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love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited

w/c: 6.7k

a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:

“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”

He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.

You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.

It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”

The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.

After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.

“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”

You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.

“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”

“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”

He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”

You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”

“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”

You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.

When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.

“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”

He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.

“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.

“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.

“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.

“Everything alright?”

Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."

"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."

"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”

You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.

“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.

It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.

The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.

“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.

“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.

“But what if—”

“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.

“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.

“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”

Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.

“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.

“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.

As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.

And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.

Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.

Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.

“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.

“Yes! I assume you are too?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”

“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”

The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”

You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.

“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”

You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”

“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."

Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .

You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.

Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.

Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.

Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!

You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.

“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.

From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.

He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.

“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”

“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”

The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.

Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.

You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?

So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.

The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.

Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.

It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.

“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.

“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”

He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”

“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”

“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.

“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.

“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.

“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.

“But I wanna play Mommy!”

“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”

He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.

“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.

“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.

Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.

The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.

His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.

It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.

As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.

You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”

He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.

Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.

“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”

“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.

It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.

“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.

He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”

You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”

Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.

“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.

“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.

“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”

You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”

“You aren’t bothering me.”

“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”

“You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.

“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"

You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.

Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.

And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.

He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.

Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.

“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.

a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

pt.2

[[and then I met you || ch. 27]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

Police Arrest Three After Mass Protests in LA County

By C. Grant

Three people were arrested in Pasadena, California yesterday after a crowd gathered to protest the death of Sheila Pom. Police say the three individuals, whose names have not yet been released, appeared to be Enhanceds attempting to agitate the crowd. Witnesses claim one of the individuals was creating sparks with their fingers and threatening to start a fire, while the two others encouraged the behavior. Police have made no comment about these arrests and all questions about the incident have been redirected to a now defunct phone number. 

Sheila Pom was killed in an officer-related shooting two weeks ago after neighbors reported her as a Dangerous Individual under the new Sokovia Accords Act. Pom, 23, worked at her uncle’s auto body shop as a mechanic while also attending online classes to get a degree in Engineering. She was also a telekinetic - someone who can move objects with their mind. 

Pom was known to not be shy about her gifts. Pom was seen frequently lifting cars and trucks within garages without the help of equipment and is rumored to have once righted a tipped over semi-truck. Neighbors became concerned when Pom began using her gifts at home.

“We’d come home, and things would be floating up and down the street,” one neighbor said.

Another claimed Pom was unstable, and when she would become upset, things around her would begin to shake.

“I thought it was an earthquake until my TV hit the ceiling,” a source who lived in the same building Pom told GKTV, “I learned the next day her boyfriend broke up with her.”

Officers were called when Pom refused to return a motorcycle to the ground while working on it in a residential neighborhood. After a brief standoff, officers fired two shots, striking Pom in the head, and killing her. 

Pom’s family claims she was unaware of the officer’s presence, as wireless earbuds were found near her body after. Pom was known to listen to music to block the noise of machines. 

Protests began after the officers involved in the incident were cleared of any wrongdoing. 

----

A full-page ad takes over your screen, and instead of continuing to read the depressing article, you close the tab.

There has been a palpable unrest in the news cycle the past week that is starting to leave you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You’ve noticed a shift in the general narrative tone and terminology used when discussing people who have superpowers. 

Before Sokovia, before Lagos, before Connecticut, the morning shows would bring on people with amazing gifts and gently joke about them joining the Avengers as they made water fly around the set, but now those same hosts debate if they should be allowed to have the right to privacy. ‘Enhanced Peoples’ has been shortened to just Enhanceds and is now spit out like it is something dirty. 

You don’t know when the conversation stopped centering around heroes and vigilantes and started being about everyday people, but it scares you that the change happened. There seems to be no official power scale about what is deemed ‘dangerous’ and your mind keeps zipping all over the place trying to justify different lines of thinking.

Does Matt fall under the category of Dangerous? 

He is a vigilante, so by default the Accords are directed at him, but is it doubly so? If he was forced to reveal himself to the government, would they require him to wear a tracking device? Or would they try to lock him up?

Could he fight it in court, or would they whisk him away in the middle of the night and you’d never know what happened?

If Matt is deemed Dangerous because of his senses, and not just because he is a vigilante, would Minnie be considered the same?

With how intense and angry everyone is becoming you could see yourself having to take her in to be tested.

To be monitored. 

And she is just a baby. 

You can’t imagine how others must feel - people who are older, who are just trying to live their lives. The girl who was killed was just trying to fix her bike, like millions of other people do every weekend. She wasn’t going to other countries to fight terrorists. She wasn’t trying to use her powers to rule over others. She wasn’t hurting anyone.

But she was different, so they killed her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need help!”

You’re ripped from your spiraling thoughts and look across the room to where Minnie is sprawled out on the floor. Her Starkpad is in front of her, and she’s set up Pig and Scooby so they are also peering down at the device and you know exactly what she is doing.

It is the same thing she has been doing for a week straight - playing a bootleg Muppet’s math game. 

Since meeting Spider-man, all your little Mouse has wanted to do is learn math. She keeps saying she wants to impress him and make him proud, and you are in no way going to discourage her. Every day has been filled with counting and addition and subtraction and you are a bit amazed she has stayed so focused. 

You are not going to complain at all about it - you are getting time to yourself while she has been glued to Elmo and Kermit. 

You leave your phone on the dining table and head towards your daughter.

“You need help?” you confirm as you crouch beside her. The screen shows a Muppet you don’t recognize, along with various numbers floating around them, and up at the top, the equation that has your little Mouse stumped. 

“I need help!” Minnie repeats as she scrambles up off her belly and into sitting. “I don’t have enough fingers!” 

She holds up both her hands to show you all ten of her itty-bitty fingers and you make a sympathetic noise. 

Mouse has been getting pretty good at using her fingers to help her with addition and subtraction, but on only one hand. She uses the index finger on her right hand to help count by pointing at each finger and hasn’t quite worked out she can use her fingers to point and count. That is okay, though, as you are happy to lend yours to her important cause. 

“Okay, how many fingers do you need?”

You hold out your hands and she instantly begins to manipulate them. 

“This one…this one needs three! One, two, three!” She pushes your thumb and index finger down so the other three remain up, then she pushes down the pinky of the other hand. “And this one is four!”

“So, three and four? What are we doing with three and four?” You ask, trying to not laugh at her determined face.

“We adds them!” She chirps, before starting to jab at your fingers, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! That’s seven fingers! Mommy, it’s seven! Three plus four is seven!” 

“That’s right, it is seven. Which number is seven?” You direct her back to her game, where she triumphantly picks the correct symbol. The Muppet congratulates her before presenting a new equation. 

Minnie squeals in delight before ripping the device off the ground and shoving it in your face, “I know this one! Mommy! I know this one! It’s three! Mommy! It’s three!” 

You can’t even process what the question is before the screen is out of sight. Your daughter holds her Starkpad above her head, treating it like some war prize as she starts spinning and dancing around the living room. 

“It’s three! It’s three! It’s three!” 

You laugh at her antics, heartwarming at her pureness. How could anyone ever think she’s a danger?

“Are you sure it’s three?” You tease as you watch her. 

She whips around to you, eyes scrunching up into a glare, and barks, “It’s three!”

“Okay, okay, it’s three.”

You push yourself up into standing just as Mouse returns to her spot. She drops her Starkpad to the ground a little harder than you would prefer, but that is why it has a big bulky case. She plops down in front of it and happily smacks the number three that is floating around the screen.

You let yourself watch her for a few seconds, silently bombarding her with all the love you feel for her. You want to wrap her up and live in this bubble forever.

Except, there is one element missing from your perfect moment. You wish there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a chin on your shoulder. You want to lean back against a muscular chest and lose yourself to eternity like that. 

Instead of indulging those thoughts, you tell yourself to stop fantasizing and you make your way back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Vegetable curry has been simmering on the stove for most of the day. It has been a while since you had the energy to make the dish from scratch, but you had a craving this morning and went all out. You’ve made curry for Minnie before, and she did not complain - though you think that is because her portion was mostly rice and hot dog cuts. You plan to do the same again tonight, and if she wants more sauce, you’ll give it to her. 

You check your seasonings and give everything a stir to make sure nothing gets stuck at the bottom of the pot. The rich aroma tickles your nose, and you are glad you don’t have to wait much longer to treat yourself.

As you debate adding a pinch more salt, you catch Minnie sneaking towards you out of the corner of your eye. Her movements are slow and dramatic, and you pretend you don’t notice her. This ruse works, and you appropriately jump in fear when she suddenly tugs on your shirt.

“Up!” She demands and you oblige, scooping your daughter onto your hip. As soon as she is high enough, she cups her hands around your ear and leans into whisper, “Daddy saids the food smells yummy-yummy.”

She quickly dissolves into giggles, and it is infectious, so you end up smiling. 

Matt hasn’t been over for dinner in a hot minute, and you are hoping to have a nice quiet family night, before he goes out on his Patrol. The plan is to watch a movie after your meal and Minnie has already prepared for this by dragging multiple blankets out to the couch. You just know she is going to demand a cuddle pile, and now that you and Matt are intimate, it isn’t something you are nervous about. 

You just want to have a good time.

“Can you tell Daddy everything is almost ready?” you ask, even though you know Matt can probably hear you just fine. 

Mouse, always eager to be helpful, nods and relays the message directly into your ear. You try to not grimace, and so it won’t happen again, set her down on the ground. 

“Can you plug in your Starkpad so it can sleep for the night?” 

She streaks off to do her newly assigned task, leaving you to start setting the table. When you were at the store, you bought Matt a bottle of beer - a brand you know he likes - and you set it at his designated spot. You’ve grown accustomed to just drinking water and juice, but you don’t want to push that on to him - not when he’s a guest and coming over after a long day of work. 

As you start to make everyone’s plates, you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You know Minnie knows the routine for getting ready for dinner and you just hope she isn’t trying to wash Scooby’s paws again. You are worried he’ll end up moldy and you aren’t sure what you will do if that happens. You peek into the living room and are relieved to see your daughter’s best friends have been relocated to sitting on the coffee table, facing the television. 

You finish setting everything up just in time, it seems. Minnie runs from the hallway right to the door as you go to wash your own hands, and you rush to get all the soap off so you can help her open the door. 

Matt is standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever in a gray suit. He looks like he’s had a busy day - his hair is windswept, and he is sporting a strong five o’clock shadow. There is a garment bag draped over his arm and his saddle bag looks a little bulkier than usual and you wonder if he ran some errands on his lunch - picking up his dry cleaning and such. 

You barely have time to take in his appearance before Mouse is launching herself at him.

“Daddy!” She shrieks and Matt oh so easily swings her up onto his hip. “Daddy! We’re having vege-tuhble kermies for dinner! I helped make it! I cut up ALL the carrots! By myself!”

“By yourself, huh?” Matt confirms, a bright, warm smile taking up his entire face. “Soon you’ll be making us dinner.”

You step aside so he can come in and help to take his things to hang while Mouse soaks up his attention. 

“No! Mommy makes dinner because…’cause she makes the bestest foods. I just help!”

“You are a very good helper,” you interject, “You keep a very clean workstation. A professional chef would be proud.”

Minnie beams at the praise, then a microsecond later, is wiggling in to be let down. Her feet hit the ground and she takes off running back toward the living room, probably to collect something to show off to her Daddy. 

Matt takes the small break to turn his attention to you. A hand goes to your cheek, and instead of a brief ‘hello’ peck, he kisses you like he wants to turn and pin you to the wall. It catches you off guard, but you easily melt into it. You clutch at the lapel of his suit jacket and try to not moan as he nips at your lips. You open your mouth for him, but being the tease he is, he pulls back just enough to whisper against you.

“Been thinking about that all day.” 

The words send your blood rushing - some north to your cheeks and the rest to your cunt. 

He’d been thinking about you? About wanting to kiss you? Or has he been thinking about more than that - because you must admit, you’ve been thinking about it. You’ve had more than a few thoughts about what you want to do to him the next time you two are alone together and those thoughts were certainly very explicit. 

“Matt…” you totally do not whine out but instead of replying, his grin just turns cocky. He pulls away as Minnie returns to the entryway, and you decide you need a drink of your water. You escape and Mouse starts showing off her latest masterpieces to Matt. 

Food coloring, cotton balls, and popsicle sticks have proven to be a massive hit and Minnie has made a whole collection of things for Matt - there’s butterflies and flowers, a house with clouds, and various abstract pieces. You are sure his office is already filled to the brim with his daughter’s art, and you would not be surprised if he started to hang things from the ceiling when he does run out of room. He seems to treasure every little thing Minnie has given him and it warms your heart so much. You hope that love never runs out. 

Somehow, Matt ushers Minnie back to the dining room while she shoves different papers into his hands and gets her up in her booster seat. 

“I’m going to put all these in my bag, so they don’t get dirty or lost, okay?” He tells Minnie, who nods way too enthusiastically. 

“Keep them clean!”  And then, just like that, she switches from being excited her Daddy is there to being a hungry toddler. She whips around to face you and asks in an almost impatient manner, “Can I has my hot dogs now?”

You give her the go ahead as Matt returns to the table and takes his place. You quickly tell him the placement of everything, including his beer, then quickly add, “If you don’t like it, I have a few different things I could make you. Or we could order something.”

A brief panic runs through you when Matt scoffs. You think you’ve insulted him - having him come all the way to Chelsea to eat a dinner he won’t enjoy and having to find a substitute. 

“I love curry and this smells delicious. I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, I’m hoping some of those leftovers on the stove are for me to take home and lord over Fog tomorrow.”

You flush at his sweetness and mumble out you’ll pack him some to go. This seems to please him, and he starts to dig in. Ever the little parrot, Minnie mimics him by shoveling food into her mouth with a big grin and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“It’s nummy!” Your little one declares, and even if she’s just eating plain rice right now, you’ll take it as a win. You know well she won’t eat what she doesn’t like.

“Speaking of yummy,” Matt starts, slow and deliberate, with his head angled towards you, “I was hoping we could go somewhere yummy together.”

You blink slowly at the statement, rolling it over in your mind and trying to dissect the meaning. Did he want to go somewhere for dessert? Maybe get ice cream or something? “Somewhere yummy…?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, then his smile becomes a bit more sly. Even though you know it isn’t true, you feel like, behind his glasses, he is hungrily looking you up and down, “Somewhere like Uvas.”

The name doesn’t automatically generate anything for you, but after a moment, it dawns on you. Uvas in a Spanish restaurant near Central Park known to be high end and impossible to get into. It’s been in the local tabloids a few times for turning away minor celebrities who don’t meet the dress code. You’re mouth parts slightly in shock.

“What’s Oo-vuhas?” Minnie asks around her fork, her big eyes looking between you and Matt. “Do theys has yummy foods?”

“Oh, they have yummy food,” Matt teases. He then leans forward a bit in his seat and stage whispers to her, “It’s where I want to take Mommy for a date.”

“A date?” Minnie scrunches up her face at the word while your mind is still spinning. 

Matt wants to take you on a date? To Uvas? You have never been anywhere that fancy or expensive as a date. Hell, you’ve never been somewhere that fancy, period. The nicest date you’ve ever been on was Hard Rock Cafe - which says a lot about your dating life.

“A date,” Matt confirms, smug and knowingly scheming. You can hear it in his voice as he tells Minnie, “That is where Mommy and Daddy go and have dinner together as grown-ups.”

Up goes Minnie’s hand into her mouth, but it stays there only a split second. Her eyes get impossibly bigger and filled with wonder, and she whispers, “Like Lady and Tramp?”

“Exactly like Lady and Tramp.”

“Mommy!” Minnie says a little too loudly, pointing her fork at you. “You gotta go to Oo-vuhas and be Lady and Tramp! You gotta!”

