#I hope he’ll start too 🥰 fingers crossed!

[leonsliga]

best news!! manu has been cleared by the doctors to play on saturday (but he gets to decide by himself if he wants to) I hope he'll start 🥰

Official medical clearance? LET'S GO BITCHESSSSS

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hiiii miss me? sorry about the lack of posting but june was a batshit crazy month for me and i’ve been dealing with a bit of writer’s block. i hate this title but 🤷🏼‍♀️ @making-it-big had prompted a fic where andrei was facetiming the kids while he’s away and this is what came of that idea! hope you guys enjoy 🥰

word count: 3k

tw: none! this is just some soft family cuteness

summary: while he’s on the road, andrei never misses a facetime call with you and the kids

The one thing you never forget though, is the nightly FaceTime with Andrei when he’s on the road. Every single road game is different when it comes to the call - sometimes they’re late at night and shorter, other times he’ll have time to talk for a while before they leave for the airport. It doesn’t matter where Andrei is, he FaceTimes you and the kids every day.

Tonight, the team’s in Columbus, after flying in from Detroit earlier in the afternoon. They have the night off before their game tomorrow. You only know the schedule because you have it all written out meticulously on the giant calendar in the kitchen. You had made fun of the calendar when some of the other older and more experienced WAGs had told you about it, but now it’s your saving grace. Otherwise you’d have basically no idea where in North America your husband is unless he’s next to you.

The kids are buzzing, excited to talk to Andrei and update him on the past few days. Evie and Alina jostle for their favored positions on the couch, eventually deciding that Alina gets to be wedged against the arm and Evie gets the other 2/3 of the couch cushion. You’re not sure how that ended up being the deal, but you’re not about to get involved in the careful negotiations between sisters. Kira, the ever unbothered middle child, wanders in and out of the den, various toys and snacks coming and going with her. “Hey,” you call out to her, stopping the five-year-old in her tracks. She looks up at you with wide eyes. “That’s the last Oreo,” you point at her, raising an eyebrow and crossing your index finger over your heart, your code with the kids that you’re serious and that they better promise to listen.

Kira blinks innocently at you and chirps, “yes, mommy!” in a tone that has you getting up from your squatted position at the coffee table and moving into the kitchen to take the family-sized pack of Oreos from a lower cabinet and moving it to a cabinet above the fridge. Kira pouts at you, clutching her remaining snacks in her hands.

“Remember when your tummy hurt because you ate too much cake at D’s birthday party and you puked on Daddy’s lap?” You ask, adjusting Maks in the carrier attached to your chest. The three-month-old yawns and presses his cheek to your chest, little eyelids fluttering shut.

“Oh,” Kira pulls a face, looking just like Andrei, “I didn’t like that. Puking was gross.”

You point at her, grinning, “too many Oreos before bed will make your tummy hurt and you might puke again.”

She looks scared, her eyes opening wide, and you almost feel bad for her. But then she looks down at the two Oreos clutched in her hands and shoves them both in her mouth, spewing crumbs as she shouts, “I don’t wanna puke, Mommy!” while running back into the den and around the dining room table.

“Your sister is such a little weirdo,” you murmur affectionately to Maks. The baby burrows his face close to your chest and you check the time over the stove - 6:43 - which means he’ll be up for a feed soon enough. Hopefully he’ll be awake while Andrei’s still on the call. Turning back to the den, you start to say, “girls, let’s give Daddy —“ stopping short when none of your children are in sight. Evie and Alina are gone from the couch and Kira isn’t in the room, although you can hear her singing to herself from behind a few walls. If you had to guess, she’s doing princess twirls in front of the full length mirror in the foyer.

You shake your head and mutter, “where the hell did they all go?”

Dimitri toddles into the room, blocks clutched in his chubby little baby hands. “Mama!” He shouts, holding the blocks up. “Yook!” You grin at his little speech impediment - he can’t say his Ls yet and they all sound like Ys. “Bocks”

“That’s right, buddy, blocks! Were you building something?” You take the blocks he offers you, holding the pair of them in one hand and taking his hand in your free one, leading him over to the couch so you can hopefully get this FaceTime call started.

“Bi’ding for mama,” he says proudly and you press a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo.

“Mama loves your building, but how about we call Papa?” You pitch your voice higher, infusing excessive excitement into your tone. Dimitri giggles and claps his hands.

“Papa! Papa!” He chants and while he’s distracted you reach over and tap at the screen of the iPad, swiping Andrei’s contact information and bringing up the FaceTime screen. Dimitri fidgets on the couch for the entire thirty seconds it takes for Andrei to answer, but once he sees Andrei’s face fill the screen, Dimitri shouts, “Papa!” and his face splits into a huge grin.

Andrei’s face is wearing a matching grin and he shouts back, “Dimka! How’s Papa’s big boy?”

You lean against the back of the couch while Dimitri babbles to Andrei, watching as your husband’s entire face lights up while they chat. Dimitri is Andrei’s little clone, if the baby pictures Elena sends are any indication, and when their faces are side by side like this, you can totally see it. Every so often, Andrei’s gaze slips over to look at you and he smiles, winking. You return the expression, one hand resting over Maks’s back. Dimitri could chatter about anything and everything, using his limited toddler vocabulary, and you shout up the stairs for the girls, still wondering where the older two went. Maks continues to sleep soundly, even after you’ve shouted for them twice - the fifth kid really learns to sleep anywhere and under any conditions.

“Coming!” Evie shouts back and then there she and Alina are, traipsing down the stairs in too long sweaters that you recognize from Andrei’s closet. They’re holding the hems of the sweaters in their hands like they’re princesses wearing ball gowns and it’s adorable. Both girls are tall for their age - the Svechnikov genes at work - but even still the sweaters hang to their ankles when they release the knit.

“What are you two doing?” You ask, pulling Alina back by her shoulder so you can twist her long hair up into a bun on top of her head. The seven-year-old is always wandering around with her hair in her face and you hate it, always worried she’s going to fall down the stairs because she can’t see anything.

Alina struggles under your hands, trying to get away from the bun, but you’re faster than she is and tie it off quickly before she runs off to the den, throwing herself onto the couch and interrupting Dimitri so she can start telling Andrei all about her day.

You turn to Evie and she looks a little shifty, but also extremely pleased with herself while she twists her fingers in the sleeves of Andrei’s sweater. “We just wanted Dad to know, like, because he wears the bracelets me and Al and Kira made for him when he plays in other places so we know that he misses us. We wanted to wear his sweaters when he calls so he knows we miss him,” she explains in a rambling, breathless monologue that has your tearing up with the sweetness of her gesture.

“How did we get so lucky with you?” You murmur, cupping her chin and kissing the top of her head. “Sweet as iced tea.”

She beams, happy with your praise, and runs off to join her brother and sister. You can hear her interrupt Alina’s story, talking over her sister to tell Andrei that she picked the sweaters special because she’s the oldest. Kira appears from somewhere, a juice box in her hand, and you shake your head. The four kids are piled on the couch, all talking over each other and not letting Andrei get a word in edgewise. From your spot behind the couch, you have a full view of his face and the completely adoring expression on his face. He’s smiling and laughing, trying to pay attention to all four of them at once and making it look easy.

Maks fusses against your chest and you look at the time, nearly 7:30, so while the kids are distracted and with Maks still strapped to your chest, you adjust so your breast is out and Maks can eat, wincing a little when he struggles for a second before latching on. The general chaos coming from the couch starts to cool off and one by one, the kids run out of things to say, starting to peel away from the screen. Kira disappears, as is her M.O. as the middle child, and Alina wiggles to the floor to start doing somersaults.

