbles.

“Mmhmm. And what’s with the binder?” Damian questions, walking a bit slower to let her catch up.

“Why I need you right now,” Janis explains. Damian nods solemnly and lets her continue to slowly trail after him.

Janis enters his apartment when he unlocks the door, leaving the binder and the folder on his coffee table and face planting into his couch.

“So what’s-”

“Don’t look in the book!” Janis says, rearing upright when she hears him approach it.

“Why not?” Damian yelps, scrambling away like the binder is apt to explode at any moment.

“Because I think that’s a felony,” Janis sighs.

“…Say what?”

“Sit,” Janis says. Damian plops onto his rug like a kindergartener waiting for story time. “Do you have any duct tape?”

“Um… I think I have some tie dye patterned tape left from pride,” Damian says. “Why?”

“So I can stop you screaming,” Janis sighs. “Just promise you won’t?”

“You know damn well I can’t promise that, Janis,” Damian says. Janis sighs and nods.

“So. Did you, by chance, um… happen to see what happened this morning?” she begins.

“Um… no, there was a… young… gentleman in the shop I was, um… quite… focused- let’s just say no, shall we? What happened?” Damian says. Janis raises an eyebrow.

“A gentleman?”

“We’re talking about you at the moment, let it out, doll,” Damian says immediately.

“Fine. But you’ll tell me if he was actually cute later. Anyway,” Janis sighs. “So. Let me set the scene.”

Damian nods eagerly, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands.

“I’m walking into work, cursing the world like normal, yadda yadda. Then, a guy behind me goes, ‘Ms. Sarkisian?’ and I turn, and it’s this, like… dude you’d see in, like, a movie. Full suit with the little…”

“Pocket square?”

“Sure,” Janis nods. “And the stupid little hat and white gloves and he’s all, ‘Get in the car please’ and I’m like, ‘I have no idea who you are or how you know my name, I’m sure as shit not getting in your car, Mr. Gloves’.”

“Obviously,” Damian nods. “Wait, how did he know your name?”

“Just wait. So I say no and turn to keep going and then someone else says my name and I’m starting to wonder how many people on the sidewalk know my name,” Janis says. “But this one is a woman, so I, er… checked.”

“Checked, eh?”

“Checked,” Janis confirms with a glare. “And… it’s fucking her.”

“Her?”

“Cady Heron,” Janis says. Damian’s jaw drops. “And she seemed… less mad than yesterday, so I figured I’d take the chance to apologize for the whole… nutcase… sidewalk incident. So I got in probably against my better judgement and before I can even say sorry she’s… like, making a business proposal at me.”

“A business proposal?” Damian asks.

“A business proposal! And you know what she wants?!” Janis says. Damian shakes his head, looking at her imploringly. “I can’t tell you, because I signed a fucking NDA!”

“You what?!” Damian says, leaping to his… knees. “Okay, so… legally binding document aside. What the fuck, Jan?”

“I can trust you, right? Like, if I break this… legally binding document I appear to have signed you won’t tell people?”

“No, obviously. We go to prison together or not at all, and orange is clearly not my color,” Damian says. Janis nods.

“You do have a winter complexion. Anyway,” Janis says, handing over the binder and folder. Damian opens it and peeks at the first few pages. “I have to pretend to be her girlfriend!”

“You what?!“

“Calm down,” Janis says, like she hasn’t just dropped a major bombshell. “It would appear… that I’ll be spending Christmas with… the Herons. And pretending that I’ve been dating their daughter for three years.”

Damian tries to speak, but doesn’t seem to be able to form words. Janis doesn’t blame him.

“I…” Damian says eventually. “Huh?”

“I know! What the hell was I thinking?”

“What were you thinking?!”

“She… is paying me a… not small amount of money,” Janis explains.

“How much?”

“Hundred grand,” Janis mumbles.

“A hundred grand?!” Damian yells.

“Shut up! You have neighbors!”

“A hundred thousand dollars, Janis!”

“Shut up! I know!”

“Okay, so the why has been established,” Damian says with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Did she tell you how the fuck she thinks this is going down?”

“No, she just gave me the binder and said it had everything I need to know. I’m supposed to sign everything in the folder and drop it off with her lawyers and then… study, I guess.”

Damian opens the manila folder and starts flipping through the documents. He doesn’t actually read all that much, to leave Janis and Cady with some semblance of privacy. And because Janis may be right about it being a felony for him to lay eyes on them.

“In the event of your early demise?!” he yelps when he sees the phrase on one document.

“What?” Janis says. “It doesn’t say that!”

“It does!” Damian insists. He hands the document over, and, sure enough, this one details what should happen with the money should either of them die during the duration of the contract.

“What the fuck?” Janis whispers. “I can split the money between my loved ones if I list their names and contact information for their lawyers or give it to a charity of my choice if I die. And if she dies then I have to give the copy I keep of this to her lawyer so I can still get the money.”

“Where the hell is she taking you? The fucking moon? How are either of these things a possibility?!”

“I dunno. I really hope it’s a ‘just in case of the worst possible scenario’ thing. She did say she had prepared for every possible eventuality,” Janis says.

“Is she pretty?” Damian asks quietly.

“What?”

“Cady. You saw her up close, is she pretty?”

“I… yeah, I guess,” Janis replies. “She’s not not pretty, but she was so… impersonal, I guess. It kinda put me off a little bit. It really did feel like some kind of business deal.”

“Wow,” Damian says. Janis can tell he’s already lost in his own fantasies, probably already drafting a fanfiction about this whole deal in his mind. Janis takes the moment of quiet to give the binder a first skim over.

“Oh my god, she has five brothers?!” Janis yelps.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, she’s the youngest. First girl, was a big deal when she was born,” Damian says.

“They all have the same initials!” Janis says, frantically flipping back and forth between the pages. “How am I supposed to-”

“Wow, they look really similar,” Damian says, sitting next to her on the couch and peeking over her shoulder.

“Not helping!” Janis insists. “How am I meant to tell them apart?”

“Hope,” Damian says immediately. “Really hard.”

“No, no, I can… I can do this,” Janis says. “Studying. It’s just like the SAT’s, right?”

“…Sure,” Damian nods. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Oh, shut up!”

—————

Janis is on a plane two weeks later. She settles further into her cushy seat in first class. It’s a long flight to Colorado, two whole hours, so she pulls out the binder to do a last minute crash course.

Damian made flash cards, which helped more than Janis cares to admit. Janis thinks she has Cady’s entire family down to a t, but she knows there’s also a solid chance she’ll be so nervous she’ll forget everything she knows about her own family as soon as she lands. So she does some last minute studying just to be safe.

She looks around suspiciously just to make sure nobody is peeking over her shoulder or anything. Nobody is supposed to know she knows Cady yet, and nobody is ever supposed to know that their relationship isn’t real.

Luckily, she’s in a window seat, so she just leans in closer to the small pane of glass and flips to the first page.

Cady’s oldest brother. Charles Jacob Heron The Fourth. Thirty-seven years old, loves… embroidered handkerchiefs, imported teas, and peanut butter. Interesting sounding guy.

Next brother, Clifton Joseph. Thirty-six, likes boats, spas, and gambling. Janis is more than a little concerned by what that could mean.

Then, Clark James, thirty-two. Janis tries to remember his interests without checking the card. Fancy cars, skiing, and…

She has to check for his third main interest. Scuba diving? Interesting. He certainly sounds more fun than the brothers Janis has read through so far.

Cady’s next brother is Callum Jefferey. Thirty years old, already has three children, and enjoys… his wife and kids. And jet skiing. Huh.

And last but not least is Chester Jeremiah. Closest in age to Cady at twenty-seven and seems to be her biggest competition. Competition in what, Janis can’t be sure, but… something. Chester likes fine art, the opera, and imported chocolates. Sounds like Damian’s kind of man.

Janis intently studies their portraits, trying to find physical tells to keep them separate in her mind. They all look remarkably similar and Janis is not at all panicked. She has a full dossier on practically Cady’s whole family, (including the paternal grandmother she’s supposed to avoid at all costs) but she knows she’ll be spending the most time with Cady’s parents and brothers.

“Clifton has… the ear,” she murmurs out loud to herself. “God, Charles, what are you about?!”

Her seat neighbors are starting to look at her oddly, so she turns closer to the window and returns to her silent studying.

All of the photos look like they were taken by the paparazzi. Maybe they were. How often does Cady actually see her family?

She continues browsing, looking through the very detailed etiquette instructions. Shake hands, introduce yourself, shut the fuck up. Basically what it boils down to.

Cady also gave her a list of ‘acceptable’ pet names and interactions. Baby, sweetheart, love, darling… Janis can put the pieces together well enough. Hugs are to be from the front or back only, side hugs look too platonic. Cheek kisses are acceptable, kisses on the lips will be discussed when they meet up in person. Holding hands is also acceptable, but only if their fingers are interlocked. Apparently, it’s also too platonic if they aren’t.

Janis sighs and flips the book back shut. She frowns in confusion when the pages ripple and a little piece of paper is suddenly poking out the top. She hasn’t seen this before, so she grabs it to see what it is.

A letter.

Janis,

Hi. It’s Cady. Nobody knows I’m adding this to your notes. So please don’t tell anyone, especially not the lawyers. If you’re a lawyer reading this, no you’re not.

I just wanted to warn you. The paparazzi know someone is joining us for the holidays. They will be at the airport, and they will figure out which driver is ours. As soon as you get off the plane, people will be looking at you, and looking for you.

Being in the public eye can be exhausting, especially if you’re not used to it. Just don’t answer any questions and try to ignore the cameras. I’d also advise you to stay away from the internet for the duration of your stay with me. The tabloids can and will be cruel, and having the internet at your fingertips is a blessing and a curse. Just trust me, and avoid them at all costs.

Nobody knows your name yet, so the driver will have a sign with your name on it. Any other name is a fake and you should not get into their vehicle under any circumstances.

If any of this ever gets to be too much for you to handle, please let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help.

Regards,

Cady Heron

Janis looks oddly at the letter once she finishes, and reads over it a few more times. It’s a bit strange, but either way, Janis decides to heed the letter’s warning. She tucks it back in between the pages and looks out the window she’s next to.

The landscape is beautiful, she has to admit. They’re getting closer to Colorado, so most of it’s covered in snow. She almost can’t tell where the clouds ends and the snow begins.

Before she knows it, the pilot is announcing their landing and she’s buckling her seatbelt. She watches the ground get closer and closer. She’s bracing, but she’s not sure what for. Landing has never been her favorite part of flights.

But it goes as smoothly as a landing can. Janis grabs her carry-on and it only takes half an hour for everyone to get off the plane.

She grabs her suitcase from the conveyor and heads out to the pickup area. My name.

She walks past at least three cars bearing Cady’s name. She’s more than a bit concerned by how many people are earnestly trying to kidnap her.

A few other names go by, and then she spies hers. It looks to be the same driver Cady had when she… borrowed Janis that morning last month.

“Ms. Sarkisian,” he says when he sees her.

“Yeah. Hello,” Janis says. “Nice to see you again.”

The man blinks in shock, seemingly amazed that she remembered him. “You as well, ma’am. Miss Heron is expecting you presently.”

Everyone around them starts murmuring at the mention of the H-word. The driver tenses, realizing he’s made a grave error. Cameras begin flashing around them. Janis looks around to see them, tilting her head as people start clamoring for her to look every which way and calling out questions one after another after another, so quickly she can’t pick the words apart.

The driver beckons her into the car. Janis is so overwhelmed that she obeys without a word, desperately wanting out of the situation. Her bag is unceremoniously shoved in the trunk, and Janis is glad she didn’t pack anything fragile. She plops into her own seat with a huff of relief as the driver gets them going. Wherever they’re headed.

“Ah, Janis, fantastic,” a voice says suddenly from behind her.

“Jesus fuck!” Janis yelps.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I trust your flight went okay?” Cady says as she clambers her way next to her from the very back seat.

“I- yeah, it was fine,” Janis says. “Were you back there the whole time?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I absolutely had to accompany you,�� Cady says. “People would talk if we didn’t arrive together. Tinted windows and blankets truly are wonders, aren’t they?”

“Uh… sure,” Janis says. “What-”

“If the paparazzi had seen me you’d never have made it into the car,” Cady says. “But I wanted to be here.”

“Thanks?” Janis says.

“That won’t do,” Cady pleads. “You can’t talk to me as if I’m an alien, nobody will believe us then.”

“I’m sorry,” Janis says. “This is all just so… weird for me, still. I don’t wanna say anything wrong.”

“We can deal with you saying the wrong thing, it’ll be better than you not saying anything at all,” Cady says. “I swear you won’t offend me or anything. You can feel free to speak your mind.”

“Uh… okay,” Janis says. Cady glares at her. “Sorry, I’m sorry! It’s a lot of pressure!”

“If this is going to be too much for you please tell me now,” Cady says.

“No, I can… it’ll just take me a second to adjust to all this, y’know? This is already… a whole new world to me. I’m a fish out of water, I gotta figure out how to breathe.”

“Well, I’d suggest you figure it out quickly. We don’t have a very long drive,” Cady says. “It really shouldn’t be much different from what you’re used to.”

“I’d have to sell several of my internal organs to be able to afford this car.”

Cady purses her lips and nods. “Point taken.”

“I’ll be fine by the time we get there, I just… all I knew about you before this was what my friend Damian told me from reading about you in the magazines and stuff. It’s gonna take me a while to stop seeing you as a celebrity, and everything.”

“I understand,” Cady nods. “Um…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything embarrassing to try to speed up the process,” Janis comforts.

“Oh, good,” Cady sighs. Janis chuckles.

“So, the binder thing said you had some… rules you wanted to go over in person?” she prompts.

“Oh! Yes, thank you,” Cady says. “It is important that this is all believable, but I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. I felt it would be best to discuss what you’re comfortable with in terms of physical and emotional affection in person rather than just declaring how I’d like it to be.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Janis says. “I mean, I’ll do basically anything for this amount of money.”

“So… if I pinned you against a wall in front of a crowd of society people and started making out with you, you’d be alright with that?” Cady says.

“Uh- is… is that likely to happen?” Janis squeaks.

“I mean, I’d probably pin you to a more secluded wall, but there’s always a chance that may come up and people will see,” Cady says.

Janis ponders this. Cady prepared for every eventuality before even meeting Janis, she supposes there’s a few Janis herself should prepare for as well. “That makes sense, I guess. Maybe, like… we could have a signal, or something. Just so either of us can have a bit of warning before anything, er… intense? But just, like, regular kisses and things I think I’ll be alright being surprised with.”

“A signal may be a good idea,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “How about this? One signal for… erm… naughty things. And one if either of us needs to be removed from public view or discuss something privately with the other?”

“Okay,” Janis nods. “What do you think they should be? I don’t really know what would be a good thing to do. What would be obvious, and everything.”

“Um… maybe a wink, for… you know? If we do it right, that won’t be particularly noticeable. Do you have any nervous habits? We should avoid those.”

“Um… I guess I wring my hands a lot? And I move my lips, but I don’t think I have anything else,” Janis says. “I’ve never really had to pay much attention to stuff like that before, though, so I’m not sure.”

“I tap my fingers, so we mustn’t do anything with that,” Cady hums, crossing her arms and tightening her jaw in thought.

“We both have pierced ears,” Janis says. “If we need to talk we could adjust our earrings. Or tug on an ear, or something.”

“Yes, that’s brilliant!” Cady says, eyes ablaze with delight. “Alright, that’s handled. Now kiss me.”

“What?” Janis yelps.

“People will be able to tell if we kiss for the first time in front of them. Even my parents,” Cady says. “We should get the first out of the way now to get any awkwardness about it out of our systems.”

“Oh. Yeah, uh… okay,” Janis says. “Do you wanna… or should I…?”

“Uhm… do you… want?”

“I’m fine either way,” Janis mumbles awkwardly.

“Oh, to hell with it,” Cady breathes. Janis’ eyes widen briefly as she suddenly winds her arms around Janis’ shoulders and smashes their lips together. Janis squeaks softly upon first contact, but tries to reciprocate. She needs practice, and all.

It’s not a bad kiss, either. Cady’s very clearly inexperienced, which makes sense. She probably hasn’t had a huge amount of opportunities to make out with people in her lifetime, being a billionaire and all. Janis pointedly does not let her bring tongue into their first kiss, and Cady seems to calm down slightly after that.

Eventually, they fade into a sort of rhythm. Push and pull. Cady starts following Janis’ lead. Janis reads Cady’s responses and adjusts accordingly.

Janis almost regrets having to breathe when they’re forced to pull apart.

“Okay, yeah, um… that’ll… that’ll work,” Cady says, strangely flushed.

“Good,” Janis squeaks.

Cady clears her throat and looks out the window, running her hands through her red curls to smooth them down and adjusting her pantsuit back to where it’s meant to be. “We’ll be there in a few minutes, do you have anything else you wish to know or discuss?”

“Um…” Janis hums pensively. The book covered almost everything. “Do people know that I’m… uh…”

“They’re expecting a woman, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Cady says. Janis nods. “I came out in high school, so everyone’s known I’m queer for years. And I told my family that I’d be bringing my girlfriend for the holidays this year, so they’re expecting you. I was hoping people would focus on that instead of the fact you’re poor.”

“Thanks,” Janis says, grumbling internally. She’s not poor. She’s just… admit it, you’re broke. “Do they not know I’m… not rich?”

“That they don’t know about,” Cady says. “I’d suggest you start learning to tune people out. My parents are going to judge us quite harshly, and my mother will probably say her judgements right to your face.”

“Eh, I’ve heard all the judgements before, it’ll be nothing new,” Janis shrugs. “People always have stuff to say about my makeup and clothes and tattoos and stuff.”

“I’d still brace yourself. Things sting in a different way coming from my mother,” Cady sighs. Janis frowns as Cady seems to start bracing herself too.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Cady blatantly lies. She’s good. Janis almost can’t tell, but there’s an even stronger tension in her shoulders and her jaw is clenched even tighter than normal. “Thank you.”

“Mmhmm,” Janis hums.

They’re silent for the rest of the drive, looking out their respective windows at the landscape going by. Janis thinks they must be here when they pass through an ornate gate, complete with a person in a little box who comes out to let them in.

But they keep going. And going, and going, and going. The road is thin and winding, but long as anything. Uphill, downhill. There’s a bridge at one point over what looks to be a very deep crevasse. Fun.

Eventually, they come to a stop. Janis jumps a bit, having zoned out for most of the drive up, and undoes her seatbelt. The driver opens the door for her, and she climbs out of the car.

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers when she sees the place. It’s absolutely huge. It could easily house a hundred people or more. “This place looks like a hotel.”

“Oh, it is,” Cady says, coming up next to her. “My family owns several. We stay at a different one every year for the holidays. I had to talk them out of the one in Switzerland this year.”

“Jesus,” Janis says softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Just wait until you see the inside,” Cady grins. “Ready?”

Janis looks between Cady’s small smile and her outstretched hand. She takes it with a nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Cady heads up to the front door; about twice as tall as Janis and roughly eight times as wide. She wonders if the doorbell Cady rings is made of real gold or just plated.

A maid opens the door after a few seconds. “Hello, Miss Heron.”

“Hi, um…”

“Claire, miss,” the maid replies.

“Hi, Claire,” Cady says.

“Please come in. I’ll let your parents know you’ve arrived,” Claire says. She leaves them in the extravagant foyer. Janis turns around to look at everything.

Two sets of marble staircases lead upwards against either wall of the very large room. The ceilings are easily thirty feet high, met by elegant ivory walls and decorated with gold and diamond chandeliers. The rug for them to leave their dirty outdoor shoes on is a deep, rich red, covering a pristine floor tiled in yet more marble.

It’s been precisely decorated, too. Garlands and white lights are wrapped around the railings to each staircase, and elegant silver snowflakes hang from the chandeliers. There’s a few family photos on the walls. If this is actually a hotel, Janis has a hard time believing they’re there all year round. They must’ve been brought in especially for the family’s stay.

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers again. She jumps as a butler suddenly comes up.

“Madam Heron, a pleasure to see you again. May I take your coats?”

“Yes, thank you… um…”

“Simon, ma’am,” the butler says politely.

“Thank you, Simon,” Cady says. She hands him their coats and waves him off with a hand. He shuts the front door behind them and goes off to hang them somewhere Janis can’t see.

Claire makes a return then. “If you’ll follow me, Miss Heron, and your guest. Your parents are expecting you in the parlor.”

Cady takes Janis’ hand again as they follow the maid through the winding hallways of the mansion. Eventually they make it to the back side, and Janis has to hold back a gasp.

A majority of the lower floor of this half of the house is one large room, clearly used to hold dances or parties or other fancy events. The back wall is almost entirely glass; practically floor to ceiling. Janis looks through it to see the mountains a ways in the distance and the lake much closer. It’s all very beautiful covered in snow and ice.

They keep walking until they reach an only slightly smaller room. Janis wonders if this is the rich people’s version of a living room or family room.

Claire opens the doors and leaves them with a polite bow. Cady sighs softly and squeezes Janis’ hand, seemingly without realizing.

“Hello, father, hello, mother,” she says. Two figures who were chatting animatedly but quietly in the corner suddenly stop and look in their direction.

“Cady! So good to see you, dear, how was your flight?” the woman says. Cady’s mother.

“It was fine, thank you Mother,” Cady replies, tone perfectly even. Janis doesn’t like this Cady. She sounds almost robotic, speaking that way, and she’s certainly tense enough to be. “How are the preparations for the party coming?”

“As they always do,” her mother says.

“Hello, daughter,” Cady’s father says, pulling Cady into the stiffest hug Janis has ever been privy to witness. “How has your work been going?”

“I spoke of it to you on the phone yesterday, Father,” Cady says. “The status hasn’t changed since then.”

“Oh, yes, you did, didn’t you? Well, it matters not,” her father replies. Cady bristles at that. Janis squeezes her hand gently, not knowing what else to do. Cady’s father looks at her, suddenly, and Janis rapidly understands why Cady is so tense. God, that’s scary. “May we help you?”

“Um…”

“Mother, Father,” Cady says before Janis is forced to say anything.

“This is Janis Sarkisian. My girlfriend.”

Absolute silence. Janis thinks she could hear someone drop a pin on the other end of the house. Cady’s parents scan her like something out of The Incredibles, scrutinizing every detail from head to toe. Janis tried to pick a nice outfit to wear on the flight. Dark jeans without holes, her classiest boots, and a soft cream colored sweater. The sweater is Damian’s, which they seem to take issue with. Among other things.

“Hello, Janet,” Cady’s mother says after several minutes of silent staring. “Cady, might we speak with you for a moment?”

“Yes, Mother,” Cady says. Nobody moves.

“Alone, dear?”

“Oh. Yes,” Cady says. She lets go of Janis’ hand and follows her parents to the far corner of the room. Janis turns around to look at everything in this room. More family portraits on the walls.

They aren’t smiling in any of them. Except one. Five young boys in matching dapper suits with red ties sit in a perfect row side by side, posture perfect even in the youngest who’s clearly no older than four.

But in the very middle sits a tiny, chubby baby; with a wide toothless smile, precious freckles on her chubby cheeks, and fiery red hair to compliment her elegant green dress. Cady.

Janis can overhear bits and pieces of the conversation Cady’s in the middle of with her parents. She looks over without actually turning around, just out of the corner of her eye. Cady is standing a good six feet away from her parents and anxiously tapping her fingers against her arm as they’re folded protectively over her chest.

The words “unacceptable” and “peasant” come up a few times in rapid succession from the mouth of Cady’s mother, paired with burning glares in Janis’ direction. “Heathen” and “dangerous” also come up a few times, along with a hissed, “she’ll frighten the children!” which is a first. Janis quietly delights in the unintentional compliment.

Cady seems to be defending her; much more softly but with just as much intensity behind her words. Janis hears her spit, “You have no idea who she really is. Give her a chance.”

Cady tugs gently on her ear then, looking to Janis out of the corner of her eye. It’s not quite the circumstance she thought they’d be using their signal in, but Janis can understand why she is. It won’t make Cady’s parents like her, but saving Cady is worth it.

“Should I take our bags to our room?” Janis asks, coming up behind Cady and kissing her cheek. Sure enough, Cady’s parents both look quite miffed with her for interrupting their very important discussion.

“Oh, don’t be silly, baby, we have people for that,” Cady replies, resting a warm hand against Janis’ cheek and kissing her jaw in return. Janis feels her heart flutter the slightest bit at the pet name. Stop it, this is fake.

“Oh, right,” Janis says. “I forgot. Not used to… actually being in your world.”

“How quaint,” Cady’s father says curtly. “The two of you may go get settled in. Cady, we expect you to join us for dinner.”

“Yes, father,” Cady says quietly. She takes Janis’ hand again to lead her out of the room. “Come on.”

“Are they always like that?” Janis whispers as Cady leads her to the… elevator?!

“Yep,” Cady sighs. “Fronting as a caring family, frigid behind the scenes.”

“Nice,” Janis says. “Is the rest of your family already here?”

“No,” Cady says, leaning against the elevator wall and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not sure of your background, or if you… come from a large family or anything. My parents can be overwhelming enough, and the house is a lot in and of itself. I wanted to be sure you’d have time to acclimate before throwing you into the den with my entire family.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Janis says. Cady just nods and taps her fingers against her elbow.

“Here we are,” she says when the doors open with the fanciest ding Janis thinks she’s ever heard. “This way.”

Janis runs out after her, following Cady at her very brisk pace down the hall.

“My brothers will start arriving at… I’m not sure, but some point next week with their families. I trust you checked the binder?”

“Yeah, I did. Memorized as much of it as I could.”

“Really?” Cady asks, turning briefly to look at her over her shoulder. “I’m impressed. That was quite dense.”

“Yeah, I, er… did my best.”

“Anything will be appreciated, I’m sure. Anyway. My brothers always spend at least a few days with us for the holidays, but we’ll be here by far the longest. So you have all the time you could want to enjoy the area. And my grandparents will probably arrive as close to Christmas day as possible. Beyond that, it’s just going to be us and my parents for quite a while.”

“Sounds nice,” Janis says. “And when are we expected to be, like, in public together?”

“As soon as possible,” Cady sighs. “Here’s our room.”

“Holy shit,” Janis whispers.

“Are you going to say that every time I show you something?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Well, I’m glad I know that now,” Cady says with a faint chuckle. She heads over and falls backwards onto the bed. “We should try to do something public tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. The media’s probably already buzzing about you at the airport. We need to be seen together in person before too long.”