And at that moment you know you can’t say no, and that Matt knows that. You can’t tell your daughter you don’t want to be like Lady and Tramp. Not that you don’t want to go on a date with Matt - the idea gets you giddy and makes your stomach flutter - but you thought if it happened, it would be a coffee or something. Not somewhere where you can’t even afford to look at the building. The idea makes you a little nauseous, because you are sure you’d make an absolute fool of yourself.

But Matt looks determined and sure of himself. You are certain he asked in front of Minnie so that she could help bully you into saying yes to such a lavish date. 

Luckily, your mind is working in overdrive, and you choke out, “I don’t have anything to wear. They have a dress code, don’t they?”

You don’t expect Matt to push his chair out and get up. Your throat instantly tightens up and fear shoots up your spine. Have you offended him? He clearly wants to do something with you and you’re over here hesitating. You must be coming off as a complete bitch. 

You start to stand up yourself as Matt disappears into the entryway. You don’t think he’d just leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.

Maybe you can talk to him - explain that somewhere a little less grand would be ideal to start.

Before you can start to follow him, Matt is coming back to the table, holding up the garment bag he brought with him, still looking like the cat that got the canary. 

“I thought you might say that,” he starts, his voice almost a little musical, “so I got you this.” 

You stare dumbly at him, shock and confusion overtaking your system. 

He got you something to wear? To Uvas? 

No one has ever bought you clothes before - except your parents. Even when you were pregnant, the small amount of gifts you got were all for Minnie. 

You distantly hear Minnie start saying something about presents, but it is all muffled under the sound of blood pumping through your ears. You step forward hesitantly and reach out for the zipper of the bag, your hand shaking slightly.

You expect it to be a joke. You’re going to open the bag and there’s going to be a clown costume inside, or a skimpy dress people like arm candy to wear, or something akin to a Burka. 

You don’t expect a black floor length sheath gown. The silhouette is simple, but you can tell just by looking at it the quality of the dress is top notch. The fabric has a nice weight to it, and it is incredibly soft to the touch that you have the distinct feeling that it did not come from a dress warehouse or a department store. 

This type of dress would come from a boutique uptown and would cost a few hundred dollars. 

You are so caught up in admiring the dress, you don’t notice Minnie come up beside you until she is also touching the dress. Panic that she might have crumbs or curry on her fingers runs through you, but you force it down.

“It’s like a princess dress for Mommy!” Mouse cooes and you feel your face start to heat up.

You’ve never worn something so nice before and certainly nothing that would be fit for a princess, but it seems like Matt and Minnie are on the same page.

“Well, I want Mommy to feel like a princess.” 

You want to hide your face, but you know you can’t, so you cover your mouth instead.

“Matt, this is beautiful. But this is so much, I can’t accept this.” 

You know that while Matt is a lawyer, he’s still struggling a bit financially. If he had his way, you know he wouldn’t charge anyone for his services, and even though Nelson, Murdock, and Page has paying customers, they still have to stagger out their bills. 

He shouldn’t be spending his hard saved money on you. 

Matt sighs your name before gently draping the garment bag over the back of his dining chair and stepping towards you. Both his hands go to your waist, and you freeze up as he steps close enough to press his forehead to yours. Your heart begins to wildly beat when his hands slowly begin to rub your sides. 

“Let me spoil you. To make up for all the dates I’ve missed. Please?” His lips dip into a small frown and you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. 

He’s gone out of his way for you, and you are being so ungrateful. 

But it is so hard to say yes. Guilt is pooling in your stomach, and you just want to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten about. That is so much easier than Matt holding you, saying such sweet things.

You don’t want to ruin everything. 

You close your eyes as you have a war inside yourself. All you have to say is ‘Yes’ and you’ll make Matt happy, but the monster inside of you keeps dragging your mind into a pit. 

Matt wants to treat you like a princess, but how crushing will it be when he decides that is no longer the case? Can you take that?

The corners of your eyes start to sting and your monster starts to mock you for getting worked up over something as simple as being asked on a date. 

Why can’t you be normal?

Why can’t you accept this?

Why can’t -

The thoughts cease as Matt’s lips press against yours, soft and sweet and tempting. You respond hesitantly.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes into your mouth, making you shudder. “You deserve it.” 

“You deserve it!” Minnie chirps from beside your knees and you very suddenly remember where you are and what you were doing. You try to pull away from Matt, thinking Minnie hasn’t seen the two of you like this yet, and it might confuse her, but he keeps his hands firmly planted on your hips, not letting you go. You don’t try to fight it, instead, you turn your head away, trying to hide away in your shell. 

You know there is no way you will win this. Matt is determined and he clearly has Minnie on his side, so, very hesitantly, and feeling like you are going to throw up at any moment, you nod into Matt’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Mouse lets out a deafening cheer and you feel her dart away.

“LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP!”

Matt laughs at her excitement over something she doesn’t understand, while you tuck yourself into his hold, wondering how long you have before he ends up shattering your heart into pieces.

---

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

Still Here

Chapter 1

Summary: After the life and home you built falls apart, you serendipitously bump into your old high school sweetheart, Timothée.

C/W: Divorce, mention of complicated pregnancy (nothing graphic)

<><><><><>

"I thought you were too good for this place, [Y/N]."

You spun around in the grocery store aisle to see your high school sweetheart, Timothée, holding a box of cereal in one hand, a shopping basket in the other, and a smirk on his face. His still very handsome face. He seemed to take great pleasure in the look of shock on yours.

"Timmy," you breathed.

"You came back."

<three weeks earlier>

The road ahead of you seemed to go on and on and on. You hadn't seen another car in at least an hour as you drove across the plains of Kansas. Your nine year old daughter, Madison, was asleep in the back seat, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Alone. That word didn't sit well with you.

A nasty divorce left you with nothing but what you could pack in your car. You had nowhere to go except back to your tiny hometown across the country in rural Tennessee to move back in with your parents. You hadn't been back since you graduated from high school 12 years ago.

You were valedictorian and had your pick of schools. Much to your parents' chagrin, you were itching to get as far away from the "sticks" as possible, so you applied to universities all along the West Coast. You were over the moon when you received a full ride to UCLA to study biomedical engineering, where you met...him. Your now ex-husband. The two of you met during convocation festivities your freshman, his junior year. You had just left your friends behind in Tennessee and had not yet built a local support network, so you latched onto this cute, kind man who picked up the book you dropped.

The kind man who later left you and your daughter to live with a younger woman who "gets" him better.

You and he dated for a little over a year before he asked you to marry him. Not one for big productions, you decided for a courthouse ceremony a few days later because you just couldn't wait to be joined with the love of your life in marriage forever. You were soon pregnant. Unfortunately, the pregnancy was not an easy one. Severe morning (more like morning, noon, and night) sickness led to multiple hospitalizations, forcing you to miss classes. You eventually reached a point of no return and had to drop out.

Your husband was still able to finish university, though, and was luckily able to quickly secure stable employment, which allowed you to stay home to care for your newborn baby. As the years passed, he became increasingly distant, staying late at work or making excuses to leave again once he was home. You weren't surprised when, after ten years of marriage, he told you he wanted a divorce, because you did, too. But you had no way to support yourself and a child. You hadn't held down a job since before Madison was born. Your work history prior to that was limited because you were so young. You had no collateral or credit history, either. Everything had been in his name.

You had to start over. You had to go back to the beginning.

<present>

Tennessee.

"You came back."

"Yes, I just recently moved back in with my parents. I-"

"Mom, can we get some chips? Nana doesn't have any good snacks," Madison complained behind you as she came back to the same aisle. Timothée went wide-eyed as he looked at the girl and then back at you. She leaned around you to stare back at him. "Who's he?"

"This is my- uh- friend from high school, Timothée. Timothée, this is my daughter, Madison."

"Whoa. She looks just like you did at that age." He shook his head as if to clear a fog. "Where are my manners?" he quipped as he stepped around you and held out his hand to her. "It's nice to meet you, Madison. Your mother and I go way back."

"You knew my mom when she was my age?"

"Before that, even. We went to school together all the way from kindergarten to senior year until she moved to California for college," Timothée replied before locking eyes with you. "She was very eager to get out of here, so I am rather surprised to run into her today."

"It's a long story." You cleared the lump forming in your throat and looked down at Madison. "We should get going. We need to get these groceries home and refrigerated again."

"Right, well, maybe I'll see you around again now that you are back in town." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I'm sure we will bump into each other." Hopefully, you thought to yourself. "It's a small town - that's practically inevitable."

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Chapter 2

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @croatianprincess

Still Here

Chapter 2

Summary: Flashback to your breakup with Timothée your senior year

C/W: Breakup

A/N: I have nothing against stay-at-home parents and homemakers. Both are their own noble full-time jobs. This is just a story about a young girl wanting to break free. And yes, the irony is not lost on me that the reader ultimately ends up in the exact situation she was running from in the first place.

Catch up on the previous chapter here.

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Life was stagnant in your small hometown in Tennessee. There was nothing to do, nothing to see except trees and buildings that had been around since the 1800s. The height of entertainment for teens like you was pasture parties or meeting your friends up at the Sonic drive-in for "happy hour." After high school, the boys usually either worked for the local steel mill or lumber yard. They may opt to continue their education through the area trade schools, but that was the exception, not the rule. The girls...well, the girls typically got married and had babies.

The townspeople were closed-minded traditionalists and stuck in old habits. Families, including yours, had lived there for generations. You were lucky to even find someone to date who you weren't related to by blood or marriage, and that was only because Timothée's family was a more recent addition to the town census.

You yearned for more. You were made for more. You felt it in your bones. You had no desire to be a doctor or a nurse, but you were fascinated by biology classes and a whiz in physics. And you wanted to help people. The school counselor fanned the flames by introducing you to biomedical engineering as a potential degree program.

You wore a groove in your dirt driveway with the number of times you walked to and from the mailbox every day, multiple times a day. The response letters from your numerous college applications were due in any time now. Your efforts usually yielded nothing except for bills or ads for your parents. But today, there was white envelope with your name, along with a blue and gold logo in the return address: UCLA.

Your hands shook. Your heart was about to pound its way out of your chest. The world silenced around you as your tunnel vision bore into the paper in your hands. You plunged a finger under the lip of the envelope to break the seal. You took a shuddering breath as you drew the paper out.

"Dear [Y/N] [L/N], we are happy to inform you..."

You didn't even finish reading before you started screaming and dancing in the driveway. Then you took off running back to the house to share the news with your mother.

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Your parents were proud of you, but of course, they were not eager to see you pack up and move across the country. You tuned them out until they said something about being in for a rude awakening because you didn't know what life was like out there, to which you said, "That's the whole point."

You grabbed your car keys and stormed out the door. You were determined not to let them kill your excitement. They just couldn't picture a life for you outside of their bubble. You drove around the backroads with your windows down and music loud, trying to drown out the replay of your parents' conversation. Without much thought, you eventually found yourself driving around the town square. You saw Timothée's truck outside of the hardware store. You checked the time - he should be finished with his evening shift soon. So you parked and walked over, lowering the tailgate to sit.

The two of you had been friends as long as you could remember and sweet on each other for years. You became an official item when you were sophomores and had been joined at the hip since.

Seeing the store's door open shook you from your thoughts. You saw him exit, head down and hands in his pockets. Right on time. You loved how his face lit up when he saw you across the street. He checked for traffic, then jogged over.

"Hey, baby! I wasn't expecting to see you tonight." He pecked your lips with his and placed his hands on your knees.

"Hopefully, it's a pleasant surprise," you replied with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk.

"Oh, very. The highlight of my day." He kissed you once more, deeper this time, and flashed that crooked grin you loved so much. "Though my curiosity is piqued by this unusual visit on a school night."

You held out the envelope for him to see. "I got in, Timmy. And they are awarding me a full ride! My parents won't have to worry about how to finance things and I won't have to take out student loans."

Timothée took the envelope in hand and brushed his thumb over the logo. "California, huh?" he asked quietly.

"Last I checked, that's where Los Angeles is located," you chuckled.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" His brows were furrowed, and his typically full lips pressed into a thin line.

Your mouth fell open in shock. Why couldn't anyone just be happy and excited for you today? "Of course I'm serious. That shouldn't be a surprise. You even encouraged me to apply to out-of-state schools!"

Timothee held a hand to his forehead and stepped back. "Yes, because I didn't want you to wonder if you could get in. But, I didn't think you would seriously consider packing up and moving across the country if they accepted you!" he shouted and threw his hands in the air.

Your voice seemed like a whisper compared to his current tone. "If I don't leave now, I will never get out of here. I HAVE to get out of here. This place is a black hole. It eats your hopes, your dreams, your ambition. I have a lot to offer the world, and I can't do that from here. I don't want to be stuck, like our older friends, my cousins, my PARENTS. I'll just end up with a baby on my hip playing Suzie Homemaker and making nothing of myself."

"Starting and taking care of a family isn't nothing, [Y/N]. I thought...I thought we would be together forever. That WE would have that family."

"One doesn't preclude the other, Timmy. Come with me."

Timothée quietly scoffed as his eyes fell. "I have no prospects in California."

"And there's nothing for me here."

His head shot up in shock. The hurt was evident on his face. "Nothing? NOTHING?! Wow, [Y/N]."

"Timmy, that's not-"

"Just go, [Y/N]." His lip wobbled. "Obviously you think you are too good for this town. Too good for me. It's better that we call off...whatever this is...now so you can completely start over."

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Chapter 3

Masterlist

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Tag List: @croatianprincess

I am LOVING “still here”!! The story is soo good, I can’t wait to see what happens next🥹🥹

Thanks, friend! Words of encouragement are always appreciated. Getting this down on "paper" has been like therapy for me, as some of it is drawn from personal experience (obviously not with TC). Which also means sometimes it hurts, and I don't want to do it! But notes like this help me keep going.

Stay tuned for more!

Masterlist

Still Here (Chapter 3)

Summary: You have a chance to catch up with Timothée over lunch.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

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You didn't have to wait long to see Timothée again. You crossed paths at the pharmacy three days later, where you were shopping for toiletries and other sundries for you and Madison. There was something oddly...final...about buying full-size shampoos and conditioners, instead of the travel-size bottles you packed in California. Like you had finally accepted that you would be here for a while.

You spotted Timothée's distinguishable curly dark hair over on the next aisle. Your heart stuttered. You had hoped not to run into anyone you knew, especially someone with whom you shared a complicated past. Who was I kidding? This isn't a crowded Target in Cali where you can just blend in. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Should I say hello? Should I put down my stuff and come back later? [Y/N], stop it. You can't run away from this. It's a small town, and you are here for the foreseeable future. May as well embrace it. Besides, it may be nice to have a friend again, if he's willing after things ended.

You looked up at the signage above to see what was there. You didn't want to embarrass him if he was shopping for something...personal. Ah, shaving accessories. Nothing embarrassing about that. You smiled, briefly reminiscing how the boy you knew could never grow a full beard despite how desperately he wanted to.

You worked up the courage to go say hello. You intentionally came up behind him as payback for startling you earlier in the grocery store. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were stalking me, Timothée Chalamet."

He quickly spun around, initially looking over your head before looking down to meet your eyes. His big, lopsided grin sent your heart into palpitations again, just as it did over a decade ago. "Well well well, I could say the same about you, [Y/N] [maiden name], or, umm, I guess it isn't [maiden name] anymore," he fumbled and grimaced.

"It is. I'm divorced," you forced out. You still weren't used to saying it out loud. You watched as a whole range of emotions swept over his face before landing on sad, pitying look.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I wondered if that may be the case when you said you moved back in with your folks. You know, I run into your mother from time to time in town. It was through her that I knew you had gotten married and had a baby. She was always happy to show off pictures." He paused to chuckle. "But she didn't say anything about the, uh..." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"Yeah, well, my parents aren't big fans of the d-word. It was a very recent development, too, one they have not yet come to embrace despite not being big fans of Michael." You suddenly found your sneakers very interesting, unable to make eye contact with Timothée.