Dimitri is flat on his back on the couch, kicking his feet in the air, dangerously close to Evie’s head while she recounts the play date she had the day before. “And Mom said we get to watch the game tomorrow at Auntie Nykki’s so we get to see Gigi and are you suuuuure we can’t get a dog?” she finishes, deploying giant puppy dog eyes.

“I’m sure,” Andrei laughs, shaking his head. “It’s not fair to Mama, to have to take care of a dog and you crazy little goblins.”

“Buuuut….” Evie winds up to start begging, but you cut in.

“Eve, we talked about this. No puppy until you’re older, now time to say goodnight to Dad and head off to bed,” you ruffle her hair a little, bracing your hand against the back of Maks’s head when you lean forward a bit.

Andrei jumps in before Evie can protest, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay zaychik? Spokoynoy nochi.”

“Spokoynoy nochi,” Evie replies, blowing kisses through the screen. Alina and Kira appear for virtual goodnight kisses too and you hoist Dimitri onto your hip and give Andrei the “one-minute” gesture while you usher the girls upstairs and get their teeth brushed and tucked into bed.

With Dimitri still clinging to you like a koala and Maks fast asleep in a milk coma, you finally return to the den and drop down onto the couch. “Hi,” you grin at Andrei. Dimitri rests his head on your thigh and runs a toy car over the cushion, clearly fading but reluctant to sleep. He’ll be out in a few minutes and you’ll transition him to his bed.

“Hi,” Andrei grins back. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too,” you card your fingers through Dimitri’s fine blond hair. “They were on something different tonight. And just so you know, both girls are sleeping in your sweaters.”

He shifts from sitting on the hotel bed to lying back against the pillows, tucking one hand behind his head and hiding the colourful braided and beaded bracelets that Evie, Alina, and Kira had made him. A soft smile makes his dimple pop. “We got lucky with them,” he says.

“We did,” you adjust Maks in the carrier, pulling aside the fabric covering the back of his head so Andrei can see him a little better. You’re getting warm having sixteen pounds of baby strapped so close to your chest. “How’s Columbus?”

“Boring,” he snorts a laugh. His smile turns a little sly. “What are you wearing?”

You laugh a little, until a new and familiar voice chimes in. “Oh fuck no,” Martin Necas yelps. “You’ve got five fucking kids, don’t tell me that you’re still chatting her up like a twenty-something idiot.”

Marty’s been your husband’s roommate on the road for years now, but you didn’t realize that he’d been around while the kids were talking to Andrei.

On-screen, Andrei smirks, a cocky expression taking over his face, “how do you think we got five kids? The stork?”

A towel flies into view from off-screen, whacking Andrei in the face while he laughs. You giggle at their antics and Neci comes into view, poking his head in front of Andrei’s phone. “Don’t let him talk to you like that, you’ve got all the power. He’s fucking whipped,” he teases, ruffling his hand through damp hair.

“Don’t worry,” you grin. “I’ve got babies attached to my hip and spit up all over my shirt. No chance he finds this attractive.”

Andrei’s expression turns hungry and he scrubs a hand over his bearded chin, the rasp of his fingers over the hair sending a shiver down your spine. “Neci, cover your ears, I want to say something adult to my wife,” Andrei teases. “It’s not for the ears of children.”

“Fuck you,” Marty whips a pillow from his bed at Andrei. It lands with a hollow noise on Andrei’s stomach and he exhales heavily. “One, I’m older than you and two, your literal children are right there. You’re gonna be disgusting in front of them?”

You smother a laugh with your hand. “Dimitri is passed out,” you say, angling the iPad down so they can see the conked out toddler spread out starfish style on the couch, toy car held loosely in one hand. “And Maks is definitely out.” You show them the infant, his little rosebud mouth gaping open and his eyelids twitching as he dreams. “So you’re good to say whatever you want.”

“No, do not encourage him,” Marty groans. “I have to share a room with him.”

Andrei tosses the pillow back, but Marty was expecting it and catches the pillow in mid-air. “You know, I’m the Captain. I don’t have to share a room,” Andrei says.

“You’d miss me too much,” Marty grins, waggling his eyebrows. “If you two are going to be disgusting, I’m leaving.”

“Good, leave,” Andrei deadpans.

You click your tongue, “be nice! What kind of leadership are you displaying?”

“Yeah, listen to your wife,” Marty teases, getting out of bed and shoving his feet into a pair of slides. “I’m telling Roddy that you’re a shitty Captain.”

He shoves at Andrei’s shoulder on his way out, waving to you. The door clicks shut behind him and you shake your head at Andrei, “you two are terrible.”

Andrei waves a hand in the air, grinning. “Neci’s dealt with worse from me on the road. I ever tell you about the food poisoning incident?”

“No,” you wince, “and I don’t want to know.” You yawn and apologize. “Sorry, baby. I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there,” he replies, rubbing at his chin again. He pauses and you’re both quiet for a bit, just soaking up the other’s presence. Dimitri’s hand goes completely slack and he drops the toy car to the floor. You kick it slightly under the coffee table so you don’t step on it later. Andrei coughs a little, “it’s only been a couple days, but it feels like they’re different. Bigger.”

“The only one that really grew this week is this guy,” you pat Maks’s diapered bottom. “Gained another pound from his last checkup.”

Andrei grins. He sits up and pushes his hair off his forehead, leaning closer to the screen. “That’s my boy,” he chuckles. “How big is he now?”

“Sixteen pounds,” you laugh, shifting him against your chest. “He’s in the eightieth percentile for his age, Drei.”

“Big boy,” Andrei replies.

“Takes after his Daddy,” you blow him a kiss, yawning again. “I know it’s not even nine, but I really need to sleep for a bit before tiny Hulk wakes up for his next feeding.”

Andrei nods. “I know, I’m sorry I kept you up. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you tuck Maks back into the carrier so you can bring boy boys upstairs easier. “But you’ll be home in two days and then I’m happily passing off parenting duties to you.”

“I can’t wait, solnyshka,” Andrei says seriously, eyes twinkling at the prospect of being back home. “And once I handle parenting, I have a few things I’d like to do with you.”

You laugh, “those adult things that you kicked Marty out of the room to say?”

Andrei hums and affirmative. “I never even got to say them.” His lower lip pokes out in a pout, a childish expression in direct contrast with his beard and blown pupils.

“I’ll use my imagination,” you assure him. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he puckers his lips at you in a kiss and you tap the screen, ending the call. You skimp back against the couch for a minute, resting, before you get to your feet and lift Dimitri’s toddler dead weight into your arms to bring him up to bed. Once you’ve checked and reassured yourself that all five kids are asleep and tucked in bed, you finally crawl into your own bed and pass out for a bit before getting up to feed Maks. You’re so ready for Andrei to come home.

When he does come home, two days later, he bounds through the front door full of energy, swinging you into a kiss that makes you laugh and swooping the two closest children - Kira and Dimitri - up into his arms. They squeal with excitement that Daddy is home. The older two girls are at school and Andrei insists on being the one to pick them up, buckling Kira and Dimitri into their car seats and taking the fully loaded Navigator to the school.

He has the windows rolled down and the three of them wave at you while he backs down the driveway. Andrei at the wheel of the Navigator with all the children in tow is a much different picture than Andrei behind the wheel of his string of ugly coloured Lamborghinis.