“Where will we go?” Janis asks. Cady pulls herself back to a sitting position and folds her hands against her knees.

“Wherever you want,” she says with a small smile.

——-

Janis is awake and presentable bright and early the next morning per Cady’s brief. To be fair, it’s ten in the morning, but that’s still early by Janis’ vacation standards.

“Morning,” Cady says when Janis walks into the dining room in hopes of some breakfast. “You took a while.”

“I got lost,” Janis says sheepishly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cady says frantically. “I should’ve waited with you, I didn’t even think of that.”

“No, no, it’s totally fine. One of the butlers saved me. Your second parlor is really nice, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Cady says, smiling at her oddly. “I’m sure you saw some of the photos, then?”

“I did,” Janis nods. “You’re the only redhead?”

Cady nods, tugging subconsciously on her auburn curls. Cady’s parents, and all her brothers, have dark blonde hair. Cady’s brownish-red hair is a stark contrast, to say the least.

“I am. My paternal grandmother was a redhead too,” Cady sighs. “I hated it when I was young. And I went blonde for a time in high school, if you can believe that.”

“Really?” Janis chuckles. “Why?”

“It was… just how it went,” Cady says quietly. Janis gets the sense she shouldn’t press this further. It’s clearly an uncomfortable memory for Cady. “Bleaching it did so much damage. I’ve only just gotten it grown out to an acceptable length.”

“What’s an acceptable length?” Janis asks.

“This, basically,” Cady says with a shrug. “According to my mother I look uncivilized if I have it too much longer and like a heathen if it’s any shorter.”

“Your mother seems really judgmental.”

“It… comes from a place of love,” Cady replies. “She wants the best for me and the best of me.”

“Well, if her reaction yesterday was anything to go by, I’m clearly not that.”

“And that’s exactly the point,” Cady says with a mischievous smile. Janis smiles back.

It’s quiet for a bit. Neither of them quite know what to say to each other now. Janis stares at the empty place on the huge wooden table in front of her, as if staring hard enough will materialize some breakfast before her eyes. To be fair, it seems a likely possibility in this house.

“So, um… no family breakfasts?” Janis says awkwardly.

“Oh, heavens, no,” Cady says. “Everyone’s much too busy for that. Dinners are a must, but beyond that we simply eat meals whenever we have the time to. Oh, speaking of which, what would you like? The chefs will prepare you anything you could want. And if we don’t have something, we’ll send someone to fetch it.”

“Anything?” Janis questions.

“Anything,” Cady confirms.

“So… if I wanted… scrambled eggs but made with eggs from Japan?” Janis asks.

“We’d send word to Japan,” Cady says with a nod. “Do… is that what you want?”

Janis almost says yes, just to see how that would work. In actuality, she says, “No, no, I was just curious. Um… normal… American scrambled eggs would be fine, though.”

“American scrambled eggs it is,” Cady says. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks. I’m not really a big eater in the mornings,” Janis says. “Wait, is it… should I just eat what you had? I don’t want the cooks to have to make something special for me.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Cady says. “It’s what they’re paid to do. And I didn’t eat breakfast, anyway.”

“You didn’t?”

“I seldom do, I get so distracted,” Cady sighs. “Eggs do sound quite nice, though, I might have to request a portion of my own.”

“How do they know what to make?” Janis asks.

“I’ll just put an order in,” Cady says like it’s obvious. Janis frowns in confusion. “To the app?”

“You have an app?”

“Yes, of course,” Cady says. “My brother, Clark, is quite good with programming and computers and such. So he designed an app for the servants. My mother even uses it. Much more dignified and easy to manage than yelling across the mansion, or… I don’t know, using bells or whistles or something.”

“That’s cool. I kinda would’ve thought whistles would be more your mother’s speed,” Janis says.

“Oh, they were for years. Have you ever seen The Sound of Music?” Cady says.

“She did not,” Janis says, jaw dropping. She has seen that movie. Damian made her watch it before he recreated the entire thing in a one man show just for her. Janis stopped letting him have white wine after that.

“She did! We all had signals,” Cady says with a quiet giggle. “Anyway. Do you have any food allergies? The kitchens will sanitize everything to ensure you get a safe meal.”

“Um… no, I’m just lactose intolerant. But I can handle milk in small doses, so… no need to sanitize just for me,” Janis says.

“Are you sure? It’s a lengthy process, but there’s other kitchens on the premises. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Cady says.

“I’m sure. As long as I don’t, like, eat a block of cheese or pint of ice cream I’ll be fine,” Janis says.

“Alrighty then,” Cady says, pulling out her phone and entering the order. “Two scrambled eggs with no dairy. Anything to drink?”

“Water is fine, thank you,” Janis says softly. She’s not in a restaurant, but it’s too similar for her to feel comfortable ordering anything but water.

“And two waters. Coming right up,” Cady says.

“That’s really cool,” Janis says, peeking at Cady’s screen. “Your brother designed this himself?”

“Yep. Clark’s never been one to accept much in the way of help with his work. He doesn’t care for our father’s business, but he’s done wonderfully with his own freelancing,” Cady says, clearly very proud of her big brother. “He designed these for use when the hotels are actually in service as hotels, but they’re still quite useful for our stays. All I have to do is say what room in the house I’d like a dish or item brought to and then wait.”

“Sounds handy,” Janis says. Cady nods.

“It is, quite. Anyway, it’ll be… er, about ten minutes,” she says. Janis nods. Cady nods back, and they’re back to silence.

Breakfast is more than a bit awkward. Janis compliments the food, Cady smiles. Beyond that, they say nothing.

“Oh, hey, um…” Janis says as she takes her last bite. Cady looks up from her phone expectantly. Janis drops her voice to a whisper, just to be safe. “How many people know about this?”

“Oh,” Cady says. “You and I. My drivers, my security guards, and my lawyers.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. It would be unbelievable if many more people than that had to keep our secret. But they’ll be the people closest to us, so I figured that would make things easier on us. Less… paranoia, I suppose.”

“Makes sense. Um, I’m ready to go. If you are,” Janis says.

“Are you sure?” Cady says. “Forgive me for saying so, but I’m not absolutely convinced you’re aware what you’ll be getting into once we leave the property.”

“I know I’ll have to watch everything I say and everything I do and that I should expect at least ten sets of eyes on me at all times,” Janis says, quoting from the binder almost word for word. “And I know I’m expected to act like I’m in love with you but not too much so it’s still realistic.”

“Okay, I seem to have underestimated you,” Cady chuckles. “You really did memorize it?”

“As much as I could,” Janis nods back with a smirk.

“Nicely done,” Cady says softly. “Then I suppose we should go.”

“My lady,” Janis says sarcastically, offering Cady one of her arms to hold onto.

“Oh, don’t you start. And I should be leading you, Miss Got Lost Half an Hour Ago.”

“Fair enough.”

—————-

“So have you given any thought as to where you’d like to go?” Cady asks as they watch the landscape shift from isolated mansion to populated suburb to cute little downtown area.

“Not really. I don’t really know what’s around,” Janis says. “But… it would be fun to go somewhere you’ve never been before.”

“That impish look scares me,” Cady says.

“Nowhere dangerous. But you don’t seem like you’ve been much of anywhere around this place, quite frankly.”

“I haven’t,” Cady acknowledges. “Shall we just drive around until we find something?”

“That’ll work,” Janis nods.

They both settle in and look out their respective windows, on a hunt for an acceptable Christmassy date destination. Cady’s driver takes them through the winding back roads of the neighborhoods.

“Oh,” Cady gasps suddenly. “What is that?”

“A Christmas market?” Janis says, leaning over to look out Cady’s window.

“How sweet,” Cady says. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Janis agrees. “Should we go there?”

“I suppose it’s as good a place as any,” Cady says. “Lots of people.”

“Yeah,” Janis acknowledges around a lump in her throat. She did know in theory what she was getting into, but the reality of being seen in public with Cady is setting in now. There are a lot of people at the market. Couples, families, people running various booths, single people doing some Christmas shopping at the quaint little stalls. All of it makes for quite a crowd that has Janis shaking in her snow boots.

She has no more time to prepare as Cady climbs out of the car and starts slowly walking towards the market. She pauses after about three feet and turns to look at Janis.

“Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm,” Janis hums, nodding frantically. “Yeah, I-I’m good.”

Cady tenderly picks a bit of lint off Janis’ shoulder before she takes and squeezes her hand. “You’ll be fine, I promise. It’s overwhelming the first few times, but after a while you hardly notice it.”

“I’m more worried about what the media is gonna have to say about me,” Janis says. “They’ll probably think I’m corrupting you or something.”

“Some probably will,” Cady agrees bluntly. “But… you know what is true and what isn’t. As long as you believe that, that’s all that ever truly matters.”

“That’s deep,” Janis says, trying to lighten the mood.

“These people do not actually matter in the slightest, I promise you,” Cady says, slowly continuing their walk over. “You’ll be but a passing trend.”

“That does help,” Janis says.

“Just try to enjoy yourself,” Cady says. “This is just a normal date.”

“Date,” Janis squeaks. “Right.”

Eventually, they’re standing smack in the middle of the center. There’s loads of shopping booths selling all sorts of holiday-related trinkets and food and other goodies to the right, a Santa for the kids to meet straight ahead, and even a few activities like ice skating and an ice slide to the left.

“That tree is huge,” Janis says in awe.

“It is,” Cady says. “It could rival the ones my mother has brought in every year. It’s beautiful.”

They stand and admire the very large Christmas tree for a few moments longer before they start walking over to see what the booths have for sale.

“Oh, these little Santas are darling,” Cady says when they walk past one selling little china figurines. “My mother collects Santa figures.”

“Really?” Janis chuckles.

“Mmhmm. She has hundreds, from everywhere,” Cady says, picking up one with a blue coat covered in snow. “Do you make these?”

“Uh… y-yeah,” the stall attendant says, blinking at Cady in awe. “Um- my-my grandmother and I do. Spend the year making them to sell here.”

“They’re so cheap!” Cady says. “You should charge more for your handiwork!”

“I-I… we… we only charge what we need to turn a profit, ma’am,” the teenage boy says.

“Well, that’s no way to run a business,” Cady scoffs. “What are your markups-”

“We’ll take this one, please,” Janis interrupts before Cady can interrogate the poor kid about his entire business practice. He nods frantically and carefully wraps it in bubble wrap so it won’t break. “Thank you. Merry Christmas.”

Cady protests as Janis drags her away from the booth. “Hey! I was just trying to-”

“Cady, he clearly is not doing this for the money,” Janis says. “He’s doing it to get reactions like the one you had when you saw the figurine. To make people happy, and to do something with his grandmother to bring in a bit of extra money for his family. He doesn’t need you explaining how to turn it into a multi-million dollar Santa Claus making empire.”

“But he really could take it so much further if he just-”

“Cady, listen, I respect you a lot,” Janis says. “But I also have the perspective of a normal person. They don’t want business talk, okay? They want you to say something nice about what they sell and buy something, maybe chat for a bit, and move on.”

“Was I rude?” Cady asks softly.

“…Yeah, a little,” Janis says. “Your heart is in the right place, but… give the business stuff a rest for Christmas, okay?”

Cady is quiet, but she nods and squeezes her hand. Janis squeezes her back.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Cady says immediately, though she’s still looking pointedly at her boots trudging through the thin layer of snow on the brick path. “When you find somewhere natural to, kiss me.”

“What?” Janis laughs.

“Don’t look, but someone to our left and a bit ahead is filming,” Cady says. Janis dares to sneak a peak, and sure enough, some passerby has her phone out, shamelessly recording them in broad daylight.

“Jesus,” Janis tuts.

Somewhere natural. Conveniently, one of the strands of lights they pass beneath has mistletoe dangling from it. Janis pretends she’s admiring the snow fluttering down and points to the mistletoe.

Cady smiles and stops in her tracks, grinning up at the plant as she wraps her arms around Janis’ waist and stands on her tippy toes. Janis smiles back and gently cups Cady’s neck in her hands before pulling her into a soft kiss.

Neither of them stop smiling even when their lips meet. Janis picks Cady up and spins her around, making Cady squeal with a laugh. “Jay!”

“Jay, eh?” Janis whispers, kissing her again. She leans in to whisper in Cady’s ear. “Should I act like I don’t want to be doing this so it makes more sense when we break up?”

Cady smiles like she’s just whispered something sweet into her ear and leans in to whisper to Janis. “No, we’ll just say you weren’t ready for the commitment.”

“Oh, great,” Janis chuckles as Cady kisses her cheek. “Is this enough to appease the masses or should I start licking your ear or something?”

“Please don’t do that under any circumstances,” Cady giggles. “I think we’re good. Paps will start arriving seconds after she posts that video, though.”

“I think I’ll live,” Janis says. She kisses the tip of Cady’s nose for good measure, and Cady kisses her knuckles as they start walking again; looking pointedly at everything except the camera and trying to act like they never noticed it. “Can you always tell when you’re on camera?”

“Just about,” Cady says. “My security taught me tips to look out for, so now I can almost always pick out who in a crowd is either already or going to start taking photos or recording. It’s just something you come to expect after long enough.”

“Sounds like it would get old pretty quick,” Janis says sadly.

“It does,” Cady agrees. She chuckles slightly, more a loud exhale than much else. “Every time I get dressed in the morning I have to expect billions of people around the world to see it.”

“I’m clearly not used to that,” Janis says.

“No, you look great!” Cady says. “Professional but comfortable. It works for you.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in anything except a suit,” Janis chuckles.

“Hey, they always match and they always have the professionalism I should,” Cady says. “I like my suits.”

“I like them too,” Janis says. “It’s just nice to see you in something else.”

“I am much more comfortable,” Cady chuckles. “Pantsuits are itchier than you’d think.”

“I can imagine,” Janis replies. “They… er, suit you, though. So to speak.”

“Thank you,” Cady giggles. “God, this place is lovely. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before.”

“It is really cute,” Janis says. “I’m not usually a fan of stuff like this, but this is really nice.”

“Not usually?” Cady asks.

“I’m not really a huge Christmas person,” Janis shrugs. “Something like this probably would’ve made me nauseous in high school.”

“Really?” Cady giggles. “What’s different about this one, then?”

“…I’m not sure.”

“The company?” Cady teases, knocking gently against her side. Janis turns to look at her with a smile.

“Nah, I think this one just has a better smell.”

Cady gasps indignantly. “How rude!”

“I’m teasing,” Janis chuckles. “Better get used to that.”

“Hmph.”

“Oh, come on,” Janis pleads. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“What are you- oh, what is that smell?” Cady says, all her anger fading as soon as she gets a whiff of warm cider and cookies.

“Hi,” Janis greets. “Two ciders and… what kind of cookies do you like, Caddy?”

“They all smell so nice,” Cady says.

“Thank you, Miss Heron,” the woman behind the booth says. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Oh, please,” Cady says with a smile. “I’m just as honored to meet you, I’m sure.”

“Much better,” Janis whispers in her ear. She chases it with a kiss on the cheek so it looks natural. “Have you ever had a snickerdoodle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a kind of cookie, baby,” Janis chuckles. “Do you have samples?”

“Oh! Oh, um… for you, of course,” the woman says.

“Oh, no, we’ll pay for it,” Cady says immediately.

“No, no,” she says.

“We insist,” Cady says.

“And I’m paying, I don’t mind,” Janis chuckles.

“What? No you aren’t,” Cady says.

“Try me.”

“I’m the billionaire here, honey.”

“And what are people going to say if you don’t let me pay for anything? They don’t know our history, they’ll just think I’m some random person you found on the sidewalk who’s after your money!”

“You might as well be,” Cady says teasingly.

“How long have y’all been together, if I may?” the woman asks as she hands Janis a snickerdoodle.

“Going on three years,” Janis says with a smile. She takes the cookie and pinches off a chunk to give to Cady.

“How sweet. Y’all are just darling,” the woman says.

“Oh my god,” Cady says in awe. “This is delicious!”

“I told you,” Janis chuckles. “And thanks.” she says to the woman. “Two?”

Cady nods eagerly. “How much for the lot?”

“Hm?” the woman replies squeakily.

“My family would love these, how much would it be for all of them?” Cady insists. “And do you have a permanent shop somewhere? I’ll have to mention you to my father.”

The woman looks to Janis in shock, seeming to check if Cady’s being serious. Janis has no idea, and shrugs.

“Um… we sell the cookies for two dollars apiece, so… call it a hundred for… all of them?” the woman says hesitantly.

Janis hands over ten to cover their ciders and cookies, and Cady forks over five hundred.

“Oh, there’s too much-”

“Nonsense. Use the rest on your family if you’d like, or yourself. Maybe make some more of these. Did you say you have a shop?”

“Yes, I-I have a bakery with my daughter-in-law,” the woman replies. “On seventh street. Caroline’s Cookies.”

“I’ll pass along my recommendations,” Cady says. The woman looks around, seeming quite flustered, before she just pulls the entire tray out of their warming bin and offers it to her. Cady motions one of her guards over. “Take this back to the car, please. And feel free to have one if you’d like, they’re quite delicious. Thank you, ma’am. Merry Christmas.”

“Um… Merry Christmas to you as well,” the woman says, waving in confusion as Cady and Janis pick up their more reasonably sized portions of cookie and drink and head off to continue browsing.

“Caddy?” Cady asks as soon as they’re out of earshot of anybody.

“Yeah. No offense, but your name is spelled weird,” Janis says.

“None taken,” Cady says. “My parents were very committed to us all having the same initials.”

“I can tell,” Janis chuckles. “It’s cute, though. But, yeah. You’re Caddy now.”

“I like it,” Cady grins. Janis smiles back until Cady suddenly turns to her in a panic. “Oh, back there, that wasn’t rude as well?!”

“No, no,” Janis says soothingly. “Bit… odd, maybe, but not rude. If you’re gonna do anything to a small business owner, buying their entire stock of something is probably the best option.”

“They’re so good,” Cady says around a mouthful of cookie. “Oh, dear, I know that’s rude. Excuse me.”

“Nah,” Janis chuckles. “Would almost be endearing if it wasn’t gross.”

Cady laughs under her breath as she continues chewing, swallowing before she speaks this time. “Everything here is… amazing. And to think I never even knew it existed until today.”

“Sometimes you just gotta stop and smell the Christmas trees,” Janis shrugs. “Lucky we found it.”

“Lucky indeed,” Cady says. “And the Christmas trees smell wonderful.”

“They do,” Janis agrees. “Kinda makes me want a real tree.”

“You have an artificial one, then?” Cady asks as they wind their way through the rows of Christmas trees for sale by a local tree farm.

“Yeah. Damian and I decided a real one was too much effort for us. And it’s cheaper to just get one that’ll last a few years than blow a bunch of money on a real one that’ll just die in a month anyway.”

“Damian?” Cady asks. Janis looks at her when she hears a slight panic in her tone. “You’re… in a relationship?!”

“No! No,” Janis says immediately. “God, no. He’s just my roommate. He’s too gay to function. And… obviously gay in the wrong direction.”

“Oh,” Cady breathes. “God, I didn’t even think to check that.”

“Well, now you know for next time,” Janis jokes. Cady glares at her. “And… for the record, there hasn’t been anyone.”

“Ever?”

Janis shakes her head. “I was always kind of off-beat in school, so I didn’t have many friends in the first place. And then I made the mistake of coming out when I was in eighth grade, and then I didn’t have any friends at all. So I never really had the opportunity. I had a couple flings in college, but nothing serious. And now I work too much to really have time.”

“Oh,” Cady says.

“What about you? If I may ask,” Janis asks softly. They’ve made sure to whisper any sensitive information, but she’s still paranoid about someone listening in. That woman filming them without a care in the world has really thrown her off her rhythm.

“I’ve never really had much chance either,” Cady says. “Couple brief things here and there, and one girlfriend in high school. There’s more booths this way.”

Well, that’s just about the best non-answer Janis has ever gotten. She decides not to press any further and follows Cady along to look at some more little trinket stalls.

“Do you collect anything?” Janis asks. “Like your mother?”

“…Yes,” Cady says quietly, almost like she’s embarrassed. “I collect snow globes.”

“That’s cute,” Janis says. Cady shrugs.

“Do you have any collections?”

“Not… really,” Janis says. “Um… I collected state quarters in middle school, I still have my special map in my mom’s attic somewhere. Paintbrushes, I guess. I keep all of them even when I can’t use them anymore.”

“You paint?” Cady asks softly, looking at her curiously. Janis nods and swings their interlocked hands between them slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Just yeah?”

“No,” Janis sighs. “I just… after I came out I was bullied, like, pretty severely. Everyone called me a space dyke because some kid asked me what I was one day and all I could think of was to say I was a space alien with four butts.”

“Clever.”

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “Needless to say, it didn’t go over very well. I got pulled out of school after a while and put into art therapy. So… that’s where painting started for me.”

Cady hums sadly. “Are you any good?”

“I like to think so,” Janis says. “Not good enough to make anything off it, though.”

“So that’s why you work at the café?” Cady asks. Janis nods. “Hm.”

“Why were you there?” Janis asks. “When we… um… met.”

“I’m currently working for my father,” Cady says. “All of us have. When we graduate from university, or… reach a certain age, in Clark’s case, our first job is working for him. It’s helpful to learn business strategies and how to manage things, as well as working skills in case we don’t launch our own billion-dollar enterprises someday. We do that for a year and then we’re left to our own devices.

“And he owns the café, among other businesses in the city. So he sent me along to check up on things and make sure everything was up to our standards.”

“Was it?”

“Well, there was a certain employee I mentioned among a few strong words,” Cady hums. “But I appear to have judged her too quickly.”

“She did the same,” Janis says softly.

“Did she?” Cady asks. “Hm. We’re being followed, by the way.”

“How do you-”

“Security gave me a signal, it’s not me being a mind reader. I can’t see backwards,” Cady giggles. “It’s nobody dangerous, this time, just some paparazzi.”

“This time?”

“Oh, yeah. I only have security because I was kidnapped when I was seven,” Cady says like that’s perfectly normal. “We all do, now. My father’s had a few close calls with assassination attempts and such.”

“You were kidnapped?!”

“Only for a while. They actually treated me remarkably well,” Cady says. “I had more candy in those four hours than I’d had in my entire life previously, it was awesome. People are desperate, sometimes. Ransom is a good, quick way to earn money. They knew my father had a lot.”

“So your father just paid them off?” Janis asks in shock.

“Oh, heavens, no! No, of course not,” Cady chuckles. “He just called the secret service and they handled it quite quickly.”

“Like… the secret service the president gets?”

“They were friends at the time, it was a personal favor.”

“You should write a book.”

“You should probably kiss me again,” Cady sighs. Janis kisses her mittened knuckles and looks around.

“I have a better idea,” she says, running ahead to the sleigh rides being offered. Cady squeaks in surprise and starts running after her. “How much?”

“Up to you. All we ask is that you make a donation to our animal sanctuary if you think we do a good job,” the sleigh driver replies. “Helps us take good care of the horses and their buddies.”

“And… and the horses are safe?” Cady asks shakily.

“I can assure you they’re very well trained, miss. You’ll have a smooth ride,” he says. “This here is Butterscotch. She’s a little older, so she’ll give you a nice calm trip.”

“Okay,” Cady says softly.

“You wanna go?” Janis asks gently. Cady looks at her, and Janis can see genuine fear in her eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, it’ll be alright.”

“I don’t like horses,” Cady mumbles.

“We don’t have to go,” Janis offers quietly. “If it makes you uncomfortable. But hundreds of people ride these every day and they’re perfectly fine.”

“I want to,” Cady says, a bit bolder. Janis grins and kisses her cheek.

“Good. Hop up,” she says. Cady squeals a bit as she suddenly hoists her up and into the sleigh. Janis hears camera shutters go off a ways away and hopes she doesn’t look too weird lifting Cady practically over her head. Cady pulls her into the sleigh after her and greets her with a sweet kiss as she tosses a blanket over their laps to keep warm.

The driver sets Butterscotch off to a trot. Cady squeals in fright as they start moving, but she calms down as she gets used to it.

“So… does it say anywhere in those contracts that we can’t get to know each other?” Janis asks after a while.

Cady looks at her oddly. “Surely you already know everything about me you’d want to.”

“I don’t,” Janis replies. “Oh, hey. C’mere.”

“What?”

“Just in case,” Janis says. “You said the paparazzi are after us.” Cady still looks confused, but she does rest willingly against Janis’ shoulder. “And… now nobody but us can hear what we’re saying.”

“Smart,” Cady says. She gently laces their fingers together and smiles down at their hands. “Now seriously, there can’t possibly be anything you don’t already know about me, I put everything…” her tone drops to almost a whisper even though nobody can hear them. “In the book.”

“Yeah, exactly. I know book stuff. I know everything I could’ve found on the internet if I cared enough about billionaires to look you up. I know about your family, and your history, and your business, and what we were talking about earlier. But I don’t really know about you,” Janis says. “And I think if we’re gonna convince people for these three weeks, you should know a couple things about me. But I’m a lot less interesting.”

Cady considers this before she nods gently. “Yeah, alright. Have you ever considered entering my field? You have quite a mind for business.”

“Maybe on the surface,” Janis snorts. “I’m terrible at math, though. I think business has too many numbers for my tastes. And I thought you never wanted to see me again as soon as we’re done here.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Cady giggles. “Not business then. Do you actually make decent coffee?”

“I do,” Janis nods. “Coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Basically the menu at the café, I can do pretty well.”

“Uhhuh. And how much of that is the stock the company purchases?”

“Your father has good taste for his companies. But it takes a skilled hand to be able to turn that into something people can actually drink,” Janis says.

“Really?”

“No,” Janis laughs. “I push buttons on machines and it makes stuff happen.”

“You liar, I was actually starting to believe you!” Cady chuckles back.

“I thought that’s a big business thing, being a good liar?”

“True. You sneak,” Cady giggles.

“I do make good stuff though. Have to make my own at home,” Janis says.

“Hm. Interesting,” Cady hums. “Well, I suppose that was my turn. What do you want to know about me?”

Shit. What does Janis want to know? She wants to know about Cady, but… what about her?

“Janis?”

“Sorry, I’m thinking,” Janis says. “Um… what’s- uh… your… favorite shape?”

“My favorite shape?” Cady chuckles. “What is that gonna tell you about me?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite shape! Now come on, what is it?”

“Circles are nice,” Cady says. “But I think… stars? I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it before.”

“Stars are pretty good,” Janis nods.

“So… what does that tell you about me?”

“That you… like… stars.”

Cady rolls her eyes. “Brilliant.”