"Well, hey, I'm just here to grab my dad's meds. I was thinking about swinging by the diner to grab a bite to eat before driving back. Would you like to join me?"

"Uh, sure. Maddy is hanging out with my parents and they aren't expecting me back immediately. Might be nice to have adult conversation again." You chuckled. The two of you paid for your items and walked across the street to the restaurant.

Timothée, ever the gentleman, opened the door for you. Everyone looked up at the sound of the metal bells hitting the glass. Whispers started floating around as soon as you stepped foot inside.

"Is that [Y/N] [L/N]?' "I thought she was in California." "Maybe she's just visiting her family?"

You ducked your head as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You followed Timothée to a table in the corner and sat with your back to the rest of the diner, not wanting to see the curious looks. It was somewhat reassuring, though, to know that you still bore enough resemblance to your former self that people recognized you. You hardly recognized yourself in the mirror anymore.

Right as you got settled in your seat, you heard footsteps stop beside you. You raised your head to see that your server was also someone you knew from high school, Amanda. You smiled and softly said hello.

"They said it was you, but I didn't believe them. How are you doing, honey? Where is that baby of yours? Your mom hasn't been by lately to show off any pictures." Only after her barrage of questions did she look across the table. "Hey, Timothée."

"Hey, Mandy," he replied quietly.

"Oh, she's hanging out with my parents while I did some shopping. She's not a baby anymore, though." You pulled out your phone to show Amanda a recent photo.

"She looks just like you, [Y/N]! And they are always babies, no matter how old they get. How old is she? Looks about 9 or 10. I have a 12 year old, almost 13. Practically a teenager!" Amanda pulled her phone out of her apron to show you her lock screen.

"He's very handsome," you offered with a friendly smile.

"How long are you in town for?" she asked.

"Uh, well, I'm not sure. However long it takes to get back on my feet. I recently got divorced, so I am trying to figure out what's next," you replied solemnly as you traced the patterns on the paisley tablecloth with your finger. You were trying (and probably failing) not to give away how incredibly overwhelmed you were feeling. You were grateful when Timothée interrupted the exchange.

"Hey, Mandy, what's the special today?"

"Oh, of course! You are here for a reason, after all. I was so eager to see if it was really [Y/N] that I forgot the menus. I'll be right back." She patted your shoulder before retreating. She returned as quickly as you could mouth "thank you" to him.

The two of you silently scanned the menu and then placed your orders. As you waited on the food, you easily fell into conversation about high school, then your time in California. You had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Timothée. You gleefully showed him pictures on your phone of your favorite landmarks and landscapes until you accidentally swiped to a photo of you, Madison, and Michael together at one of the national parks. The reminders of the fleeting happy times were painful.

Sensing the shift, Timothée grabbed your hand. You felt lightning surge throughout your body from his touch. He squeezed once and then let go just as quickly when he spotted Amanda heading to your table with your orders. You looked up and saw the smirk on her face as she eyed the two of you.

"Enjoy! I'll come back to check on you in a bit."

You turned to look at Timothée. "You know we are going to be the hot gossip for at least the next week, right?" you said playfully.

"Let them talk. There are worse rumors than being spotted with you." He cleared his throat, then popped a French fry in his mouth. "So, was there anything you missed about Tennessee?"

You, you thought automatically. "I eventually came to miss how much simpler things feel here. How life slows down in the woods and the mountains. In LA, everyone is always in a hurry. There is so much traffic. There were so many people, yet it was so lonely. Michael was really my only friend there." You went on, and Timothée listened intently as you provided a high-level retelling of what brought you back.

"...and so I packed up our clothes and a few belongings and drove out here. I got into town about two weeks ago and have been laying low with my tail between my legs." You stared down at your now empty plate in shame.

"Does he stay in touch with Madison?"

"No. He barely saw her after we separated, and he hasn't reached out since we left the state. But she's convinced that he's going to send for her to come live with him once he's settled in his new house in Sacramento with his girlfriend."

He shook his head. "You deserve better than that. SHE deserves better than that." You detected a hint of anger and disgust in his tone.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, we are both paying the price for my poor decision-making." Your voice was thick with remorse. "She doesn't deserve to pay for my mistakes."

"[Y/N], you can't do that to yourself. You were young. All you can do is make the best of now." Amanda came by and set the check down on the table. You were grateful for her timing because you weren't sure what to say next. Your fingers brushed his as you both reached for the ticket.

"Please, let me get this," he said assertively. "I invited you to join me, remember?" He slid his credit card and the check over to Amanda, whose face was all grin. People were definitely going to hear about this.

You narrowed your eyes with playful scorn. "Fine, as long as you let me get it next time," you rebutted before fully thinking it through.

"Next time, eh?" His eyes lit up as he cocked his head to the side.

You blushed. Whoops. "Umm, yeah, next time. All we talked about was me today. We didn't even get to what you have been up to for the past 10+ years!"

"Fair enough, though that won't take long to tell," Timothée shrugged and signed the receipt after Amanda returned. You both stood and walked out the door to make your way back to the pharmacy parking lot.

"You still have the same truck!" you exclaimed. You jogged the rest of the way and ran your fingers across the emblem on the front. You and he made a lot of...memories...in that truck.

"Yep. Restoring her became somewhat of a hobby when I came back from Texas."

"Texas?" You never knew he left town. From what you remembered, he had never planned on going anywhere, especially not that far.

"A story for another day. Next time, remember?" he smirked.

"Well, maybe we should actually make plans for a next time instead of just hoping we run into each other in town. Here." You handed Timothée your phone. "Plug in your number so we can chat."

This time it was his turn to blush. He took the device from you and called himself. "So I can save your number as well," he offered.

You recognized the digits when you had your phone back in hand. "You never changed your number."

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

You laughed softly. "Fair enough."

"Well, I better get going. It was good to see you again, [Y/N]."

Timothée opened his arms for a hug, which you reciprocated. For a moment, all was right in the world with your head on his chest. I missed this. But I can't want this right now, you lectured yourself. You stepped back and gave him space to get into his truck. He rolled down his window to say goodbye once more.

"Tell your folks I said hello, please," you called out over the noise of the engine. His smile fell just briefly.

"You do the same."

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Chapter 4

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess

Still Here (Chapter 4)

Summary: Timothée invites you and Madison out to the lake.

A/N: This Timothée variant is so dad-coded that I'm falling in love with him myself.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

You spent the next few days helping your mother clean out and rearrange your old room to be livable once again instead of a dedicated craft space. You checked your phone constantly the first couple of days after your lunch with Timothée, but slowly resigned yourself to the fact that he may not reach out after all. You wouldn't blame him if he had changed his mind. The two of you hurt each other pretty badly all of those years ago and were practically strangers again thanks to time and distance.

On the fifth day, as you were perusing job ads in the local newspaper, you heard your phone ding. You stared at the device for a moment in disbelief. Was it going to be a message from him, or just another spam text that gets your hopes up? You flipped it over and spotted:

"Want to go out to the lake on Saturday?"

You bit your lip and grinned, hugging your phone to your chest. Finally.

"Sounds fun! Let me see if my parents are available to hang out with Maddy." "She's welcome, too."

Wow. You weren't used to that. Your "friends" in California weren't much on kids tagging along on your outings. It got to a point where you didn't go out much at all because getting a sitter was too expensive.

"Really? Thanks! I think she'd enjoy getting out of the house." "Of course. Let's meet at my place early around 7am so we can have some fun before it gets hot. Do you remember how to get here?" "As long as you are still on Hawk Road, I can manage ;)" "Yep. See you in a couple of days."

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Saturday morning finally arrived. It was hard to convince Madison to get out of bed, but with some persuasion (i.e. favorite breakfast) she was up and dressed relatively quickly. You went through your verbal checklist to ensure you had everything you both needed for day of fun in the sun:

"Phone charger, check, snacks, check, cooler of drinks, check, sunscreen, check, spare clothes, check. Alright, I think we have everything. Let's load up!" As expected, you were able to find Timothée's place with ease. He had a small house on the same land as his parents. You had spent enough time there as a teenager that you still knew the route like the back of your hand.

Timothée was already outside packing stuff into the bed of the truck when you arrived. He turned and waved as he heard your car make its way down the gravel driveway. Once you stopped, he walked up and opened the door for you. Another gesture you weren't used to anymore.

"Good morning!" You looked up at him from your car's seat and smiled. He hugged you once you stood.

"Morning, [Y/N]." He pulled back to look at your face, smiled again, then looked to the side as he spotted movement behind the car. "Hey, Madison!"

"Hey," she replied flatly as she walked up to the two of you. You pulled the girl into your side.

"Mornings aren't her favorite. She'll warm up eventually." You looked down to give her that "mind your manners" look.

"That's alright. I'm not a morning person either, unless I'm up for something fun. Like today!" Timothée said cheerily. That's when you noticed something connected to his truck.

You leaned around him and exclaimed, "You have a boat now?!"

He chuckled. "I did grow up a little bit while you were away, [Y/N]."

You laughed awkwardly, but then quickly froze when you realized, "Oh no, we don't have life jackets. I didn't know, so I didn't plan for..."

"Don't worry, I already thought through that. I had an extra adult one on hand and borrowed a kids' life jacket from the neighbors. By the way, they have some kids around Madison's age. I think their youngest may even be in the same grade in the fall. They want to meet you both."

"Oh, it would be so great if Madison could at least know one other kid when school starts up. Are they new in the area?"

"Relatively. They moved in about five years ago," he replied.

"Ah, I see. I have a lot of catching up to do," you noted. You looked down at your daughter and squeezed her shoulder, "And we have new friends to make."

"I may not even still be here when the new school year starts, remember?" Madison grumbled.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have some friends around when you come visit your grandparents, though, right?" Timothée chimed in.

She shrugged. "I guess not."

"Right, well, back to the fun at hand. Before I saw the boat, I was going to offer that we all pile in my car since there is more space. We can just follow you over there instead," you stated.

"Nonsense. We can all fit in my truck. Here, let me put your things in the back." You opened the trunk and allowed him to transfer your bags and cooler.

As he walked away, you bent down to talk to Madison quietly. "His truck only has one row of seats. Are you okay with sitting in the middle between us?" Just because you had known Timothée most of your life didn't mean she would (or should) be automatically comfortable around him.

"Sure, I've never ridden in a truck like this before, or in a boat!" You could tell she was starting to perk up. She ran over when Timothée opened the heavy passenger door of the old blue truck and climbed inside eagerly. "Whoa, we're so high up compared to your car, Mom!"

Once you followed suit, Timothée shut the door and ran around the front to the driver seat to join you. "Alright, everyone buckled up?" he asked. You and Madison nodded. "Then let's go!"

As he drove, you pointed out some of the places from your childhood. This triggered some reminiscing on Timothée's part about some of the shenanigans the two of you got into, which made Madison giggle. She seemed to enjoy hearing about some of your irresponsible moments. Hearing her laugh again was like music to your ears. You looked over at the two of them as they laughed together. Even though it was at your expense, you couldn't help but smile. Maybe this is what it could have been like had you stayed, the two of you together with a child in between.

Your arrival at the lake interrupted your reverie. Soon the three of you were out on the water and heading for a cove Timothée liked to frequent. Madison sat at the front of the boat with you close behind. She was nervous at first, gripping the edge of the boat, but quickly loosened up. Her long blonde hair flowed behind her as she faced into the wind. She looked back at you with a grin and yelled, "It feels like I am flying!" You laughed and waved, then looked back at Timothée, who was watching the two of you with a soft smile...

...which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. "Watch this!" he shouted. Now out on open water, he opened the throttle on the motor. The nose of the boat raised out of the water with increased speed. This time, you were the one gripping the edge of your seat while your daughter screamed, "Woohoo!" with both hands in the air. You could hear Timothée laughing behind you.

Much to Madison's disappointment, Timothée had to slow down as you neared the cove. When you approached the shore, he turned the motor off and jumped out to drag the boat to the bank. The girl jumped from the boat to the sand. "That was awesome!" she exclaimed as she shucked her lifejacket.

Timothée offered his hand to help you down then grabbed the bags and cooler. "Glad you're enjoying yourself, kiddo. Now, can you help me find a spot to set up our stuff?" he asked.

Madison ran up a small hill and quickly spied a dry grassy space to lay out the blankets. "Over here!"

"That's perfect, Maddy." You laid out a blanket. "Why don't you sit here, take your shoes off, and put sunscreen on, then you can go wade around while I get everything else set up. But no swimming until one of us can join you."

Madison rolled her eyes. "Okayyyy..."

You raised an eyebrow. "Or I could make you sit here all by your lonesome while Timothée and I swim, if you're going to be like that."

"No, no, I'm good. Shallow water only." She gestured to cross her heart then ran back down the hill.

Timothée set the cooler down beside you. "I know it wasn't part of your plan years ago, but you're really good at that."

"What's that?" You gave him a questioning look.

"The whole mom thing. You seem to have a knack for when to give her space and freedom, and when to rein it in. Oof, and that eyebrow raise. Even I stopped in my tracks."

You laughed. "Oh just wait until I have to break out her middle name. That's when it's really serious, Timothée Hal Chalamet." He playfully shuddered. "But, uh, thanks. I feel like I fail at it all the time. Especially these last few months. Parenting is supposed to be a two person job, you know. Or more. Like they say, it takes a village." You dropped your head to prevent him from seeing the tears welling up in your eyes.

Timothée reached out to lift your chin. "I think you'll find a village here to help you, if you give them a chance." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.

Before you could respond, Madison interrupted with a squeal. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat as you quickly turned to investigate. "A fish touched my leg!"

You both chuckled. "I guess we better get down there," you said. You both undressed down to your swimwear and joined her. The three of you played and swam for hours. Once Timothée caught you by surprise by grabbing your waist, hoisting you out of the water, and throwing you back in. Madison giggled when you came back up spluttering, then asked to be thrown next.

This continued for several rotations until he was worn out. Both you and he needed a break. Madison was still going strong but was willing to come back into the shallows if it meant staying in the water.

Timothée sat beside you on the blanket as you dried yourself off. You could tell an idea dawned on him by the look on his face.

"Is it alright if I let her drive the boat around a little when we're back in open water? With help, of course?"

"Sure. That should be incentive enough to get her out of the water." You paused. "Thank you for today. I haven't seen her smile and laugh this much in months. It's all been so hard on her."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I come out here all the time to get away from life for a bit. Based on what you told me at lunch the other day, you hadn't had a chance to just stop and have some fun. I'm glad I could offer that."

"You...you're being so sweet to me."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we never talked about the way we ended things. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you weren't important to me."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have been happy for you. Instead I selfishly focused on what I was losing versus what you were gaining. After some time, when I was able to see past my own hurt and look at things more objectively, I realized how incredibly brave you were to pack up and chase your dreams," he replied.

"I didn't reach them, though," you said sadly.

"Yet. You still have time," he said matter of factly.

You scoffed. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but life is too crazy right now to even think about finishing school."

"Well, just don't lose sight of it. K?" You nodded. "So shall we pack up and head back?" He stood and offered you his hand.

"All good things must come to an end, sadly," you replied, allowing him to help you stand. The two of you folded up the blankets and hauled the stuff back to the boat.

As you predicted, Madison whined when she saw what was going on. "I don't want to go yet!"

You smirked and looked over at Timothée. "I got this," he muttered to you under his breath. "Hey, kiddo, would you want to go if I let you drive the boat?"

"Really?!"

Timothée nodded. "Only when we get out in open water, but yes, I'll show you how to steer."