His grin though, that full, missing-toothed, dimpled smile? That grin is the same on your thirty-six year old husband as it was on the twenty-one year old golden retriever of a boy you fell in love with.

[yamigooops]

I posted 1,147 times in 2022

13 posts created (1%)

1,134 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bfbkg

@prettyboykatsuki

@kingkatsuki

@miggiisdumb

@orirocks

I tagged 123 of my posts in 2022

#cel saves - 59 posts

#cel screams - 41 posts

#cel suggests - 27 posts

#cel sobs - 25 posts

#bakugou x reader - 24 posts

#cel speaks - 20 posts

#bakugou katsuki - 14 posts

#cel simps - 10 posts

#soft bakugou - 8 posts

#bakugou smut - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#i kinda wanna replace his fingers with mine on the carb and make him take a fat fucking rip on the bong

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I have yet to put last year’s sticker on anything bc I’m too hesitant and feel like I’ll regret it, so you best BELIEVE these popsicles ain’t goin anywhere yet… it has to be perfect because they deserve nothing left 😌💕

Thank you so much for these @birfart I literally can’t wait to hang them in my new apartment when I get it (mind you I haven’t started looking but I just graduated so it’ll happen soon hopefully lol) The prints will be front and center on my anime wall 🥰🥹✨

15 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

#4

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader Characters: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Reader Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon King Endeavor, Queen Reader, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, War, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor Redemption, Soft Todoroki Enji | Endeavor Summary:

When a chance to end the 100-year-long war sits itself right at your feet in the form of a 7-foot-tall dragon king, you can't help but accept. Little did you know where you'd end up...

Hi lovelies!! So I’m writing my first ever series (though I have another in the works hehe) and I wanted to share it with you all. I’ve decided to post it to Archive Of Our Own instead of Tumblr, but I may cross post it here in the future, depending on how well it does over there. I hope you’ll all consider reading it, because I have big plans for it. Chapter 1 isn’t any nsfw, but that’s coming very soon! 

20 notes - Posted January 3, 2022

#3

Y’all Shinsou really ain’t that nice of a guy in the show, and he’s so driven by the need to prove to both himself and others that he’s not a villain that sometimes I wonder if he really wants to be where he is, or if he just feels obligated to prove that everyone’s expectations that he’ll be a villain are wrong.

It makes me kinda hurt for him bc sometimes he seems unhappy with his journey to becoming a hero, but at the beginning I thought he was just as competitive a person as Bakugou, only super cold instead of explosive. But now, high and on my third rewatch of MHA, I feel like he just feels obligated to prove everyone wrong, whether or not that is what he really wants to do with his life.

Idk, I feel like he’s a really open-for-discussion character when talking about him canonically and I kinda love that about him. If y’all have thoughts about him and his character, lemme know bc I just love this boy so much and truly think he’s severely underrated

is this opening the possibilities for a shinsou hurt/comfort fic? maybe it is maybe it isn’t I guess you’ll have to wait and see huh?

24 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

#2

Hey I know you beta’d for Gnarlypunkassbitch for Our Enigma. I noticed she’s deleted her ao3 account and her Twitter, do you know what happened or if she’s ok?

Omg yes! Ok so she DMed me before deleting and let me know that she’s had some ongoing issues with both her physical and mental health. I’ve known about them for a little while, as that is the reason she hasn’t updated the story since like February I think?

Essentially she had been feeling a tremendous amount of pressure over not having the time, energy, or inspiration to write and/or update the story. Despite readers’ support and reassurance for her to take her time and prioritize her wellbeing, as writers online we can often get caught up in the trap of thinking that just because we have a story that might be successful, which I would absolutely consider OE successful with tens of thousands of reads, we have to update on a constant schedule or our readers are going to get mad.

I know when she first started it she updated regularly, but from what I know it was supposed to end a while ago but she kept extending it bc readers wanted more. She eventually had to prioritize her well-being over the story, since she lost inspiration. And while this happened a few weeks ago, she still felt the pressure from AO3 and Twitter, so she decided that a full cleanse would be best for her.

However, we are still in contact, so she hasn’t completely vanished. I’ve emailed her in response to the DMs she sent me before leaving Twitter, and expressed my support for her to take care of herself first. She did say in the DMs that she may come back and repost the story in the future after she’s worked on herself, but that’s completely up to her. I do still have the beta read documents, and she still has the originals, so the story still exists, just not publicly right now. I was also talking with her about releasing a podfic of the story, though I hadn’t planned to even start recording it until October.

As of right now, she hasn’t responded. I emailed her on April 6th when she left, so it hasn’t been super long since then. But I expressed that she didn’t have to respond or anything if she needed a full cleanse from everything. Though I did express that I was sending her good vibes and thoughts, as well as my willingness to act as a channel for her to communicate with all the fans of OE in order to update you all on her state, as well as share your support and love for her.

I just feel so incredibly privileged to have been a part of this story, even if the work I did never got shared publicly. Because I got to become friends with a generous, kind-hearted, marvelously talented woman, while also sharpening my editing skills at the same time. Like I literally kept a cry count throughout this fuckin fic and the first read through I cried 15 times, and by the end of the beta it was up to 27. If a writer is able to make you cry even when you know what’s coming next? That’s true mastery in my opinion. So like wow. I just…. I’ll never shut up about this fic y’all. Never ever. I wish I could share the beta docs so y’all could still read it, but that would be a breach of her trust since she took it down publicly and hasn’t responded to my message yet. So I unfortunately won’t be doing that.

I’m also honored that people have come to me to ask after her. Like wowza. I’ve had numerous people do so, and I just can’t get over it. The love that has already been shown just in the past 6 days is astonishing. She impacted so many in such a profound way, and I am more than happy to act as a bridge to you all now. Though I will say that if you’d like to send her love and/or we’ll wishes that I won’t be contacting her again until she responds to me. Because we all need to respect her journey to healing, and if that means never hearing from her again, I hope you’re all willing to accept that and still wish her well.

So really all we can do now is sit together in our love for her and the story, send her positive energy in her road toward healing, and cross our fingers that she will one day bring this masterpiece back to life. But the decision is completely up to her, and I hope you’ll all support her just as much as I do. Keep an eye out for her possible return, maybe check like once every month or two. I will also make an announcement if she does return, so let’s do what we can right now to get her those good, healing vibes 🥰🥲

Below are my true feelings regarding the (hopefully temporary) loss of this absolutely incredible writer and friend:

See the full post

64 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

good luck charm

synopsis: when you decide to get a little cheeky and put on a cute cowboy’s hat you get a lot more than you bargained for

warnings: strangers to lovers, slight size kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Katsuki’s a playful bastard (if there are any I’m missing let me know lmao)

length: 9.7k

inspired by an ask submitted to @kingkatsuki by @thecowboykatsuki-anon and featuring art based on the same idea by @jozstanko-art​ we’re all just whipped by this fucker and want to put his hat on and have him fuck us silly

Rodeos weren’t particularly your thing, considering you had grown up in the suburbs your entire life. College had introduced you to people who had grown up with lifestyles contrary to your own, including your best friend Mina, who had grown up in a small rural town. Where she had grown up everyone knew each other, and things like farms and town fairs and rodeos were commonplace among the population.