“Well, look, it’s a lot of pressure! Not every day you get to talk to a billionaire one on one!”

“Just pray you never become an interviewer,” Cady replies. “I will answer anything within reason. You have signed an NDA.”

“Anything, huh?”

“Mmhmm. My turn, though,” Cady says. “What’s… something you’d never do no matter how much I offered to pay you?”

“Skydive,” Janis says immediately.

“Really? Not a thrill seeker, then?” Cady hums happily. “I did mean, like, between us, but that’s… good to know, I suppose.”

“Oh! Duh,” Janis says. “I thought you meant, like, in general.”

“No, no, that was a good answer!” Cady says, gently knocking against her. “What else?”

“Hey, that’s two!”

“So you’ll get two, come on.”

“Fine,” Janis huffs. “I won’t… like, do anything that would… hurt. Physically. Like, if you asked me to break my arm or something. Not doing that. And I won’t hurt you. And I wouldn’t… take some mystery drug that might start the apocalypse.”

“What?!”

“I dunno what you billionaires get up to in your free time,” Janis says immediately.

“You think the apocalypse would start with a drug? And that I have it?”

“I don’t know, it could happen!” Janis defends.

“You’re very strange,” Cady hums.

“Says you.”

“And rude.”

Janis just raises an eyebrow. Cady huffs and turns the other way, but she’s still firmly tucked against Janis’ side. “My turn?”

“If you must,” Cady grumbles crankily.

“What makes you smile?” Janis asks softly. Cady tips her head up to look at her.

“Smile?”

“Yeah,” Janis confirms. “I wanna know what kinds of things make you happy.”

“Why?”

“Because heaven forbid I care about you the slightest little bit over the next few weeks,” Janis teases. “I should at least know a couple things so I can do them. Make this seem realistic and everything.”

“Oh.” Cady says softly. “Um…”

Janis feels her heart pang the slightest bit as Cady genuinely has to think about her answer. The slight hurt only grows with every second that ticks by.

“My nieces and nephews,” Cady says eventually. “Always make me smile. And… most of my brothers and sisters-in-law. And I watch videos of animals that are best friends when I get sad.”

“Oh, yeah?” Janis chuckles. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“There’s a… cheetah and a golden retriever,” Cady mumbles sheepishly. “They grew up together.”

“That’s cute,” Janis says softly. “Anything else?”

“I like to eat. I usually smile then,” Cady says. “And I… I don’t know, beyond that.”

“Well, we’ll just have to find some stuff, then.”

“Yes, I suppose we will. My turn.”

“Hey, I get two questions!”

“And you did. If you want to get technical, you got three,” Cady says. “You asked what makes me smile, what video was my favorite, and then if I had any other things.”

“Fine,” Janis pouts. “Ask away.”

“Tell me about… erm… the friend of yours you mentioned earlier,” Cady says.

“Damian?”

“Yes, him,” Cady agrees in such a tone that Janis knows she immediately forgot his name.

“Okay. I met him when I was in first grade,” Janis says. “I broke his nose.”

“You what?!”

“He said girls couldn’t punch. I just proved him wrong,” Janis shrugs. “We were best friends after that. We grew up together. A couple other friends came and went for us, but he was always the one I could count on. When we got older we’d always be each other’s beards when we needed one and stuff. Our parents say we’re platonic soulmates.”

“And you’re both queer?” Cady asks gently.

“Yeah. I’m a lesbian and he’s the gayest man to ever walk the face of the Earth,” Janis chuckles.

“Have you told him about this?” Cady asks. Janis tenses. Will Cady take legal action if she tells the truth? She did sign that nondisclosure agreement. But lying to Cady can’t be a good thing to do either. “It’s alright if you have. If you trust him I suppose I have to as well. And if need comes we can have him sign an NDA too.”

“He’s trustworthy. He does talk too much, but he knows not to tell anyone about this,” Janis says. “We tell each other everything, I had to. And he absolutely loves your family, by the way.”

“He does?” Cady asks, looking up at her.

“I think you’re more important to him than the Kardashians, and that’s saying a hell of a lot,” Janis says. Cady laughs. “He reads all the news stories and watches all your interviews and stuff. You’re definitely his favorite. You can do no wrong in his eyes.”

“Really?” Cady asks. “The news and interviews I’ve done don’t exactly portray me in a positive light.”

“And he is beyond pissed about that,” Janis says. “Every time something new comes out that makes you look bad I’m subjected to him ranting about it while I try to do my job. He’s gone for an entire shift more than once.”

“Maybe I should have asked him to do this instead, then,” Cady says with a small smile.

“He would’ve for your sake,” Janis snorts. “I told him I’d try to get your autograph for his Christmas present.”

“He sounds lovely,” Cady says. “Might need more than an autograph.”

“He can be lovely when he wants to. Most of the time he’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Do you talk about all your friends so kindly?” Cady asks teasingly.

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “It’s how I show affection.”

“Hm,” Cady hums. They both startle a bit when they suddenly come to a stop. They look up to see that they’ve finished their allotted loop around the downtown area already. “Oh, it’s over.”

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Janis says, loud enough for the driver to hear her now. “Come on, we should finish shopping and head home.”

Janis climbs out of the sleigh first, and gently picks Cady out after her. She gives her a spin and kiss before she sets her gently on her feet.

“Thank you,” Cady says to their driver.

“Not a problem, miss.”

“What is your goal for donations this year?” Cady asks, still making sure to stay well out of the horse’s reach.

“We’re hoping to hit ten thousand over this season, that should get us through the next year,” he replies. “Any amount you can give is appreciated.”

“Mm,” Cady hums pensively. “Let me make a call.”

“Um… okay,” the driver shrugs. Janis watches as Cady steps out of earshot and pulls out her phone. She can just about make out the words ‘ten thousand’ and ‘yes, I’m serious’ from this distance.

“Right,” Cady says as she hangs up and returns. “I obviously can’t give you that much money in person, but we can start with… oh, this,” she says, forking over another huge wad of money. “And someone from my lawyer’s office will be visiting your ranch in the coming days to make sure it’s all up to standards and give you the rest of the money, if that’s alright with you?”

“The… the rest of the ten grand, miss?”

“We’ll call it fifteen for luck, and in case the people here are more stingy than you’re accounting for,” Cady hums. “As long as you’ll use it to keep Butterscotch in the manner to which she’s accustomed.”

“Most of it, absolutely,” the driver says, seeming a bit shaken by what he’s just heard. “A-are you serious, ma’am?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Of course I am,” Cady sighs. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, thank you.”

“M-merry Christmas,” the driver replies, waving back at them as they head back towards the market hand in hand.

“Are you allowed to drop this much money on random strangers?” Janis asks quietly. “This is all adding up really quick.”

“I’m a billionaire, Janis,” Cady chuckles. “What we’ve spent today is just a fraction of what I earn in a month. And to answer your question, I may do whatever I like with it once it crosses from my father’s hand to mine, thank you very much.”

“Alrighty then,” Janis nods.

They continue browsing the booths as they slowly start making their way back to the car. They each pick up a few things. Cady gets a small stack of books from a miniature bookstore and explains they’re all for one of her nieces. Janis picks up a few things she hopes, based on what little information the binder provided her, Cady’s family members will like.

They dodge paparazzi as best as they can in the meantime, trying to make their conversation look more interesting than it actually is and adding in the occasional kiss or small cuddle.

With a bottle of wintery artisan perfume for Janis’ mother, they decide to conclude their shopping for the day.

The driver is waiting for them when they return to the car. He helps them deposit their bags of goodies into the trunk next to the cookies and opens the back door for them to climb in.

“Well, that was satisfactory, I think,” Cady sighs as she pulls off her beanie inside the warm car. “Nicely done.”

It’s almost odd, now, being on the other side of the large car from Cady after spending hours practically glued to her side. Or her lips.

“Thanks,” she replies. “How often do we have to do that?”

“Oh, not very,” Cady replies. “If we do it too often it’ll come across as fake. So… once a week at most, if that.”

“Great,” Janis sighs, slumping down in her seat. It took more out of her than she was expecting.

“You can rest now, if you’d like. I’ll wake you up when we get back.”

“Yes, please and thank you,” Janis hums contently, pulling off her mittens to rest over her eyes and settling in for a short cat nap.

God, being rich is exhausting.

—————

Janis calls Damian when they get back to the… hotel? House? Both.

“You’re such a good actress!” Damian yells as soon as she puts the phone to her ear. She winces a bit at the loud noise directly against her eardrum.

“What?”

“The pictures and stuff from the date you went on!” Damian says. “You guys really look like you’re in love with each other.”

“Those are already out?” Janis asks.

“Yeah? When was the date?”

“We literally just got back,” Janis says in confusion. “I mean, it’s like a half hour drive and it took me another five minutes to get up to our room, but… like, literally just crossed the threshold.”

“Seriously? Damn, that is quick,” Damian says. “You guys make a cute couple.”

“Don’t get too attached,” Janis chuckles.

“Where is Cady now? Is she listening in? Are we being spied on?”

“Not by her, but probably. I don’t think the security people trust me,” Janis says. “I’m half expecting them to give me a pat down every time I leave our room. Cady’s… working… somewhere, I dunno. She went off in another direction when we got back.”

“Weird,” Damian says.

“Nobody else is here, we don’t have to keep up appearances,” Janis replies. “So… did the pictures have, like, words? To accompany them?”

“Some,” Damian says casually.

“And am I being slandered? Dragged through the coals?” Janis asks. “I’m too scared to look for myself. You have to be my window to the outside world through all of this.”

“I accept and I am deeply honored.”

“You already talk like Cady does,” Janis snorts.

“Wait, seriously?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, everyone in her family I’ve met so far talks like they’re stuck in a novel or something. Fancy words.”

“Who have you met so far?” Damian asks.

“Just her and her parents. Her brothers are supposed to come over the next couple weeks,” Janis says.

“How are the ‘rents?”

“Some of the tensest people I’ve ever seen,” Janis says. “They hate me.”

“Aren’t they supposed to?” Damian asks.

“Yeah, but not yet,” Janis replies. “What are they saying online?”

“Um… gimme a sec,” Damian says. “Cady Heron in a relationship with… those bitches! You are not trailer trash!”

“They said that?” Janis replies, unable to hold back a laugh. “I mean, I guess I kind of am by comparison.”

“Oh, someone on Twitter says you’re pretty,” Damian says. “Um… have you ever done crack?”

“What?!”

“Never mind,” Damian says. “Might be worth a try, though.”

“What the hell are you-”

“Definitely stay away from the internet for a while,” Damian interrupts.

“Okay? What does that have anything to do with crack?”

“Maybe just avoid both.”

“Noted,” Janis sighs. “Are they all that bad?”

“Most of them,” Damian says. “But hey, what do they know?”

“You are always saying they don’t know anything,” Janis says.

“What is she like?” Damian asks. Janis can practically see him lying on his stomach and kicking his feet back and forth like a teenage girl sharing the latest gossip.

“She’s… she… uh…”

“Beyond words?”

“In some ways,” Janis says. “She’s just… uh… she… I-I don’t know. She’s much different than she sounded in all the news stories you read me.”

“I told you! I told you they’ve always been wrong about her, I knew it!” Damian cheers.

“She’s… interesting. And she’s, like, surprisingly easy to make conversation with,” Janis continues. “And she seems… nice. I guess. She bought all of the snickerdoodles from a baker like it was totally normal.”

“It probably is for her,” Damian says. “Were they at least good cookies?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janis says. “Nothing on yours, but a close second.”

“That is the correct answer,” Damian replies. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. It’s weird not being home,” Janis sighs. “I mean, this place is amazing, but it’s just… I dunno, not normal.”

“It’s only one year,” Damian comforts. “And you know damn well we aren’t celebrating until you’re here.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” Janis chuckles. “God, what does my mom have to say about all this?”

“She doesn’t know yet,” Damian says.

“Good.”

“She might not even find out unless one of us tells her, your mom’s never been one for social media or anything.”

“That’s true,” Janis sighs.

“What did you tell your family?”

“That I’m spending Christmas with a girl and not to check the news for three business months.”

“Smooooooth,” Damian replies. “You know Julie’s gonna find out.”

“I know,” Janis sighs. “I’ll think of some better way to explain this to them without getting them hounded by lawyers.”

“If today is anything to go by you’re gonna want to get on that quick.”

“It’s scary, honestly,” Janis says with an ironic chuckle. “Don’t they have to edit the pictures first?”

“Gossip waits for no man.”

“Sadly true.”

Janis looks up when there’s a faint knock on the door. Cady comes in behind it, but ducks back out when she sees Janis is on the phone.

“Dame, I gotta go,” Janis says, motioning Cady back in when she peeks through a crack left in the door. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Is it her?”

“Yes,” Janis huffs with an affectionate eye roll. “Love you.”

“Tell her I say hi! And that I really admire her strength!” Damian says. “Oh, love you too. Bye.”

“Hi,” Janis sighs as she hangs up the phone and plops it into her lap.

“Hello,” Cady greets. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s fine. Nothing important,” Janis shrugs. “Just Damian.”

“Your friend?”

“Yeah. He says hi, by the way,” Janis chuckles.

“How sweet. Hello back,” Cady says with a quiet giggle.

“What’s up?”

“Bad news,” Cady sighs. “My parents want you to have dinner with us tonight.”

“Okay,” Janis says. “Is… is that it?”

“I was hoping I could save you a while longer, I did my best to get you out yesterday, but they’re absolutely insistent about tonight and-”

“Cady,” Janis chuckles. “It’s fine. Part of the deal, I’ll manage. How bad could it be?”

—-

Janis quickly learns exactly how bad it can be.

The first ten minutes or so pass in absolute silence, which would be nice if it didn’t feel like an omen of things to come. The only sounds are muffled (and very polite) chewing, forks hitting impossibly fancy plates, and Cady occasionally inhaling like she’s about to speak before she decides against it.

At least the food is good. Really good. Janis is willing to bet something like this would cost her at least a hundred dollars in a restaurant. And she gets it for free every night for almost a month.

She locks eyes with Cady across the table at one point. Cady looks back as she chews a mouthful of her salmon. Janis tries to surreptitiously shift her eyes to Cady’s parents, trying to ask if she should make conversation or something without speaking. Cady shakes her head slightly and gives a small nod in the direction of her mother.

Janis dares to sneak a glance as she cuts off another bite of her own fish. Mrs. Heron’s eyes are firmly on her plate. Janis half expects to see it spontaneously combust under the intensity of her glare.

Her fish isn’t faring much better. For a woman who puts such emphasis on manners and politeness, she’s absolutely mangled her poor dinner. Janis quickly learns why as she sees her sawing at the delicate fish with terrifying aggression. Aggression that Janis knows is entirely aimed at her.

Janis jumps a bit and tries to play it off when Cady’s father suddenly clears his throat a bit and says, “So… um.”

“Janis, father,” Cady supplies quietly.

“So, Janis, tell us about your family,” Mr. Heron continues.

Janis freezes with her fork halfway to her mouth and politely rests it back on her plate. “Oh, um… it’s much less interesting than yours, sir. I have a little sister, she’s eighteen. Graduating high school in the spring. And then there’s my mom.”

“And your father?” Mrs. Heron asks in a tone Janis can only describe as snooty.

“My biological father passed away when I was four,” Janis says softly. “And my stepfather is… erm, we don’t know exactly, but somewhere in Arizona. He left when I came out.”

Mrs. Heron’s eye twitches slightly at the mere mention of a stepfather, especially an absent one. Mr. Heron seems to regret opening a conversation at all and quietly returns to his dinner. Janis looks at Cady apologetically, but she shrugs and mouths, “You tried.”

“The salmon is amazing,” Janis says, giving another feeble attempt at… something.

“Thank you,” Mr. Heron says when neither his wife or daughter respond. “We pride ourselves on our chefs.”

“I see why.”

Everyone gives a small nod and continues eating. It feels almost like a scene in a movie before a car comes crashing through a wall or something else spectacularly dramatic.

But an astounding amount of nothing happens, and the rest of the meal passes in silence.

—-

“So. See what I mean now?”

“Oh my god,” Janis groans as she crawls into the large bed next to her. “That felt like if I breathed wrong some nuclear missile was gonna go off or something. Tensest meal of my life.”

“You’ll want to get used to that,” Cady chuckles.

“I’ll be able to do brain surgery after this trip. Face anything with steady hands.”

“This was actually a more pleasant dinner,” Cady says thoughtfully. “I’m honestly surprised my mother hasn’t torn into you yet.”

“Me too. I’m waiting for it every time I turn a corner,” Janis chuckles.

“I’m sorry,” Cady says suddenly. “I don’t want you to be so… on edge.”

“Part of the job,” Janis replies. “I can handle whatever she says, I just don’t like the whole element of surprise.”

“Are you sure? I knew I should’ve prepared you for them more-”

“Cady, it’s fine,” Janis says. “It’s three weeks. They might be taking years off my life in terms of my cardiac health every time we talk, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m very glad it’s you that bumped into me on that sidewalk.”

“Me too,” Janis says. “But you totally bumped into me.”

“I did not!” Cady scoffs.

“You did! You were off like a shot, you ran me over!”

“Wouldn’t have been an issue if you weren’t standing in the way,” Cady huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as they both stare up at nothing in the darkness.

“I was only in the way because I needed into the building you were catapulting yourself out of.”

“And you could’ve waited your turn!”

“The windows are tinted, I couldn’t see you until the door almost broke my nose!” Janis defends.

“I did not almost break your nose.”

“You could’ve,” Janis pouts. “Or my ass.”

“Your ass is fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!”

—————

The rest of that week passes relatively smoothly. Meals are always awkward, but Janis has close to free reign to explore the impossibly large property at her will. Damian gets lots of pictures of the mountains, and Janis takes a few extra to use as references for paintings later.

The next Saturday, Janis gets to meet the first of Cady’s brothers. She and Cady are chatting in the parlor and munching on the (very few) leftover snickerdoodles from their date at the market.

“Auntie Cady!” a voice calls. Janis watches as Cady smiles and turns around. She smiled with her eyes. Janis hasn’t seen that before. And god, does she want to see it again.

“Who is this?” Cady asks, looking at a young boy and an even younger girl.

“It’s me! It’s Lennox!” the boy says.

“Mm,” Cady hums suspiciously. “I don’t think so. The Lenny I know is only about this tall.” She holds up a hand to demonstrate. “And he wasn’t missing any teeth!”

“I grew! And I lost my tooth, see? The tooth fairy brought me stock in Netflix!”

“You grew?!” Cady asks like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “Let me see. Same hair.” She ruffles it with a hand. “Same eyes. Same cute smile. Lenny?!”

“Yeah!” Lennox says eagerly. Cady laughs and wraps him in a hug.

“My favorite little guy, I missed you!” she says. “And if that’s Lenny, then… this must be Fifi!”

The little girl shrieks happily as Cady picks her up and spins her around, her blonde braids whirling around behind her.

“Hi,” Cady grins when they come to a stop, looking at the girl still in her arms.

“Hi, Auntie Cady,” the girl replies. “You gotta, um… you gotta… um… meet, um… Nomie.”

“Oh, my god, I do,” Cady says. Janis watches in slight confusion as she kisses the little girl’s cheek and puts her back down. A woman approaches with a tiny baby in her arms. “Oh, she’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” the woman replies. “Naomi Charlotte.”

“Hi, Naomi,” Cady murmurs, gently stroking the baby’s head. “Happy almost first Christmas!”

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” Cady asks. The woman nods and gently passes the baby over. Janis is watching curiously until she feels a small finger prodding at her leg.

“Hey,” Janis greets.

“Who are you?” Lennox asks suspiciously. The girl crosses her arms behind him like a hype man.

“I’m Janis.”

“Oh my god,” Cady gasps. “I completely forgot! Janis, this is my nephew Lennox, and my nieces Fiona and Naomi,” she says, gesturing between the girl and the baby. “And my sister-in-law Madeleine, and my brother Callum.”

“But who’s she?!” Lennox insists, pointing to Janis.

“Lennox,” Callum scolds. “Manners.”

“Excuse me miss,” Lennox says politely. “Who are you?”

Callum rolls his eyes fondly. “Apologies, we’re working on it. Callum Heron, pleasure.”

“Janis Sarkisian. Same,” Janis replies, trying not to wince at the very firm handshake she receives.

“Janis is… my girlfriend,” Cady says, walking over and smiling at her. She leans in for a kiss, which Janis returns.

“Girlfriend?!” Madeleine says. Janis braces. Are they homophobic? “And you didn’t tell me?! Cady! What happened to sisterhood?”

“You know how it is, Maddie,” Cady chuckles. “I’ll tell you everything over tea tomorrow. I promise.”

“You’d better. Give me my baby back,” Madeleine says.

“No. My Naomi,” Cady refuses, turning away when Madeline approaches to take her back. “Fine. I’ll just take… this one!”

Fiona squeals happily as Cady picks her back up. “Auntie Cady!”

“What?” Cady says, holding Fiona on her hip.

“Daddy’s mean.”

“Daddy’s mean?” Cady says, grinning at her brother. “Well, we can’t have that. What did he do this time?”

“He maked me sit in my car seat the whole entiwe time!” Fiona says in exasperation. “And! And-and he says I don’t getta have any mowe cookies!”

“No more cookies?” Cady gasps in horror.

“Today! I said no more cookies today,” Callum huffs. “She’s already had six!”

“Six cookies?” Cady asks, looking at the little girl just to put the whole story together.

“Wittle cookies,” Fiona defends.

“Little cookies,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “Well. Far be it from me to undermine your daddy’s parenting.”

“Auntie Cady!” Fiona whines. “Pwease?”

“But I suppose,” Cady says dramatically. “That…”

“I don’t count,” Janis says, catching onto where Cady’s going with this. Something tells her getting into these kids’ good books is very important, so she offers the little girl one of the cookies she and Cady brought. “Here. I’ll undermine your dad’s parenting anytime.”

“Thank you Miss Janis!” Fiona says eagerly, wiggling to be put down. Janis grins and accepts the offered handshake the toddler gives.

“You’re welcome, kiddo,” Janis chuckles. Lennox gets a cookie too, and they both bounce up and down eagerly. “Sorry, Callum.”

“At least Cades gave it a rest,” Callum sighs. “Merry Christmas, baby sister.”

“Merry Christmas, big brother,” Cady replies with a conniving smile.

“We’re gonna go get settled in. Nice to meet you, Janis,” Callum says.

“You too,” Janis nods.

“Auntie Cady, will you play with us?!” Lennox asks eagerly. “I brought my new fire truck!”

“Oh my gosh, of course! But you should go get settled in with your family first. Come find me in a little bit and I promise I’ll play fire truck with you,” Cady replies. Lennox pouts the slightest bit, but he follows his father towards their rooms. She crouches down as Fiona tugs on the leg of her pants. “What’s up, Fifi?”

“I like Miss Janis,” Fiona whispers conspiratorially. She’s not quite gotten whispering down, since everyone around can hear her. Cady smiles.

“I like her too. Go find your family,” Cady whispers back, kissing her niece’s cheek and sending her off to find her parents with a gentle pat on her back. “Sorry about that, I should’ve warned you.”

“No, it was fine. You can’t know when any social interaction is going to happen. They seem nice,” Janis says.

“Yeah,” Cady says, grinning faintly at the carpet.

“You really love those kids,” Janis says quietly. “Was cute.”

“I do,” Cady nods. “They’re exhausting, but they’re sweet kids.”

“How old are they?”

“Lenny’s six,” Cady says. “Crazy. He was born yesterday. Fifi’s three, and Naomi is… ffffffour months? Around there.”

“Cute. Perfect spacing,” Janis chuckles. “Does anyone else have kids?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Clif both have kids too,” Cady says. “You’ll meet them later. They’re slightly less tiring.”

“Cool,” Janis replies. Cady smiles at her and nods.

“Cool.”

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

AS IT WAS

A/N: im still in shock, the video killed my last about three working braincell. anywayssss here is a rather emotional piece based on the song and also a weird dream i had last night lol

PAIRING: Harry X Reader (kind of exes to lovers)

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: You're on a break, but Harry calls you drunk one night and you don't even think twice before going over to check on him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The buzzing of your phone drags you out of your sleep, it takes a few moments to realize just how dark it is in the room so it’s probably very late at night. The phone keeps vibrating and the screen flashes as you grab it from the nightstand, squinting your eyes against the bright light as you check the caller ID and your stomach drops.

Harry is calling and it’s three in the morning. This can’t be good.

“H? What’s wrong?” you ask with a racing heart as you sit up in bed and wait for a response, that comes quite late. You hear his breathing, it sounds heavier than usually so you know right away that he is probably drunk.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs and he sounds so broken and hurt, it’s like a knife in your heart even after everything that has happened between the two of you.

You’re on a break, something you initiated, because you didn’t know this was where you wanted to head in life, if you really wanted to spend the rest of it with Harry. Distance had been an issue lately and Harry didn’t communicate the way you needed him, so that’s when you asked for some time and space.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t love him anymore, you have more love for him than probably anyone else and if he is in trouble, not feeling well, there’s no doubt you’ll be there for him, just like how you know he would drop everything the moment you called.

“H, talk to me, what’s happening?” you ask him while already getting out of bed, looking for clothes to change into, because you know you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t check up on him.

“I just… everything gets in the way… I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out shakily and you’re already putting on your sneakers, ready to be out of the house the next moment.

“What did you drink, baby?” you ask, the nickname coming out of habit.

“Drinks… That one pill, b-but it’s just so I can sleep,” he explains, and it just adds to your anxiety.

“Just one pill? Are you sure? Harry, you’re no good alone like this, what kind of pills?”

“Yeah. Just one, I promise,” he mumbles, ignoring the last question as you’re running out to your car in the dark. “Y/N, I know it’s not the same as it was, but I miss you so badly. I wish you were here.”

“I’m on my way. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? I’ll be there in a bit and we can talk.”

“Okay,” he chokes out and the line ends. You’ve never driven faster than in this moment, on your way to Harry’s.

In the meantime Harry is sitting on the hardwood floor of his living room in only a pair of red boxer briefs, a half empty bottle of gin on the coffee table with a glass he didn’t even touch, because it was easier to drink straight from the bottle. The phone drops from his hand and he lies down flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dim lighting, he only has one lamp on in the far corner of the room, illuminating the place enough that he is not sitting in the pitch darkness.

Tears are dwelling in his eyes and the first one rolls down the side of his face, moving past his ear before it drops to the floor. He knows he hasn’t been the best boyfriend and he doesn’t blame you for wanting to spend some time apart. You’ve been together for three years, it’s definitely a turning point in your relationship, but now he is afraid everything will change for the worse and he’ll lose the most important person in his life and it’s all because of him.