Madison looked at you with big puppy dog eyes. "Can I really drive it, Mom?"

"Hmm," you put your finger and thumb on your chin to look deep in thought. "I suppose so."

"Yes!" She jumped up and down and pumped her fist in the air.

"Now go get your shoes and lifejacket back on," you instructed. You all loaded up in the boat and set on your way. Madison was visibly vibrating with excitement as she sat beside Timothée next to the motor.

"Ready?" he asked once out of the cove. She nodded emphatically. "Alright, we're not going to go as fast as we did on our way out here, ok? Now, you have to face forward, but put your hand here on the handle behind you. Good. You will need to push or pull the handle in the direction you want to go. If you want to head right, push right. Left, pull left."

"Got it. Right is right, left is left."

"Ok. I am going to twist the handle to get us going again. You focus on where we're heading." She looked at him very seriously and nodded. Timothée slowly increased the speed. Madison looked nervous for a brief moment as she experimented with how far to push or pull to get the boat to move.

"You're already a pro!" Timothée shouted.

"Look Mom, I'm doing it!" She beamed. It was a beautiful sight. You pulled out your phone and took their picture. You made a mental note to send it to Timothée later.

Madison steered the boat almost the entire way back to the boat ramp, and then Timothée took over. After he expertly brought the boat to rest at the dock, you and Madison unloaded your belongings while he got the truck. After loading up and heading out, Madison fell asleep against your shoulder before you even got to the highway. You rested your cheek on her head, reveling in the closeness. She didn't come to you for cuddles like she used to.

The girl stayed asleep even once you arrived back at Timothée's house. He gently picked her up and carried her to your car.

"Thank you for your help," you said softly as you stood by the car door. "And thank you again for today."

"I enjoyed it. Hopefully we can do it again sometime this summer."

"I'd like that, and I think it's safe to say she would, too." You grabbed the door handle and turned. "Hey, uh, want to grab dinner sometime this week?"

Timothée smiled. "Yes."

<><><><><>

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your mother fills you in on unexpected news about Timothée's past, and you meet his neighbors. You make a new mom friend!

A/N: Fem!reader's relationship with her mother isn't the healthiest. Mention of death of parent.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

After you got home and helped Madison inside, you sent Timothée the picture of him and her together on the boat.

Thought you might like to have this.

You walked to the living room where your parents were watching TV. You collapsed onto the sofa in exhaustion.

"Did you have fun?" your mother asked.

"We had a blast. Timothée took us out to the cove on the other side of the lake to swim. He even let Maddy drive the boat on the way back."

She smiled. "It was good for both of you to get out and have some fun."

"I agree. I feel...lighter. Timothée said that his neighbors have kids around Maddy's age. One of them may even be in her grade in the fall."

"Oh, that'll be nice for her."

"I'm going to ask him to introduce us so maybe she can get to know them before the school year starts. It'll be nice if she can know at least one kid."

Your mom hesitated. "Are you- do you think you'll be hanging out more often with Timothée?"

You cocked your head to the side, confused by her question. "Well, yes. I haven't really re-connected with anybody else here yet. It just worked out that I ran into him at the grocery store. And, well...it's almost like no time has passed at all."

She nodded. "I get that. But just- just be careful with his feelings. He's such a sweet boy and he has been through a lot."

You typically appreciated how your mom rose above small-town gossip, but not in this case. "What do you mean?"

"Not my story to tell. But if he hasn't told you already, I do think you should know that his mother passed away a few years ago."

Your hand shot to your mouth to silence your gasp. "Oh no. What happened? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Like years ago when it happened?!"

"Well, you were going through your own troubles, and you and he hadn't spoken in years at that point. He had enough on his plate without an ex-girlfriend vying for attention."

"I- I could have called him. Messaged him. Offered my condolences instead of coming across as callous or obtuse. Oh, now it makes so much more sense why he said he's helping out his dad. Or the look on his face when I said to tell his parents hello from me." You clasped your hand to your forehead. You had always liked Mrs. Chalamet.

"Just...spare his feelings. You already hurt him once." She gave you her classic condescending look.

"Spare his fee- He hurt me, too, you know!" You raised your voice in return. "And I'll have you know we talked through that today. Like adults!" You got up and stormed outside to the porch swing. She has some nerve. You sat there with your arms crossed, staring out across the field, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

She reminds me so much of you. She doesn't just look like you. She acts like you, too.

You smirked.

Bless her heart.

That's not a bad thing.

Don't tell her that. She'll just roll her eyes. But I get it. She wants to be her own person.

Hmm. Opinionated and stubborn. Sounds like someone I know.

She does come by it honest.

You laid your phone beside you and let out a long sigh. What am I supposed to do with the information Mom just told me? How do I even bring it up in conversation? I can't not say anything, but I also don't want to make him sad. You picked up your phone again when it buzzed.

She's a cool kid. Want me to see if my neighbors are available tomorrow to meet so she can hang out with other kids?

That would be lovely. We're free all day.

Stay tuned.

By that point you had cooled off, so you decided to go apologize to your mother for raising your voice and check on Madison. She had fallen asleep again in her room. Poor thing was tuckered out from the lake. You figured she would wake up soon to announce that she was hungry. Your phone buzzed again.

How about 6pm at the park on the square? They have church in the morning, and it's too hot to play outside in the early afternoon.

Sounds like a plan. Will you be joining us?

Nah, I'm going to just make you guess who you are supposed to meet. Of course I'm coming.

You snorted at his sarcasm.

Just curious. You know what happens when one assumes things. See you there.

I can come pick y'all up since you're on the way. No sense in three vehicles heading to the same space when two will do.

You drove us all the way out to the lake and back. Why don't you leave your truck at my parents' place and we can ride in my car.

Ok. I'll be there around 5:30.

<><><><><>

By 5:00pm the next day, you had changed clothes three times trying to find something cute but practical for the park. I really need to go shopping for myself at some point, you thought. Madison came into your room every five minutes to ask when Timothée was going to be there.

He was punctual and drove down the driveway at exactly 5:30. Madison beat you out the door and ran down the steps to give him a hug, which shocked you both.

"Hey there, kiddo, long time no see." He patted her on the back.

"But, I just saw you yesterday." She looked up at him in confusion.

He chuckled. You interjected quietly, "It's a figure of speech, Mads. He was being sarcastic because he did just see you yesterday."

"Ohhh."

You heard the screen door shut behind you and footsteps on the porch. Timothée stepped around the two of you and jogged up the steps to give your mother a hug and shake your dad's hand. "Mr. and Mrs. [L/N]. Good to see you."

"You, too, honey. It's been a while since I've seen you in town," your mom replied.

"Oh, well, I've been busy between the shop and taking care of my dad."

Your eyes dropped to the ground. You dragged the tip of your shoe through the dirt. The clues had been there all along; you just didn't see them. You turned to find Madison was already in the car and buckled, waiting as patiently as a 9-year-old can. You got in partially to start the car so she would have some air.

"Well, we better get going. Thanks for letting me leave my truck here," you heard Timothée say.

"Y'all have fun," your dad called out.

Your mother followed Timothée to your car. You rolled down your window and shut the door. "Did you pack some sunscreen and water?" she quizzed you, looking inside as he got in on the other side.

"Yes, Mom."

"What about snacks and extra clothes if Madison gets dirty?"

"I have all of that under control. And if I forgot something, we're a whopping 15 minutes away," you responded.

"Okay." She patted your arm that rested on the car door. "Have fun, stay out of trouble."

"Bye, Mrs. [L/N]," Timothée said sweetly as he waved.

"Bye, Nana!" Madison yelled from the back.

You looked over at Timothée as you rolled up the window. "Sorry about that."

"She cares. It's sweet. You shouldn't take it for granted," he said, looking down at his hands.

You hesitated. "Timothée, I- she told me last night about your mom. I'm so sorry. She was such a kind woman. If I had known, I would have reached out." You grabbed the hand of his closest to you and squeezed before returning yours to the steering wheel.

"Thanks, [Y/N]. I miss her a great deal, but it's getting easier with time."

All of you were silent for the rest of the drive. The nervousness of meeting new people was catching up to you. Did I upset him? Will I be able to carry on conversation with the parents without it getting awkward? Will Madison get along with the kids? you worried. You drove up to the park and spotted a family there already with three kids.

"Is that them?" you asked and nodded your head in their direction. Timothée looked up and around.

"Yep. That's Blake and Holly. The kids are Anthony, Emerie, and Bradley. Ready?"

"Yes! Let's go!" Madison interrupted before you could respond. The three of you got out of your car and crossed the parking lot. As you got closer, Madison's earlier eagerness morphed into shyness. She tucked herself against your side.

"Timothée! Over here!" you heard the woman, Holly, call out. You all walked over to the picnic table where they were gathered.

"Hey, Holly, Blake." Timothée nodded then gestured to you and Madison. "This is [Y/N] and her daughter, Madison, who I was telling you about."

"It's so nice to meet you," Holly said as you all shook hands. She bent over to eye level with Madison. "Especially you! You're 9, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"My Emerie is 9, too. Let's see, where is she?" Holly stood. "Kids, come over here, please," she shouted. The three children ran over to their mother. "This is Anthony. He's 11, and Bradley here is 6. And this is Emerie. Kids, this is Madison. She's Emerie's age."

Madison shyly waved. Emerie stepped up and asked, "Want to go slide with me?" Madison nodded and followed. The boys took their soccer ball out to the field to continue playing. Echoes of the girls' giggles soon filled the air.

Timothée sat beside you on the bench seat of the picnic table to watch Madison play. You looked across the table at Holly and Blake. "Thank you for meeting us here. And for letting Madison borrow the lifejacket yesterday. She had an absolute blast."

"We're happy to meet someone new! We didn't know anyone when we moved here a few years ago, so we understand what it's like to start over. Though I understand you grew up here?" Holly asked.

"I did. But I moved to California for college when I was 18 and lived there until just recently. This is a strange new world for Madison, though."

"It'll get easier for her with time. It seems like she and Emerie have hit it off quite well." Holly smiled. "She should acclimate quickly in school, too. The teachers are fantastic."

"That's so good to hear. I need to go take care of her registration paperwork soon."

"I had to do it with Anthony after we moved, if you need any help," Holly offered.

You smiled. "Thanks. I might take you up on that." The two of you continued to converse about kids, school, and life in California. It seemed promising that the two of you could become friends, too. Your first mom friend.

Madison came running over at full speed and stopped just short of the table. She leaned down with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "Emerie said I could come over and play sometime. Can I?" she asked through her panting.

"Well, if her parents are also okay with it." You looked over at Holly who laughed and nodded. "Then yes."

"She said yessss!" Madison yelled as she ran back to playground. All of the adults chuckled.

You looked over at Timothée and smiled. "Thank you for this," you said quietly. He said nothing, just bumped your shoulder with his. Holly looked at you with a little smirk.

As the evening came to a close, you exchanged numbers with Holly and thanked her and Blake again. You both wrangled your respective children and parted ways.

Madison talked a mile a minute on the way home about her time with Emerie and even expressed some excitement about going to a new school. Neither you nor Timothée could get a word in edgewise. Once you arrived home, you asked her to run inside and get ready for a shower while you said goodbye to Timothée.

"Mission accomplished," he said warmly as he watched the girl skip up the steps and through the front door.

"Indeed. That's the first I've heard her embrace being here for the new school year and looking forward to it. Thanks for coordinating and tagging along. I'm sure you had to be bored," you said, walking with him to his truck.

"On the contrary. I had a good time. They're good folk. And you two are cool, too." He winked, and you blushed.

"So about that dinner I mentioned yesterday. My treat this time, if you're still game. We still need to catch up about YOU." You playfully poked his chest.

"As long you let me drive. Maybe Friday? We can drive into Hartley. I know a good place, and there is something I want to show you."

<><><><><>

Chapter 6

Masterlist

<><><><><>

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 6)

Summary: Dinner with Timothée reveals feelings.

"There is something I want to show you."

It was Friday, so your curiosity over his words could finally be sated. Timothée was due to pick you up about 6 o'clock so the two of you could go out for dinner in the closest city of any appreciable size, Hartley. Unsure of where exactly where you were going, you opted for a cute blouse, jeans, and cowboy boots.

Madison was cozy on the couch with her grandparents with a bowl of popcorn in her lap when you walked out of your room. She had convinced them to watch the new Wonka movie with her while you were away. You hugged them all and kissed Madison on the head.

"Be good, do as you're told, and remember to brush your teeth."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mom."

"Love you!" you called back to her as you grabbed your things and walked to the door. Right as you looked out the window, you saw Timothée's blue truck pull up. You locked the door and skipped down the steps. It felt like you were in high school all over again. You were all smiles as you walked quickly to the passenger side.

"Hi!" you said cheerily as you climbed in.

Timothée looked up and down at your outfit. "Howdy," he replied through a grin.

"Hey now, I can get right back out of this truck if you're going to make fun of me," you sassed.

He held up his hands to feign surrender. "No, no. It's a good look! I swear!"

You playfully popped him on the arm. "So where are we going?"

He put the truck in gear and moved along. "There is an Italian restaurant I love to visit when I'm in town. Thought we could go there."

"And?"

"And what?" He clamped down his lips to prevent himself from smiling.

"There was something you wanted to show me. Surely it wasn't an Italian restaurant."

"Oh yeah, that. Yes, definitely that, too," he said with an exaggerated nod.

"What is it?!"

"You'll have to wait about..." He looked over at the truck's clock. "30 minutes to find out. We'll stop there before dinner so you can actually enjoy the food instead of wonder."

Timothée drove through Hartley's downtown square, pulled up in front of a closed shop, and turned off the truck. "We're here!" he said excitedly.

You looked around. "Ooo...kay. Where is 'here'?"

"Well, come on, get out of the truck."

"But Timothée, everything on this street is already closed for the night."

He held up a key. "Yep!"

He walked to a storefront and opened it up. You followed him through the door. "Wait here," he instructed. He walked to the back and flipped on the lights. You found yourself surrounded by the most beautiful wooden furniture you had ever laid eyes on.

"Welcome to my store."

"Yours. This is yours?" You spun around to take it all in.

"Yes. I made all of this."

"You what? Oh, wow. Mr. McDowell from wood shop would be so proud."

Timothée chuckled. "He was, actually. Bought a chair for his deck before he passed. Your mother bought a piece, too."

"She did?" You went through a mental list of all the furniture in the house as you walked through the showroom. "The porch swing?"

"Yep."

"I love that swing. Even more so now." You fingers gingerly grazed the handcrafted dining table next to you. "It's beautiful."

"Yes," Timothée said, not looking at the table, but at you. He cleared his throat when you turned and made eye contact. "Thank you."

"Where did you learn how to do this? Let me guess, another hobby you took up after you came back from Texas?" you inquired.

He shrugged. "Something like that. I needed to keep my hands busy. I turned the barn on my parents' land into my shop, and I sell out here. More traffic."

"What took you to Texas, anyway?"

Timothée's stomach growled. "Maybe we should discuss over dinner."

You stifled a giggle. "Fair enough. But don't think you are getting out of talking about yourself that easily."

The two of you loaded back up in the truck and drove a couple of blocks away to the Italian restaurant Timothée raved about. After you were seated on the patio and placed your orders, you set your chin in your hand and stared at him.

"Now spill." You grinned and waggled your eyebrows.

Timothée smiled. "Where should I start?"

"Well, the last I time I saw you before running into you at the grocery store was graduation. How about there?"

"As you know, I still hadn't figured out what I wanted to do. I hadn't made any plans for college, so I continued working at the hardware store for a while. That got boring. Sure as hell didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. So I started taking some auto mechanic classes at the vocational school here in Hartley."

"Is that where you learned to fix up the truck?"