So, when she invited you to one of said rodeos after your junior year had ended you were intrigued enough to oblige. She had told you about them for the past three years, and you were somewhat curious after all the hype she had placed on them. So about two weeks after the semester ended you found yourself in her hometown. It was a small town, with a main street that consisted of about three blocks of bars and independent shops that provided everything from boutiques to ice cream parlors.

As the day approached dusk on your summer vacation you found yourself at the main fairgrounds for the (apparently monthly) rodeo and trying not to entirely mentally check out. You genuinely had no idea what was going on, despite the fact that Mina had spent the hour and a half drive from your university apartment to her childhood home explaining everything that happened at a rodeo. All you could grasp was that there were three events and which ones her friends competed in. One competed in two, while another competed in the other.

The third friend competed in all three events and was recognized area-wide as exemplary in all of them, and by the way Mina described this man he was incredibly attractive. So, you spent your free time on the drive imagining how this man looked. You only knew he had blonde, spiky hair, red eyes, and a near permanent scowl. However, considering he participated in all three of these events you had to assume he was in peak physical condition. Something about Mina’s description of him made your stomach flutter.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the arena you realized just how popular this event was. It seemed as though every person in town was here, and the parking had spilled over from the actual lot onto the field surrounding it. Once you had parked in the closest possible spot, you and Mina made your way over to the competitors’ area.

Since she knew so many of the participants the two of you were permitted past the gate reading “Competitors and staff only.” She led you through a light crowd of men and women, many of whom were decked out in full cowboy regalia. There was also the occasional horse, bull, or steer being led to their pens to await their turn on the arena floor.

Coming to a pair of young men, Mina bounced on the balls of her feet and tapped a red-haired man on the shoulder. He turned around questioningly before lighting up at the sight of your best friend.

“Well look who finally made it,” boomed the man. He towered over you, absolutely built but attractive in a big puppy kind of way. His smile was infectious, and as he pulled Mina into a bear hug, you found yourself smiling as well.

“Eiji, I missed you so much!” Mina practically jumped onto her friend, her arms clinging around his neck. So, this must have been Kirishima. Now that you heard his name you could recall several stories Mina had shared with you about the red-haired giant. She had also shared with you, in confidence of course, that she’d had the biggest crush on him since middle school, but never worked up the courage to ask him out.

“Missed you too,” he murmured, his face buried in her neck. If you didn’t know any better, it would have looked like the two were already dating. The thought had you chuckling, as it was quite obvious that Kirishima felt the same way about Mina. You supposed it was probably easier to see as an outsider.

“God, get a room, will ya?” came a gruff voice from behind the pair. You shifted your attention from the closeted lovers before you to the man standing just behind them. Sure enough, based on Mina’s description of him, you assumed it was Bakugou Katsuki. Only he was so much more attractive than you had expected. His garnet eyes were piercing as they moved from Kirishima and Mina over to rest on you, and you found yourself blushing and looking away under his intense gaze. “And who are you?”

“Oh, guys this is my best friend and roommate Y/N,” Mina supplied, releasing Kirishima from the chokehold she had him in and moving back to your side to prompt you forward. “She finally agreed to come see you guys compete!”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Thank you so much, and it’s nice to meet ya,” grinned Kirishima as he held out his hand to shake yours. He was the picture of gentlemanly perfection, and you found yourself instantly drawn toward him.

“Absolutely, I figured I should come see what all the hype is after this one talked it up so much for three years,” you chuckled and gestured toward your pink-haired friend. “She talks about you guys all the time.”

“Better be good things,” grumbled Bakugou, crossing his arms over his chest. The action had his black, green and red plaid shirt pulling tight over his biceps and chest, drawing your attention to the rest of his physique. His thighs were massive, though you supposed that was from years of training to ride bucking animals. His leather chaps had imagery of explosions down the sides, and flared out at the ends along with his dark jeans to accommodate his leather cowboy boots. Atop his head sat a well-loved black cowboy hat, beneath which his spikes of ash blonde hair peeked.

“Oh, only the best. I hear that you guys are some of the best riders around,” you nodded. His slight scowl didn’t budge, and in that moment, you decided you’d make it your goal to get him to smile by the end of the night.

“Aww, thank you Mina,” Kirishima crooned, throwing his arm around the smaller girl.

“Of course, I’d say good things, ya doofus. You guys are my best friends.” Mina’s cheeks were darkening from the proximity to the “love of her life,” as she had put it so many times. 

You chuckled, watching as the childhood friends caught up with one another. There were two more that joined, named Sero and Denki, and as the conversation continued and the crowd shifted, you found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Bakugou after a while. You chimed in every once in a while, but mainly let Mina catch up with her friends. Bakugou seemed to have a similar approach to the conversation, watching as Mina and Kirishima cluelessly flirted and teased one another. 

“Are they always this oblivious?” You kept your words quiet as you directed them toward the blonde beside you.

“Those two have been doing this shit for years,” he sighed. “We keep tryin’ to get em together, tell them that they’re into each other, but they’re about as dense as two blocks of concrete.”

You snorted, “Must be exhausting having to watch that for so many years.”

“You ain’t got a clue.” He let out a puff of air through his nose, and when you peeked up at him through your lashes, you realized it was a chuckle. There was a shadow of a smile on his lips, and you felt your chest glow with pride at having gotten even that out of the stoic man.

“You should smile more,” you said teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his, though it was admittedly more against his bicep than anything.

“That a command, little missy?” He turned those burning eyes on you once again, and you felt something tighten deep within you. Feeling a surge of confidence roll through you as you captured his attention, you reached up and plucked his hat off his head before plopping it down on your own. It was warm and smelled like his shampoo, something deep and spicy. His lips slowly slid into a sly grin as you tilted your head back slightly more than before to be able to see him under the brim of it.

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2,759 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

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[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want to | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! In a shocking twist of events, I've written yet another Taylor Swift inspired fic (please pretend to be shocked)

Throw me a reblog if you like what you read 🥰

Warnings: blood, woozy Bucky, anxiety

Throbbing bass pounded inside the bar, sending deep vibrations through your chest. But no matter how much you loved the song blaring from the speakers, you refused to make your way to the dance floor. He had to be on his way, right? He said he’d be here. Your fingers tapped to the beat of the music as anxiety and heartbreak fought for your attention. They pulled you in two opposite directions, each making you miserable in their own special way. You’d waited so long for this night- but now that it was here, you regretted the whole thing.

The flashing lights and raucous partygoers should’ve had you pounding drinks and dancing all night, but you couldn’t leave your spot by the window- just in case. Nothing but unfamiliar cars and a handful of passersby crossed your field of vision, but your hope refused to die out. Every pair of headlights had you praying to see a certain black Audi careening around the corner. Surely, he’d never stand you up- right? 

Rarely did you let yourself get so invested in things like this- it felt too silly, too childish. Bucky, however, insisted. It was just like Bucky to get immediately invested in anything you wanted to do, no matter how unnecessary you deemed it. He stoked the flames of your excitement with his own vigor, promising you’d look back on this night with only happy memories. 

He wanted more than anything to see you give yourself something special for once- you deserved it more than anyone. Bucky needed you to care for yourself the way you cared for him. You never failed to make him feel loved, like he was the only person on earth. But he often found you treating yourself as a second- or even third- thought.  

His support for your birthday bash never wavered. But as you kept eyes on the dark, empty street outside the bar, you sensed that support slipping away. 