He loses track of time and he doesn’t even hear it when your car parks down on the driveway. The front door opens and you walk in in a rush, looking for him with a racing heart.

“Harry?” you call out and then spot his naked feet in the doorway to the living room. Walking in you find him lying there, his beautiful eyes that you love so much filled with so much sadness as he looks at you through his tears. “Hey, I’m here. It’s okay,” you soothe him as you drop to the floor next to him, helping him to sit up. He is so big and massive, it’s quite the struggle, but you manage to do it and his head falls to your shoulder in an instant as he attempts to hug you, but he can barely coordinate his movements, so he basically just leans onto you.

You wrap your arms around his naked torso and let him sink into you for a bit, gently rubbing his back with the palm of your hand.

“You came. You really came,” he then finally speaks up.

“Of course, I will always come when you need me, no matter what.”

“I love you. Even if you don’t love me anymore, I still do.”

Pulling back you force him to look you in the eyes as you cup his face in your palms, the stubble he has grown rough against your skin.

“I love you, Harry. I have so much love for you. I just… I have to figure out where I want to head, but I will always love you.”

“You’re just not sure you want to be with me,” he mumbles, his voice dying at the end as tears roll down his cheeks.

You want to tell him you can’t imagine a life without him. You want to tell him that in the past weeks you’ve spent apart have shown you how much you need him to be in your life, but you’re afraid you’re only feeling this way because you’d gotten so used to his presence over the years. You need to be sure your feelings are genuine and not stained by your momentary doubts.

Not sure what to tell him you lean closer and kiss his cheek before pushing yourself up from the ground and helping him up as well. Again, it’s proven to be harder, you definitely don’t have the muscle energy to hold up his massive body, but somehow you get him up on his feet, one arm around your shoulders so you can help him walk into the bedroom. On the way, he keeps chanting I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and you just keep telling him it’s alright and you truly mean it. He has seen you at your lowest as well, helped you through rough patches in your life without batting an eye and you’ll do the same for him.

He falls into bed like a sack of potatoes and you drag the covers over him, his eyes already closing when you tuck him in. Just when you’re about to leave, he grabs your hand softly and holds you back.

“Can you please stay? Just for tonight? I don’t want to wake up alone,” he whispers and you know you would never be able to say no to him.

Kicking your shoes off, you round the bed and get under the covers next to him, his drunk, tired body already pulling closer to you, maybe out of instinct, maybe because he truly needs your closeness, it doesn’t matter. He curls around you like a monkey and despite the mess you’re in, it feels like home to be in the same bed with him.

“I don’t think I can ever be with anyone else, Y/N,” he mumbles into the darkness while you’re gently scratching his scalp, knowing it always calms him down.

“It’s just us, Harry. It will always be us in this world.”

“Okay,” he breathes out and soon enough, you hear his breathing slowing down as he falls asleep with his head on your rising and falling chest, your heart beating only for him under his cheek.

The morning comes with a throbbing headache for Harry, but he forgets about it fast when he realizes that he is holding you in his arms. Being the big spoon, his front is fully pressed up against your back, only a tank top between you and him. He faintly remembers you were wearing a hoodie when you arrived last night, but it must have gotten too hot so you ditched it. Now he is glad you did, because he can feel the heat of your body a lot more, your familiar scent filling his nostrils as he buries his nose into your hair.

He allows himself to be selfish and hold you for as long as possible, not sure what the moment you wake up brings. Will you be mad at him? Disappointed? Kind? It’s a mystery, but he just wants to hold onto this moment a little longer. The realization that you cannot be replaced strengthening by the minute.

You wake just about ten minutes after Harry, his body stiffening when you turn around to face him, afraid of your reaction. But surprisingly, he sees no disappointment or anger in your beautiful eyes, just a sweet, warm, lazy smile stretches across your face and it melts him right away.

“Your head hurts, right?” you ask with a soft chuckle, as you cup his face in your hands.

“Yeah,” he admits, closing his eyes as you brush your thumb across his forehead, your touch almost taking away the pain alone.

“Let’s make some breakfast and we’ll find you some Advil,” you tell him so softly, as if you were talking to a little child.

Getting out of bed Harry decides it’s better if he has a quick shower, and while he stands under the hot water, he hears you washing your face at the sink, just like before, using the bathroom together without hesitation. It makes him feel like your old life together is not that far or gone, that he can still get it back if he fights for it. If he fights for you.

The two of you move around the kitchen in sync, he makes the eggs, you take care of the coffee and toasts and when your plates are full you sit at the dining table, the weight of last night sitting on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I bothered you last night. I don’t even know why I thought I could call you so late,” he speaks up, clearing his throat.

“Harry, you know you can always come to me. No matter what.”

“Yes, but you wanted space and I didn’t respect it.”

“You needed help and I’m always happy to be there for you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You’re too good to be true, he thinks.

“Can we talk… about us?” he asks with so much caution, it’s far from the confident man you’re used to.

“Do you want to? We can… have a conversation later, when you’re feeling better, I mean.”

“I would never miss a chance to clear things up with you.”

“Okay,” you nod, putting down the fork to give him your undivided attention. He clears his throat again and takes a deep breath before speaking up.

“So, how have you been feeling? Is the break what you really wanted? It’s doing good to you?”

“I really needed it. But it’s been hard, to be honest. I miss you. A lot.”

Hearing your words is like a relief to him, but he knows he can’t be sure just yet he can win you over.

“So then… where are you standing right now?”

You sigh as you lean back in your chair, staring down at your half eaten breakfast. It’s a tough question and you don’t want to give him or yourself false hope about the future.

“I honestly don’t know. I know that I miss you and I love you a lot, but I also know we can’t go back to how it was.”

“Yeah, agreed,” he nods. “I just want you to know that I fully understand the issues you told me about. I know that I suck at communicating and I will try my best to get better. For you and for us, because you deserve the best. And I want to be that for you.”

You know his words are not just empty promises, he truly means them. Harry would do anything to have you back, you’re just not sure you’re ready to give him your all.

“I need to figure it out. How we can make things work and I need to do it alone. I know it sucks, but I truly think this is what we have to do now in order to move on together.”

It hurts to know he needs to wait some more, but if it means you’ll find your way back to him, he would do anything. So he nods and takes a deep breath, swallowing the urge to cry that’s been creeping up his throat.

You finish breakfast together and have a little chat to catch up before you head back home, leaving Harry on his own again. He doesn’t call you again in the middle of the night, just waits for you patiently.

Two weeks go by and he starts to worry that you changed your mind and don’t want to give it another try. He doesn’t hear from you and he fights the urge to reach out, wanting to let you heal and grow at your own pace.

But then you show up unannounced.

He has just gotten home from the studio, working on some new music that was obviously inspired by you. He plans on doing absolutely nothing, just watching TV and then going to bed, but then his plans get interrupted by the sound of a car parking down on his driveway. He recognizes your car as he peeks out through the window and his heart starts racing right away, thinking of all the possibilities, you could be visiting him for. He opens the door before you could even ring the bell and seeing you standing on his doormat fills his chest with joy and worry at the same time, but when he sees a wide smile spread across your face, relief washes over him.

“Hey, sorry for dropping by so unannounced, but I was nearby.”

“Don’t worry about it, come on in,” he invites you in, even though you don’t feel like a guest here, it’s more like home.

He offers you a drink or snacks, but you refuse as the two of you get comfortable on his couch. He waits patiently for you to find your words and start speaking whenever you feel like you’re ready.

“Um, I wasn’t even nearby, I just came to see you,” you admit with a nervous chuckle and Harry’s heart skips a beat. In a sense, it feels like when before you just started dating, the nervous jitters, the shaky breaths, it takes you both back in time. “I wanted to talk, I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other.”

“And… have you come to a conclusion?” he nervously asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip. “I, uhh… If you still haven’t changed your mind, I would love to start a–”

You don’t get to finish, Harry’s lips smack against yours, his large hands holding your face as if it was the most precious treasure in the world. The words die on your tongue as it melts against his in a smearing kiss, your hands grabbing his shirt and fisting it as you pull him closer until he is practically lying on top of you.

“Sorry,” he breathes out when he pulls back for some air. “I got a bit carried away and didn’t let you finish,” he chuckles, but you shake your head.

“You can always cut me off like this,” you gasp for air and pull him back for another passionate kiss.

It takes some time for the two of you to let go of each other and at last you settle sitting on his lap, facing him, your hands holding onto the base of his neck while his fingers are gently caressing your thighs on either side of him.

“We can’t go back to how we were, Harry. It doesn’t work,” you tell him, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“I know. We’ll figure it out. Together,” he answers and leaning closer he steals a short kiss. Now that he has you back he can’t stop kissing you, not that you mind it.

“Together,” you smile at him, feeling excited and hopeful about the future.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #as it was #harry styles as it was

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 12: Resting at Home (Alt Prompt: Baking)

AO3

Waking up at five in the morning, feeling like you’re surrounded is disorienting. Waking up with a sore throat and shooting pain in her shoulder was also disorienting. Until she remembered everything from the night before. Adrien was not going to be happy. He’d begged her to tell him if she ended up going on patrol with her father, wanting her to be safe. She didn’t tell him, and now she was certain he was going to be angry. Unless she could get back to the hotel before he woke up. But it was still unlikely that he wouldn’t know. Plagg was a tattle tale. Sighing, she carefully gets out of the bed, maneuvering around her brothers’ sleeping forms on the floor. Walking out of the room, she instantly feels anxious. Deciding a glass of water might calm her down, she heads towards the kitchen.

“I believe you should be resting, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says, making her jump. She winces as her shoulder jostles, trying not to frown at the way Alfred’s lips purse. She knew he was worried. And she knew her family was going to be unbelievably overprotective for the next six months. Or maybe, six years. She’s not exactly sure how protective they actually are.

“I was going to get a glass of water.” She says softly, pointing to her throat. “I was also feeling a little anxious.”

“Very well. I was about to start the preparations for breakfast. If you promise to sit and refrain from straining yourself, you may come with.” He says. She grins, immediately falling into step with the man.

“Could we bake something for everyone for breakfast?” She asks, glancing up at him. “It doesn’t have to be anything too difficult. I mean, I’d prefer to make croissants the first time I bake for them, but there’s not exactly time to do that for breakfast.” She rambles as they walk into the kitchen. Alfred immediately walks over to a cabinet and grabs a glass, filling it with water before handing it to her and raising an eyebrow. She smiles gratefully and sips on the water, relishing in the coolness on her throat.

“I believe our agreement was that you would sit and refrain from straining yourself.” Alfred says, moving around the kitchen with ease. Marinette huffs but plops onto one of the stools.

“It doesn’t have to be anything difficult! It could even be….muffins! Muffins are popular for breakfast here, right?” She suggests, flailing her arms, wincing as she does so. It was going to be annoying remembering that her injury was there this time around. There was no Miraculous Cure when her opponent was just a bad guy, not a Miraculous holder.

“If I allow you to turn on the mixer and place the liners in the tin, will you be satisfied?” Alfred asks with a sigh. Marinette grins and nods. There’s comfortable silence as Alfred moves about the kitchen, measuring out the ingredients.

“Alfred?” She finally asks, glancing at the man who only hums in acknowledgement. “Who is Slade?” She asks. He pauses, the measuring cup positioned over the bowl. He takes a deep breath and dumps the ingredient in before straightening even more.

“He was part of the organization that Master Damian grew up in. He’s always hated both Master Bruce and Master Damian. And now, I imagine, you’re also on his list.” He says calmly, clearly looking at her for some type of reaction.

“So now another villain is after my Miraculous? Joy.” She says sarcastically, pouting as she slumps in her seat. “I was kinda hoping he was just some random guy. Not a legitimate villain.” She adds. Alfred simply shakes his head, sliding the muffin tin and liners towards her.

“I can assure you, Miss Marinette. Between your father and brothers, this man will not succeed in taking your Miraculous. Marinette frowns, hoping the man is right.

---

Sitting straight up in bed, Damian tenses. This was not his bed. Blinking, he looks around the room and lets his shoulders relax slightly. He was in Dupain Cheng’s room, of course. She had been attacked last night- He pauses. He frowns as he looks at her pillows, no sight of her. Leaping over his brothers, he knocks on the door for the bathroom attached to her room.

“Dupain Cheng?” He says lowly, frowning at the lack of a response. He pushes the door open. Empty. So she was missing. She could not have gotten far. And she had to have left of her own volition. No one could have made it past all of his siblings. Leaving the room, he decides his first course of action should be to ask Pennyworth. Judging by the time, he should be in the kitchen. Making his way into the kitchen (his technical ban should not be an issue since he was actively looking for Dupain Cheng), he pauses when he sees the girl he was looking for, slumped onto the island.

“Ah, Master Damian. Breakfast should be ready soon. Would you care to fetch the rest of your siblings?” He asks. Damian frowns, glancing at Dupain Cheng. Was she okay? Should she really be up and running around after yesterday? She might be one of Paris’ heroes, but surely she wasn’t used to being stabbed?

“Very well.” He says, instead of arguing. He would just have to monitor Dupain Cheng from afar. After all, she did take a sword meant for him.

---

Marinette sighs, pushing herself off the counter. She wasn’t sure how serious breakfast was for the family, but she certainly didn’t want to scare anyone with her bedhead. Hopping off the stool, she winces slightly.

“Miss Marinette, I do wish you would refrain from jostling your wounds so much.” Alfred says, a small frown on his face. Mari grins awkwardly.

“Sorry Alfred.” She apologizes before rushing back up the stairs. She glances into several open doors, suddenly wishing she’d counted earlier to know which was hers. She huffs, prepared to give up, when someone clears their throat. She whirls around, raising an eyebrow at Damian.

“That room is yours.” He says simply, pointing at a door. “Everyone has vacated your room in order to get dressed in their own.” He adds, turning around and walking into a room. Well that’s new, she thinks, surprised that he’s still talking to her. Sure they talked briefly last night, but she honestly thought it was a fluke. Not that she minded. She really did want a relationship with all of her siblings. After being an only child for fourteen years, it was amazing to have so many siblings. Sure they didn’t grow up together, but she was certain that they could all become close. Walking into her room, Marinette quickly gets dressed in clothes that had obviously been left in there by Cass, since they were much smaller than anything the boys could have worn. Smiling, she ducks into the bathroom to deal with her bedhead, squeaking in surprise as something flies into her face.

“Tikki?” She says, shocked at the way the Kwami flies at her.

“You could have died! You silly, silly girl! I could have lost you last night, Marinette.” She cries, flying at Marinette’s face and patting her with her tiny paws. And in that moment, Marinette swears her heart breaks.

“Oh, Tikki.” She says softly, bringing her hands up to cradle the trembling Kwami. “I’m okay, I promise. Don’t worry, I was with my family. They wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m right here.” She reassures her small friend, wincing as she continues shaking.

“I couldn’t have saved you, Marinette. It wasn’t magic. There would have been no cure. I healed your shoulder as much as I can without disrupting the balance, but it’s still going to take weeks to fully heal.” Tikki says, her big eyes watery.

“I know, Tikki. But I couldn’t just let Damian get hurt. He’s my little brother, whether he likes it or not.” She says, patting her friend’s head gently before moving to her brush.

“But-” Tikki starts, pausing when Marinette turns her full attention back to her.

“But nothing Tikki. I’m okay, you’re okay, and my family is okay. That’s all we can ask for.” She says, going back to her attempts to tame her hair. Her phone, which she had set on the side of the sink, starts buzzing incessantly. Without glancing at the caller ID, she answers.

“Marinette Dupain Cheng, where the hell are you? Plagg says you left late last night and didn’t come back!” The worried voice of Adrien Agreste leaks through the speakers. Oh, right. She forgot to text him. Oops.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-dobroomsticks

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat marinette dupain cheng is ladybird #maribat damian wayne #platonic daminette #mbdbwm2021 #day twelve alt prompt #ao3fic #maribat fic

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xxcyj · 3 years

Text

Comfort 2.0

Comfort pt 2 is finally here! I hope you guys like it. Honestly this was kinda hard for me to write lol Anyway requests are open so feel free to request anything~ Masterlist << right here

Part 1

Genre: Fluff Word count: 2.7k Summary: Confession time

The sun rise was truly beautiful, you wondered why you never watched it before. You made a mental note to watch it another time. Maybe after a full night’s rest? This was your first time watching the sun rise and it was all Choi Yeonjun’s fault. You were tossing and turning the entire night and barely slept a wink of sleep; finally giving up at 5 am and just sitting at your desk and busied yourself by browsing the net.

It had been like this recently as Yeonjun seemed to occupy your mind. Absolutely making it hard for you to concentrate during your classes and assessments. You were praying to any gods out there that this torture would end before your exams started. Studying was already difficult as it was.

Your thoughts were interrupted with a good morning text from yours truly, Yeonjun. In the past, you never really thought much of it. Yeonjun and you would just text each other good morning to annoy each other to see who was awake first or to remind the other person that it was the morning if they had been pulling an all nighter.

Good morning munchkin~

Normally, you didn’t pay mind to whatever cute and cheesy nickname Yeonjun had thought of that morning as he only used them because he was a major flirt. However, this morning, you found your heart skip a beat and flutter. You tried your best to shrug it off and rolled your eyes while writing your reply.

‘Morning junnie

You set your phone down only to hear a familiar ping go off as you were about to roll back into bed.

We’re gonna be in the recording studio today~ wanna come?

A blush spread onto your cheeks as you read the invitation. It really wasn’t a big deal, Yeonjun often invited you to their recording sessions as you found the whole process fascinating. So why were you blushing a like a fool as you stared at the message on the screen. You found that your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you hesitated answering the question.

Yeah sure, when?

Good enough. Yup.

12! We can hang out before my session [ attached selfie ] See you there munchkin!!

Dammit. He just had to add that selfie. It was a little obvious he had just woken up as his face was still swollen and his hair was a mess, poking out in multiple directions. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking how incredibly handsome he looked. There goes your heart again, skipping another beat like it’s playing jump rope or something. Placing your phone on your desk, you walked over to your bed before burying your face into your pillow.

“Why did my feelings decide it was a good idea to catch feelings for my best friend” You muttered into the pillow as you let out a frustrated scream before turning around to look at your phone that rested on your desk.

It had been about two weeks since that walk to the bus stop. And you had been acting like a fool in those two weeks, getting flustered easily while trying your best to seem like everything was normal. You had talked to some of your friends about it and they all suggested to confess along with saying that it was time you finally realised you had feelings for him.

The thought of confessing did occur to your but you backed out and just planned on letting the crush fade. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Yeonjun, the thought of everything going down the drain because of a simple confession made your insides churn. Not that Yeonjun would be a jerk about it but you knew it would probably make everything awkward. You knew Yeonjun and knew that he would try his best to let you down easy and pretend nothing happened but that would just make everything worse.

Your thoughts swirled into a mush as your eyes finally felt droopy as you were thankful for finally being able to sleep.

You opened your eyes to the sound of your ringtone. What? Still a little froggy, you walk over to your phone and answer without looking at the caller ID.

“Y/N? Are you still coming?” Yeonjun’s voice startled you as you take the phone from your ear and check the time. 12:25.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I fell asleep.” You reply back put your phone on speaker and start scurrying off to the bathroom to get ready.

“It’s alright. Taehyun’s in the recording booth first so I’ve got sometime to kill. Wanna get some food?” You tried your best to listen to him but the running water drowned out most of what he was saying.

“Ummm yea sounds good! Text me the details.” You call out as you finish washing your face and start brushing your teeth. Hurriedly, you finished brushing your teeth and wiped your face with the towel from the rack. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

“Perfect! Ok, I’ll text you the address of the cafe. How long do you think you’ll be?” He asked, you stood there not having single idea. Usually in situations like this you would just throw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie with a bare face before calling it a day and leaving.

But here you stood in front of the mirror suddenly feeling a little self conscious.

“Y/N?”

“Oh, give me twenty minutes! I’m so sorry!” You profusely apologised as he just chuckled and assured you it was fine.

“Alright see you soon Y/N” Yeonjun said before ending the call. You quickly rushed over to your closet and examined it before nodding to a skirt and a long sleeve shirt. As for makeup, you didn’t have much time so you only put on bb cream, eye shadow, lip stick and brows. Looking at yourself one last time in the mirror, you decided to just leave your hair down before calling for a taxi.

Yeonjun sat at the corner of the cafe dressed in a grey shirt with a green flannel and a pair of black jeans. Although he was wearing a mask, you could tell it was him by the hat you had bought him a few months back. Subconsciously, you fixed your hair before walking up to the table where he sat.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. I’ll buy your drink to make it up to you.” You said, catching his attention. He looked up at you, even with his mask you could tell he was smiling by his eyes.

“It’s alright but we should get the drinks to go and just have them at the studio.” Yeonjun said as you both walked to the counter.

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and a salmon beagle please.” You spoke to the cashier before asking Yeonjun what he wanted.

“I’ll just have an iced americano please” Yeonjun answered before taking out his card to hand to the cashier.

“Wait no, sorry I’ll be paying.” You interrupted and pulled out your card. However, Yeonjun just shook his head and pushed your hand out of the way before giving his card to the cashier and typing his pin on the machine.

As you both walked off to the side to wait, you stared at him until he finally looked at you.

“What?” He said leaning in and lightly tapping your forehead. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you pay did you?”

“Yeonjun, I said I was gonna pay for you to make up for me being late.” You pouted and put your hands on your hips. Instead of intimidating him, this only made him chuckle and ruffle your hair, making your heart beat faster. Please don’t be blushing, you chanted in your head.

“It’s ok, you can make it up by buying dinner tonight.” Yeonjun cheerfully said.

“Actually, I can’t have dinner with you tonight. I have plans.” You reply as you thought about school. You had a group project due at midnight and still had a little bit to do until you were finished. Yeah, you had to admit you were a little slack on this group project and honestly you didn’t have a good enough excuse. It’s ok though, you were all getting graded individually so your group mates’ marks won’t suffer due to your poor time management. “But next time for sure.”

He gave you a strange look and just as Yeonjun was about to speak, your orders were called up. You both collected your items and started to head towards the Big Hit building. The two of you walked in silence as you munched on your beagle. You stole glances here and there at the man walking beside you.

“What is it?” Yeonjun finally asked as you reached the building and made your way up to the studio. He finally took his mask off and sighed before putting the mask into his bag. A little flustered by his question and not wanting to say it was because he looked handsome even with a mask on, you thought for a second before giving him an uneasy smile.

“Just feel bad about being late and having you pay for my things you know.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He replies back with a smile before leading the way into the studio. You politely said hello to the producers and sound engineers before sitting on the couch. Taehyun was just wrapping up for today’s recording as you gave him a little wave.

“What are you doing tonight anyway?” Yeonjun asked as he skimmed past his lines. Not wanting him to scold you for your academic habits, you avoided his eyes as you answered. “Oh, just you know, meeting up with a friend.”

Yeonjun looked at you and seemed to be biting back a reply as he left to go into the recording booth. Taehyun said a polite hello and goodbye as he left to go off to the practice room. You sat on the couch sipping on your drink as you watched Yeonjun do some sound checks.

You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he looked when he was recording. The way he would carefully listen to the producers feedback and write little notes on his lyric sheet. The way he would smile and cheer a little when he got something right. Everything about him looked so admirable, making you realise you how much you respected him and his dedication to his dream.

Your phone vibrated on the table and you were quick to check it as to not disturb anything. The caller ID read your groupmate’s name making you let out a silent curse before excusing yourself from the room.

“Hey what’s up?” You tried your best to answer.

“Y/N are you finished?” She sounded a little impatient through the phone, making you feel even more guilty.

“Almost. Just the final finishing touches. I’ll have to done by tonight, don’t worry.” You tried to reassure her.

“Ok, but I need it by 9 so I can check it before I send the manuscript for the presentation to the professor.”

“Yup. You bet, it’ll be sent by 9.” You replied back before you heard her sigh and hang up. You let out a sigh of relief before entering the room again. Your eyes met Yeonjun’s as he raised a brow at you as if to ask what you were up to. You gestured to you phone and just gave him a thumbs up with a smile before continuing to listen to him record again.

“Who were you on the phone with?” Yeonjun asked as he exited the recording booth. Not wanting him to find out it was your group mate as he would surely ask what it was about, you just replied with “Oh, just my friend.”

The two of you were walking along the hallway when you took a peak at the clock, reading 3:45. Shoot. You really didn’t have time to hang out with Yeonjun any longer, your presentation was begging you to finish it.

“The same friend you’re having dinner with tonight?” You stared at him as his voice sounded with something that you couldn’t pin point. He stared back at you as well as he leaned against the wall.

“Uh, yes. Actually I have to go right now, I promised them I’d get there around 5.” You gave him a sheepish smile and was about to press the button for the elevator and wave goodbye when he spoke up.

“Are you going on a date?” The question flustered you.

“What? What makes you say that?” You asked as you stood there trying to read his face.

“Well, you’re all dressed up with makeup and everything. And you’re leaving so early.” He walked closer to you and suddenly you were very aware of how small you were compared to him.

“Am I not allowed to dress nicely? I just wanted to look good today.” You simply stated feeling your heart pounding in your chest as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Sure sounds like you’re trying to impress someone, that could only indicate a date. You never dress this nicely just to meet up with a ‘friend’” A rush of confidence hit you as he spoke. Something about him staring at you with heat woke something in you.

“So what if I was going on a date? Anyway, look it’s not a date ok?” You challenged as you carefully watched his expression. You waited for an answer but nothing came, it was as if he was trying to find a response. “Yeonjun, I really need to go.”

“Then why is your outfit so cute and your makeup so good? You never try to dress up when you’re with me.” He finally replied, sounding a little...disappointed? His lips were slightly pouted and you didn’t know if you were seeing things but was that wistfulness in his eyes?

You looked down and played with the hem of your skirt before meeting his eyes once again. Seeing him like this made your heart ache slightly. Letting out a sigh, you mentally shook yourself. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t just let this crush fade.

“Yeonjun, the only reason I dressed up today was because I was coming to see you. I’m not meeting up with a friend at all, I’m leaving early to finish up some school work.” He looked a little surprise by your answer.

“Dressed up for me? But why?” You found it adorable watching him look like the confused pikachu meme.

“Yes you. I-” Here it goes. Now or never. “I like you.” You turn around and quickly hit the elevator button, thanking the gods out there when it opened. “I need to go.” And with that you hopped in the elevator button, regretting setting in rather quickly.