"Yep. But that didn't seem like the right path, either. I felt...lost. Like I said the other day, once I got over the hurt of you leaving, I began to understand that you had the right idea all along. I even seriously considered giving you a call to see if your invitation still stood, but by the time I worked up the nerve, I learned from your mother that you were getting married. I didn't want to mess that up for you."

He paused when the server came by with the food. You both thanked her and took up your utensils. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. He considered coming all the way out to California. For me.

"What happened then?"

Timothée continued his story between bites. "Well, I figured I shouldn't waste the momentum to leave this place, so I just got in the truck in left. I held down some odd and end jobs, camped out in state parks or hotels until I got to the oil fields in Texas. Found a steady job and set myself up pretty well there for a few years until Mom died. I came back to help my dad keep up with the land and the house. He's not in great health, either."

"I'm so sorry, Timmy."

He paused, fork mid-air. "You haven't called me that in ages."

"Oh, sorr-"

"No, don't be. I- I've missed it." He half-smiled.

You blushed, dropped your eyes to your plate, and cleared your throat. "Any...significant others along the way?"

"I was engaged for a bit when I was in Texas. She was a nice girl, but I broke it off because it just didn't feel right. That was right before Mom passed. Since then, between work and taking care of my dad, I haven't had much time for, uh, exploring."

"You two ready for dessert?" the server asked as she came back around.

Timothée looked from the server to you. "The tiramisu here is amazing! Want to split one? Dessert's on me."

"That sounds divine."

With the previous candor interrupted, the two of you idly chatted while you waited for dessert. You asked after some of your high school classmates. He asked you about college life in California. Timothée offered you the first bite of the tiramisu when the server dropped it off.

"Oh, wow - that IS amazing!" You covered your mouth with your hand so as to not reveal the half-chewed cake.

Timothée chuckled. "Told you," he bragged as he popped a bite into his own mouth. You continued to take turns taking slivers of the cake until it disappeared.

You leaned back in your chair. "Mmm. That was so good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

You settled the tab for the food, and he did so for the dessert. You left the restaurant and slowly ambled side by side back to the truck.

"Timmy?" You stopped short on the sidewalk in front of the truck, forcing him to turn back to look at you. "Thank you for making this whole...situation...more bearable. I can't imagine how lonely I would be right now if I hadn't bumped into you at the store."

Timothée stepped closer to you. He brushed a hair behind your ear that had been loosened by the wind. Your heart hammered at his touch and you felt heat flush your cheeks. He nudged your chin with his index finger so he could look you in the eyes.

"I should have followed you when you asked me."

<><><><><>

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh

Still Here (Chapter 8)

Summary: Madison finds out about you and Timothée.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

"How are things going with Timothée?" Holly asked while the two of you were watching the kids play.

You looked over at your new friend with wide eyes. It had only been less than a week since Timothée bared his feelings and kissed you outside the Italian restaurant. "Oh, uh, we aren't-" you stuttered and tried to play dumb.

She raised her eyebrow at you. "It's clear he's head over heels for you. I knew it from the day he called about that lifejacket. And although I don't know you quite as well, it seemed like that may be reciprocated."

"Is it that obvious?" She nodded. You huffed. "It's...complicated. I don't know if he told you, but we were high school sweethearts."

"Awww!" Holly exclaimed with a pouted lip.

"But we split our senior year when I decided to go to college in California. I was determined to get out of town, and he wasn't ready to leave. I got out there, met someone, got married a couple of years later, and had Madison about a year after that. The ink was barely dry on my divorce decree when I moved back. I didn't expect to run into him so soon. I didn't even know he was still here."

"It's a small town, honey."

You laughed quietly. "I know, I know."

"Let me guess. You are worried that Madison will be upset."

"Very much so," you replied solemnly.

"They seem to get along quite well. She may be a little shocked at first, but I think you'll find that she wants you to be happy. Especially if you explain that he's not replacing her father. My parents were divorced, too. My mom started dating soon after. Looking back, I understand why. Just because the divorce made it official didn't mean that the marriage wasn't already over well before that. You deserve to be happy."

You nodded and stared off at the kids swinging on the monkey bars. Maybe Madison was more ready to handle the news than you gave her credit for.

Holly broke you from your thoughts. "Will we see you at the carnival tonight?"

"Yes! Timothée is going to swing by around..." you stopped at the sight of her wry smile. "Oh hush you." You tried to give her a stern look before busting out a laugh.

<><><><><>

You sat on the porch swing that was handcrafted by the man you were waiting on. You wanted to sneak a kiss before Timothée came inside to greet your family. The days since your dinner date left you longing for more. Instead, you had to settle for text messages and calling each other at night until one of you fell asleep.

You heard the unmistakable droning of his blue truck down the road. You stood and paced on the porch until he parked in front of the house. You bounded down the steps and ran to the driver's side. Timothée caught you and spun, planting a big kiss on your lips as he set you on your feet.

"Hey, baby," he gushed.

You blushed and looked down at the ground.

"Too soon?" he asked worriedly.

"No. I- I like it. I've missed it. Just like old times," you grinned, making eye contact once more. He responded in like measure with a grin of his own.

"Good. Now, where's my favorite 9-year-old?" He looked around for Madison.

"She's inside working on a craft project with my mom."

"Which means I can steal one more kiss." He grabbed you and dipped you backward. You stifled a screech at the speed of it all to avoid unwanted attention from inside the house. Once his lips pulled away from yours, he stared into your eyes for a moment and then rubbed the tip of his nose on yours. "I love you."

"I know," you said warmly. You kissed the tip of his nose and he brought you back up to a standing position. You walked up the stairs together and into the house.

"Timothée!" Madison cheered.

"Hey, kiddo! Whatcha working on?"

"It's a suncatcher made out of a frame, beads, and...what kind of wire did you say, Nana?"

"Chicken wire," your mom called from the kitchen.

"Chicken wire," Madison continued.

"Madison, this is beautiful," Timothée cooed as he gently grazed the baubles with his fingers. "When you finish, I'd like to buy it and hang it up in my shop window."

"Really?" the girl squeaked. You felt all warm and fuzzy inside watching the two interact. Michael had always gotten so grumpy about craft messes.

"Yep. Who knows, you may have a line of customers asking you to make one for them. But for now, you should take a break so we can go have some fun. Ready to go to the Founders' Day Festival?"

"Yep! Just need to get my shoes on." She ran to her bedroom. Your mother joined you from the kitchen.

"That was nice of you to offer to buy that," she said to Timothée as she gave him a hug.

"I'm just trying to get an original before she's famous." He winked. "I know talent when I see it."

Madison came running back in. "Ready!" She announced. Once all goodbye hugs and handshakes were distributed to your parents, the three of you walked outside.

"Pleeeeease, can we take Timothée's truck?" Madison begged. She loved sitting up high and seeing everything.

He grinned. "You like my truck, eh?" The girl nodded so hard you thought she'd fall over. "Tell you what. If she's still running by the time you're tall enough to reach the pedals, we'll take her out to the backroads by the lake and I'll teach you how to drive."

Your eyes went as wide as saucers. You were shocked - oddly, not by the paternal gesture - but at how sure he seemed of your future. Together.

Timothée saw your face and made a choked noise before adding, "Ehrr, if your mother is okay with it, of course."

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and face - like an Etch-a-Sketch. "Of course. That's where and how I learned, too."

"Yessss!" Madison squealed.

"But you still have some growing to do," you added while climbing in after Madison into the truck.

<><><><><>

At one point, you weren't sure who was having more fun, Madison or Timothée. They zigged and zagged all over the place together, from the concession stands to the rides and games. He doted on her the entire evening. The sight of him hauling around a large teddy bear looked a scene out of a movie.

"You are spoiling her," you playfully muttered under your breath to him while Madison was busy tossing rings onto bottles.

He shrugged. "It's fun. I want her to have a good time. She's had a tough year. She deserves to have some good memories of this summer."

"You don't have to do that, Timmy."

"I know I don't have to. I want to." He smiled.

"You're amaz-"

"[Y/N] [L/N], is that you?" You turned to find the source of the shrill voice behind you. It was yet another high school classmate, Ashley. "It is you! I heard you were back in town!" She gave you a hug and looked over at Timothée. "Just look at you two! I knew you would get back together again someday. You were such a cute couple in high school."

"Oh, uh-" you stuttered as you looked over at Timothée in a slight panic. Luckily she was interrupted by her child tugging her arm before you had to formulate a response.

"Well, I gotta run. Good to see you, [Y/N]. Swing by the the bakery soon so we can catch up!" She left as quickly as she had descended upon you. You waved half-heartedly and let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding. You turned back around and noticed that Madison was no longer at the game table...

...but standing right beside you. She looked up at you in confusion. "Couple?!" You both stared at each other with mouths agape before she stalked off to the courthouse steps. You turned to Timothée and handed him your drink.

"Here, can you hold this while I go talk to her?"

"Sure, I'll be right over here."

You slowly walked up and sat on the step beside her.

"You told me you and Timothée were friends. You didn't say he's your BOYfriend," she accused.

"We are friends, Madison. He used to be my boyfriend in high school. We are still trying to figure out what we are right now," you confessed.

"Is he why we came back here?"

"No. I didn't even know he was still here, honestly. We came back here because this is my home, and I needed help from Nana and Pawpaw while I figured things out."

"If you're with Timothée, then you and Daddy can't get back together," she stated flatly. It wasn't a question.

"Sweetheart, your father and I are not getting back together. We just aren't a good fit anymore. But that doesn't mean that Timothée will replace your father if things become more serious between us. It just means you have even more people who love you and want to look out for you."

"Do you like him?"

"I do, very much." You looked up and made eye contact with him as he observed from his perch by the Ferris wheel. He shifted in his seat nervously.

She nodded and went silent for a few moments.

"Does this mean he'll hang out with us more often?" she inquired, looking over at him, too.

"I'm sure he would love to hang out even more often than he does already, if you are comfortable with that."

"I think so. He's nice, and he's fun. And you're more fun when he's around."

You laughed and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. "I'll try not to take that too personally." She leaned her head into the crook of your neck. "I love you, Maddy. I want you to know you are my number one priority no matter what."

"I know." She stood and walked toward Timothée without bothering to wait for you. You quick-stepped to catch up. He paled as you both came toward him, not knowing the outcome of the conversation. You weren't exactly sure what was about to happen next, either.

Madison stopped just short of his outstretched leg. "So do you want to be my mom's boyfriend?" she asked directly.

Timothée's mouth dropped momentarily as he regained his senses. He glanced at you before looking back at the girl. "Uh, well, yes. I'd like that very much." He leaned forward and whispered, "Do you think I should ask her?"

Madison giggled and nodded her head. "I think she'll say yes," she whispered in return. She looked back at you and winked.

"Madison!" you heard a childish voice call from your right.

"Emerie! Can I go talk to her, Mom?" she asked, now thoroughly distracted from the conversation.

"Sure, just stick close to her parents. We'll catch up with you in a second." The girl eagerly ran off to her new friend.

Timothée stood and walked to your side. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to ask if you would like to be my girlfriend - again?"

You took his hand in yours. "I'd like that very much." He looked down and softly smiled before pulling you in for a kiss. A very public kiss.

The two of you walked side by side to greet Holly and Blake. Holly looked down at your clasped hands, then back at you with a knowing smile. "Good for you," she whispered as you all followed the kids around the fair.

<><><><><>

Chapter 9

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

Still Here (Chapter 9)

Summary: Your ex calls and throws off your evening. You and Timothée make love for the first time (again), and you finally say the three little words he's been dying to hear.

C/W: Conversation with toxic ex; NSFW (oral and consensual/protected p-in-v sex, denied orgasm)

Catch up on previous chapters here.

You walked into the town's elementary school and were immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. It was the same one you attended, after all, though the hallways seemed much smaller (or normal, really) as an adult. Madison walked alongside you to the office to register for the upcoming school year.

"Oh, that was my classroom for 3rd grade. Ms. Hobbs was my favorite teacher. She had a knack for making stories come alive. She would decorate the classroom based on what we were reading at the time. Oh, we had SO much fun when we read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! I found the golden ticket and got to pick a prize out of the treasure bin."

Madison barely acknowledged your story with a "uh-huh" as she looked around, nervously biting her lip.

"I figured that would get more of a reaction out of you given your current obsession with Wonka," you said as you playfully nudged her arm with your elbow.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Mom. I'm just thinking about my old school. And my friends."

You stopped walking and gave her a hug. "I know how hard it was for me to move across the country and start at a new school, and I was an adult. Well, a teenaged adult, but still. I can only imagine how you are feeling at the moment. If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. And I'm sure Nana, Pawpaw, and even Timothée would say the same." You squeezed her to you once more. "You're a likeable girl, Madison. You'll make new friends here. And at least you know Emerie already." She just nodded, so you kept your nostalgia as you continued to the office to finish paperwork.

Evening arrived and Timothée came to pick you up for a date. It was a fantastic feeling to have your relationship out in the open now. Your mom was even supportive despite her earlier comments about sparing his feelings. Madison was sitting outside on the porch swing reading a book when he came up the steps.

"Hey, kiddo!" you heard him say cheerily through the front door. You had heard him drive up and got up to let him in, but once you saw the two talking you wanted to give them some space.

"Hey." Madison put her book down.

"I heard you got to see your new school today. What'd you think?"

"It's...small."

Timothée laughed and sat beside her. "I'm sure it's very small compared to what you are used to."

"At least I won't have a lot of new names to memorize," she side-eyed him and smirked.

"That's one way to look at it!" He bumped her arm with his. "Alright, I'm going to go say hi to your grandparents and mom."

Timothée lightly rapped on the door as he let himself in. You slightly startled him with your presence right by the door, but he quickly regained his senses and greeted you with a kiss. As he stepped around to say hello to your parents, your phone rang. It was your ex, Michael.

"Hello?" you answered in a questioning tone.

"I'm calling to talk to Madison."

"Oh, uhh, I'm about to go out, but I can give her the phone for a few minutes while I finish getting ready."

"Go out? Like on a date?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." You made frustrated eye contact with Timothée and mouthed "Michael" as you walked to your bedroom. He followed and leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"It IS my business to know who is spending time with my child," he groused.

You felt your ears heat up and your lip curl. "Like you gave me the same courtesy when you started seeing Katie," you spat. "Besides, you hardly reach out to make contact with YOUR child. You can't just call on a whim and demand to talk to her after weeks of radio silence."

"Just let me talk to her."

You muted the phone and grabbed a pillow from your bed to scream into. Despite how much you just wanted to hang up on Michael, you never wanted Madison to say that you kept her away from him. You squeezed past Timothée and walked to the front porch.

"Maddy, your dad is on the phone." She looked up at you in confusion that was quickly replaced with excitement. She grabbed for the phone.

"Daddy?" You couldn't hear what he was saying on the other end, but you heard her start listing off some of the fun things she had done since moving out here. You went back inside but only closed the screen door so you could easily hear if you needed to intervene.

Timothée was sitting on the couch. "What did he want?" he asked attitudinally.

"He just randomly wanted to talk to Madison, I guess."

"Where does he come off questioning you about you personal life?" You just shrugged, unsure of where Michael's behavior was stemming from. A few minutes later, Madison came in and handed you the phone.

"Here, he wants to talk to you again."

You took the phone back and held it to your ear. "Hello?"

"Who is Timothy? Isn't he the guy who dumped you in high school? Is the dating pool in that tiny ass town so small out that you have to resort to your own leftovers?" You didn't validate his insane line of questioning with a response. "Whatever. Why is Madison around him so much? He is basically all she talked about. What kind of influence is that blue-collar, good for noth-"

"Don't you DARE talk about him like that." Your voice was dripping with venom. You jumped up from the couch and stormed out onto the porch. Your mother, upon hearing your tone, took Madison into the kitchen to keep her occupied.