“Heyyyyy! What are you doin’ over here alllllll by yourself?” your friend Marissa slurred, “come onnnn, it’s party tiiiiiime!” She’d clearly indulged in a few margaritas, the smell of tequila wafting off her breath. This was what you’d wanted for tonight, to get a little crazy with the people you loved- but you didn’t have it in you to match her energy. 

A fake smile stretched across your face, sending a deep ache into your cheeks. “I’m just waiting for Bucky,” you shouted over the music, “he’ll be here soon!” The words chiseled tiny cracks into your resolve. The party had been in full swing for quite some time with zero sign of your super soldier. Your calls went to voicemail and your texts remained unanswered, but it was too humiliating to admit. 

8:50pm: Hey Buckaroo, I just got to the bar. People are gonna start getting here in about ten minutes. Let me know when you’re headed over 🤗

9:39pm: My friend Kara wants to meet you! She says you’re her favorite superhero🦾 What time should I expect ya?

10:14pm: What’s your ETA, babe? I’ll make sure there’s a drink ready when you get here 😘

10:31pm: Can you call me back when you have a sec? 

Never in your life did you think you’d be the person throwing themselves a birthday party as an adult. It seemed immature, maybe even a little embarrassing. But the second you mentioned the idea to Bucky, he immediately jumped on the bandwagon. Every time you second guessed yourself or had even an inkling to cancel the whole event, he talked you down. Your birthday was definitely something he wanted to celebrate. Nearly every day, he’d had some new idea or thought about your party- some grand way to commemorate your latest trip around the sun. 

And yet, Bucky was late. Almost two hours late. The embarrassment of it all was enough to make you nauseous. You’d told everyone about your incredible boyfriend, the love of your life- and he hadn’t even bothered to call. His absence stirred a deep shame within your soul- how could your own boyfriend not make it to your birthday party? 

As you sat perched near the window waiting for his arrival, you could’ve sworn all eyes were on you. It seemed as though a spotlight beamed down on you, exposing you in your most vulnerable moment. The stares, the pitied looks flew your way from every friend, coworker, and loose acquaintance in attendance. The whispered comments and beginnings of gossip reverberated inside your skull, blocking out the music completely. 

This had to be a prank, right? Surely, it was a set-up. Bucky was going to burst through the door with a confident, “Baby, I’m right here! Got ya!” before scooping you up and presenting you with some dramatic romantic gesture- right? 

Wrong.

“Come onnnnn! Come dance with me!” Marissa resurfaced from the dance floor, giving your hand a tug. “I told the DJ to play your faaaaavorite song- it’s up next!” 

“Oh, I- I’m good here. I’m gonna keep an eye out for-“

“For Buuuuuucky. We knowwwww,” she shot you an eye roll. “I know he’s a hottttt superhero with a metal arm and allllll that. But he suuuucks! He stood you up! ON YOUR BIRTHDAY!”

With a warning glance, you pulled your hand from her grasp, “We both know today isn’t my birthday!” To be completely fair to Bucky, this was just the party. Your actual special day was six days prior- and he’d missed that, as well.

“But he MISSED your birthday!” Marissa shouted, “he’s an asssssssshole!”

She wasn’t being fair. The relationship you shared with Bucky didn’t fit the typical, cookie cutter mold- and it never would. You knew that the second you fell for him. His job was dangerous. It pulled him in a hundred directions at once, forcing him to leave home for long stretches of time. And you were okay with that. Because no matter how badly it hurt to be without him, the privilege of calling him ‘yours’ outweighed the pain. 

“It’s not like he went out of town for fun. He was literally saving the world- he was stopping the Flag Smashers! He got called away last second.”

It didn’t matter to you if he missed your actual birthday, or even the party- Bucky made you feel special every day. But when he found out he’d be home in time for your party, you knew it would be extra special. 

Admittedly, this party no longer felt special. While everyone danced to the playlist you’d worked on for weeks, you isolated yourself. And even as you resigned to the fact that Bucky had no plans to attend your party, you couldn’t pull yourself from the window. Maybe it was pathetic, maybe it was pitiful- but you couldn’t look away. 

“He got home really late last night,” you told Marissa, “I’m sure he’s exhausted. It’s- it’s fine.” 

He’d stumbled home alarmingly late the night before, and you’d met him at his apartment without hesitation. 

——————

It didn’t matter that you had to be up for work in three hours- Bucky was back, he was home. He’d crawled into your arms and collapsed with a grateful sigh, reveling in the safety of your body against his. The come down from a mission always left him miserable and anxious, but being away from you was a fate worse than death.

“Sorry I woke you, baby…” he mumbled as he teetered on the edge of sleep, “thank you for coming over…I missed you so much. I needed to see you”.  

“I missed you too, Buck. So much.” You ran a gentle hand through his hair, “go to sleep, okay? You need to rest. We can talk tomorrow.” 

But before the sun even rose that morning, you found yourself snaking your body out from under his. In the quiet darkness of his bedroom, you scrawled a quick note for him to find when he woke up, and headed out the door: 

“Had to leave for work and didn’t wanna wake you, Buckaroo. I’m so glad you’re home safe- see you tonight, babe. I love love love you” 

——————

This wasn’t like Bucky. No matter how miserable he was after a mission, he always made you his priority- without question. He put you first. Even if he was on the verge of bleeding out, he’d do anything to make you happy. You were his girl, and he’d rather die than let you down. 

The anxiety you’d been fighting all night dug a foothold in your chest. Every unanswered text and missed call added fuel to the fire of your worry, setting your insides alight. This wasn’t like him. You’d done your best to ignore the dread, but worst-case scenarios had a way of getting to you, especially when it came to Bucky.

With shaking hands, you made one last call to Bucky- with the same result. His voicemail greeted you and asked you to leave a message, but it was pointless. Something was wrong- you were sure of it. 

“HEY! We’re gonna bring out the caaaaake and sing happy birthdaaaaay!” Marissa called, “come on-” 

“But what if there’s something wrong? and that’s why Bucky isn’t here?”  

It was entirely possible- he always seemed to be in some form of danger. Wild scenarios populated your brain, multiplying one on top of another. What if he was hurt? What if a rogue Flag Smasher showed up at his apartment in search of revenge? 

“Something feels off…he wouldn’t just not show up”.

The impending doom you’d tried all night to tame and cage broke free from its restraints, ripping to shreds your last sliver of hope. For your own sanity, you just needed to check on Bucky. And if he was simply deep in a nap that had lasted too long, you’d at least know he was okay. 

You brushed past a table stacked a mile high with brightly wrapped gifts when a hand shot out and grabbed you. “Wait! Where are you going?” your college roommate yelled, “it’s almost time for cake!” 

“Have two pieces for me, okay? I have to go, I have to check on-”

“NOOOO! You’re not gonna check on him!” Out of nowhere, Marissa snatched the purse from your arm. “I’m not letting you leeeeave your own paaaarty! Bucky is the worsssssst!” She did her very best to hold your purse hostage, but her state of inebriation sabotaged that plan. Your purse crashed on the floor, almost landing right on your foot.

Without a word, you strode out of your own birthday party and into the cold night. Nothing could keep you from Bucky. Anxiety vibrated through your body as you drove to his apartment, praying he’d simply forgotten about your big night. It wasn’t ideal to have something so important slip his mind, but you’d much prefer a forgetful Bucky than a dead Bucky. 

And when you finally arrived at his place, you didn’t bother knocking. You thrusted the spare key into the deadbolt and threw open the door, hoping to find a sleeping Bucky wrapped in a cozy blanket burrito. 