You had ruined it. You just ruined your friendship with him. Great. Wonderful. You were too deep in thought that you realised that the elevator hadn’t moved. Dammit you forgot to press the button for Ground floor. Looking up, you noticed Yeonjun’s body at the door frame of the elevator thus preventing the doors to close.

As you were about to ask him what the hell he was doing, he stepped forward to cup your face and let his lips meet yours as your eyes widen in shock before closing as you melted into the kiss. The kiss was the type to make your knees feel like jelly as it was deep and almost hungry. Just as you thought he was about to pull away, he held you closer as he slightly bit onto your bottom lip before sucking on it. Your mouth opens a little to gasp as his tongue made its way into your mouth making you stumble back a little. Your hand held onto his shoulders in order to stand up as you felt your legs wobbly a little. His kisses began to trail on your neck before they made their way to your ear. He nibbled on them a little before he stopped, his ragged breath sending shivers through out your body.

“Good, because I like you as well.” He whispered into you ear before pulling away. Your eyes met you and you watched him smile as he kissed your lips once again, this time it felt soft and innocent. As he pulled away, a shy smile graced your face as he stared at you with such adoration.

“You’re so cute.”

#txt #txt yeonjun #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt x moa #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun drabbles #txt drabbles

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield

Summary ↠ you and Harrison broke up before he left to chase his dreams in Hollywood. With 5,000 miles between you, you’re both struggling to adjust to life without the other; exes to lovers; prompt: “why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

Warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, a breakup, one curse word?

Word Count ↠ 2.7k

A/N ↠ I miss Harrison. A lot. And I haven’t written enough for him, so...here ya go! This is definitely inspired by Ariana Grande’s song goodnight n go, which never fails to hit me in the feels (listen to the version from her live album... it’s magic).

This is also my fic for @t-holland2080‘s writing challenge! Thanks so much for hosting such a fun challenge Sammy - I hope you enjoy this :)

(a repost because tumblr decided to block me out the tags lmao)

You didn’t think it was possible to cry this much.

Harrison’s standing in front of you, glistening tear tracks running down his rosy cheeks. His eyes shift over your face, guiltily running the lines and curves of your cheeks and your forehead, trying desperately to stay away from your eyes, because you both know that seeing the heartbreak reflected in his icy blue gaze will be too much. Your chest hurts and you’re shaking, but you know that everything he’s said is true. You know that breaking up is for the best.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I still love you,” Harrison tells you quietly. He rocks back on his feet, his teeth grazing his lower lip before he adds, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. The timing just…”

“The timing isn’t right,” you finish. With shaky hands, you reach up behind your neck and your fingers fiddle with the clasp of the necklace Harrison had draped around you, all those months ago. He makes a small sound of objection as the chain falls heavily into your hands and you hold it out in front of you. “Keep it,” you urge. You finally let yourself meet his eyes, and you try to stay strong as you grab his hand and push the chain into his palm. “So you don’t forget about me whilst you’re off being a movie star.”

Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only way Harrison can pursue his dreams is 5,000 miles away, across the Atlantic in America. It’s even more unfair that you can’t go with him because you’re enrolled in university in London. But worst of all, neither of you signed up for a long-distance relationship when you first began dating, and now you’ve had to come to the mutual, heartbreaking decision that breaking up is going to be easier than stringing out a virtual relationship together. It doesn’t matter that you love Harrison more than you’ve ever loved another person, nor that he holds you so closely to his heart that he’s certain you’ve somehow intertwined yourself with his soul: long-distance is too much, and you both think you’ll be too busy to maintain your relationship. Neither of you want to sit by and watch your relationship break down.

So breaking up is simpler, supposedly.

“You should go,” you find yourself saying, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Your hand rests on your front door knob, the cool brass feeling icy against your warm skin. You use your other hand to sweep beneath your cheeks, trying to stop the endless flow of tears from your eyes. “Don’t want you to miss your flight, Haz.”

He runs his hand through his hair, a grimace spread across his face.

“I- Are you sure this is the right choice?” He asks, echoing the words you’ve both been saying for days.

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I know that I can’t stand here waiting for you to walk away any longer.” You release a deep breath. “Just go, Harrison. Please.”

And he looks like he really wants to stay. His feet twitch, as if he’s about to push his way back into your flat and throw himself down on the sofa like he’s done a thousand times before. But his eyes pass over your tearful, heart stricken face, and he finally sighs, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he manages a weak smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he says softly, his lips curving around the words with ease. The way he says your name so fondly causes the pain in your chest to crack and expand.

“Bye, Harrison.”

And then he turns, slowly, and you watch as he drags his feet down the corridor. Harrison pauses when he reaches the staircase, one hand on the door as he casts his eyes back towards you. Your mouth twitches into a smile instinctively: the sight of his face, his loose blond curls, and his friendly smile never fails to make you feel warmer - even now, as he walks out of your life, taking a piece of your heart with him.

You raise your hand in a final wave, and then Harrison steels himself and walks through the door at the end of the corridor, leaving you standing alone in your doorway, a lump in your throat and a weight hanging so heavily in your heart that you know you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

[-----]

Life without Harrison is hard.

Before you’d started dating him a year ago, you hadn’t believed love could feel so fulfilling or right. But then you’d stumbled into him at Tom’s birthday party and you’d immediately hit it off, and everything had changed. You think it would be hard not to instantly fall in love with Harrison: he’s charming, witty, and he carries such a bright light in his eyes that he had you hook, line, and sinker within the first ten minutes of your conversation.

As you try to move on, you find Harrison haunting your every move. You open Instagram and you see his posts and stories staring you right in the face, broadcasting his life out in LA with his new friends and castmates, and it stings. When you strike out and find yourself in the pub with Sam, all you can think about is how you used to frequent the place with him, and your eyes find the corner booth you’d used to sit in, your figure usually curled up in Harrison’s lap. You can almost feel the presence of his slender, delicate fingers wrapped around your waist as you gaze longingly at the booth.

And the most frustrating part of it all? Harrison seems fine. He seems completely unbothered, which just serves to twist the knife further into your chest every time your thumb hovers over his contact photo, or you start writing out a lengthy, emotional text. You’ve heard nothing from him, and it makes you question everything you’d thought you’d had together.

Everything changes one Wednesday night, around six weeks after Harrison had left.

You’re woken up by the loud, shrill ringing of your phone. You try to ignore it at first, groaning as you roll over on your side and try to press your head into your pillows, but it just keeps going, and it seems to rattle louder against your skull the longer it prattles on. So, after releasing a stream of your best expletives, you roll over and snatch it off your bedside table, accepting the call before you’ve even had time to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” You croak, clearing your throat immediately as you hear the fatigue hanging heavy in your throat.

“Y/N.”

Suddenly you’re wide awake.

“Harrison?!” You exclaim, sitting bolt upright. You bring your knees to your chest as you pull the duvet around you, trying to hide beneath the warm sheets as if they’ll protect you from the way that hearing his voice unleashes an onslaught of painful emotions. “What’s going on?”

Harrison doesn’t reply for a few moments, but merely the sound of his level, familiar breathing is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to push them away as your heart races in your chest, so many emotions flying through your heart that it feels consuming.

“Uh, nothing,” he eventually says softly. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

The sound of his chuckle is forced, but it’s so lovely to hear him again that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late,” he says, “‘m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay. I missed your voice.” It slips out before you can really stop it.

“I missed your voice too,” Harrison admits, voice thick. “I miss you so much, Y/N.”

You swallow deeply, running your fingers over the crinkles of your duvet as you think. Your mind runs slowly, clouded with your fatigue and your emotions, and you really don’t know how to take this all, but you know that hearing his voice makes you happy - more happy than you’ve felt in weeks.

“I miss you too,” you mumble down the line. Your fingers ache from how tightly you’re gripping the phone. “How’s LA?”

Harrison chuckles, and you hear a noise in the background as if he’s climbing into a bed. You can almost imagine him: his lanky legs spreading out over the sheets, a low groan slipping past his lips as he stretches out his arms and back. That lazy pink smirk hanging freely from his perfect lips. The image burns into your eyelids.

“LA is mad,” he tells you honestly. “It’s a whole different world over here, Y/N. It’s… It’s exciting, but it’s so different to London. I wish it would all slow down.”

“You’re really busy then?”

He hums lightly. “Yeah. I’m either on-set or doing fittings or rehearsals.”

“Are you having fun?”

Harrison takes a while to ponder your question.

“Yes,” he says, bringing a swell of tears to the front of your eyes. “But I’d be so much happier if you were here too.”

You try to disguise your sniffles, but you’re almost certain he can hear them. “Well… I’m not,” you manage. “I’m glad it’s giving you everything you wanted.”

There’s a very awkward, very thick silence that envelops the line, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your sheets.

“I should let you sleep,” Harrison says, guilt lacing his words. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oh, okay.” Your free hand clenches into a hard fist as you try to stop your lower lip from wobbling. “Don’t worry about it, Haz. I’m always here if you want someone to talk to.” A small smile flicks out across your lips. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.” I love you - those three unspoken words hang between you. You can feel them, surrounding you, smothering you, and you can almost hear them on the tip of Harrison’s tongue, so you jump in to add, “Goodnight, Harrison,” because you really can’t bear to hear them.

You can feel his reluctance, but you release a deep breath as he says, begrudgingly, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You hang up quickly, your fingers trembling as you toss the phone down the bed. The blank screen stares at you, taunting you, and you’re overcome with such a strong sense of regret that you almost reach out and call him back. Your body craves him - his soft, melodic voice, his gentle words, his love.

Your phone starts ringing, and you snatch it back up, eyes taking in the image of Harrison’s contact photo as he flashes over the screen. You accept it without a second thought.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”

The relieved smile on your face shows no sign of budging. “I don’t wanna say goodnight either, Haz.”

[-----]

It’s a bad habit, but for the entire time Harrison is away, you end up on the phone with him each evening. The first few times had been fairly spontaneous, but soon it becomes a habit: every day, as Harrison finishes filming, he gives you a call and you have a long, rambling conversation. It breaks up your sleep, but you grow so used to it that you start setting an alarm at 1.50am just so you can grab a cup of tea and wake yourself up before he calls.

It’s definitely inadvisable to stay so connected to your ex-boyfriend, but it feels too good to quit. Harrison is your drug, and every time you hang up the phone, you’re left feeling sad and hollow inside. But it eases the pain of having him so far away, and maybe a part of you deludes yourself by reasoning that your calls are helping you get over him: cutting him out completely was too hard, but maybe sharing these phone calls will help you. Eventually he’ll stop calling, and you’ll be able to heal, because you’ll have practised saying goodbye so many times it’ll feel normal.

But Harrison doesn’t stop calling, and you don’t stop answering, and soon enough, he’s been away for six months, and he’s preparing to move back to London, his film complete.

You don’t really know where you stand with him, if you’re being completely honest. He’s still your ex - but you’re still helplessly in love with him, and you’re fairly sure that most exes don’t spend hours on the phone each day, chatting and laughing like you’re still together. You try to bring it up with him, but every time you start the conversation, your heart clenches in your chest and you wimp out.

You ignore the difficult conversation for as long as you can - which lasts until you hear a loud knock on your front door, and you know that it’s him.

It feels almost like a gravitational pull, drawing you back to his figure. You’ve spent all day pacing your flat, fussing over your hair and your outfit, but for the entire time you’ve spent waiting on his flight arriving, you haven’t been sure if you’d be able to open the door and face him. But now you know that he’s here, your heart seems to act of your own accord.

You wrench your door open, and immediately you’re pulled into a tight, crushing hug. It knocks the air out of your lungs and you wheeze as you feel that familiar set of curls brushing up against your neck, and you feel a few tears slip from your eyes as you take it all in. He’s back.

“Haz,” you exclaim, your voice choked with tears. His hands move over your back, clinging to you, drawing you as close as possible as his rich, earthy cologne invades your system. It doesn’t even matter that his jacket has a collection of chilly raindrops clinging to the leather, because it feels so fucking perfect to have him so near you again that you can’t focus on anything other than him.

“I missed you,” he whimpers, as he pulls away from your neck. His large hands fall on your shoulders as he stares at you intently, his focused eyes whipping the air from your lungs. He looks so cute that you can’t really stop yourself from shifting closer and pressing your lips to his. Immediately you relax, and he does too, and he kisses you back softly. Your mouths are tender at first, pressing together softly - testingly - but as you wrap your hands around his waist and bring him closer, it deepens. Your mind spins with dizzy, overwhelming happiness as you revel in the feeling of Harrison, enjoying him utterly, your heart thrumming happily against your ribs.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble against his lips, kissing him between each word. Your fingers drift into his hair, and you smile as he hums in agreement.

“We are so stupid,” he says, drawing a laugh from your lips. “Can’t believe we ever thought breaking up was for the best.” His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whisper, moving to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Harrison brings you into a warm hug, and you let him hold you as you breathe him in. “I missed you. I love you.” You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes gleefully. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”

Harrison reaches down and pulls a familiar, glinting chain from his pocket. Your gaze softens as you pull away from him and tilt your head, letting him wrap the necklace back around your neck. The H pendant settles gently over your chest, and it feels like coming home.

“Perfect,” he comments, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or the necklace, but you’re willing to accept either.

With a warm smile on your face, you move aside and welcome him inside. “D’you want a cup of tea?” You offer.

Harrison steps across the threshold and presses a final, loving kiss to your lips. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

----

m-list

send me some feedback?

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield oneshot #sammy's summer writing challenge

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mggsimp4life · 3 years

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No blueberries

—————————————

Summary: Spencer and the reader go to dinner for a date but the BAU has other plans.

Request: Yes/No

Word count:1025

TW: none slight hint at ex drug use

Pairing: Spencer X Fem!reader

A/N: This fic ia in third person btw(&the song below infires this fic)

——————————————————————

Spencer stares at himself in the mirror and tries to style his hair. “This doesn’t look right,” he says looking at his reflection and messing his hair up. His phone rings and when he doesn’t bother to look at the caller ID. “hello?” he says into the phone. “Hello resident genius we’ve got a case,” Garcia says on the other line. Spencer hangs up Immediately and calls his lover. “Sorry my love the team called and I have to go,” Spencer tells you.

“I understand dear just come back to me safely” I respond with a smile even though he can’t see me. I wish him good luck and tell him I love you then hang up. I’m not gonna say I’m used to it because we only recently started dating about six months ago. We met at a bookstore both of us looking for a others felt the same way I did. Turns out Spencer wanted that too we found that about each other. He asked me out on the same day. I begin to get unready for the night and head into bed. I text him goodnight/good morning not knowing where he is.

Spencer sees the text sent to him once he reaches the hotel room. “Hey, pretty boy what are you smiling at?” Morgan asks as he exits the bathroom. For a split second, Spencer forgot he wasn’t rooming alone. “Just a message from a friend talking about chess and how he relates it to life,” Spencer tells him. Morgan looks at him with an eyebrow raised. “I’m serious” Spencer tells his friend.

“If you say so pretty boy” Morgan says back as he walks to his bed for the night. Spencer heads into the bathroom to wash up. When he returns Spencer heads straight to bed.

The sun shines through the window and right into Spencer’s face. He soon wakes and gets ready. He wakes morgan up and they head for coffee before going back to the precinct. “Good morning crime fighters I have a new lead on the unsub, it’s not a good lead” Garcia says through the speaker once everyone gets inside the conference room. “Chase feilding went missing last night with his girlfriend from a county over.” Garcia tells them the details as Hotch tells prentiss and morgan to head to that county.

Spencer takes as little time as possible to finish the geographical profile so he can call his lover. “Hey Spence is the geo-profile finishes?” JJ comes in and asks him just as he pulls his phone out. “Oh I was gonna go get you, the geo-profile is finished and I need to make a call.” Spencer says rushing out of the room. JJ just stares in disbelief then calls Hotch.

Meanwhile Spencer calls his lover. “Hello my dearest i hope you woke up with love and all good things.” He smiles as the words leave his mouth. “As do I my love, I yearn for you’re safe return” He hears from the other end. “Enough cheese, time of return?” She asks him. “Uhh 3 am maybe? Why do you ask?” He says questioning her. “You know I ask everytime, I just miss you extra this time, also next time just let it go to voicemail” He hears her say and laugh on the other end. “Reid Prentis and Morgan just arrived and it’s time for the profile.” JJ comes outside to tell him. “Yes thank you doctor for updating me on my mothers condition” Spencer says and quickly hangs up. The voice on the other end laughs at that and quickly messages him an ‘I love you dork, can’t wait to see you soon’ Spencer sees the message as he delivers the profile.

The team finds the unsub waiting to kill the next couple right in their home. The team is getting ready to board the jet when JJ pulls Spencer aside. “Hey you know you can talk to me right? About anything” She tells him with worry on her face. “I’m aware but nothing is going on” He tells her and boards the jet. “What was that about?” Emily asks JJ on the jet far away from the genius doctor. “He’s been acting a little off lately” JJ responds to her. “Maybe theres something new or wrong with his mother” Emily tells JJ trying to ease her worries.

The pilot's voice comes through the speakers about landing soon cutting their conversion short. Both of the women head back to their seats and buckle in. The jet land safely and the team gets into the SUV’s. They head straight towards the federal building. When they get their the team sees Garcia chatting with someone in the bullpen. “Hey Penelope who’s-’ “My Love ! at last you have returned!” The woman shouts and runs directly into Spencer’s arms. “I thought it was odd when she didn’t call” Morgan says to the rest of the team who’s still unsure of the identity of that woman. “Oh righ uh everyone this is my girlfriend, Y/n” Spencer introduces his girlfriend. “Nice to meet you all, I’ve been waiting to meet you all but now i’ve got to take my boyfriend on a date” She tells them and then drags Spencer to his desk where a Ice cream cake waits. “Wow this looks tasty” He smiles and pecks her cheek in form of thanks. “There’s a but coming I can feel it” She responds to him. “I don’t like blueberries very much” He tells her not trying to make her feel bad.

“I love them my dearest so I’ll eat them” she boops his nose and pecks his lips. The team is still near the glass doors as they see the event go down. “They look in love, uh like us! Handsome” Garcia says. Morgan laughs “This ight explain his recent behavior” Emily tells JJ. “Let me guess you thought Spencer could be using again didn’t you?” Rossi adds to the conversation. JJ nods “I can see that I was wrong now, I’m very happy for him.” The rest of the team agrees and individually goes to their desks.

#tw: drugs #criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg x reader series #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader series #spencer reid x reader series #spencer reid smut #mgg blurb #mgg x reader #mggsimp4life one shot

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david-akintunde · 3 years

Text

10 Tips To Boost Your Email Open Rates

Here is a simple talisman for success if you’re an email marketer — higher email open rates mean more conversions. Sounds obvious? Even then, many organizations don’t end up writing emails that subscribers want to open. A study by MailChimp found that email open rates are just at 21.33% across all industries.

In a quick glance, this figure looks ok. But is it really? Suppose you have an email list comprising a whopping 15,000 subscribers. With a 21.33% conversion rate, only a mere 3199 leads are ever going to see your emails, and fewer will take any action.

Remember, there comes a point, when it doesn’t matter how extensive your email list is, but how many prospects within that list open your emails. If within the same list of 15,000 subscribers, your open rates go up to 50%, you end up with 7500 leads engaging with your pitch.

So, how do you get here? By following these 10 hacks that are sure to improve your email open rates:

1. Don’t Forget to Segment your Email List

Without email list segmentation, you cannot personalize your emails. While you can categorize your email list under parameters most relevant to you, try these three segments for starters.

Segment based on:

Demography

Challenges and pain points

Like and dislikes

2. Get your Subject Line Right

Your subject line alone is what encourages prospects to open your email. It also helps form your brand’s first impression. So, craft it well! How?

Personalize it for your target audience. Write more than one subject sentence for, say, different age groups, even if the product you’re pitching is the same.

Hold back on using too many punctuations like exclamation marks. You’d be surprised how commonly marketers use more than one exclamation point in subject lines for emphasis. Choose to emphasize with your words instead.

Keep it concise and avoid vagueness.

Draft it in the form of a question, if you can.

Use powerful words and phrases. These stir emotion and arouse curiosity. For example, the image below uses a power word like “sanity-saving.”

Source: Smart Blogger

3. Get your Email Timing Right

Remember, leads will read your emails at different times in different parts of the world. Some will read them late at night, while others will do so in the morning. Leverage whichever email automation tool you use to track the time most of your prospects read your emails.

Once you have an optimal time, send emails accordingly to boost open as well as click-through rates. Also, as a general rule of thumb, avoid sending marketing emails over weekends. Several studies have now revealed that weekends are the most inopportune time to send promotional communication.

4. Get your Email Frequency Right

Nobody, and that even includes you wants their inbox to be bombarded with too many promotional emails from one brand. Not only does this single-handedly bring down your open rates, but the prospect can blacklist you or mark you as spam.

Simply put, strike the right balance with your audience. Generally, sending emails twice or thrice and no more makes for a healthy frequency that doesn’t annoy prospects.

5. Re-engage with the Dormant Prospects

All email lists have prospects who haven’t opened promotional emails from certain brands in months. Your list is likely no different. Weed them out! And scout for new prospects.

But, before identifying and deleting them from your email list, make sure to draft and deploy a re-engagement campaign. Maybe, this campaign contains time-limited offers or personalized deals to re-engage passive leads.

6. Send Emails using an Official Email ID

No matter how small your business is at this point, don’t use your Gmail or Hotmail ids to send out marketing communication. Such a practice will likely land you in the prospect’s junk pile. Use a domain email address that carries your brand name to stay out of spam filters and boost your open rates.

7. Ensure a High Deliverability Rate

Unfortunately, over 20% of marketing emails don’t land up in your prospects’ inboxes. These emails bounce because of:

Temporary server issues on both ends

Sending emails to abandoned or obsolete email ids

Prospects who accidentally blacklist you

Upping your deliverability rate will automatically boost open rates. You can do this by:

Sending reminder emails requesting your subscribers to whitelist you.

Confirm if a prospect has willingly subscribed to your list by asking them to click on a link sent to their inbox.

8. Avoid using Certain Words in Email Subject Line and Body

Stay away from phrases and words that make your email seem less authentic. For instance, “Urgent,” “free stuff for you,” “you have won,” and several others. Think of these phrases similar to swear words in email marketing.

9. Send the Same Email Once More

Sometimes your prospects want to open your email, but they simply forget or get distracted. And, once they do, they won’t revisit your email. To avoid this situation, resend the same email to subscribers who didn’t open your first email.

Don’t worry about being too intrusive here. You’d be happy to know that this is not an uncommon practice used by marketers to boost their open rates.

10. Don’t only Send Promotional Content

Sure, the ultimate goal for your brand is to sell its wares, but this doesn’t mean all your emails must carry a sales pitch. Share informational or educational content to make your email campaigns more engaging. Help them gain light on their challenges through blogs, case studies, etc. When you send a mixed bag of email content, you are more likely to increase your open rates.

Conclusion

With these 10 tips, you can undoubtedly experience higher open rates, eventually translating into more conversions. As for subscribers who, even after all the attempts, don’t open your emails, it’s best to let them go! After all, not all subscribers turn into qualified leads, and that’s ok.

Three Tips For Writing Marketing Email Subject Lines People Actually Want To Open

Sales, marketing and branding expert. CEO of GoPromotional, distributor of promotional products with a focus on online business development.

When was the last time you sent an email? Did you know that, according to Statista, roughly 306 billion emails were estimated to have been sent and received every single day in 2020? There are only about 7.7 billion people on Earth. Let that sink in. Now, ask yourself this: How many of the emails you receive every day do you actually read? More specifically, how many of the promotional emails you receive do you open at all?

With all the benefits of the information age, it’s important to remember that we’re utterly swamped with information to an extent we’ve never experienced before. So if you want to get through to people — if you’re an e-marketer whose goal is to reach as many targets as possible via mass emails — you’ll have to put in some thought and get creative. This is a game of subject lines, and your job is to master it by crafting engaging, inviting, tempting and even daring email subject lines that will grab attention — even if it’s just long enough for a click.

The fear of missing out is your ally.

FOMO is real, and it’s powerful. For the uninitiated, “FOMO” stands for “fear of missing out,” and while it may be a behavioral trend brought about by our rapidly developing internet infrastructure, it is a valuable marketing tool. No matter what you’re missing — a new blow dryer, a different kind of juice or a wedding — the point is that you’re missing something. Maybe you just don’t know about it yet.

FOMO will be of great use to you as you draft up effective subject lines. Don’t just stop with basic additions such as “act fast,” “for a limited time” or “while supplies last.” Go all the way and use numbers. What makes you want to move faster: “while supplies last” or “three hours left?” The fewer details, the better. This is all about getting your target to open the email. Don’t worry about telling them what ends in three hours. Let them find out for themselves.

Less is sometimes more.

We’re all busy. Nobody has time to read your spiel. Yes, that even includes your 10-word subject line. How many of the hundred emails you received today had 10 words in their subject lines? It adds up, and, at some point, it just looks like alphabet soup. Crafting an email subject line is all about visuals. In my experience, a short, quippy subject line can catch the eye of someone looking at their email inbox because it helps break up the sea of text.

Consider shortening a subject line such as “New jeans from Lucky Brand, Calvin Klein, Collection by Michael Strahan and more” to something more like, “Lucky. Calvin. Strahan.” You can call it a laconic method if you want, but when you treat every word like it’s a scarce commodity, they instantly appear more important.

Laugh it up.

I think we can all agree that email is no longer the stuffy, daunting, formal affair it may have once been. Email is something we do without even thinking. It’s on our phones. It’s how we confirm toothpaste orders. It’s like socks: totally ubiquitous. And consider this: More and more, your target audience is made up of people who weren’t even born before email was invented. These consumers grew up in the beginnings of a post-advertising era, when I believe traditional advertising began to lose its grip. They know a promotional email when they see one.

The solution? Laugh it up. Be a little self-aware. I’ve found that millennials and Generation Z pick up on self-awareness, and they appreciate it. Make fun of yourself a little; it can’t hurt. Switch out your stock enthusiasm for deadpan humor. Be honest. Instead of, “This week’s top picks just for you,” for example, you could try, “We want your money.” The content matters, but what matters more is getting your target interested.

Remember, the meat and potatoes are in the body of your email, but the subject is your alluring dessert. You can have dessert before dinner — as long as you eat.

Forbes Business Council is the foremost growth and networking organization for business owners and leaders. Do I qualify?

Your Email Marketing Is Destined To Fail Without These 3 Essentials

Opinions expressed by Entrepreneur contributors are their own.