"I do not owe you an explanation for how I choose to fix what you broke," you continued. "EVERYTHING I do, I think about Madison first. Can you say the same? I ran into Timothée a couple of weeks after we got back into town, and yes we reconnected. But you know what. She probably likes him because he has spent more quality time with her in the past two months than you have in the past two YEARS. HE shows an interest in her. HE checks in on her. HE puts her first in our relationship. HE treats her like a human being, and not just to get to me. Because HE is a decent human being. Next time you want to talk to Madison, coordinate a date and time first. I am no longer available to cater to your every whim." You hung up and ran down the steps to the driveway. You angrily walked over to your dad's shed and kicked the tire on the tractor.

"Careful, you could break a toe doing that."

You spun and saw Timothée standing a few paces behind you. You sighed and closed your eyes. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to confirm that he's an asshole. Though I did enjoy hearing you sing my praises," he smirked.

You laughed wetly as hot tears poured down your face. "I'm sorry that he called right as we were about to head out the door."

"Shh, don't worry about it." Timothée pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on your head. "I know you probably don't feel like eating after getting so worked up. Would you like to come over and chill at my place instead of going out? We can pick up a pizza, snuggle on the couch, and watch a movie"

"That sounds so much better than the original plan right now."

<><><><><> (minors DNI from this point)

Timothée held the door open for you to enter his house. While you had been on the property a couple of times since returning from California, you had yet to go inside his new place. This house was not here when the two of you dated in high school, so you had no idea what the interior looked like.

"Welcome," he said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get us a couple of plates."

You walked to the couch and leaned against the back of it. "It's less...'bachelor pad' than I expected," you said through a laugh.

"Ah, well, I cleaned up my act once I started pushing 30." You chuckled. "Bathroom is over there," Timothée pointed, "if you need it." He walked around the counter and couch to the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Here, why don't you find something to watch while I divvy up the pizza."

You sat down on the couch, took the remote in hand, and started scrolling through Netflix. You still hadn't decided when he sat next to you with the pizza and beer. Still feeling the nostalgia from visiting the school with Madison, you settled on 13 Going on 30. He rolled his eyes.

"What? You told me to choose. I was inspired by your earlier comment about getting your act together at 30."

"I rolled my eyes because of the number of times you made me sit through this movie in high school. Some things never change."

"It's one of my faves!"

"Well, I guess I can appreciate the plot line a little more now. Guy in his 30s eventually gets the girl he pined over as a teen."

"Awww, you're getting sentimental in your old age." You grinned.

Timothée pretended to scowl at you, then booped you on the nose. "Are you going to press play or not?"

Once the two of you finished the pizza, you set the plates aside and curled up next to him. He draped his arm around you, allowing his fingers to lazily drift up and down your arm. As the movie progressed, his hand eventually found its way to the space above your jeans where your shirt had ridden up slightly. You shivered as he grazed the bare skin on your waist. You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked up at him. He seized the opportunity to capture your lips with his.

You hungrily opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue glide across yours in return. You eagerly shifted to sit in his lap. He reached around and squeezed your ass before sliding his hands under your shirt. At first he just snaked his hands underneath, but then began to pull it up. You sucked in a breath and froze, catching his hand at the hem of your shirt. He pulled back to look at your face with concern.

"Timothée, I- uh, I don't have the same body I did as a teenager."

His face relaxed and he smiled warmly. "[Y/N], you were and still are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Yeah, but..." you argued as your insecurities became more evident.

"Let me guess," he interrupted. "Stretch marks? More curves from maturing into a gorgeous woman whose awe-inspiring body has brought life into this world?"

You simply nodded. Your cheeks blushed from the attention.

Timothée pulled you tighter against his body. "Let me love those, too." He stood with your legs still wrapped around him. His hands cupped your ass to support you as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clasped a hand in his hair. He placed a knee on his bed and laid you down gently.

"You okay?" he asked as he hovered over you. Your breathing shuddered, but you nodded.

"It's...it's been a while," you whispered.

"Me, too." Timothée gently grazed his lips against yours. Once. Twice. He then tugged at your shirt, and this time you made no move to stop him. He pushed himself up on his arms to take in the sight of you half-naked on his bed.

"Now, why am I more undressed than you?" you teased. You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled. He sat up and continued to pull it over his head. You sat up on your knees to run your hand down his chest and abs, stopping at the buttons on his jeans.

Timothée grabbed your hips and sucked in a breath in anticipation of your next move. "[Y/N], I want you so badly."

"Not as much as I want you." You both stood and clumsily finished undressing each other while hungrily kissing each other. He snuck a hand between your folds as you freed one leg from your pants. You gasped, having become unaccustomed to the feeling of another's touch. Noticing the reaction, he curled his fingers and rubbed your increasingly sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to prevent your collapse.

Just as you started to feel the heat of climax in your core, Timothée pulled away. You whined at the absence of his hand. He flashed a wry smile and licked his fingers. He pressed himself against you and pulled your chin up for a kiss. Then, he backed you up against the bed so your knees buckled, forcing you to lay back. He separated your legs with his body and dipped down onto his knees. You knew what was about to happen, but you were still not prepared for the overwhelming sensation of his warm tongue separating your folds. You involuntarily bucked up into his face. In return, his hands snaked to your hips to pin them down. You moaned and struggled against his grip as the coil inside your belly tightened and tightened. But yet again, he stopped before you could reach your climax.

Timothée reached for the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom. Once sheathed, he picked you up and pulled you further back onto the bed. He hovered briefly, staring into your eyes. "I never thought I would get to have this - have you - again."

"Take me," you breathed. "Please. I'm yours." Maintaining eye contact, he lined himself up and gently pushed in until he filled you completely. You both stilled, reveling in the closeness and allowing you a moment to adjust and accommodate his length. He began to work his hips, rutting up against you. The coil inside you quickly constricted again when he reached between you to rub your sensitive bud until you were finally overcome. Your walls clenched around him as you clung to him with all of your limbs, gasping his name.

After you caught your breath, you cupped his face in your hands and guided him down to kiss you. He continued to slowly grind against you, trying to postpone its inevitable end. You loosened your grip so he could pull back and gaze into your eyes.

"Timothée, I love you," you whispered as you stared into his emerald orbs.

He came undone at your confession.

<><><><><>

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie

Still Here (Chapter 10)

Summary: Picks up after your steamy confession that you love Timothée in return.

C/W: NSFW-ish beginning (minors DNI); parent with terminal illness

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Timothée trembled on top of you, barely able to support his weight on his elbows as he came down from the high of his climax.

"You do?" he asked, his tone revealing an air of disbelief.

"Yes. I've known with certainty since the day we went to the lake. I thought I had pushed those feelings aside a long time ago, but obviously the embers never died. I've just been too scared to say it, like that would somehow save me from heartbreak if you change your mind."

He rolled to your side and propped his head up on his hand so he could still look at you. "I haven't changed my mind in 12 years, [Y/N]." He traced your jawline lightly with his fingertips. "Believe me, I have tried many times over the years to convince myself otherwise. You're stuck with me."

"Promise?"

Timothée nodded, nuzzling his nose against your ear. "Can I hear you say it again?" he whispered.

"I love you, Timmy."

His lips crashed down onto yours in response. His free hand landed on your hip, his fingers making indentations in your flesh as he pulled your body to press up against his. This ebb and flow of passion continued throughout the night. When the two of you were finally spent, Timothée clung to you in his sleep as if he were afraid you would disappear.

You stirred when a ray of light from the window hit your face. Waking up next to Timothée after a night of lovemaking was something you had yet to experience. As teens, you were never afforded the opportunity. You took advantage of the chance to take in the features of his peaceful face. In many ways he looked just like he did all of those years ago. The same recognizable jawline, sharp nose, and mop of dark curly hair. But there were subtle differences that you found yourself falling in love with. Laugh lines. Crow's feet. A tiny scar next to his nose. You wondered what story was behind that and made a mental note to ask him later. You found yourself hoping that you would get to stare at this face for the rest of your life.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Timothée began to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, and he smiled as his eyes focused on you.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, his voice still thick and gravelly with sleep. He pulled you in for a quick kiss.

"Morning." You smiled and sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You gently shrugged. "I wish I could give you back all the years I wasted."

"Everything happens for a reason, love. The past is the past. What we can do, though, is have fun making up for lost time." He gave you a suggestive look and squeezed your thigh. He acted like he was about to lean in for another kiss, but stopped just short of your lips. "But first, breakfast."

You took in the view as Timothée threw off the blanket and walked naked to the kitchen. You wouldn't mind seeing that for the rest of your life, either.

<><><><><>

After enjoying breakfast in bed, the two of you got dressed and Timothée drove you back to your parents' house. Needing to get back to check on his dad and work in his shop, he dropped you off in front of the house.

Before you got out, he asked, "Hey, why don't you and Madison come over for dinner this evening? Dad would love to see you again and meet Madison. And it would mean a lot to me."

You paused to think through your calendar. "Sure, we can do that. Text me later about the time and what I can bring." You kissed him on the cheek and hopped out of the truck.

Madison was sitting on the couch in the living room when you walked inside. She crossed her arms and glared at you. "Where have you been?"

You found the juxtaposed roles amusing, but tried your best not to show it. "We watched a movie at Timothée's house and fell asleep." Not exactly a lie, but she didn't need the full truth, either. Madison narrowed her eyes at you, but she was satisfied enough with the answer to return to her book.

Your mother watched the entire exchange and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. You walked past her to the kitchen with a knowing smile on your face. She followed you and asked, "Sooooo, how was your night?"

"Well, like I said, we watched a movie at his place and fell asleep." You laughed nervously and blushed.

"Mm-hmm. I wasn't born yesterday, child."

"It was....good. Really, really good."

She smiled. "Good. You needed to get some."

You scoffed. "Mom!"

"What?! Like I said, I wasn't born yesterday. I called it as soon as he said y'all were going to his place instead of out for dinner." She grinned.

"ANYWAY. Timothée invited Madison and me over to his dad's house for dinner tonight," you interjected, trying to change the subject.

"Must be getting pretty serious if he's bringing y'all home to meet the family," she quipped.

"It's not like I've never met Mr. Chalamet before," you replied insolently.

"Perhaps. But Madison hasn't."

You opened your mouth to rebut, but quickly shut your jaw with a click. She was right, though the realization did not come as a shock. "You're stuck with me" resonated in your head. Timothée was all in at this point. You ducked your head and smiled.

<><><><><>

You returned to the Chalamet's property later that evening with a bottle of wine in hand and daughter close behind you. Timothée met you at your car to give you a chaste kiss and Madison a hug. "Come on inside," he said as he guided the two of you up to the porch.

Mr. Chalamet was waiting at the front door with open arms. "[Y/N]! So good to see you again," he exclaimed as he closed the hug. "And who is this?" He looked at the girl who had half-hidden herself behind Timothée's leg.

You stepped back from the hug and waved her over. "Madison, come meet Mr. Chalamet." You heard him gasp slightly as your daughter revealed herself.

"She looks just like you did as a girl."

"That's exactly what I said the first time I saw her, too," Timothée agreed, setting a hand on Madison's shoulder in reassurance.

She looked up at you in disbelief. "Is there anyone in this town who didn't know you as a kid?" All of you laughed.

Unable to stand for long, Mr. Chalamet returned to his armchair in the living room. You accompanied him and caught him up on the highlights of your time in California while Timothée stepped away to put the finishing touches on dinner. Once Madison helped him set the table and bring out the food, the four of you took your places. Soon you were all reminiscing and laughing at the stories Mr. Chalamet told of Timothée as a boy. You could tell, though, that he was getting tired by the time dessert was served. You and Madison cleared the table while Timothée helped him back to his armchair, then joined them in the living room.

You knelt down in front of him and held his hand. "This has been lovely, Mr. Chalamet. Thank you for having us over."

"Oh, sweet girl. I'm so glad you are back." He nodded past you at Madison, who now stood by Timothée. "You've done a good job with her, my dear. Timothée talks about her all the time."

"Oh, she makes it easy." He gave you a soft smile.

"Will we be seeing more of the two of you, [Y/N]?

You looked at Timothée and smiled before looking back at his dad. "I hope so." You sandwiched Mr. Chalamet's hand between yours and squeezed before standing to leave. Madison shyly waved at him and followed you out the door. Timothée walked the two of you to your car and opened the door for Madison. Before he opened yours, he leaned down to give you a kiss.

"Thank you for this," he said quietly.

"He...seemed to be in good spirits."

"Today was a good day. Those seem to be happening less frequently. He rallied because he wanted to see you two."

You reached up and cupped his cheek. "I see now why you said this would mean a lot to you. I didn't realize he was so..." You were at a loss for words.

"Sick? Yeah. I know it may have seemed a bit premature for this, but I wanted to have, uh..." He looked up at the sky and cleared his throat to will the tears away.

"A family dinner?" you guessed.

Timothée looked down at you and nodded. "I know this is fast and you wanted to take things slowly, but there may not be time and I didn't want to lose the chance to be surrounded by the most important people in my life, those still with us at least. I can't explain just how badly I wanted my dad to meet Madison, especially. I know she's not mine, but I...I love her so much already."

"I know." You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck and cried.

<><><><><>

Chapter 11

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

Work in Progress Wednesday:

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series: Ben takes the fall for Charlie, or at least attempts to. Mom reader and Willy know better. I'm stuck on the exact scenario, so I welcome ideas in the comments or my inbox!

"Still Here" Series: Chapter 11 - Madison starts school and they find a new normal...for a bit.

Anon ask for reader fainting and TC scolds her. Small tif ensues.

Masterlist

Still Here (Chapter 11)

Summary: Madison starts school, you find a job, and your family finds a new normal until Timothée calls you with bad news. You and Madison help him through his loss.

C/W: Death, funeral of a parent/grandparent

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Time flew by after that night as you and your family (including Timothée) found your new normal. Madison started school again and quickly acclimated to her new surroundings. She joined gardening and ukulele clubs and thrived socially and academically.

You stumbled upon a part-time job at the library as a grant writer. You visited frequently to get out of the house and use the wi-fi for job hunting (AKA away from your mother reading over your shoulder). One day, you spotted a flyer on their bulletin board and inquired. They needed help finding funding for more youth and adult programs, and you needed a job and enjoyed writing. It was also flexible enough that you could be available for Madison's school functions. Win-win.

In your excitement, you rushed over to Timothée's place. He stepped out of his workshop at the sound of wheels crunching the gravel. A broad grin painted his face when he saw you get out of the car.

"Hey, baby!" he called as he walked up to you. "This is an unusual time for a visit. Not that I'm complaining, of course." He gave you a quick peck of a kiss.

You set your hands on his shoulders. "Remember that night we were fighting about me leaving for school, and I said I have a lot to offer the world and can't do that from here?"

Timothée paled as his smile dropped, unsure what you were about to say next. "Yeah...?"

"I still have a lot to offer the world, but I finally figured out I can do that from here. For here." You clasped your hands and clapped as you jumped up and down slightly. "I got a job at the library as a grant writer!"

It took a brief moment for Timothée to catch up to what you were saying before he joined you in your excitement. "That's fantastic, babe!" He wrapped you in a nearly crushing hug and spun you around. You beamed up at him when he set you back down.

"It's wonderful to see you so happy," he added as he looked down into your eyes.

"I am happy. The happiest I have been in nearly a decade."

<><><><><>

Things were looking up as you got into the groove of your new job. You and Timothée fell into a rhythm of alternating family dinners with your respective parents and date nights for just the two of you. He was also very intentional about making time to hang out with Madison. Once they discovered their shared love of bowling after he introduced her to the sport, it became their "thing" every Tuesday evening, along with dinner at the diner...