A grateful sigh left your chest as your eyes landed on your handsome super soldier. He lay sprawled out on the couch in a deep sleep, completely oblivious to your break-in. But he wasn’t wrapped in a blanket or clad in sweats- he wore a suede brown jacket and an olive green henley, paired with dark jeans and boots. Or, boot. It appeared as though he’d fallen asleep putting on his shoes, surrendering to the exhaustion of his latest mission. 

He'd tried. He’d tried so hard to push through and make it to your party, but his body gave out on him. He had every intention to spend the night dancing and drinking with his best girl, celebrating your beautiful existence. But his body wouldn’t let him. A sudden wave of guilt threatened to topple you completely as you watched Bucky sleep. He always did his very best to be there for you- even on the brink of collapse. He’d wasted so much energy showering and getting dressed that it was too much, and he’d succumbed to fatigue.

But as you tiptoed closer to his sleeping form, a dark spot caught your eye. It tainted the suede material of jacket, blooming through the fabric into a sizable splotch. With careful hands, you swiped at the material- only to find your fingers slick with blood. Frantically, you pulled his jacket back and found a matching bloody patch soaking through his shirt. It was saturated from the inside out, oozing a steady trickle of blood.

“Oh my god, Buck…” 

He barely reacted to your shaking hands and wavering voice as you lifted up his shirt. An ugly, bloody wound with torn stitches stared back at you, dripping with blood. It stretched across his ribcage and dug deep into his side, slicing through his flesh. Blood trickled down his abdomen and stained his jeans. A puddle of carnage lay next to him, growing ever-bigger as the moments passed.

He didn’t tell you he’d gotten hurt, that someone or something had torn through his skin and ripped him open. How he’d managed to rip his stitches was a mystery, but the fact that he’d clearly ignored his bleeding would threatened to drive you mad. 

“Bucky, hey-” you took his face in your hands, “wake up for me, okay? I need you to wake up. Look at me.”

A scowl furrowed Bucky’s brow and squeezed his eyes shut as he stirred, “Baby…” 

He tried to get his bearings in the hazy, unfamiliar world in which he awoke. It took his every ounce of strength and concentration to finally look at you, to focus. His clumsy movements were slow and weak, but he couldn’t help himself- he needed to touch you.

“Hi…hey, doll” he reached for you, landing one gentle hand on your cheek. The combination of fatigue and blood loss had him confused and lost in a nebulous head space- but the second he saw you, all was right in the world. 

The comfort you brought him was disrupted, however, by a sharp pain sizzling up his side. He groaned in agony as you put pressure on his wound. A red tide washed over your hands and stained your skin, sinking into the crevasses of your cuticles. He let loose another pained groan, and the sound threatened to tear you apart. You whispered apology after apology, but Bucky couldn’t seem to hear you. He was too dazed by the pain. 

“Hey, Buck, hi-” Tears threatened to break past your emotional dam, but you reinforced your will to keep calm- Bucky needed help, you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. “I need you to listen to me, okay, babe? Focus on me. I’m gonna go get something to stop the bleeding, and I’m gonna call the med team, and-”

“Who’s bleeding?” he slurred.

“You are, baby. So I need to take care of you, okay? But I need you to-”

He wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss talking, but he could’ve sworn you were an angel, glowing in your sparkly, golden dress. All pain vanished from his body as he took in the sight of his best girl. “You look so pretty doll,” he gazed at you with glassy eyes, smiling as he admired the love of his life. “Beautiful. I like your fancy dress. Why are you so fancy-”

Suddenly, Bucky gave a sharp gasp, “Doll, your party…” Wide eyes stared back at you as he forced himself past the threshold of exhaustion and pain. His shaking hand reached for your tacky ‘birthday girl’ sash, gently rubbing the glittery letters, “we’re gonna be late- we should go.”

He did his very best to hoist himself from the couch, but his battered body refused. Another rush of blood leaked from his wound, pouring down your hand. He was so sweet, so thoughtful- sometimes to his detriment. He’d do anything for you- often saying he’d sell his soul to the devil if you needed him to. And now, as he bled out on his living room couch, all he wanted was to celebrate his best girl.

You shook your head, “Shhhh, Buck. Lay down for me, alright? It’s okay- the party’s over. Take your hand and put it here-” You replaced your hand with his, “and push down, okay? I’m gonna go grab a towel-”

“No- what? It’s over?” His heartbroken words stuck in his throat, “I missed it?”

He’d never been so disappointed in himself.

“It’s okay, Buck. I promise,” you pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Leaving Bucky’s side felt wrong. He was confused, barely conscious, and losing more blood by the second- he needed you. His bleeding wound pulsed with each beat of his heart, just as whispered apologies trickled from his lips.

As quickly as you could, you snatched a clean towel from his linen closet and found his phone in the kitchen. The SWORD med team’s emergency number sat right under yours in his ‘favorites’, and you pressed call just as you arrived back at his side.

His tired eyes struggled to stay open as the comforting embrace of unconsciousness beckoned him forth. But the second you knelt by his side, any urge to sleep dissipated. He watched you talking to someone on the phone, only catching a stray word here and there. You said something about blood and an emergency- but he didn’t quite understand. He simply admired the bouncy curls of your hair and the sweet timber of your voice. Adoration rushed through him- God, he loved you.

“Baby, come here…” he reached for you, desperately tugging on your sleeve. “Lay with me…”

“In a little while, okay, Buck?” You pressed the towel to his bleeding wound, feeling the warmth of his blood coating your fingers, “I have to keep pressure till the med team gets here.” 

Bucky let out a disappointed huff. He just wanted you to rest his head on your chest while you played with his hair. He was beyond out of it, swirling around in a blurry, carefree world unburdened by pain. He needed a to feel your body against his, your hands in his hair, your lips on his neck.

And as you gazed down at his loopy smile, you couldn’t help but wonder: how long had he been bleeding? Did he spend the entire day dabbing at his wound, dying countless pieces of gauze a sickly red? Were his bedsheets and towels stained with the evidence of his ripped stitches? Your heart sunk.

A pounding on the front door pulled you from your spiral, and the thundering of heavy boots strengthened your resolve. Gloved hands worked quickly to free Bucky from his jacket and shirt, carefully appraising his gaping wound. They sent you to the sidelines, forcing you to look on as they treated the love of your life. Your bloodied hands shook and fidgeted with the scarlet stained towel- this was the epitome of helplessness.

One doctor worked quickly to stem the bleeding and suture Bucky’s wound while the other set up an IV drip. Saline and supplementary blood flowed through long tubes, bringing Bucky slowly back to life one drop at a time. He didn’t complain about the needles puncturing his skin or the cold saline chilling him from the inside out. He, instead, stared at you with a slack-jawed smile. Things were still strange and unsteady as the bags emptied into his body, like Bucky had somehow found himself at the bottom of the ocean- but with you there, it didn’t matter.

“You’re gonna be just fine- ripping your stitches set your healing process back significantly,” one of the doctors said, “you lost a lot of blood. But with the saline and the supplemental blood, you’ll heal up just fine.” He slowly pulled the IVs from Bucky’s arm and gave one last look at his stitches. “Be careful this time- keep those things intact”. With the medical staff finally gone, Bucky finally got some alone time with his girl.

He reached for you, his shaking hand outstretched as far as it would go. “Would you c’mere, please, baby?” He winced as he overextended his abdomen, the fresh stitches protesting his movement. You made your way over to him, your hands still coated in his blood, and pulled him into your embrace. The woozy feeling left him slowly, giving him the chance to comprehend the night’s events.