Think email marketing is all spam? Think again! In a world where marketing pitches come at us from all angles and on every device, email marketing has held steady as the favored channel for consumers. When used well, this platform can help you attract, convert, close and delight your buyers. Don’t underestimate it — your company’s email strategy can make or break you.

When it comes to building a successful email-marketing strategy, there are three specific elements that will help you achieve your business goals or move you further away from them, depending on how well you use them.

Let’s take a closer look at each of them.

1. Frequency

Nobody wants to get ten emails a day from a subscription. It doesn’t matter if the content is brilliant, useful or undeniably accurate. Your leads will get annoyed if you send them too much information. Even though they might read it (with some luck), at some point, they’ll feel bothered and eventually click the unsubscribe button.

Avoid losing contacts by not only asking their desired frequency to get your emails, but also by relying on your metrics. Don’t pay too much attention to your open rate alone — look closely at your click-through rate too. This will indicate how interested your leads are and how often they take action to prove it.

While every industry and situation is different, a good place to start with email-marketing cadence is about once per week. This establishes a relationship with your subscribers that can turn into a habit-forming routine. Being too timid about frequency can lead to a sporadic cadence that will end up irritating recipients. If you wait too long between emails, even opt-in subscribers may report you for spam — simply because you’ve let them forget all about you!

2. Relevance

While subscribers may certainly become frustrated by the frequency of your emails, they are more likely to become annoyed if your content is not relevant to their interests and needs.

Relevance is a tricky concept because it depends on many factors like the consumer’s knowledge level, his or her stage in the buyer’s journey and good timing. You must know your audience in order to understand what type of content they want.

Specifically, you need to know what they want from you, which is often dictated by where they are in the buyer’s journey. Are they ready to buy? Are they trying to get valuable information? Are they looking to solve a problem? Are you able to solve that problem?

In every industry, there are two types of buyers: “now” buyers, who are progressing down the purchase funnel, and future buyers, who have no interest in or need for your product currently, but may down the road. For future buyers, the relevance of your content is what’s most important to them; it’s what builds the brand trust that will bring them back to you when they are ready to buy.

Finally, timing is everything. Relevance is about getting the right content to the right person at the right time.

3. Action

We receive emails basically everywhere — at home, work and while on the go. When receiving an email, we may take a look at it immediately, but sometimes it requires further action like submitting a form, watching a video or visiting a website. Try to reduce or streamline required actions in order to make it easy for contacts to follow through at any time of day.

First and foremost, make your offers simple. Your buyers don’t like to be given too many choices; when they are, they often won’t buy anything at all. Even in the physical world, this is the case. In the famous “jam study” by Columbia Business School Professor Sheena Iyengar, for example, she set out two tasting booths for a brand of jam. One table offered six flavors to choose from; the other offered 24.

While the tasting booth with 24 flavors attracted more people, the booth with six flavors sold much more jam — 30% of those who stopped at the booth bought a jar, compared to just 3% of those who stopped at the table with 24 varieties. These visitors were too confused and overwhelmed to make a purchase decision.

The difference between stopping at a booth and buying from a booth is similar to the difference between opening an email and clicking through to an offer. Your email campaigns must be able to achieve both to be successful. The more personalized and concise you can be in your offers, the simpler the choice will be for your email subscribers.

BONUS To enjoy the best email marketing software, click here

#email campaign #email marketing #mailchimp #email marketing tips #email marketing tutorial #email marketing trends #email marketing automation #email marketing strategy #email marketing plan

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

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New Light

Barry Allen x Reader

(Quick Note: Happy Inauguration Day! After all the craziness and stress four years in the making, I wanted to write someone as kindhearted and sweet as Barry Allen.)

(Word Count: 1837)

“I’m on my way, Felicity, my train was running late—“

A hard shoulder slamming into your chest cut you off mid sentence and knocked you all the way to the hard ground.

Between the roar of trains coming in and out of the platform, shuffling footsteps, and your friend’s worried yelling through the phone, disoriented was a nice way of putting it. Your still head was spinning as you stumbled to your feet.

“Oh my, oh my god, I am so sorry—let me, uh— and you’re...already...up.” He rambled.

So it was a man who ran into you. And he was going on and on nervously as he picked up your fallen items. He had a thin build and dark hair, but you could only focus on his clumsy hands and apologetic eyes.

“It’s totally fine, just be careful next time.” You joked and pushed your braids away from your face.

The man rose to his feet and held your phone and purse out towards you. As you took them and gave him your best smile. There was something about his absentmindedness that was kind of charming and intriguing.

“I, uh, um...Barry Allen. I’m Barry Allen....Barry is my name.” He said.

You held in your laugh for fear of flustering him more and settled on a curious gaze. Barry wiped a hand on his back pocket and offered it to you.

“Nice to meet you, Barry. I’m Y/N.” You replied as you shook his hand.

You decided to omit the Queen part of your name, for now. Barry seemed sweet and genuinely interested in you. Having a dead father, a brother back from the dead, an out of control sister, and a mother on trial for mass murder tended to scare away any potential partners. You shifted your weight.

You had to get going sooner rather than later, but not wanting to let Barry go just yet, you took out a pen out of your purse and wrote your number on his palm.

“Try not to mow anyone else down today, and maybe give me a call if you're still in town, Barry.” You told him.

He stuttered through a response and turned a bright pink. You nodded with a smile and promptly walked off to your awaiting car.

“Barry Allen.” You repeated his name out loud once inside and heat built up in your cheeks. You hoped he’d call.

...

Oliver was waiting in his office for you when you walked up to the entrance of Queen Consolidated.

Pushing through the glass doors, you didn’t spare a second thought on the curious stares people sent you, you had spent your whole life getting them. A ping on your phone made you smile as soon as you saw it.

Sorry I ran you over earlier...I don’t really know places to go out here, but I could find somewhere if you still wanted to go out with me?—Barry Allen (from the train station, sorry again!)

A warm, bubbly feeling took over your whole body. Barry gave you a feeling you had rarely experienced: he was genuinely good. You needed some positivity in the midst of your chaotic life.

Before you could reply back, a woman’s voice and body stood in your way. You had only made it to the front desk.

“Excuse me—“

“No unauthorized personnel, here.” She explained.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked up from your phone. Tons of other people were free and clear to pass by, but of course you, the black girl was stopped. Clicking your tongue, you tried to move past her.

“Do you have an ID for Queen Consolidated? If you don’t I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call the police.” She said.

Bullshit.

“My name is Y/N Queen. Move.” You sniped. You were already running late as it was, but today of all days a white girl just had to try you.

“I’ve never heard of you. I’m calling the police.” She threatened. Her hand was already on the buttons. You huffed. What had started as an annoyance had escalated into full blown danger.

You quickly dialed your brother’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“You’re late, Y/N.” Oliver chastised from the other end.

“Actually, I’m downstairs being blocked from the elevator, in a building we own, and a company we have shares in. Get down here, now.”

For a few tortuous minutes, you stood there waiting at a stalemate. The security was bounding down the steps; they were big men in dark suits and earpieces.

You ran your tongue on the roof of your mouth, a mix of anger and fear and shame. Oliver wasn’t supposed to bail you out. You were just as much a Queen as he was and should’ve had the same access as he did. You ground your teeth and folded your arms.

You were relieved when the elevator dinged and Oliver stepped out of it.

His eyes widened in surprise for a split second, before the realization of what was happening sunk in. To anyone that didn’t know him, Oliver might have looked calm. But the clenched jaw, pulled back lip corners and the way he furled and unfurled his hands as he adjusted his suit said otherwise.

“Who told you that you could physically block and try to remove my sister from the area?” He said with a straight face, staring directly at the woman.

You smirked as she stumbled through a range of bullshit excuses and ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Queen’ over and over again to no avail.

Oliver protectively ushered you into the elevator, but before the doors could close you yelled, “Might wanna see who’s hiring!”

On the way up, you brushed off Oliver’s questions and concerns. You had lived your entire life black, this was nothing new to you. But after five years away, it probably was to him. You weren’t a teenager standing by his or your dad’s side anymore.

“I’m fine, Ollie. Drop it, please.” You pleaded.

��That woman was going to call the police on you, Y/N.” He continued, still bewildered.

“I get that being on that island wasn’t your fault, but I’ve held my own as a black woman for five years without you or dad. Things like that are just a part of the package.” You explained.

As the two of you stepped off the elevator, you softened when he gave you a long hug. It was his apology, and you leaned in, accepting it. Five years was a long time away.

“I only came by to check in on you. With the break in and all, plus Mom’s party tonight...” You trailed off.

Oliver offered a small smile as the two of you rounded the corner. You blinked in surprise when you saw none other than Barry Allen talking to Felicity. Your mood instantly brightened.

“Barry!” You called out. At the sound of his name, he saw you and fell flat on his face. Clumsiness was becoming a theme between you two. You hurried over and helped him up.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed, but Barry stared at you, confused. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really.

“Hi-hi again, Y/N...What are you doing h-here?” He asked. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really. Too bad Oliver had to ruin it.

“Barry, how do you know my little sister?” He said it, more than asked it.

Oliver gave Barry an icy glare. The threat in his voice may have had an effect on everyone else, but it made you roll your eyes in annoyance. He just had to add the little sister part. Barry straightened up and swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process.

Damn it, Oliver. You two were very hot and cold lately and it bothered you to no end.

“I met him this morning, Ollie, mind your business.” You snapped. You turned back to Barry and smiled.

“There’s a party at our house tonight, you should drop by if my idiot brother doesn’t kill you first. Text me for the address.” You declared. Your eyes burned with defiance as you stormed off, matching Oliver’s mood. You guessed you really were siblings.

As you left, you hoped Barry would show.

...

The annual Queen family Christmas party was honestly, the most awkward two hours of your life.

You, Moira, Thea, and Oliver stood in an almost empty living room. The only guests seemed to be the caterers. Barry hadn’t texted you, either.

“Maybe...people got lost on the way.” You offered. Moira smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

“Thank you, dear, but we all know the real reason. Nobody wants to be seen with the likes of me.” She said. She was right. You shot her an apologetic look and handed her another drink.

Oliver took the opportunity to whisk you away from your mother and sister, “Y/N, help me with the drinks, please.”

You obliged without protest. You had already been stood up by half the city and Barry. Family really was all you had.

“What, Ollie?” You asked in an exasperated tone.

“I know that you took on a lot, while I was on the island. And I know that being the oldest wasn’t easy, especially for you in the public eye. I read the tabloids.”

Oliver’s admission made you a little teary eyed. He was the first person in the family to truly consider you family. He was your big brother. He caught up on all of the horrible headlines and rumors that swirled about you after the news broke about the Queen’s Gambit.

“Which is why I invited someone special, tonight. For you.” Oliver said. You raised a brow in confusion.

“I’m not that great over text.” You turned around and your mouth dropped open a little. It was Barry, in a really nice suit looking finer than ever. You gave him a hug and he took your hand.

“I’m also not a great dancer, I’ll try not to step on your toes.” He admitted. You led him to the dance floor and nodded to the musicians.

“Don’t worry about it. There isn’t much of a crowd to judge you.” You joked.

You and Barry swayed to the music, talking and laughing the whole way through. Barry Allen, you found, really was the ray of light you needed in the moment. The past few months were some of the hardest in your life, filled with dark moments and uncertainty.

As Barry held you and told you corny science jokes and yes, stepped on your toes once or twice, you realized you had never met anyone as sweet and as kind as him.

When the night was over, you couldn’t help but look forward to the next time you saw him.

#black!reader #poc!reader #dctv #barry allen #barry allen x reader #oliver queen #Oliver Queen x platonic! reader #Oliver Queen x sister! reader #the flash #arrow

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snelbz · 4 years

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The Ranch {17}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian groaned as he shoveled the last of the manure into the wheelbarrow and Azriel grabbed the handles and pushed it off to the side. With the rain that had blown through the night before, the pen was a muddy, nasty, literal shitty mess. His boots sunk down past his ankles and every step was a battle not to step right out of it, leaving it in the sludge.

The autumn air was finally starting to cool down, but that didn’t stop the sweat from forming on Cassian’s brow. He lifted the hem of his shirt.

“Where’s Nes at today?” Az asked, taking a drink from his bottle. Cassian wasn’t sure if he had water in there or something else, but he shrugged.

“Not sure exactly. She said she had some errands to run and she’d see me later, but that was at eight this morning.”

He suddenly realized he didn’t know how long ago that was. Tomas had been appearing more and more. It seemed like every time the two of them were out, they’d see him.

“I should probably check-in.” He said, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He didn’t even have to open his phone though because he had two missed texts from her.

What time are you meeting me?

And a few minutes after that, he received, Where are you?

It was like a light bulb turned on.

Azriel saw the look on his face. “What happened?”

He looked down at himself, sweaty and up to his knees in manure. “I’m in deep shit.”

Nesta sat in the waiting room, one hand tapping on the side table where her phone was sitting, the other rubbing her growing belly. The bump had decided to finally make its appearance in the last week and both Nesta and Cassian had a hard time not constantly rubbing a loving hand over it.

If he forgot about this appointment, she was going to kill him.

Her phone rang and his name appeared. She tried to keep the bite out of her voice and completely failed as she answered, “Hello.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, in a way of greeting, and it was clear he was completely frazzled.

“They’ll be calling me back any minute, Cass,” she whined, totally not caring that she was whining in a room full of people.

The pregnant ones understood.

“It’s a ten-minute drive, and I’m pulling out of the driveway now,” he said, and true to his word, she could hear the old truck engine revving in the background. “I’m sorry, okay? I was shoveling shit.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You better be here soon or I’ll have your balls.”

There was a pause. “You may want to pick a different threat, that one kind of turns me on.”

Nesta’s lips tightened. “I’m hanging up now.”

“I love you,” he said.

Nesta sighed, loudly and dramatically. “Love you.” Then she hung up, just as the door to the office opened and a nurse stepped out. “Nesta Archeron?”

Grabbing her purse, Nesta brought herself to her feet and followed the nurse down the hall, all by herself, Cassian-less.

Oh, she would have his balls, for sure.

Thirteen minutes later, Cassian was hurrying into the office, an entire room full of patients turning to stare at him. He hurried to the counter, where a young woman was checking in and he waited, not so patiently. When it was his turn, the receptionist didn’t even glance up as she said “Next.”

Cassian stepped up and said, “My fiancée was called back a few minutes ago. Nesta Archeron?”

She continued typing away at her computer. “And?”

Cassian blinked. “And I need to get back there so I can hear my kid’s heartbeat?”

“Are you on the approved list of guests?”

“Approved list of-? Ma’am, I’m the baby’s father.” He was starting to get frustrated. Nesta was literally going to cut his balls off if he missed their gender appointment.

She finally looked up at him, eyes widening at just how much mud and shit he was covered in. “I’m afraid that doesn’t automatically add you to the list. We have to have Ms. Archeron’s approval before we can let you join her.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Can you ask her?”

She went back to typing. “She’s in an examination. I’m afraid I can’t disturb her.”

“For the love…” Cassian pulled out his phone, dialing Nesta’s number.

She answered on the second ring. “Where are you?”

Lovely. She was pissed.

“I’m here. I’m in the lobby. The receptionist won’t let me back.” He glared at her, but she didn’t look up. He knew she heard him though.

Nesta gasped. “Oh, crap, the approved list of guests. I’ll have my nurse add you now.”

She ended the call and Cassian blinked. Why in the hell did everyone know about this stupid list but him?

A nurse in her late twenties came through a door in the office. She handed a slip to the receptionist that he recognized as Nesta’s signature. The receptionist glanced at it and said, “I’ll need to see your driver’s license, Mister…” She glanced down at the form again. “Nazeeri.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed the ID to her, saying “Nazari.”

She typed some information into the computer, the only time she’d done so where Cassian didn’t assume she was trying to ignore him. She handed him his ID back and said, “Follow Claire.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and did as he was told. As soon as they left the waiting room, Claire said, “Sorry about Jenny. She’s been in a bad mood for the past few weeks.”

“Apparently so,” Cassian mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was led through a winding hallway before following the nurse into an open doorway, where Nesta sat on an examination table, her arms crossed.

She took one look at Cassian's appearance and her lips tightened.

“I was-.”

“Yeah, I know,” she snapped, then laid back against the table. “Let’s just do this.”

Exasperated, Cassian sat down in the chair beside her while Claire, who had already taken Nesta’s vitals and information, went to get the doctor.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, when the door was shut and they were alone. “It was either this or go get cleaned up and changed and then being late and missing it all.”

“You’re already late,” she said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Cassian said, slower. “Later, then.”

“Isn’t this important to you?” She asked. “We’re finding out the gender-.”

“I know, I know,” he said, quickly, and took her hand in his. “And yeah, it’s pretty fucking important, alright? I just lost track of time, that’s all. It was a mess out there.”

She scrunched her nose and looked at him through her side-eye. “You do smell like shit. No wonder the receptionist didn’t want to let you back here.”

Cassian mumbled something along the lines of approved list, my ass, but stood and kissed her softly. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi yourself.”

He sat back down and groaned. “This morning was bad. We got so much rain last night.”

Nesta nodded. “When I went to get the eggs out of dry storage, I nearly stepped into a swamp off the back steps.”

“The pen by the house is flooded,” he said, leaning forward and resting his knees on his elbows. “Az and I spent the whole morning moving the herd to the back pasture. He’s gonna go rent a tractor and clean it out today, but I’d guess that the ‘horseback riding’ won’t be happening before dinner.”

Nesta sighed. She was going to have a lot of angry guests over that. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t control the weather.

The door opened and the doctor stepped in. “Miss Archeron, how are we feeling today?”

“Good,” she sighed, all things considered. “I’ve yet to puke so far today, so I’m considering it a win.”

The doctor chuckled and pulled up a stool to Nesta’s side. “Well, your vitals look great so all we have to do now is take a look at this baby. Are you ready?”

Nesta nodded, her hand tightening in Cassian’s as the doctor switched the monitor on and pulled out the little device that would be moving over Nesta’s abdomen.

She hated that thing.

It was always unusually cold.

“Pull up your shirt for me, and lower your waistband,” her doctor smiled, waiting patiently as Nesta did so, then she looked up at the screen and waited.

The probe touched her belly and the screen was met with black static, then, a tiny little, gray-blurred being appeared. Cassian couldn’t really tell what was what, but he knew from Nesta’s smile that they were looking at the baby.

Their baby.

He sat in awe, his hand still in his fiancée’s as the doctor showed them the little feet, the little hands, the little head and lips and nose. The baby was real, growing inside of her, it was actually happening - she was becoming a mother. He was going to be a father.

When they were done making sure the baby was growing as it should be, after the measurements were taken and some pictures were snapped, the doctor asked, “Would you still like to know the gender?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes, please, but don’t actually tell us.”

He chuckled. “Gender reveal party?”

She nodded.

He turned the monitor away and typed a few things on the screen, before he printed three black and white images. They went straight into an opaque envelope and he sealed it before handing it to Cassian. “Congratulations.”

He extended a hand and Cassian hesitated, looking down at his own dirty hand. “I don’t think you want to. It’s exactly what you think it is.”

He laughed and said, “Understood. Miss Archeron, I’ll see you in four weeks. Keep an eye on that blood pressure.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir, thank you, Dr. Brigham.”

He smiled and left the room and Cassian slowly turned to look at her. She was beaming and Cassian could barely stand how gorgeous she was.

Pregnancy was treating Nesta well. Her morning sickness was still abhorrent and her back constantly hurt, but aside from that, it wasn’t bad. Her emotions had mellowed out, for the most part, and with Azriel and Maggie’s help around the B&B, they had been able to handle everything they’d thrown at them.

Except for Nesta’s nightly nightmares.

She’d spoken to Dr. Brigham about them and he assured Nesta that weird sleep habits were just a part of pregnancy, including nightmares. So every night, Nesta would wake up in a cold sweat, never remembering anything but the dream. She’d always say the same thing, though:

“He’s getting closer”.

“How does lunch sound?” Cassian asked, helping her off the examination table. “I’m starving.”

Nesta chuckled, “You stink.”

He shrugged. “We’ll sit outside. Come on, baby, when is the last time we got to spend time together that wasn’t about the B&B?

He skimmed his thumb over her cheekbone and she melted into his touch. “Fine. Lunch. But then we have to get back.”

Cassian nodded and flipped the envelope in his fingers. He held it up. “Our baby is in here.”

She laughed again. “Actually, she’s in here.” Nesta lovingly rubbed her stomach.

He raised an eyebrow. “She? Did you see something on that ultrasound that I didn’t?” His eyes narrowed. “Did you peek?”

“No!” She laughed, shaking her head and taking his hand. “Just a...feeling I have. Call it mother’s intuition.”

They left the room and headed back to the lobby, where Nesta made her follow up appointment with the surly faced receptionist. They got to their vehicles and Cassian looked at the envelope again. He glanced up at Nesta. “I’m gonna open it.”

She snatched it from him and stuffed it into her purse. “I’m taking this directly to the bakery.”

“Not even going to let your sisters see it?” Cassian asked, leaning against the truck.

She snorted. “Of course not, they’d tell one of us before the end of the day.”

Cassian laughed, his hand lovingly caressing her bump, and said “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. I love you both.”

She leaned up and kissed him, “I love you, too.”

Cassian got into his truck, the engine roaring to life, and headed off in the direction of the restaurant while Nesta walked the ultrasound to the bakery across the square.

She had the sensation of being watched the whole time, had felt someone’s eyes on her since they walked out of the doctor’s office. As she climbed back in her car, she fought the urge to look around and find him.

She knew he was there, but after so many calls to the police where he’d done nothing except be present, she knew she just had to ignore him. He was in a public place, so was she. There was nothing illegal about what he was doing. He has valid reasons to be where he went, so it couldn’t even be considered stalking, only coincidence and happenstance.

But as she backed out of her parking spot and headed to lunch, she saw him in her rearview mirror. And the look in his eyes said he wouldn’t be content to do nothing forever.

She was safe with Cassian, though.

She believed that, wholeheartedly, which only made her want to haul ass to the restaurant quicker. He was already there when she pulled up, waiting for her at a table outside.

She raised her brows as she walked up to meet him. “Did you order?”

He blinked, then looked down at his appearance. “Do you really want me greeting more strangers like this today?”

Nesta laughed, breathlessly, as she shook her head. “I’ll go inside.”

The little BBQ joint was only a few miles from their house. Nesta went inside and ordered a heap of food, because everything sounded delicious and she just couldn’t choose. After she ordered and went to head back outside, she froze by the door, because she noticed that red truck that had pulled into the far parking space.

Her hands began to shake, nausea began to roll in the pit of her stomach. She slowly looked at Cassian to see if he’d noticed.

He was scrolling through his phone, lost to the world around him. She was thankful she’d ordered their food to go, not because they had planned on leaving, but because there was so much of it. Now, all it would take was a quick mention of nausea and Cassian would go into overprotective daddy mode and take her straight home.

But then he’d also take her straight to bed, and she had too much to do today, on top of feeling well enough to actually take care of the things she needed done.

Cassian finally noticed her frozen on the sidewalk and he smiled at her, but it faltered when he noticed her expression. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just…” She glanced down at the cups in her hand. “Just realized I forgot to fill up our drinks.”

He stood, taking them and kissing her. “You’re looking tired, baby. I’ll get them, you sit that gorgeous self down and I’ll be right back.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him she’d go with him, but she nodded and smiled, sitting where she could see the red truck. She didn’t want her back to him. She needed to be able to see him.

Cassian was quick, and a moment later, he’d come back with not only their drinks, but three plastic bags full of food.

“Ready? We can eat in the cabin. Or outside, somewhere-.”

“Ready,” Nesta breathed, taking her lemonade from him and strutting to her car, where she shut herself inside. “See you at home,” she said to Cassian as he walked behind her, a worried expression on his face as she raced home.

He watched Nesta drive away before pulling himself, and their feast, into the truck. He had seen Tomas, of course, and was watching the red truck now as he pulled onto the road in his rearview mirror. He was hoping Nesta wouldn’t, though, didn’t want to cause her any more worry or stress. So, naturally, around Nesta, Cassian pretended that Tomas didn’t exist.

When he went in to get their drinks, he kept one eye on her the entire time, the other on Tomas out of the tall, glass windows.

They couldn’t spend their lives being scared.

Although Cassian wasn’t scared of Tomas, he was just pissed off. He talked to Azriel and Rhys about it on multiple occasions, but they told him that he should just lay low, there was no point in doing something stupid that would land him in jail while his pregnant fiancée, and Tomas, were still out there.

He had to do something, though.

He was tired of doing nothing.

He was tired of Nesta being afraid, of having the nightmares, of calling the cops only to be told that nothing could be done.

But he didn’t voice a word of it to Nesta.

She had enough going on.

He was back at the ranch within minutes, staying right behind Nesta the entire time. Once they’d pulled onto the main road, he hadn’t been able to see Tomas’s truck anymore.

And that was almost worse than knowing he was with them. Not knowing.

She parked her little car in front of the cabin and waited until Cassian was out of the truck and walking towards her to open her door.

He asked, “You saw him, didn’t you?” A silent nod. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you. I just wanted to have a nice lunch with my fiancé, but everywhere I turn, my demons are there.”

He set the bags down on the top of her car and wrapped here up in his arms. “He will never, never hurt you again, Nesta. I promise you that. He’ll never get close enough to try.”

She nodded and he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go inside and eat.”

She made a face of disgust and said, “I’m not hungry now.”

He sighed and said, “How about a relaxing bath, and then we’ll eat?”

“Yes, please,” she sighed. “I’ll go start the water if you put the food away.”

“Deal,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

He watched her walk to the back of the house, towards the bathroom and the huge tub in the corner. He waited until the water started running to make a phone call.

He pulled the business card out of his back pocket, deciding that no matter how nice they were, lawyers always looked like scumbags.

The law offices of Vanserra and Family answered and he asked to be patched through to one of the defense attorneys.

“Lucien Vanserra.”

Cassian said, “Luce, hey. It’s Cassian. I know this isn’t exactly your area of expertise, but you got a minute?”

In hushed tones, he explained the situation with Tomas, asking what their options were.

Lucien laid it out for him, basically telling him that they were doing all that they could.

“My only real suggestions,” he said and paused, and Cassian could hear tapping in the background. The drummer never could stop, even at his big kid job. “Start keeping track of when and where you see him. He’s got to be finding out where you are somehow. See if you can notice a pattern of some sorts.”

Cassian nodded, putting the food in the refrigerator. “I can do that. Anything else?”