...until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

It was odd for Timothée to call or text you during the work day. He was very respectful of giving you space to concentrate on your writing and didn't want to be a distraction. You answered immediately, knowing it must be important.

"Hey, Timmy, what's up?"

You heard him sniffle on the other end of the line. "My dad, he-" He couldn't finish before he was overtaken by sobs, but you knew what we has trying to say. You gasped slightly.

"Timmy, where are you?"

"H-home."

"Stay put. I will be right there." You packed up your things and told your boss you were leaving. You sped to the Chalamet's and went to Timothée's house first. It was dark inside, but that didn't prevent you from banging on the locked door. You were met with silence. Next, you ran over to his dad's house. Thankfully the door was unlocked, allowing you to quietly enter. You found Timothée in the living room curled up in his dad's favorite armchair. You sat on your knees in front of him and buried your fingers in his dark curls.

"Oh, Timmy..."

He looked at you, but his eyes were blank. His voice sounded so tiny as he explained, "Dad was tired, so he went to take a nap when I went out to the workshop. Not abnormal these days. But when I came back to check on him..." He interrupted himself by trying to clear the lump in his throat.

You looked up toward the bedrooms. "Is he..."

Timothée shook his head. "No, uh, he's not here. I called 9-1-1, just in case, but he was gone. The funeral home where he had already made arrangements picked him up. [Y/N], he looked so...peaceful. I hadn't seem him not in pain in years. H-he got his w-wish to die at home in his sleep." His face contorted as he was riddled with sobs once more. You pulled his head to your chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Once he calmed back down to an all but catatonic state, you laid his head back down on the armrest and stepped away to call your mother to ask her to pick up Madison from school.

"You should go get Madison," he stated plainly when you returned.

"My mom can go pick her up. I am not leaving you here alone, love."

"Alone," he repeated with a slightly terrified and downcast look.

"Hey now," you responded in a soothing tone as you sank back down to your knees. "Even in the moments when you may be physically by yourself, you are not alone, Timothée Hal Chalamet." You made sure his eyes connected with yours before you continued. "You're stuck with me, remember? You have people who love you and will help you through this." You kissed his forehead before he pushed himself upright into a seated position.

"Thank you," Timothée replied solemnly, almost too quietly for you to even hear.

"I can either stay here tonight, or you can come to our place. Mom already offered."

He nodded, contemplating the options. "I don't want to be here right now, but I'm also not quite ready to leave yet, either."

"I understand. Take your time." You stood and squeezed his shoulder as you walked by to the kitchen. Doing the dishes and taking out the trash seemed like a helpful way to keep yourself occupied while he mentally prepared for next steps. After a while, he joined you in the kitchen. He hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder as you dried the last of the plates.

"Thank you for dropping everything for me."

You leaned your ahead away from his slightly so you could turn your neck to look at him. "It was an easy decision. You needed me. I am here."

"Dad likes...liked...you a lot, you know." You turned your body all the way around to look at Timothée, though you struggled to hide your tears. "And he was absolutely besotted with Madison. Thank you for all the times you brought her over here for dinner. He enjoyed spending time with both of you. I think...I think he even thought of her as a grandchild by the end." You gave him a warm half-smile and nodded in agreement. "Can we go see her now? It's Tuesday."

You looked at your watch. "She should be home now." You walked with Timothée to his house so he could grab some clothes. He usually wanted to take his truck when the two of you went anywhere, but he relented to letting you drive your car this time.

As expected, your mother was already back from the school. She met the two of you on the porch and embraced Timothée. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. [L/N]." He heard the screen door shut and looked up to see Madison standing by the porch swing, rubbing one arm with the opposite hand nervously. His face softened as he knelt down and held a hand out to her. Madison stepped forward and took it into her own.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm sorry that we can't go out like normal tonight."

"It's okay," the girl practically whispered. "Nana told me what happened." Her face crumpled as she started to cry. You stepped forward instinctually to comfort your daughter, but instead, she threw her arms around Timothée's neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her in return. He looked up at you with fat tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he was overcome by a mix of emotions.

You placed a hand over your mouth to hold back your own surge of sobs at the display between your two loves. Your mother stepped to your side and draped her arm around your shoulders. Madison had not yet had to face the pain of losing a grandparent, and while he wasn't one by blood, she had grown close to Mr. Chalamet. This was a hurt you could not shield her from.

Madison pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I got your shoulder wet."

Timothée's lip trembled. "Never apologize for tears, okay?" He cupped her small cheek in his hand and wiped a fresh tear away with his thumb. He pulled her in for another hug, this time for his own comfort.

<><><><><>

The funeral was held a few days later. Timothée walked into your living room in his black suit. Under other circumstances, you would have commented on how handsome he looked. Instead, you stood and straightened his tie. He grabbed your hand and pressed it against his chest.

"Please sit with me when we get there," he said softly. "Both of you."

You nodded. "I will, but I will give Madison a choice. This is the first funeral she has ever attended. Let me go talk to her."

You found her sitting outside on the porch swing in her black dress. "Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay?" you asked as you sat beside her. She just nodded. "Timothée asked us to sit with him at the funeral. He is going to sit on the front row, which is usually where immediate family sits. I want to give you a choice. There are going to be a lot of big emotions in the room."

"I want to be with Timothée. He needs us," she stated like it was the obvious - and only - option.

You kissed her forehead and pulled her to you. "My sweet girl. So selfless. If at any point you get too overwhelmed, you can go find Nana and Pawpaw. Okay?"

<><><><><>

It was a beautiful celebration of life. The townspeople showed up en masse to pay their respects at both the funeral home and graveside service. Madison was a trooper and stayed by Timothée's side the entire time until everyone else had left the cemetery.

You pulled Madison aside and started toward the truck to give Timothée a moment of privacy before the casket was lowered. She followed you hesitantly but lost her will to comply when she heard him start crying. She spun and ran back to him, gingerly slipping her hand into his as they both faced the casket. He looked down, first at their clasped hands and then at Madison's face.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

Tears spilled out of Timothée's eyes as he smiled. "Thanks, kiddo." He dipped down and picked her up for a hug. She clung to him like a baby koala. He stood like that for a moment, staring at his father's coffin over his almost-daughter's shoulder, silently thanking him for showing him how to be a good dad.

<><><><><>

Chapter 12

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@groovyqueer

Still Here (Chapter 12)

Summary: Timothée spends Christmas with you and your family. A happier chapter than the last two.

C/W: Brief mention of parent's death

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Both you and your mother insisted that Timothée come over and spend the night on Christmas Eve so he would not wake up alone Christmas Day. It had only been three weeks since his father passed, and you knew the holiday was going to be hard for him.

Timothée showed up as you and Madison were making cookies in the kitchen. Long past the days of knocking, he let himself in. "Where are my favorite girls?" he called out in a sing-song voice as he made his way through the house. "Aha! Found you!" he shouted when he popped his head into the doorway, sending Madison into a fit of giggles.

He gave her a side hug and a kiss on the top of her head, then walked around to your side of the island counter. "You, uh, got a little something right...there," he said as he swiped the dot of flour on your nose with his index finger.

"Oh yeah?" You grabbed his face with your flour-coated hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You have something - there," you snickered as you gestured to his entire face. Madison's laughter continued to fill the air.

"And what are you laughing at, missy?" You turned to her. "Seems like you are the only one with no flour on them. I think we should fix that, Timmy."

Timothée grinned ear to ear. "Seems only fair." You each grabbed a handful of flour and playfully stalked toward her. It turned into a messy game of tag as you all chased each other around the kitchen island.

You skidded to a stop when you spotted your mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips, just shaking her head.

"Oh, uh, hey Mom."

"We'll get this cleaned up, Mrs. [Y/N]," Timothée added, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Where's the fun in that?" She quick-stepped to the flour jar to grab a handful herself and dumped it on your head.

Madison gasped, "Nana!"

"What? She was the cleanest of all of you. Figured she needed to be brought down a peg or two." She looked at you and winked.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "By that logic, you're next!" You and your mom stalked each other around the island until until you caught her in a big hug and patted flour all over her back. You both could barely breathe from laughing so hard. The two of you had gotten much closer since you moved back in, and after Timothée lost his dad, you were determined to make the most of the time you had left with your parents.

<><><><><>

After you got yourselves and the kitchen cleaned up, it was time for Madison to get ready for bed. She came prancing out of her room in her footie pajamas to give goodnight hugs to her grandparents. She stopped at Timothée.

"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.

"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be."

The girl smiled. "Good." She hugged him and headed toward her room. You started to follow when she turned back. "Can Timothée come, too?"

You looked at him and shrugged. "If he wants to." You held out your hand to help him up from the couch, knowing he wouldn't turn her down. He was wrapped around her little finger.

The two of you followed Madison to her room and flanked each side of her bed. You tucked her in as Timothée sat on the edge of the bed. She held out her arms for one more hug from each of you, to which you gladly obliged.

"Now, you better go to sleep or Santa won't bring your presents," Timothée said cheekily.

"Silly. Santa's not real," she stated.

He faked a gasp and pulled a horrified face. "He's not?! Hmm, I guess that means I can have the cookies you left out for him."

Her hand shot out from under the covers. "NO! No. Please don't, just in case I'm wrong."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought," he said as he booped her nose. "Good night, kiddo." He leaned down for one more hug, then stepped out of the room. You kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and followed suit.

You spotted Timothée at the end of the hallway where apparently your mother had sneakily hung some mistletoe while the two of you were occupied. He pointed upward and smiled at you. "Join me under the mistletoe?" You sauntered up to him, not expecting him to spin and dip you before kissing you yearningly. "Our first Christmas together. Again."

"Merry Christmas, love," you replied as he stood you upright again and nuzzled his nose against yours.

<><><><><>

The next morning, Timothée sat next to you on the floor by the couch, coffee in hand, taking in the scene as Madison dove into her stocking and the first of her presents. He leaned over and whispered to you, "I never quite understood why my parents got so excited about Christmas morning, even more excited than me, until now. All that joy on her little face. It's addicting." You squeezed his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder.

After a bit, once everyone had opened at least one gift, Timothée brought out a package that he had been hiding behind the couch and set it in front of the girl. "Don't try to pick it up. It's heavy. This one...," he paused to clear his throat, "is from my dad." She looked at him, then you, puzzled. "He was going through some boxes in the shed a couple of months ago and came across something of mine from when I was a boy that he thought you might like to have. He...he asked me to set it aside for Christmas."

Madison gingerly opened the wrapping paper to find a round brown leather bag.

"Go on, unzip it," Timothée encouraged her. She slowly unzipped the bag to reveal a blue bowling ball. "You'll need to grow into it a little, but it's yours if you want it."

Madison's lip wobbled as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "This...this is perfect." She launched herself into Timothée's lap for a hug. When she pulled away, her face lit up as she looked at you. "Mom, help me find my present for Timothée! Please!"

"That's okay, kiddo, it can wait until we get down to it."

"No, it can't. You'll see." You and she dug through the piles of presents until she spotted what she was looking for - a rectangular present haphazardly wrapped in shiny blue paper and three different colored bows on top.

"I wrapped it myself," she said proudly.

Timothée carefully slid his finger under an edge of the paper in an effort not to rip it. Once he opened one side, he gently slid the gift out. It was a picture of him and Madison together at the bowling alley in a frame that she decorated herself. On the back was a short, handwritten note:

Dear Timothée,

I'm glad we found you at the grocery store. Merry Christmas!

Love, Maddy

Timothée wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love it, and I love you, too, kiddo." He pulled her in for a hug and buried his nose in her hair. "So, so much."

<><><><><>

Chapter 13

FYI: I am expecting for Chapter 13 to be the last one.

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

Still Here (Chapter 13)

Series Finale

Summary: The happy ending I promised you! Timothée proposes.

C/W: mention of deadbeat dad

Catch up on previous chapters here.

>>six weeks after Christmas<<

"So I got a call today." Timothée announced at dinner with you, Madison, and your parents. "One of my investors wants me to open a furniture store in Kentucky. I'm going to go check out a spot next week."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Timothée!" your mother cheered. Your dad shared similar (but calmer) sentiments. You, on the other hand, bounced up and down in your seat and then kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so proud of you!" you said gleefully. Your excitement quickly stalled, though, when you looked over at Madison, who just stared down at her plate. She set down her utensils and pushed herself away from the table. Next thing you knew, you heard the front door slam shut. You looked at Timothée wide-eyed.

"What was that about?" he asked. You shrugged. Her reaction came out of left field. You both stood to go check on her. You expected to find her in her usual spot on the porch swing, but she was nowhere in sight. Your heart rate rose in slight panic as you looked out from the porch and saw nothing but darkness.

"Madison?!" you cupped your hands and yelled as you scanned the yard.

Timothée walked toward his truck and spotted the girl's blonde hair over the top of the seat. He caught your attention with a wave and pointed to the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgment. Unsure what to do with yourself, you sat on the top porch step to stay close just in case you were needed.

Madison was sitting in the passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the front window. She cut her eyes at Timothée and glared as he climbed in on the driver's side.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here," he said softly.

"Go away. That's what you're good at," she snipped.

Timothée recoiled from her words as he reached for the door to shut it behind him. "What? I don't under-"

She turned to him and shouted, "You...you said you loved us! Now you're going away and I won't get to see you anymore," her eyes dropped, "just like I don't see my dad. He doesn't come to visit or ask me to come. He doesn't even call much anymore. You're going to forget me like he did. And hurt my mom."

Timothée's brows furrowed in confusion. "Madison, I'm not-"

"You JUST said you have to go to Kentucky!" she interrupted accusingly. Her breathing hitched and she started bawling. Timothée froze in shock, taking a couple of moments to realize Madison thought he was moving away.

"Oh- oh, kiddo, no no no." He draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I will have a new shop in Kentucky, but I will only have to go there every once in a while."

"Y- you're not leaving?" Madison asked, voice stilted by involuntary gasps. She pulled back to look at him.

Timothée shook his head. "I'm so sorry you thought that's what I meant. I'm not going anywhere, certainly not without you and your mother."

"Oh." She ducked her head in embarrassment.

He pulled her in for a big squeeze again. "I could never forget you, not in a million years. I can't answer why your father acts the way he does. Sounds like he still has some things he needs to work through. But I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You are a beautiful, amazing, kind human being who deserves all the love in the world. Same for your mother."

He felt her nod against his shoulder and reach up with her small hand to wipe her cheek.

"In fact," he paused and looked around. "Can I tell you a secret?" Madison looked up at him and nodded. "I have been wanting to ask your mother to marry me, but I wanted to see how you feel about it first."

She quickly pushed herself upright and placed both hands over her mouth in surprise. "Really?!"

"I know it may seem quick, but I have loved her for practically as long as I can remember. And you, missy," he said through his teeth as he poked her ticklish spot on her side, which induced the desired giggles. "I've had a soft spot for you ever since I met you."

After Madison's laughing died down, she sat silent for a few moments in thought. "Would that make you my dad?" she asked timidly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Well, you already have a father. And I'm not trying to step in and replace him. But," he paused to cup the back of her head with his large hand, "I already love you like you are my daughter. And that won't change even if your mother says no."

She nodded, brows scrunching before her face lit up with a smile. "I- I love you, too. You'd be like...like a bonus dad!" She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The two stayed that way for a bit before Madison broke the silence again.

"She won't say no. When are you going to ask her?"

"I'm not sure, though I should probably do it soon so you don't have to keep it secret for long."

"I can handle it!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself away from him.

Timothée laughed and held his finger up to his mouth. "Shh! I'm sure you can. Got any ideas?"

Madison rested her thumb and index finger on her chin in contemplation. "Actually, I do."

<><><><><><>

You steered the cart through the grocery store, frequently checking your list and grumbling to yourself about prices going up.

"Mom, I'm going to the cereal aisle," you heard Madison announce.