“Doll, I’m so-” he huffed against your chest, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it…”

“Buck, I don’t care about the party. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt- that you ripped your stitches?” 

His shoulders rose and fell against your body. He knew damn well why he didn’t tell you. He was always missing important events or messing them up somehow- he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. He swore to himself that he’d push through the torn stitches and the pain and the blood, even if it meant a day full of agony. He was going to make it to your party. 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry about me. I didn’t want to ruin your night,” Bucky said. “I know you, sweets. If I told you I was hurt, you would’ve cancelled the whole thing and spent your night doting on me. I couldn’t do that to you. It’s not fair”.

You gently pulled Bucky’s head from your chest, staring him deep in his glassy eyes. “I spent the whole night worrying about you, anyway. I thought you were standing me up- and then I thought you were dead. I left before they could even sing ‘happy birthday’”. 

Bucky ran a bloodstained hand down his face. Despite his best efforts, he’d ruined your night yet again. “Baby, I’d never stand you up- I’m so sorry. I thought this stupid thing was gonna be okay-” He flicked his eyes toward his massive wound, “I kept bandaging it up over and over again and I even got dressed for the party- and then I just collapsed. I wanted to go, I wanted to be there. I wanted-”

“I’m not mad, Buck. It’s just a birthday party-”

“Yeah, but it’s your birthday party. I should’ve been there”.

You took his face in your bloody hands, forcing him to look at you. “All I ever want is for you to be okay, for you to be safe. And if that means that you have to miss my birthday party to get medical attention, please miss the party. You clearly need rest, Buck. If you’d just told me, I would’ve understood.”

“I just never wanna let you down, doll…”

“Well, you didn’t let me down, but you did scare me to death.” You rested your forehead against his and took your first deep breath of the night, “You’re everything to me, Buck- you’re all I care about. Okay? Your wellbeing takes priority over some stupid party or anything else- every time.”

Bucky’s lips met yours in a gentle kiss. He hated himself for worrying you, for scaring you, for ruining your party. But he had one last chance at redemption, “can I give you your present?”  With his remaining strength, he tried to push himself up off the couch- but his body failed him once again. You caught him as he collapsed, pulling him once again into the safety of your arms.

“Just rest for now, okay? That’s what I want in lieu of a present.” 

His head shot up at your incredulous statement- you were gonna get your damn present.

“I’ll open it, Buck- but not right now. I just need you to relax. Heal. There will be time for presents later, I promise”.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, but couldn’t resist your wishes. And if he were honest with himself, falling asleep with his head on your chest seemed like the perfect way to heal his injuries. He whispered as many ‘I love yous’ as he could before drifting off to sleep, smiling as you returned each and every one.

——————————

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[watchmegetobsessed]

DESIRE III.

A/N: you guuuys im so sorry it took me so long to finish this, but it's been one hell of a week! i hope it only got you way more excited though haha! thank you for reading this story and if you want to read some more of them, send me a prompt for blurbs! i might write a few extras for the story, because i loved it so much!🥰

PAIRING: older!dad’s-bestfriend!Harry x reader

WORD COUNT: 10.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

It started off as a usual Monday.

For a change, Harry was the one to spend the night at your place, so when your alarm goes off and you try to find the phone on your night stand a heavy, tattooed arm is curling around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. When your fingers finally hit the right button you groan and fall back, only half awake, though you know you can’t sleep back.

Harry nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your exposed skin and it makes you giggle.

“God, I don’t want to get up,” he growls, squeezing you gently before he rolls to his back. His naked chest is screaming to be touched, the cross pendant lying on his right peck. Pushing yourself up you get halfway on top of him, kissing him wherever you can reach. He hums pleased, arms coming to curl around you before he tugs on you so he can kiss your lips.

“Good morning Mr. Styles,” you smirk against his lips teasingly.

“Fuck, Y/N. You know how much it turns me on when you call me that.”

“I know,” you giggle playfully. “Though we don’t have time for that now, I’m sorry. I have a meeting at nine so I should start getting ready.”

“How about just a quick shower together?” he suggests and you can’t say no to that. Especially because you know that at least one of you will leave the bathroom satisfied.

And oh boy, you were right about that. Harry is a pro at making things quick but he can still rock your world. Though you didn’t think it would fit into the time, he insists that a quickie won’t make you late. Ten minutes. He makes you scream his name in just ten minutes and when he walks out of the bathroom to make a quick breakfast for the two of you while you blowdry your hair, you need to take a moment to calm your racing heart. This man is going to be the death of you one day.

You both are out the door by eight thirty, parting ways with a kiss at the garage of your building that ends up being a bit too long, since you won’t be meeting tonight. Harry has a late meeting with some partners overseas so he’ll get home earliest at midnight, so you decided you are spending tonight separated.

“I love you, have a great day,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.

“Love you too. Charm those investors,” you chuckle and turning around you head to your car, but Harry slaps your butt as part of his goodbye, making you jump a little. Peeking over your shoulder you see his boyish smirk and it makes you weak in the knees.

The first half of the day goes by fast, you’re quite busy in the office. You have a late lunch with Isha and get back to work, planning where you’ll go grocery shopping on your way home.

Your dad’s call reaches you between two meetings.

“Hey dad, I don’t have much time, what’s up?” you ask as you rush back to your office to change your notes and head to your next one.

“Come see me after work,” he simply answers, no hi, no how are you and his tone is so harsh, it could cut through the line. You stop in your tracks, an eerie feeling running down your spine.

“Everything alright?”

“We’ll see.” And with that, the call ends.

You move the phone from your ear with a shaking hand, something inside you is screaming that you’re in some big trouble and when it comes to your dad, only one thing can put you in that position.

Dialing Harry’s number you listen to it ring and ring until it goes to voicemail.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, seeing that you need to leave or you’ll be late. You grab your stack of papers and run out of your office heading to the conference room two floors above you, attempting to call Harry one more time, but the same thing happens, so you shoot him a text.

Call me ASAP!!

Sitting with your colleagues in that conference room is like torture, you keep checking your phone for any sign of Harry, but nothing happens until about one hour later. His caller ID pops up on the screen and you excuse yourself right away, sneaking out of the room, ignoring the disapproving looks.

“Harry!” you breathe out answering the call.

“Your dad called you, right?”

Your stomach drops to the floor, because his question strengthens you in your theory that your dad somehow found out about you and Harry.

“Yeah. He called you too?”

“Just cleared my schedule to meet him with you.” His voice sounds so weak, so desperate, you just know he is already beating himself up for whatever is going to happen.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, panic taking over you instantly.

“Let’s meet beforehand, alright? We need to be prepared for the worst,” he suggests and it sounds like he is collected and calm, but you can tell he is freaking out just as much as you are.

“Okay,” you breathe out, trying to control your emotions, after all, you’re still at work.

“Y/N?” he murmurs your name softly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“I love you too, Harry,” you answer weakly before you’re forced to end the call.

Suffering through the rest of the day is painful and every minute feels like an hour. You keep checking your phone, but nothing comes, at least not from the people you are focused on right now. When the clock finally hits five you pack your stuff faster than ever, heading down. You’ve just stepped into the elevator when Harry texts you that he is down in the lobby. When you arrive downstairs there he is, sitting on one of the sofas near the front desk and he stands as soon as he sees you walk out of the elevator.