He heard Lucien sigh. “I’d say a restraining order, but he hasn’t approached either of you since you asked him not to, right? Just shows up...waits?”

He nodded again and then remembered on the phone, he had to speak. “Yeah, never engages, he’s just always there.”

“Then like I said, keep track of when and where you see him.” Lucien added, “And maybe carry a gun.”

He snorted. “You act like I already don’t.”

Lucien laughed and the line was quiet for a minute. “Be careful, Cass. This guy has already made the first move once. What’s to stop him from doing so again?”

The comment sent ice into his veins, but he didn’t want Lucien to realize that, so he joked, “Dude, what are you, a defense lawyer, a criminal or a cop?”

A dark chuckle. “All three. It’s my job to outsmart the police,” Lucien crooned. “Why do you think I’m so good at it?”

“Today is one of those days that I’m glad you’re on our side.” Cass heard the water turn off in the bathroom. “I gotta go, man. Thanks for your help. Send me a bill for your time.”

Lucien laughed and said, “It’s pro bono, as long as you let me defend you when you kill him.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hung up and went into his bedroom. Their bedroom. Soon to be their only room, with a baby.

Cassian hadn’t thought about their living situation until just a few weeks ago when Nesta had been looking at the bedroom wall with an intensity that worried him. When he’d asked what she was looking at, she said she was trying to decide which wall to put the crib on.

Nesta should have been planning the nursery of her dreams, picking out paint colors and themes; should have been helping him put furniture together by explaining the confusing instructions.

Instead she was deciding which piece of furniture to shove out of the way to make room for their child to have somewhere to sleep.

Cassian stripped off his shirt in the bedroom, tossing it directly in the hamper. He walked into the bathroom and found Nesta sitting in the tub. When she saw him, she gave him a soft smile and scooted forward. Stripping off his jeans and socks, he stepped into space she’d given him and sat down, stretching his legs out on both sides of her body. He wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing slow circles on her belly with his thumbs.

Nesta leaned back, loving how safe she felt in Cassian’s arms, how at home it was.

Cassian was amazed at how much Nesta’s belly had been growing in the recent weeks. At first, he felt like it had taken her so long to show at all, now there was a little bump, his baby inside, growing rapidly.

Hopefully the baby was fairly average.

Cassian had been a giant baby, always tall and broad shouldered, even at birth. He weighed nearly thirteen pounds.

If Nesta was going to give birth to a thirteen pound baby, he was pretty sure she’d be kicking his ass and taking away his rights to give her more children.

“So,” he began, quietly, “when is this gender reveal party when I can find out the sex of my own child.”

Nesta snorted and looked up at him over her shoulder. “Tonight, for dinner.”

Cassian blinked. “The bakery is giving you something by tonight?”

“Feyre’s going to pick it up on her way,” Nesta said. “It will only be the six of us, so we can just do it here.”

Cassian nodded, slowly, suddenly feeling guilty, once again, about how much space they had privately available. But Nesta had worked so hard on the B&B, had made her father’s dream a reality.

“You’re in deep thought about something,” Nesta murmured, running her fingers over his knees.

“I want to build a house,” Cassian said. “Here, on the property.”

Nesta’s fingers froze. “We have a house. Three, in fact.”

“This little one bedroom place? And, my cabin? You’re counting those as houses?” Cassian said. “I mean, they’re great for when we were just alone, Nes, and I love my cabin, and intend to keep it there for when I piss you off and you kick me out for the night, which will happen at some point, I’m sure of it…” Nesta chuckled and flicked his knee as he continued, “Look, I just….We don’t have any room for the baby, Nes. And I intend to defy the odds and give you more kids at some point, and what then? We can’t stay in this place, or the cabin, or the main house, with all the guests…”

Nesta nodded, slowly, before leaning back, resting her head against his chest, once more. She looked up at him and he met her eyes. “I know. I’ve thought about that a lot lately, too.”

Cassian took her hands off his knees and intertwined their fingers together. “I just want you to be somewhere where you’re comfortable and not feel like we’re all living on top of one another. I mean, me alone...I’m a giant. Lying down, in the bedroom, I can nearly touch one wall with my hands, and the other with my feet.”

Nesta laughed, breathlessly. “I suppose you can.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he brought her fingers to his mouth and pressed his lips against her skin, softly. “We need more room. I do, you do, the baby does, all future Nazari babies do.”

“Gods, how many kids do you plan on putting inside of me?” Nesta muttered.

“As many as I can,” he muttered.

She paused for a moment, looking at their joined hands, then asked, “And what if this is the only one we have?”

Cassian tilted her chin up so that she met his gaze. “Then I’ll still be the happiest man alive.” She smiled softly and kissed him.

It was then that she felt it. Not quite a movement, but a small flutter. Small enough that she thought she might have imagined it, had it not repeated it right after.

She softly gasped. “Cass!” She grabbed his hand and placed it under hers where she’d just felt the flutter.

It happened once more, but Cassian said, “I can’t feel anything.”

Nesta began to cry. “I can. I can feel her.” It was overwhelming, going these months of constantly feeling sick and crying and craving weird foods, only having a belly to show for it.

But now, not only had she seen her baby today, she’d also felt it. “She’s in there and she’s healthy and happy.”

If Nesta was crying, it usually meant Cassian had done something wrong. But seeing her cry tears of joys…

In that moment, her smile had never been brighter, her eyes had never sparkled so brilliantly.

Cassian didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He simply watched her, dwelled in her excitement, watched as she expressed joy, relief, excitement. She sighed, and wiped at her eyes as Cassian continued to run his hands over her stomach.

He couldn’t wait to feel that baby kick, but he would, for now. He’d let her be in love with those little feelings that only a mother could feel.

He didn’t even bother to tell her that she called the baby she again.

He swore she looked on her way to the bakery, but he’d keep that confident suspicion to himself.

“Happy and healthy,” he repeated, and kissed the back of her neck. “And very well loved.”

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, quietly. “She is.”

They stayed like that for a while, snuggled together in the tub, silent and comforting, until the water began to cool. Then Cassian was out and helped out his fiancée, dried off, and warmed up their food.

After they ate, Nesta went to check on the guests that remained in the B&B while Cassian cleaned up around the little house, considering four more people would be inside in a couple of hours. Azriel, it seemed, got enough taken care of for today and told Cassian to relax.

Cassian hated relaxing.

So, he cleaned. By the time he was done, the little house was spotless.

Around four-thirty, Elain came bounding up the stairs, bursting through the door. “Nesta said you had the ultrasound pictures.” She held out her hand, opening and closing it. “Gimme.”

Cassian was sitting on the couch, watching a roping, and drinking a beer. He stared at her. “You know they don’t have the sex of the baby on there, right?”

She sat down on the couch next to him and said, “Come on, Cass, you have to know! I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He laughed. “Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so loyal?” She slumped back on the couch. “Where is Nes anyway?”

He got up to get a fresh beer, grabbing one for Elain, and said, “Up at the house, playing host to the guests.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Elain asked when he sat back down.

He sighed. “I’m just worried it’s too much. With Tamlin’s trial wrapping up and the baby coming. Not to mention all the Tomas bullshit.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What about Tomas?”

He took a swig of beer. “Nes hasn’t told you?” She shook her head. “He’s practically stalking her, but he only does it in public places, and he never speaks. It’s…freaky.”

Elain blinked, then took a long, deep breath. “Have you-.”

“Called Lucien this morning,” Cassian began, before she could even finish the sentence. “There’s nothing that can be done until he actually commits a crime. Unfortunately. But it really has her on edge, you know? She never wants to go anywhere, never wants to do anything because she knows she’ll run into him. I have to figure out how he knows where she’s going. After I know that, Luce can make something happen...he thinks.”

Elain sighed, her face in her hands. “I hate that guy.”

“That’s a pretty popular opinion around here,” Cassian muttered, strutting into the kitchen to pull out the meat he’d be grilling soon. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

When he looked at Elain, she was leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, nibbling on her bottom lip. It seems she didn’t know, either, and Cassian felt oddly guilty for killing her giddy vibe.

“Anyway,” Cassian went on, pulling out a beer and popping the can open. “Enough of that. Why are you here so early? Aside from hounding me about my unborn child.” Elain chuckled, although the worry lingered in her eyes. “I brought decorations, of course.”

“Of course,” Cassian laughed.

Elain eyed the beer in Cassian’s hand then looked back into the living room, where the one he’d just gotten, minutes before, sat. “Are you intending to get drunk before this thing? Because, if so, warn me now. I need to know when it’s time to cut you off. How many have you had?”

Cassian just rolled his eyes. “Calm down, mother, I can take care of myself.”

Elain just narrowed her eyes.

Cassian cleared his throat. “I’ll...pace myself.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, help me, tall person.”

First, Cassian brought out the ultrasound picture they had left on the counter, the one they were going to get framed, and let Elain ogle over it for nearly twenty minutes. Then, Cassian was helping tape up an absurd amount of streamers all over the little house, only stopping when Elain was satisfied.

Quiet voices streamed through the open windows about an hour later, and Cassian opened the door to find Nesta and Feyre walking up to the little house, arm and arm. It was good to see her in such a good place with her sisters. It wasn’t so long ago that Nesta had just come back and found Feyre’s hand smacking her in the side of the face.

But now it seemed like a whole different lifetime.

“Where’s the cake?” Elain asked, after they’d come in and Nesta was telling which spices to get down for the dry rub she’d been craving.

Feyre was setting the table. “Rhysand is getting it when he gets here. I left it in the back of the fridge at the house.”

Cassian looked around, noticing he was drastically outnumbered by the Archeron girls. “Speaking of Rhys, where is he? And where’s Az? He told me at, like, two-thirty that he could handle what was left and I should rest.”

The girls remained silent, all with a familiar glint in their eyes.

Cassian stilled. “Oh, shit, I don’t like that look.”

“They’ll be here,” Elain promised. “Az went home a little while ago to shower. He got done what he was supposed to, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Cassian began, slowly, unable to judge that damned Archeron look.

Nesta met him on the porch and kissed his cheek. “They’ll be here soon.”

And they were, about half an hour later with bottles full of cheap, shitty whiskey. Apparently it was a night of celebration, not only over their gender reveal, but over the fact that they had recently become engaged, had opened a successful B&B, and now were only mere months away from giving birth to their first child.

No wonder Elain was so worried about his afternoon beer consumption.

Apparently, he had a long night ahead of him.

He grilled steaks and chicken behind the little house and they ate and drank and bonded, which was something Cassian felt didn’t happen a lot lately. He saw them all, sure, from time to time - Azriel the most often - but, they rarely were able to all get together.

After dinner, Rhysand went and got the cake from the main house. It was a little cake, just enough for them all to have a slice.

“Okay, so, apparently, when we cut it open, the inside will be either blue or pink,” Nesta explained. “So.” She had the knife in her hand and was staring at the cake, but she didn’t move to cut it. She cleared her throat. “So.”

Elain was practically bouncing out of her shoes. “So, so, so! If you don’t do it right now, I’m going to!”

Azriel just put his hands on Elain’s shoulders, silently telling her to calm down, but his smile was bright and humored.

Nesta looked up at Cass, biting her bottom lip.

He asked, “You ready?”

“No. Yes.” She was absolutely glowing, happier than her sisters ever remembered her being. “Here.” She gave the knife to Cassian. “I’m liable to start crying the moment I see a color, so you should probably do the honors.”

He chuckled and turned the cake around, where only he and Nesta could see it and carefully sliced the knife through once. It came out clean, just the tiniest bit of white frosting clinging to the edge.

One more cut.

They saw it at the same time.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, my god.”

Elain was practically breathless when she demanded, “What is it?”

Cassian looked down at Nesta, who was already crying, and turned the plate around.

Revealing the pink cake inside.

Elain was instantly crying, and Feyre was looking at Rhysand with a look that said she had mad baby fever.

But Cassian just looked down at Nesta, at the tears in her eyes and the smile on her lips, and kissed her, softly. “You were right.”

She rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course, I was. Get used to that.”

He cursed, silently. Not only was he marrying Nesta Archeron, but he was about to have a tiny version of her running around, too. He had a feeling those stubborn genes of hers were stubborn themselves.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled, at last, which only made her grin widen. She kissed him, once more, before cutting the cake up for everyone to share.

A girl.

They were having a girl.

Cassian hoped and prayed that she would be just like her mother.

An hour later Nesta was staring her fiancé down, hands on her hips. He had taken up a very similar posture. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will be with my sisters,” Nesta said. “And I’m not far away. I’ll be fine.”

Her voice was reassuring, she tried her best to be reassuring, but the look in Cassian’s eyes told her that she’d woken up in a cold sweat one too many times.

“You’re just going to the cabin,” Nesta said, then gestured over to the little, old cabin, where Beau ran around in front of it. He hadn’t stopped since they told him the baby was going to be a girl. “Try not to let those two assholes get you too drunk.” She gestured to where Azriel and Rhysand waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Cassian snorted, and kissed her softly. “No promises.”

Then he was walking away, all of them carrying a ridiculous amount of alcohol as they crossed the grass, then the driveway, and entered the cabin.

Nesta went inside of her little house, where her sisters had poured themselves a glass of wine.

After plopping down in her armchair, Nesta scowled. “I want a glass of wine so bad.”

“A few more months,” Feyre winked.

Nesta settled her hands lovingly over her bump.

Her baby girl.

“And then some,” she said. “Breastfeeding.”

“Allow us to make a toast in your favor,” Elain said, lifting her glass filled with wine in the air. “To baby girl Nazari.”

She clinked her glass against Feyre’s and they both took a drink. Nesta couldn’t help but laugh at the display.

“When is Azriel going to propose?” Nesta asked, a minute later.

Elain nearly choked on her wine.

“It has been a while,” Feyre mumbled, eyeing the middle sister.

Elain sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just wanna grab him by the neck and tell him to get on with it.”

Nesta snorted. “You should. And make sure you tell me when you do. I wanna be there to see that.”

Feyre laughed, but her eyes were on Elain. “He’ll come around to it,” Elain stated, and she sounded confident in that statement. “But, there is something I want to ask you about.”

Nesta’s smile faded as she realized her sister was talking to her.

“Cassian mentioned that Tomas has been….stalking you,” Elain went on, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

Her reaction confirmed the statement. She was white as death, her eyes haunted, but she cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve run into each other a few times, but-.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Feyre said, cutting her off. “Cass himself told Elain and Rhys told me.”

“How long has this been going on?” Elain asked.

“Nothing’s going on.” Nesta said, looking at the television.

“Nesta,” Feyre said, her tone forcing Nesta to look. “You’re protecting your stomach. Look me dead in the eye and tell me nothing is going on.”

Nesta glanced down. Where she’d been rubbing soothing circles over her belly, she was now nearly hunched over it, an arm over it.

A long, slow breath escaped her before she said, “Since the brick went through the window.”

Elain and Feyre remained silent, but then Elain said, quietly, “Nesta, that was weeks ago. Months ago.”

“Yeah,” Nesta muttered.

“Nesta,” Feyre began, shaking her head. “You should’ve told-.”

“Why?” Nesta interrupted. “So you could’ve done what exactly? If the law, the officials can’t do anything, neither can you.”

Her sisters remained silent, and Nesta instantly felt guilty. She shouldn’t snap at them. They were only concerned, it wasn’t their fault.

“I just...give me one night when I’m not thinking about it,” Nesta said. “Please.”

“Okay,” Elain breathed. “Well, do you have any names picked out?”

“Yeah, we...” Nesta paused and hesitated, and then she felt that small flutter inside of her once more. That small movement that was hers and hers alone. She could see Cassian’s face earlier, after she’d first felt their daughter, the disappointment when he couldn’t say the same.

So she would give him this. She’d keep their names to herself, for now, so he could have that feeling, too.

She just knew her sisters weren’t going to like it.

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #snelbz x tacmc #nessian

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lilbabycee · 4 years

Note

First alone Weekend away w Steve after dropping miles off at uncle Buckys or aunty nat 🥺

too long // steve rogers

↳ pairing: steve rogers x reader

hold on, nonnie, you might be onto something (nsfw ahead):

tony overhears steve talking about how much he needs a vacation because work has really been stressing him out lately

he’s been on ten missions in the past month and a half and frankly, the two of you are exhausted because having to work and take care of a very energetic child alone has really taken its toll on you

so tony offers up his beach house in florida so that the two of you can spend a long weekend alone with no interruptions

saying goodbye to your son miles was hard - he’s never spent more than a few days away from his parents in a situation where they weren’t just a couple miles away from him

“mama, daddy,” miles sniffles into steve’s shirt, both of his little arms around your necks while you carry him, “do you have to go?”

“sweetheart, it’ll just be for a couple of days,” steve soothes him, smoothing a hand over his unruly hair, tied up with a rainbow ponytail holder that morgan gave him because he refuses to let you cut it and it’s getting so long because it grows so fast

(also, he likes the way it looks when it’s long: “mama, can you braid my hair like auntie shuri or auntie nat?”)

“but- but,” he stutters and you anticipate another wave of sobs so you shoot steve an uncertain look, your heart sinking because you want to go but you hate seeing your son like this

“baby,” you say softly, coaxing him to look up and you coo at the tears in his eyes and the ones that spill onto his chubby cheeks, “we’ll be back before you know it. and you know what?”

“what?” miles mumbles, the cutest pout on his face as his pretty blue eyes stare into yours

“you’ve gotta be a big, brave boy for mommy and daddy,” you nod encouragingly, giving him a gentle smile as steve rubs a hand up and down his back. “can you do that for us, miles?”

there’s a beat before he nods, still pouting, and you can’t help but press your lips to the crown of his head, fighting back tears of your own because you love him so much and hate to leave him

“and just think about how much fun you’re gonna have with uncle bucky and uncle sam, buddy,” steve adds, bouncing miles on his hip

miles visibly perks up and his gap-toothed smile eases your concerns a little as he claps his hands excitedly

“uncle ‘ucky said we can go to the beach and build sandcastles and then uncle sammy said we can go see auntie nat and then...”

steve shoots you a wink, listening attentively to his son with wide-eyed excitement and plenty of practiced “no way!”’s and “that’s crazy!”’s as he walks outside to the car to buckle him in

once you’ve dropped your son off (he didn’t even look back as he ran into sam’s arms after giving bucky a hug too), you head to the airport where tony’s private jet is waiting

when you’re in the air, you’re obviously freaking out a little and steve grabs onto your hand and kisses the back of it with a smile

“he’s gonna be just fine, doll. everything’s gonna be fine.”

and it is: tony’s beach house is beautiful and you love how carefree you feel, basking indulgently in the unlimited affection you get from your husband as well as the warm rays of the sun

your first day and night are full of shared kisses, the both of you taking the time to rediscover each other’s bodies again because you haven’t had the time to

“oh my god, baby, you taste so fuckin’ good,” steve moans as he buries his face back in your core, tongue teasing the folds as his thumb rubs at your clit mercilessly

you fist his hair and tug, knowing that he likes the sharp mix of the pain and the pleasure associated with it

when his teeth nip the inside of your thigh, you squeal loudly, grinning as he reprimands you with a smile on his face: “naughty little girl.”

but it’s the middle of the night on your second day and steve has you on top of him in your softly lit bedroom, slapping your ass in encouragement as you bounce up and down on his hard length

“that’s it, doll baby, take this cock,” he grumbles, hands flying to your hips to increase your pace as he matches your thrusts

your hands are braced on his chest and you’re so close to the edge, working yourself over and you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten when you hear the facetime ringtone sound from your phone

you pause momentarily until steve spanks you again: “didn’t tell you to stop, pretty girl.”

“but the phone-”

“ignore it,” he commands, driving up into you extra hard and you shudder, his hips slamming into your clit

and so you do, until it cuts off and rings again which makes steve throw his head back in frustration because he’s also so close

“stevie, what if it’s an emergency-”

“answer it,” he groans, hands coming up to run over his face in a way that reminds you so much of miles

“thank you,” you bend down to kiss his lips and then slide off of him carefully, grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it over your head haphazardly before grabbing your phone

the caller id says ‘buckaroo’ and you frown because why would bucky be calling you this late if something wasn’t wrong?

immediately, you pick up and your frown deepens at the flustered look on bucky’s face

“buck, what’s wrong?” you sit back on your bed inbetween steve’s open legs (he’s pulled his underwear back on begrudgingly but his scowl melts when he sees his best friend on the screen)

there’s a loud wailing in the back couples with the deep timbre of sam’s voice that makes your heart lurch because you know instantaneously that it’s miles

“bucky, what happened to him?” you sound frantic and steve rubs his hands up and down your arms although you can feel his heart pounding against your back

“he’s,” bucky huffs, running a hand through his hair as he walks closer to the noise, “he hasn’t stopped cryin’ for the past two hours. sam n’ i have been tryin’ to get him to calm down but he- he really wanted to see you guys. told us he wanted to go home and...”

“s’okay, buck,” steve tells him, “you tried your best. you can give him the phone.”

there’s some unclear talking and then some shifting of the camera before your baby’s face pops up on the screen, eyelashes glistening with tears and his cheeks wet and he’s gasping breathlessly from all the screaming

“baby boy,” you coo, blinking back the pricking of your eyes because you’re heartbroken at the sight of your tearful son

“mama!” he wails, hand grabbing fruitlessly at the screen. you angle the camera so that he can see his daddy too, steve’s chin resting on your shoulder

“daddy!” he smiles sadly, smacking bucky’s phone and then frowning when he realizes that he can’t access the two of you

“what’s goin’ on, bubba?” steve says, getting a little choked up too because your son doesn’t usually cry like this. “why’re you cryin’, baby?”

“i-i,” he sniffs loudly, looking up at bucky briefly before staring at you guys again, “i miss you daddy, mama too. w-wh-when are you coming back?”

“oh, honey,” your hand flies to your chest, “we miss you too. but i thought you were gonna be a big, brave boy for mommy and daddy?”

“i tried, mama!” he exclaims, wiping at his face in frustration. “but i can’t!”

“yes you can, sweetie,” steve soothes him. “s’not like you to give up so easy. you were doing so good and we’ve only got a couple of days left. we’ll be back the day after tomorrow, how’s that sound?”

“too long,” your son’s bottom lip quivers and you know he’s about to cry again so you’re quick to jump in

“how about this, baby,” you suggest, “we’ll come back first thing tomorrow and be right there with you when you wake up-”

“yes, mama!”

“-if,” you warn him and the bright smile on his face dims, “if you be a big boy for us just for tonight and let uncle sam and bucky read you a bedtime story so you can head to bed, hmm?”

miles stops to think about it, glancing at his uncles who flank his sides, and then back at you, nodding reluctantly

“thank you, buddy,” steve smiles at him and miles returns it with a smile of his own albeit watery. “now, what do you say to uncle bucky and uncle sam?”

the camera drops abruptly and you’re both staring at the ceiling while you hear a very polite: “i’m sorry, uncle sammy! m’sorry, uncle ‘ucky!”

“you’re such a smart boy, baby,” you praise him when he picks the phone back up. “we’ll be back in the morning, m’kay?”

“‘kay, mama.”

“we love you, okay, sweetheart?” steve grins at him

“love you too daddy. love you mama.”

“love you so much, honey - we’ll see you tomorrow,” you both blow kisses at him until he giggles and he waves eagerly, trying to blow his own kisses back at you until he hangs up

and so you change your flight back to early in the morning, heading back to new york early so that you can see your son

once you knock on bucky’s door, the door opens and you two walk quietly into the apartment, giving both bucky and sam hugs before sneaking into the room where miles sleeps

you grin at the sight of a head of hair splayed out on the pillow, soft snores coming from where his small body rises and falls underneath the covers off this too-big guest room bed

the two of you sit on his side of the bed and steve runs his hand through his hair to wake him up, gently placing a hand on his shoulder

“miles, sweetie,” you say and your son stirs, rubbing at his eyes sleepily with tiny fists

“mama?” his voice is groggy and his eyes glazed over but a drowsy smile stretches across his face still. “daddy?”

“hey, honey,” steve smiles as miles throws himself into his body. steve cups his head softly and rocks him back and forth

“missed you,” miles turns to you and presses a lazy kiss to your cheek

“we missed you too, bubba,” steve smiles

“sorry for-” he yawns, obviously still tired, “sorry for makin’ you come back.”

“hey, don’t apologize,” you reassure him. “we were missing you too - so much.”

“good,” miles’ eyes close and he pulls both of you back down onto the bed with him. “can you stay?”

“course we can.”

steve is the first to kick his shoes off and crawl underneath the covers with miles, pulling him onto his chest and your son automatically curls into him, face buried in his father’s neck

you soon follow suit, taking your shoes off and cuddling next to him, your son squished happily in between you guys

he’s quickly back asleep, your finger grasped in his fist while he sucks on his thumb

you don’t even bother to pull it out of his mouth, letting him have this one because you know it’s been a hard night for him

“babe,” steve whispers and you blink your eyes open, on the verge of sleep yourself

“yeah?”

“d’you think we could sneak out of here for a quickie in the bathroom? you know, finish what we didn’t get to last night-”

“steve, you are so annoying. shut up and go to sleep, dummy.”

excuse me i love it

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #requests

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ppangjae · 4 years

Text

made to fall in love | seven

SERIES MASTERLIST

prev | seven | next

SUMMARY. Seoul’s finest 30 under 30. The country’s youngest billionaire. 2019′s richest bachelor. But of all the women he could go after, he goes after… her?

GENRE. fluff and angst | ceo!jaehyun | nerd!reader | enemies to lovers!au | long lost friend!au

WORD COUNT. 2.1k+ words

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, and tons of bickering!

author’s note. just wanted to remind you guys that this series will be updated every Thursday! let’s get this bread :-)

SEVEN. boy • tell me how you feel

Not long ago…

“We have a couple of applicants who passed the first round of assessment.”

The HR department head, Donghyuck, lays out four folders of different colours right in front of Jaehyun. He scans the folders one by one before starting with the first folder on his left. As he opens the folder, he purses his lips into a tight line.

“His resume is too plain,” he criticizes. “It’s lacking experience and variety.”

Donghyuck barely utters a word as Jaehyun is handing him back the first folder. He moves onto the next one, and Donghyuck stands there, awkwardly. “Sir, the majority of the HR department has been wondering why you’re looking for a new structural engineer—”

“This applicant’s resume is great, but a little too perfect. Besides, Jung Architects is a company built with perfectionists but another perfectionist makes it too many.” He cuts the HR head off and hands him the second folder. As he reaches out for the third applicant’s folder, he decides to answer him. “I think we need a new structural engineer. Wooyoung has been slacking lately and you know I hate slackers. He’s getting pretty old too, don’t you think? He should start planning his retirement.”