"Okay, I'll meet you over there in just a minute," you called back. You grabbed a couple more items from the baking aisle, then strolled around the corner to find her.

And find her you did, standing next to Timothée. He looked quite handsome in his nice button-down shirt, jeans, and boots. As always, his presence brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, hey! What are you do-" you started to question, but you were cut short when he dropped to one knee. You gasped and covered your mouth.

"The last time I was on this aisle with you," he started, "my heart skipped a beat. I thought I was dreaming. I thought there was no way, after all of these years, that I was seeing my [Y/N], the girl I thought I had lost for good because I wasn't brave enough to follow her when she asked. I know what life is like without you, and I never plan on letting you go again, if you'll have me."

He brought out a handcarved wooden box and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You looked over at Madison, who was beaming up at you. She nodded at you to show her support. With a watery smile, you looked back at Timothée and squeaked out a "yes."

The three of you were oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around you. You startled when they began to cheer. Timothée launched himself up from his position on one knee and captured your face in his hands to kiss you. He then took your left hand in his and slid the ring onto your finger.

"I knew she'd say yes!" Madison cheered.

You pulled her to your side for a hug. "You were in on this?" you asked tearily.

"Yep!" She looked up at Timothée. "Told you I could keep a secret!"

"I didn't doubt you for a second, kiddo." He looked back at you and squeezed your hand. "Ready to tackle forever?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list:

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@groovyqueer

::sigh:: maybe one day

Still Here (+2)

Summary: 100% tooth-rotting fluff. Madison sees fireflies for the first time when Timothée takes the two of you to the lake again.

A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes." Catch up on the main storyline here.

<><><><><>

"What was that?" Madison squeaked, pointing toward the woods.

"What was what?" Timothée asked. He stood and looked around protectively, but didn't see anything different or out of sorts. The three of you had been at the lake for hours, and dusk was creeping up on you.

"There it is again! A little flash of light!" Madison shouted.

You saw Timothée's shoulders relax. "Those are fireflies," you replied.

"Fireflies?"

"Some people call them lightning bugs," Timothée added. "Let's see if we can catch one."

"Won't it burn you?" Madison asked, skeptical of his proposal.

Timothée chuckled. "No, kiddo. But they do taste nasty, so don't try to eat one!"

She twisted her mouth to make a sour face. "Have YOU eaten one?" she asked incredulously.

That earned a fully belly laugh from both of you. "No," he replied, "but I read that frogs will spit them right back out if they eat one. They produce a chemical that makes them taste bitter."

"Oh, there's one!" you shouted.

Timothée slowly stalked the tiny bug before suddenly reaching out and clasping his hands together. "I got it! Want to come see?" he asked Madison.

The girl was not a huge fan of bugs, but her curiosity outweighed her normal disgust. She walked over to Timothée, who was now crouched and sitting on his feet. He parted his thumbs to make a small hole.

"Look in here," he said. Not even a second later, the bug flashed, and Madison gasped in wonder.

"Can I catch one?" she turned to ask you.

"Have at it. Just make sure you cup your hands so you don't squish it," you replied. She ran after the next one she spotted. Timothée stood, let his firefly go, and walked to the boat to rummage through the storage bin under his seat. He came back with a glass jar and proceeded to poke holes in the lid with his pocket knife.

"Timothée, I got one! I got one!" Madison shrieked.

"Good job, kiddo! Bring it over here."

"It tickles!" she said through a laugh.

"Here, let's see if we can get it in the jar. You drop it in, and I'll close the lid real quick." The cycle continued until they had 4-5 fireflies contained. "Go show your mom."

"Look, Mom!" Madison ran over to show you the jar up close, with Timothée following shortly behind.

"These are so pretty," you said in awe. "It's been a long time since I've seen fireflies. Timothée and I used to come out to the lake and sit on the tailgate to watch them float around.

"Well, we did more than-"

You cleared your throat and darted your eyes at your daughter.

Timothée blushed. "I mean, we did that many times," he corrected himself. He winked and snuck a kiss when Madison turned away.

<><><><><>

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Tag List:

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@groovy-lady

An extra scnce idea for still here

Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺

I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.

Still Here (+3)

Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.

A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.

The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.

"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.

"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"

"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."

After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.

"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.

"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.

"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.

"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."

"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."

"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.

"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."

You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.

You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.

Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:

"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"

"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."

"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."

About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.

"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."

"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"

"I thought she likes grapes?"

"She does, just not grape medicine."

"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"

"Bubblegum."

"Got it. Need anything else?"

"Nope, I think I have everything else."

"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."

You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."

He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."

"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"

"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."

I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.

He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"

You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"

She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.

Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."

You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.

Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."

He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"

"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.

"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.

"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"

As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.

You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.

"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."

You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.

"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."

"Which one did y'all settle on?"

"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."

"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.

"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.

"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."

His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"

"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.

"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.

You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"

At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.

She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."

Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."

After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.

You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.

"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.

"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."

"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.

"Are *you* feeling alright?"

"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"

Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."

You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.

Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.

"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.

"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.

"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."

Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.

"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."

You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"

"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."

You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."

"In sickness and in health, right?"

You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."

"Just a formality, babe."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

As a single mom, this one really resonated with me. I projected my own desires of a potential partner while writing - someone who helps pick up some of the mental load without being asked. It's hella sexy, tbh. Lately, I could have really benefitted from having someone like this Timothée variant to "tag in" and not go it alone.

Solidarity to all the single parents out there 🫡

An extra scnce idea for still here

Timothee gets sick and cancels their usual date night or night out with Madison and Y/N and Madison go to his house to find out why and then they take care of him 🥺

I have tried for months to draft this true to what was requested, but I was facing a mental block until I switched it to Madison being ill - then it just took off from there. Hope you still enjoy all the same.

Still Here (+3)

Summary: Timothée goes into dad mode when Madison is sick. Takes place after his dad has passed, so he doesn't have to worry about taking germs home. Post-engagement.

A/N: There are scenes I had in mind for my Still Here series that just didn't quite fit cleanly into any of the chapters, so I decided to add some "deleted scenes" for my loyal fans. Catch up on the main storyline here.

The sound of the phone vibrating against the wooden top of your computer desk interrupted your train of thought as you knocked out a grant application for the library. You looked down to see the dreaded words "School Nurse" displayed on the illuminated screen.

"Hello?" you answered tentatively, already standing to grab your keys and purse. These calls were never good, especially midday.

"Hi, is this Madison's mom?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is Bethany, the school nurse. Madison came to my office because she isn't feeling well. She has a cough, stuffy nose, and a headache. She's also running a fever. Are you able to come pick her up?"

"Poor girl. I'm leaving work now. I should be there in about 15 minutes."

After ending the call and giving the library director a heads up, you called Timothée while on your quick jaunt to the car.

"Hey, baby. What's up?" You rarely called to just say hello in the middle of the work day, so of course, he immediately asked what was going on.

"Hey, just got a call from the school nurse. Maddy is sick, so I am heading to the school to pick her up." You got into the car and shut the door behind you.

"Is she okay?" His voice surrounded you, concern evident, as the audio transferred to the car speakers.

"Sounds like standard viral stuff for this time of year. She should be fine with some medicine and rest. But she won't be able to go out with you tonight. Poor thing. She's going to be so disappointed to miss Timothée Tuesday." Despite the stress, a fond smile graced your lips at the name Maddy had lovingly coined for their regular "date" nights.

"Aww. Well, maybe I can still bring her a treat, if that's okay with you."

"That's so sweet, but you'll run the risk of getting sick, too."

"No more than you. It takes a village, remember? Let your village step in and help. Especially while your parents are out of town," Timothée chided.

"Yes, I know. You are right," you replied with feigned attitude. "Hey, I just pulled up to the school, so I need to let you go. Let me know when you are heading over."

You barely parked the car before jumping out and running to the main door, pressing the buzzer and shifting your weight impatiently from one foot to another as you waited to be let inside. When you walked in, you spotted Madison slumped in an armchair through the rectangular window of the nurse's door. The girl livened up a little when she looked up at the sound of your voice.

You held out your arms to her invitingly once you signed her out, gingerly feeling her forehead with your cheek as you embraced her. The nurse informed you that she needed to be fever-free for at least 24 hours before returning. You draped your arm around Maddy's shoulders as you both turned to walk out the door. "Welp, looks like you and I get to play hooky tomorrow," you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Madison just wordlessly nodded.

Once you arrived at your parents' house, she voluntarily went straight to bed after downing medicine and a glass of water. Your phone buzzed in your pocket shortly after with a text notification:

"Leaving Hartley now. Need me to pick up anything? How is she?"

"She went straight to bed, if that tells you anything. Can you pick up some liquid child cold medicine? I gave her the last dose of daytime medicine I have on hand."

"On it. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"No rush. She can't have another dose for at least 4 hours anyway. Thanks, love."

About 30 minutes later, Timothée sent you a picture.

"Is this the right stuff? I didn't know there were so many options."

"Right stuff, but do they have any other flavor?"

"I thought she likes grapes?"

"She does, just not grape medicine."

"Ah, ok. Bubblegum or berry?"

"Bubblegum."

"Got it. Need anything else?"

"Nope, I think I have everything else."

"K. I should be there in about 20 minutes."

You replied with a heart emoji and got to work on washing the dishes and picking up around the house as an outlet for your nervous energy. Timothée let himself in and set down the bags on the kitchen island. You rewarded him with a sweet peck on the cheek. "Thank you for your help."

He smiled softly then started unloading the bags. "Here's the medicine, and I also got your favorite candy bar because I figured you would be a little stressed."

"You know me so well." You kissed him on the cheek again, never tiring of the slight dust of pink blush that always appeared without fail. "What's in the brown bag?"

"Oh, I called ahead to the diner and they made a fresh batch of Maddy's favorite ooey gooey rice krispie treats just for her. Timed it just right so they were ready after I stopped at the pharmacy across the street. Mandy said to give you her best and that she hopes Maddy feels better soon."

I can't believe this guy is mine, you thought to yourself. "You are so good to her. To us," you praised.

He shrugged and blushed once more. "I love you both. Of course I'm going to take care of my girls. She still asleep?"

You were about to respond when out of the corner of your eye you spotted Madison slowly shuffle into the kitchen, mechanically grabbing for a glass for water. Timothée turned when you nodded toward her direction.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"

She grumbled incoherently and held her arms out to him like a walking zombie, resting her face against his torso when she reached him. One more growth spurt and she'd likely be up to his shoulders soon.

Timothée wrapped his arms around her to complete the hug. "I swung by the diner and picked up rice krispie treats. Figured I'd bring date night to you."

You heard a muffled "thank you" as she spoke into his shirt. She looked over at the bag. "I- I think I'll have one later." He clasped the back of her head gently with his large hand and looked up at you in shock. He had never seen her like this before, unwell to the point of refusing her favorite snack.

Tilting her head back to look up at Timothée, she whined, "I'm sorry that we can't go out."

He responded with a gentle boop to her nose. "Hey, none of that. I had a long day, too, so chilling on the couch to watch a movie sounds amazing. What do you say?"

"Can we watch Spider-man?" she asked with a weak smile, perking up at the idea.

"Sure! I mean, uh, if it's okay with your mom. It is PG-13." They both looked over to you with puppy eyes. You weren't as big of a fan of comic-based movies as they were.

"Oh, alright. Why don't y'all go get it started while I get supper going?"

As they walked off, you heard him question, "Alright, so which universe should we start with? Tom Holland, Tobey Mag-" until their voices faded into living room.

You set to work retrieving all the necessary ingredients for the casserole you had planned for tomorrow since you expected them to be out that evening. Once it was in the oven, you strolled into the living room to check on them. Maddy had fallen asleep again, this time with her head on Timothée's shoulder.

"She sat still too long," he whispered after pausing the movie. "She didn't even make it past the opening scene."

You pouted your lip slightly as you took in just how comfortable Madison looked with her self-proclaimed "bonus dad." Her bio dad was never this good or patient with her when she wasn't feeling well. But you knew Timothée would sit in that position all night if that is what she needed. You stepped toward them to help him from his confines, but he waved you off.

"Let her sleep until dinner is ready. I'm fine." A shit-eating grin then flashed across his face. "You know, you could join me and watch your favorite neighborhood Spider-man."

"Which one did y'all settle on?"

"Tobey. I figured we should start at the beginning."

"At the peak, you mean?" you replied with a smirk.

"Wha- oh, so you DO like Spider-man; you're just a purist," he countered.

"I'm just saying I've never had a crush on Andrew or Tom like I did on Tobey."

His jaw dropped. "That movie came out while we were in high school. How did I not know about this?"

"A woman has a right to her secrets. Besides, I wasn't going to ogle my celebrity crush in front of my boyfriend!" you teased.

"Your fiancé now." He smiled cheesily.

You leaned down for a quick kiss and nuzzle to the nose. "Yes, my now fiancé. Ah, saved by the bell!"

At the behest of the oven timer, you quickly returned to the kitchen. You set the table and dished out the first serving. Timothée nudged Madison awake and walked behind as she shuffled to the table.

She slumped lethargically into her chair and slowly began to eat - more like poking her food around versus actual eating. When you gave her a pointed look, she responded, "I'm just not hungry. I can't taste it."

Pity washed over your face and Timothée's. "Alright, take three more bites so you have at least some nourishment. You'll need energy to get better. I can give you more medicine in about an hour, then you can go to bed."

After dinner, Timothée and Madison continued the movie while you cleaned up the dishes. You could tell the earlier dose of medicine was wearing off. She shifted frequently, trying to get comfortable, and let out the occasional whimper as the fever returned.

You dosed Madison with nighttime cold medicine about 30 minutes before the end of the movie, but she fell asleep again with 10 minutes left. Timothée chuckled and deftly picked the girl up from the couch and carried her to her bed.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" he whispered to you as he shut the door and stepped back into the hallway.

"But you have to...," you started to respond, but the look of disapproval on his face shut you up.

"You know I own my own business, so if you are going to say, 'But you have to work tomorrow,' that's not a good reason. So I'll ask again. Do you want me to stay tonight? Yes or no."

"Yes," you replied with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, but pulled back with his face scrunched with concern.

"Are *you* feeling alright?"

"Me? I- I feel a little run down and a bit stressed, but otherwise, I'm okay. Why?"

Timothée looked at you skeptically. "You just feel a little warm to the touch. Come on, let's get you to bed, too."

You changed into pajamas and got settled in bed. Timothée followed suit after turning off the lights. Nestled into comfort of his arms, you quickly succumbed to your exhaustion.

Hours later, you were ripped awake by a gnarly cough that wasn't from you. Heart racing, you sat up to see Timothée sitting on the edge of the bed, softly illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand. Next to him stood your daughter, blonde hair pasted to her forehead with sweat.

"Is it alright if I give her more medicine?" he asked. You nodded after confirming enough time had passed, and Timothée stood to lead Madison to the kitchen.

"I can do it," you muttered sleepily, grasping at the blanket to toss it to the side.

"I've got it. And I'm going to grab you some medicine and a thermometer, too, once she's settled. You're like a furnace."

Too tired to argue, you snuggled back down under the covers. You knew Madison was in good hands and fell back to sleep before he returned. When you next woke again, you spotted a glass of water and some cold medicine tablets on your nightstand. Timothée sat next to you, resting against the headboard while reading a book from your shelf.

"Since you have that forehead thermometer, I took your temp while you were asleep. You are officially sick, too."

You groaned. "Fantastic," you retorted sarcastically. "Is Maddy still asleep?"

"I haven't heard her stir yet. Once she's up, I'll make y'all some breakfast."

You smiled. "Thank you for staying to help."

"In sickness and in health, right?"

You chuckled. "We aren't married yet, silly."

"Just a formality, babe."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag list: @croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovyqueer @pmak2002