Donghyuck frowns. But Wooyoung never slacks? All he can remember is seeing Wooyoung barging out of his office with anger blowing up his face into a deep red. The next day, he sees him walking out of the building with a box packed with his things. “Oh, is that so, sir?”

Jaehyun hums in reply. “I think we need someone new, someone refreshing. Don’t you think?”

“I—Well, the final decision is up to you, sir. My input doesn’t really matter—”

He grins. “Exactly. Now, this applicant can move on for the interview. I don’t need to look at the fourth applicant, I think I’ve found the perfect one.”

“E-Excuse me?” Donghyuck asks, completely taken off guard. He eyes the last folder on Jaehyun’s right that’s been left untouched. He’s surprised that Jaehyun barely even touched it, not even sparing it a single glance.

“I said what I said,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I have many other things to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be getting back to work.”

Donghyuck stares at him as he gets up from his seat and hands him the folder before leaving the meeting room. He looks over his shoulder to get one last glance at Jaehyun. He tilts his head in confusion.

“What’s so special about this applicant?” Donghyuck asks himself as he opens the folder that Jaehyun chose. His eyes scan the resume. “Y/N, not much experience, worked at only one company since graduating university, won many awards during her undergrad, studied at the most prestigious university in the country, specifically for mathematics, physics, and architecture.”

He closes the folder and feels his eyebrows knit together in thought.

“But why does her name sound so familiar?”

There’s a knock at the door. Startled, his head snaps at the door.

“By the way, do you mind sending me an extra copy of that applicant’s folder?” Jaehyun nods his head at the folder in Donghyuck’s hands.

He nods his head vigorously. “Y-Yes, sir. I’ll forward and send it to your email.”

Jaehyun smiles.

“Perfect.”

“Are these our new interns and engineers?”

All of the newly hired interns and engineers turn around to face him. His eyes scan each and every one of the new hirees before his eyes land on you. His hard, strict gaze softens at the sight of you fiddling with your fingers.

“Yes, Mr. Jung.”

He smiles and just in time, he looks away when you glance at him. He approaches the small group of hirees, matching their names on their ID cards to their faces. Once he stops in front of you, he looks down at your name tag. Y/N. A smile threatens to spread across his lips. He can feel his heart do cartwheels.

Jaehyun’s always been fascinated by you. Your resume stood out from all the applicants. Your sense of style is completely different from all of your coworkers. You’re out of touch with the current fashion trends but it’s probably because you don’t focus on your outer appearance. You mainly shine from within and through your dedication to your work. Jaehyun hired you for many reasons aside from your resume.

You remind him of someone special.

You remind him of someone he used to know.

You are someone he used to know.

He raises an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

You nod your head vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

“Welcome to the company. I remember seeing your resume. You stood out the most from all of our applicants. I can’t wait to work with you.” He compliments you and you look at him in shock.

“Thank you, sir. I will work hard.” You smile at him.

Just before he moves onto the next hiree, he stops and looks at you one last time. He has so many things he wants to tell you. He wants to hug you. He wants to tell you all of the countries he’s travelled to. He wants to tell you all of the good things that have happened since he started building up his own future.

“This is completely out of context but you share the same name as my childhood friend.” He adds, watching your eyes widen like saucers.

Not now. He can’t let you find out now.

“S-Sorry?” You stutter.

He smiles. “I have a childhood friend that shares the same name as you. Her name is Y/N.”

Present day…

It’s an emergency meeting, is what you remember Johnny telling you the moment you’re left in a room all by yourself. You feel like you’ve been kidnapped. You nervously fiddle with your fingers.

“What kind of emergency meeting is this?” You mutter to yourself.

Seconds and minutes begin to pass and you’re starting to wonder if Johnny forgot about you. You’re starting to grow anxious and jittery. You’re tapping your foot against the floor, getting up from your seat to open the blinds to allow sunlight to come through. While you’re opening the blinds, you hear the door open and your name being called out.

You freeze up.

“Y/N?”

You turn around to see Jaehyun standing at the door. He looks at you as if he’s in a sudden daze. There’s no stress or anger lingering on his face.

“Sir.” A small smile begins to form on your lips.

His eyebrows raise, as if he’s taken aback. “Y/N.”

The second time he says your name, you can read his mind. But somehow, you still feel unsure. He says it in a way that it feels and sounds familiar to him.

You clear your throat. “Is there a reason why you wanted to see me, sir?”

He snaps out of it. “Yes. Have you seen the news this morning?”

“Y-Yes?” It comes out as a question.

“Great. I called you in for a meeting with me because I just want to make sure you are safe. Jia Park of Park and Co. Architects is wound up in an imposter scandal involving the usage of your name.” He explains. “The press are going to speculate whether Jia has been trying to steal your identity but until we find out Jia’s true motive, we have to stay alert, especially you.”

“But, sir—”

“I’m not sure why she planned on stealing your identity, but it is what it is.” He cuts you off, avoiding your gaze. “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

You wish you could laugh. Does he not know who you are? Is he playing pretend? You’re standing right in front of him, after your true self has been laid out in front of him. What kind of tricks is he pulling? Is this all a game to him? What is going on in that mind of his? What are you supposed to feel?

“So… you know who I am?” You ask and it seems like a stupid question but it has different answers.

You’re Y/N. You’re Jeong Jaehyun’s childhood friend. You’re the little girl he grew up with. You formed a strong bond with him. You, along with Johnny, were his only friends.

But you’re also Y/N, who is nothing but an employee who works under Jeong Jaehyun. He can simply pretend like he doesn’t know who you are, but for what?

It just didn’t make sense. He has to know who you are now. Jia has been exposed of pretending to be you, therefore, you’re the childhood friend Jaehyun has been looking for. Why would he pretend?

He purses his lips into a line. It takes him a while to answer you.

“Of course,” he nods his head. He hesitates before saying, “You’re Y/N, the structural engineer of Jung Architects.”

You stop yourself from letting out a scoff.

To him, you’re Y/N, the structural engineer of Jung Architects.

It’s crystal clear to you, he surely has something planned.

You feel like you’ve been let down. You feel disappointed. But at the same time, you feel angry, you can feel your blood boil. It’s painfully obvious who you are and how you’re related to him, but why is he still oblivious? He can’t be oblivious. He’s pretending—

“You’re pretending.” You blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow. “Me? Pretending?”

“Drop the act. You’re pretending that you don’t know who I am, Jaehyun—”

“Sir?”

He looks over his shoulder to see his receptionist peeking her head through the door. “Yes?”

“Your father’s on the phone. He wants to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

He glances at you. You look heartbroken. He clears his throat. “Excuse me.”

He can’t tell you. He can’t let you know. There are so many things holding him back. There are so many things that can be put to risk, with you being one of them.

“You’ve changed.”

He hears you say softly with his back facing you. He stops himself from looking at you over his shoulder. He hears you let out a scoff.

“I’m disappointed in you, Jaehyun.”

Not long ago...

“What are they doing?”

“It seems more like a business meeting rather than a father-daughter dinner.”

Jungwoo hears Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle through his earpiece. He stabs a slice of his medium rare steak with his fork before shoving it into his mouth. Seated a couple of tables away, he watches Jia Park and her father engage in what seems like a secretive conversation.

“It was a stupid decision of them to be having this business meeting at a public restaurant,” Jungwoo snorts. “I can hear them.”

“What are they talking about?”

“Who else would they be talking about?” Jungwoo quirks an eyebrow. “You, of course. They’re after you and your business. You’re filthy rich and they want all of it.”

“What’s their plan?” Jaehyun questions.

“Stop rushing me, I’m trying to pick up the details of their conversation. I’ll call you back when they leave.”

“Don’t forget—”

“I never forget, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo cuts him off, feeling slightly offended. He pouts. “Well, maybe there was that one time—”

“Just call me when they leave.”

“Jaehyun—” Jungwoo hisses until he hears him hang up on him.

Jungwoo sighs, continuing to finish his dinner that’s been prepaid by Jaehyun himself. He adjusts the tightness of his tie, making sneaky glances at the two every now and then. Looking down at his phone, he makes a double-check to see if their conversation is still recording.

Just as he finishes his plate, he calls the waiter to order himself a nice glass of wine. As the waiter takes his order and leaves him to wait, he hears a familiar name rolling off the tip of Jia’s tongue.

Y/N?

“Do you have a backup plan in case they find out that you’re not her?”

“Who? Y/N?”

The middle-aged man chuckles. “Who else do you think I’m talking about?”

Jia places her fork and knife on the sides of her plate. She clasps her hands together and leans back against her chair. “Of course. Uncle Wooyoung has great connections.”

“Smart. I guess I raised you well.”

Jungwoo squints his eyes in suspicion. As their conversation gets deeper and deeper, Jungwoo leaves his glass of wine untouched. The two of them pay their bill and leave a huge tip for the waitress. Jungwoo makes sure not to blow his cover when he makes eye contact with Jia’s father.

The waitress comes to pick up their payment and she lets out a huge gasp when she sees how much they’ve tipped her. Right when they leave the restaurant, Jungwoo falls back against his chair in disbelief.

Goosebumps. He feels goosebumps all over his arms.

He immediately makes the phone call.

“What happened, Jungwoo?”

“We need to talk, Jaehyun, I—”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun laughs.

“Things aren’t looking too good.”

author’s note. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this short update. as i said in the author’s note at the beginning of this chapter, i will be updating this series every Thursday!

tag list: (if you want to be included in the tag list, please send me a message through my askbox!)

@riverdale-kpop @cupofjae @jae-canikeepyou @crystxlkpop @befikel @justineasian @frankenstein852 @mymonbebecarat127heart @hoshitaro @ilymarkchan @hyluvjk @fantasircle @yourchasingsunsetslove @jae-bam @starryhyun @kriselynne @jaeismytamtation @etaerealboy @irrelevxntstxr @johnnyseosabs @jaeveil @doublepeace

#jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x oc #jaehyun imagines #jeong jaehyun #jeong jaehyun scenarios #jeong jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun x oc #jeong jaehyun imagines #jaehyun blurbs #jeong jaehyun blurbs #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Tech Guy

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 3,826

Summary: After renting a laptop from your campus library, you run into a download problem. A call to Library Tech Services for help introduces you to Tech Guy. Good at his job, but with questionable people skills, you learn to work with him. It certainly helps that he has an attractive voice.

This was not good, not good at all. It was less than an hour to midnight, the sun long since having set, and time seemed to pas faster, not slower, the later it got.

Now, you considered yourself to be pretty good with technology, perhaps not a computer genius but good enough to be able to troubleshoot most of your problems. It was pure bad luck that the night your capabilities failed was the night before you had an assignment due in Graphic Design.

Your own laptop had been ruined after an accident in the library had left the screen nothing more than a web of shattered fragments, but thankfully the library also carried laptops for checkout which saved you from having to fork out money that you didn’t have to buy a new one. You thought that checking out a laptop would be a quick fix to your problem, but you underestimated how high their demand was.

The librarian you spoke with at the circulation desk put you on a waiting list much to your disappointment and you left the building empty handed, unsure when one would become available.

The answer was six days later, the night before you had something due.

When they left a voicemail on your cell phone around seven o’clock to tell you that it was ready for pick-up, you immediately hopped on a bus bound for the library. The anxiety should have been somewhat alleviated because you could actually start to work on it now but when you got back to your dorm room and opened it up, another problem presented itself: the program you needed wasn’t installed.

Bad luck 1 – You 0.

Every time you tried to install it a message would pop up prompting you to enter an admin username and password in order to start the process. You had never seen that message before and innocently tried your own username and password. When that didn’t work, you tried three more times just to be sure.

Next stop was the internet, everyone’s favorite place to ask questions. You ran a quick search describing the problem and read through a couple of chat room threads. Disappointingly, nothing really applied to the situation at hand.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have spent so much time trying to fix it because all that came of it was a lot of wasted time and you still hadn’t installed the program. You really didn’t want to take another trip to the library tonight if you could help it.

Frustrated and stuck you opened up the library’s webpage to see if there were any answers to be found. They didn’t but you did find the phone number for Library Tech Services, which was miraculously open even this late in the night.

Punching in the numbers you dialed and waited for someone to answer and when they did, it was short and to the point. “Library Tech.”

“Umm, hi… my name is y/n and I’m having an issue installing a program on my laptop rental.”

“Hmm. What’s the problem?” Again, not much to go on but the you could admit that tech guy’s voice sounded attractive.

“Well. I clicked on the install button, but as soon as I did a message telling me that I needed admin permission to continue flashed on my screen.”

“Did you try your university username and password?”

“Yes.”

“Did you double check that you typed everything correctly?”

“Yes.”

“Did you try Google?”

“Of course, I did,” you answered with exasperation. He snickered and you felt your hackles rise. You called the number to get helped, not to get laughed at. Attractive voice be damned.

“I promise I exhausted every trick I know, I’m not stupid. But I do have something to finish tonight so if you can help me out here, that’d be great.”

For a split second you felt bad for being short with him but the aggravation was quick to return. He was the one providing terrible customer service… why should you feel bad calling him out on it?

He must’ve gotten the hint because he cleared his throat and started being serious. “The library puts restrictions on its laptops because they don’t want people downloading stuff willy nilly. What do you need to install?”

“Just Adobe Illustrator.”

You heard him typing on a keyboard in the background. “Sounds okay to me. I’ll just give you the admin credentials so you don’t have to make a trip over here tonight.”

You started to say thanks until you processed the end of that sentence. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Normally we require people to come in person to fill out a form. Once the request is approved, a person is supposed to enter in the admin stuff, but I’m going to give it out over the phone to save you some time.”

His words left you speechless. You had no idea there was a whole process to do something so simple as install a program; you should’ve asked more questions before you walked out with it. It was a good thing to remember for next time. And the earlier guilt returned, too. He was being so nice now, bending the rules so you didn’t have to make another trek on the bus, which was quite frankly a gamble after dark.

You thanked him profusely, the tension draining from your shoulders. Once you told him the laptops id number and he was able to confirm that it was rented out to your account, he shared the username and password with you.

With baited breath, you typed in exactly what he told you to and couldn’t help the happy noise that escaped you when it worked. It was impossible that tech guy saw your chair dance through the phone but he laughed again, making you question if he somehow knew anyway.

“Thanks, you’re a life saver!”

He cleared his throat and said “Glad to be of service.” Then he hung up without another word.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and looked at it blankly. What the heck was that about? Thinking back on the conversation left you feeling very confused but you threw yourself into getting your images drawn up on Illustrator and soon lost yourself in the work.

You ended up staying up late well past your normal bedtime but the deadline was enough motivation for you to push through the drowsiness and yawns. Around 3:30 you finally finished and emailed it to the professor so you wouldn’t have to worry about it in the morning.

Sleep came easy that night and you vaguely remembered dreaming about tech guy’s voice which was utterly ridiculous. He hadn’t even mentioned his name, for goodness sakes! Plus, he was so hard to read, bouncing between jerk and nice on a whim. Nope. You were not going to stoop to finding out who he was. Not a chance.

After yesterday’s incident, your first course of the new day was to go grab a cup of coffee. You weren’t an easy riser on a good day, even less so after being up until the wee hours of the morning and caffeine was going to be essential for powering you through your classes.

Your go-to place was a campus coffee shop two blocks down from your dorm. It was still winter but you found that as long as you bundled up, the walk over went quickly and the cold air worked wonders for organizing your thoughts. But the real reason it was your favorite was not its closeness, it wasn’t even for the coffee; it was because of the heavenly pastries they made daily. The croissants, the eclairs, the danishes… they were all excellent. None was above their banana chocolate chip muffins.

A little bell chimed as you opened the door and the blast of heat from inside the shop felt nice against your chilled cheeks. The familiar worker at the register looked up and smiled when they saw you. “Hey, y/n! Should I start working on your cappuccino order?”

“Yes, please!” You approached the counter, removing your gloves to make it easier to take out your card from your wallet. A gleaming dessert case also caught your eye and you tried to glance over discreetly. As subtle as you tried to be, the cashier knew you too well after serving you for the past couple of years.

“Oh, sorry. We’re out those again.”

“Again?” you questioned sorrowfully.

He gave you a sympathetic shrug. “They’re very popular, they always go fast.”

It used to be that you could get your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin whenever you wanted one but the secret must’ve gotten out to the rest of campus because you’d struck out for the past weeks. With a dramatic sigh, you settled for a chocolate croissant. It was no muffin but it was something to tide over your stomach until lunch.

“You know,” you started conspiratorially, “How can someone be so talented yet stupid simultaneously? If that no-good-baker bothered to make more of them knowing how fast they sell, this wouldn��t happen.”

You had never actually met the baker that was the source of the yummy pastries. In fact, you’d never even seen him and only knew that he was good at what he did and that he never came out to the front of the shop. There was really no reason why you ragged on him that morning other than you had major plans for that muffin that now had to be put on hold.

The cashier chuckled as he rang you up and looked back at the door to the kitchen for a moment. “I’ll pass along the message.” He slipped the croissant in a brown paper bag and handed it, along with the travel coffee cup, over to you. “Have a good day. See you next time.”

You accepted it with a “You, too,” and were out the door to catch the next bus to your class.

***

Later that week, you ran into a familiar problem with the laptop. This time you needed to add Photoshop but figured that it shouldn’t be an issue now that you knew the password. So when you typed in the exact same thing as last time and the computer told you it was incorrect, you dragged a hand down your face and groaned. Well, you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Swiveling around in your chair you grabbed your phone and called the Tech Services line again. The only thing that would make this even better would be if tech guy answered again, that’s how your luck was going that week. And sure enough, “Library Tech Services.”

You refrained from groaning again. Out loud anyway. “Hi, it’s y/n again. I was the one who called about the admin credentials Monday night?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m trying to install Photoshop right now and it’s telling me the username/password is incorrect, which is impossible because it’s what I used the last time.”

“Right. We had to change the password for our monthly maintenance, it’s a security thing.”

“You’re kidding,” you said surprise coloring your voice. “Any chance you can share the new one with me?”

“Technically, I wasn’t supposed to give that to you last time.”

It was time to turn on the charm and convince him like you managed to previously. As you pleaded with him to do you this favor he interrupted you.

“How bad do you need it?”

What was wrong with you that hearing him say that put your mind in the gutter? He definitely hadn’t meant it that way when he said it! He was much chattier this time around so you were able to appreciate his voice better and his voice just did it for you.

You cleared your throat. “It’s not an emergency this time, no impending next-day deadlines, but I do want to get working on this new assignment…”

“Okay, okay. You’re lucky I like you.” That was news to you because you didn’t get that vibe based on the last call. It was nice to hear though. Some clicks sounded from the other end of the line and you waited silently for a few moments before he was ready to say the new password.

“Whew, we’re good to go,” you updated him as the Photoshop installation started. Another moment of silence passed.

Finally, he said a quick, “Good.”

You weren’t caught off guard when you heard the click that signaled he had hung up. Unlike the last call, he hadn’t seemed rude and he did mention that he liked you. Maybe he was just an awkward sort of guy, despite his killer voice. That might explain why he worked an IT job, weren’t those kinds of guys supposed to have terrible people skills?

You worked with Photoshop for a bit and when you reached a good stopping point, you got ready for bed. That night you laid awake for a while, unable to drift off to sleep. Instead, you replayed the conversation with tech guy over and over in your mind.

He was very helpful when he wasn’t giving an attitude and he this was the second time he had bent the rules for you. That pesky word ‘like’ kept rattling in your brain and you started to wonder if that nice voice belonged to a nice face. Furthermore, was there a chance that he found your voice attractive as well?

***

Sunday morning on a college campus seemed like a smart time to visit the coffee given that most of campus wasn’t up yet, which increased the chances of you getting your hands on a banana chocolate chip muffin. Maybe even two or three if you were honest, to make up for the past several failed attempts.

The sun hadn’t been up long when you opened the door, the little jingling bell announcing your presence. A barrage of delicious aromas caressed your nose and to your extreme delight, one of the scents you detected was a banana-chocolate combination.

You walked up to the counter and the cashier smiled as he told you good morning.

“So… can I get three banana chocolate chip muffins?”

He merely smiled and started working on your cappuccino. “Of course. Reid just finished them so they still in the kitchen, piping hot.”

Reid must be the baker that was responsible for the muffins as well as responsible for never making enough. “Finally! This is a long time coming for me.”

“I passed him your message, I think he took it to heart.” He handed over the drink and turned to go to the kitchen. “I’ll be back with the muffins.”

He pushed the door open and for a split second you caught a glimpse of a side profile belonging to a blonde guy. He was too far away to distinctly make out any facial features but he had nice shoulders framed by his black tee and obvious blonde hair that was hard to miss. He looked cute to you, at least from a distance.

Those two details were the only things you took note of before the door closed, effectively blocking you from more staring. Too bad. It was totally ridiculous to think about but tech guy’s voice would be a good combination with baker guy’s looks.

You picked at the lid of the coffee cup while you waited for the rest of your order already anticipating how they would taste. Your plan was to only eat one this morning and to ration the rest, but you were honest enough with yourself to know that you might enter a feeding frenzy and have all three finished by lunch.

When the door opened up again your eyes searched for the seemingly cute baker but there was no sign of him. There wasn’t a chance to get down about it, however, because a smile lit up your face as soon as you saw the medium sized brown paper bag that held the muffins.

“Reid says these are especially for you,” the cashier said as he lifted the bag over the register.

You were quick to raise your hands to take it from him and made sure to thank him as you left, not questioning why Reid, a person you’d never met, would make a comment like that, figuring that he was referring to how you complained that the muffins were always sold out.

The morning air was especially cold as you trekked back to your dorm, your breath condensing into a fleeting, frozen cloud around your face and the only thing keeping your hands warm was the cappuccino you held between gloved hands. Still, the trip to the coffee shop was definitely worth it and you were hoping that it was a good omen to start the day off with.

***

Perhaps you were still experiencing the high of the morning victory at the coffee shop, but later on that night while you were working on homework once again, you started thinking about tech guy again. There wasn’t any need to call him; you now had both Illustrator and Photoshop on the laptop and there wasn’t anything else that you needed to install.

Still, you debated calling him. Not because you needed to but because you wanted to. Which was weird, even to you, but you had missed him the past couple of days, bad people skills and all. After the second call, you felt even more confident that he wasn’t as condescending a guy as you had first thought him to be. And you wouldn’t mind getting to know that awkward version of him better.

The hard part was you literally knew nothing about him other than he worked the night shift at the library. You didn’t have a name, a face, not even a work schedule to confirm whether he was working tonight or not. Reid must’ve been serious when he told the cashier those muffins were made especially for you because there had to have been a secret dose of recklessness mixed in there. How else would you explain this strange, and potentially creepy, call you were about to make?

The dial tone rang and you took a deep breath, not sure how this would turn out. On the fifth ring, someone finally picked up. “Library Tech Services.”

You laughed in relief. Tech guy was the on the other end of the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, y/n. Having another crisis?” On one hand you felt a little embarrassed that you no longer had to say your name for him to recognize your voice but on the other, the possibility that he enjoyed talking with you, too.

“It may come as a surprise but I can get through a day without having a tech issue that needs solving.”

“Oh, really?”

“I swear.” You crossed your heart even though he couldn’t see you.

“Well, what do you want then?”

Time to be brave. “Actually, I called for you.”

“I would hope so, I’m the only who works this shift meaning I’m your only option.”

“No, um, I meant I wanted to tell you thanks for helping me out with installing that stuff on the laptop. You were a lifesaver.”

“I try.”

“Seriously! I definitely would’ve missed one graphic design deadline, potentially two if you hadn’t come to the rescue.”

That seemed to get his attention. “Is that your major? Graphic Design?”

“Yep. Don’t I give off bumbling artist vibes?”

“Hmm you seem pretty confident to me but there’s nothing wrong with that. My grandma was—” He started that sentence but abruptly cut off and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you saying I remind you of your grandma?”

“Shit,” he grumbled. “My friends told me to stop bringing her up when talking to hot people.”

“Don’t sweat it, she sounds like she was awesome so I’m honored. But back to the part where I’m hot… do you really think so?”

“Obviously. Do you think I hand out library secrets to every person who calls? Your voice is strong and you sound super smart so I tried my best to be cool with you.”

“Okay but future tip: hanging up on people and not telling them your name is rude, not cool.”

His embarrassment was tangible through the phone and you let him sweat momentarily before speaking. “Luckily for you, I like dorks such as yourself and am willing to look past it as long as I get your name.”

“It’s Reid. Reid Garwin,” he rushed to say.

Now that was interesting. You fell back on your bed, your brain trying to make connections. The name while not super common, wasn’t rare either and what were the chances that you met two of them on the same day. If Reid with the nice body and tech guy, er, Reid with the nice voice were one in the same, you wouldn’t be upset. Quite the contrary.

“Reid as in Reid who bakes my favorite sugar fixes on campus?”

“One in the same. You seen me there before?”

“Only once,” you reveal. “When I went to pick up some muffins this today.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Wait. Are you saying that you’re that customer who called me stupid the other day?”

“…Maybe.”

“They don’t let me out front cause I’m ‘too much’ for people but rest assured that the door isn’t that thick. I feel like an idiot for not recognizing that it was you though.”

The revelation that Reid was baking a tech hero, a winning mix by the way, thrilled you all the way from your head to your toes. At the moment you didn’t even care that he heard you calling him names at the coffee shop although you were sure the mortification would set in later.

“Would you like to go out sometime—”

“You do want to go out with me sometime—”

The two of you spoke at the same time and when you realized that the other had read your mind, you both giggled.

“After you,” you assured him.

“Shit, would you like to go out sometime? There’s a restaurant downtown that’s really good and I promise not to bring up grandma Garwin again.”

The plan was to pretend to think about it but your excitement overrode your brain and you said, “Deal as long as you promise to tell me more about her, not less.”

He started to answer you but stopped suddenly and you could vaguely hear him getting scolded by someone, reminding you that technically he was still on the clock.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, “The librarian on duty told me to stop flirting and get back to work. Stop by the coffee shop tomorrow though and we can talk more.”

You said your good-byes and rolled around your bed, the comforter thoroughly rumpled by the time you stopped. It seemed that your luck may be turning around for the better.

_______________

Thanks for reading my most self-indulgent piece to date. Also my longest! Reid may consider himself to be mister cool, but he is also an awkward bean who would make a great tech guy. It's also my first time experimenting with moodboards, let me know what you think :)

#the covenant #reid garwin #reid garwin x reader #imagines

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