“Hi,” you breathe out, just the presence of him already doing so much good for your anxiety. He circles his arms around you, embracing you tightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, baby. Come on, let’s talk somewhere,” he suggests, nodding towards the exit.

The two of you end up sitting in his car, a few moments of silence weighing down on you, neither of you really knowing what to say.

“So what are we supposed to do?” you ask. “I don’t even know how he found out about this…”

“It doesn’t matter. We just know that he found out from someone else and not us,” he groans shaking his head. “What do we tell him?”

“The truth,” you answer confidently. You wouldn’t want to keep on lying, that would just make it worse. “Exactly what happened.”

“He’ll take our head,” he sighs painfully. He looks so anxious, so scared, you’ve never seen him this worried.

“You’re not thinking about ending it, right?” you ask quietly, your voice barely more than just a whisper. His eyes find you and his look softens as he reaches out and cups your face in his hand.

“Didn’t even occur to me. I just… I wish it could be a bit different. Less complicated.”

“Promise me whatever dad says, you won’t give up on us.” He stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind, hear the thoughts that run through his head, because you can’t read anything from his expression.

“Promise you,” he then finally tells you, a wave of relief washing over you at his words. You lean in and kiss him, almost like there’s no tomorrow, but he returns it just as eagerly, his hands clasping your jaw to keep you close over the shifting gear.

Never in your life have you thought that one day you’d be scared to go over to your parents’ house, the place where you grew up. The way there is short, but you go through a whole emotional rollercoaster. One moment you want to throw up at the thought of telling your dad the truth, then confidence takes over you and you realize that you’re an adult, a grown-up who can freely decide who she wants to date and your dad doesn’t have a saying in it. Besides, doesn’t he want to see you happy? Doesn’t he want the best for you? Because Harry truly is all of that, why would he want to take that away from you?

You’re a mess by the time you pull up at your parents’ driveway after Harry, since you went with separate cars, you’re a full blown mess. Your palms are sweating, your thoughts are racing and the urge to just start the car again and drive away is way too tempting. But you don’t do that. Instead, you get out and walk up to Harry who is waiting for you at the front porch for you. His hand finds yours just for a moment, he squeezes it before letting go of it, the two of you walking up to the front door shoulder to shoulder.

Since you weren’t planning on visiting this morning, you didn’t bring your own keys, you have to ring the bell. It echoes painfully on the other side of the door and you take one last deep breath before the storm arrives.

Bailey, your sister opens the door and judging from the look on her face, it’s not gonna be much fun. She looks exactly like that one time when you didn’t come home after a party and also didn’t call your parents to let them know where you were. You were only seventeen, Bailey just turned twelve back then, she let you in since you lost your keys and her face told it all, what you could expect from your parents.

Now she looks exactly the same, just eight years apart and for a moment you think about running away again. But then your mature side steps forward and takes the lead.

“He is in his office,” Bailey simply tells you, holding the door open.

“Thanks, B,” you smile at her, walking in with Harry right behind you. You navigate your way down the hallway and through the living room until you arrive to the double doors of the office.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” you mumble under your breath before knocking on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side until the doors fly open and there is your dad, standing so tall and… rigid and most importantly with an expression that makes your whole inside shake. He is mad. Big time.

His eyes scan over you first, then move to Harry and for a split second you think he is about to launch at him or at least punch him in the face, but he does nothing like that. Instead, he turns around leaving the doors open, a signal to follow him as he walks back to his desk and sits down. It feels like you’d been called into the principal’s office because you did something that’s gonna earn you detention.

You’re an adult, no one can make you feel bad for doing what makes you happy! You scream at yourself.

Your dad still hasn’t said a word as he sits down and reaches for an envelope. He pulls something out of it and then snaps it to the desk. Stepping closer your stomach drops again as you see the photos of you and Harry from last Saturday when you were having dinner with Sarah and Mitch. There’s no doubt who made them and you’d love to know how they ended up at your dad, but you have to push that aside for now.

“Do you have something to tell me?” your dad asks, his tone is so dry, it almost hurts.

“Listen, it’s—“ Harry starts, but you cut him off. You know he would try to sugarcoat it somehow, but you think it’s better to just rip the bandaid off.

“It is what it is. I’m dating Harry,” you simply say and hear Harry suck his breath in just as your words roll off of your tongue.

Your dad’s face turns into a deep red and you fear he is about to blow up right in front of you. He is staring back so hard and you know he is trying to make you break with just his look, but it’s not gonna happen. Not this time. A sudden rush of adrenaline sweeps through you and it’s giving you just enough strength to stand your ground against him. Since no one is saying a word and the silence is starting to feel painful, you decide to elaborate.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find out about it from us, we wanted to tell, but we’ve been trying to figure out how.”

“It was nothing against you—“ Harry starts, but he gets cut off once again, this time by your dad.

“You just don’t try to explain anything in my house!” he snaps so loud, it makes you jump. “I trusted you with my business, I let you into my family’s life and this is how you thank me all of that?! By seducing my daughter?!”

You wince at his words and expect Harry to argue with him, to defend himself and tell him that it’s not the case, he didn’t seduce you, but he doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, staring back at your father and listens to the nasty things thrown at him.

“Dad, that’s—“

“No! You’re gonna listen to me, because this is my house and I had to find out about my best friend seducing my own daughter behind my back, making a fool out of me!”

“He didn’t seduce me!” you snap back, but when his eyes flash at you, it almost kicks all the air out of your lungs. “Dad, let us tell you how it happened, you’ll—“

“I don’t want to hear the dirty details!” he growls back, his fist meeting with the top of the desk. “How dare you betray me like that!”

“No one betrayed you, dad!” you argue, feeling your own anger bubbling in your chest. “It happened, it’s not like we can decide who we fall in love with!”

“Love?!” he barks back. “What do you know about love?! Clearly nothing if you think you love him!”

“You don’t know about that! You don’t know anything about us!”

“Because you didn’t tell me!”

“Would you have reacted differently? What would have been different if I told you right away? Because I have a feeling that nothing! You would have been just this stubborn and ignorant if I did.”

“I could have talked you out of wasting your time!”

Tears are dwelling in your eyes, hearing your own father talk like this about the man you love, the man who is supposed to be his friend. Looking over to your left you see Harry standing like a complete statue, just silently letting himself get humiliated for something he shouldn’t be held responsible for. You want to scream at him to say something, to stand up against your dad, but you just can’t. Instead, you turn back to face your dad, taking a step closer to him.

“Why does it hurt you to see me happy? Isn’t it what you want for me? To be happy and in love?”

“Of course it is, but this is not that,” he shakes his head vigorously. “You think he’ll make you happy?!”

“He already does!” you snap back, offended by his words, while Harry is still standing there without a word next to you. Is he in shock? Why isn’t he saying a word?! “He makes me happy, so what does it matter how old he is or how we know each other?” You’re desperate to make him understand that Harry is not a villain here, he didn’t do anything wrong, but it seems like your dad is way too stubborn to even consider anything you’re saying. The tears start dwelling in your eyes and you know you’re just moments away from starting to sob.

Your dad’s gaze slowly moves over to Harry and just by the look on his face you know whatever he is about to say… there won’t be any mercy in it.

“You really think you are what my daughter needs? You think you can be what she needs?”

The way your dad’s voice quieted down, it just made his words cut even deeper and they weren’t even addressed to you. Looking at Harry, you’re silently begging for him to finally say something, but his pink lips that kissed you so desperately not so long ago are now pressed tightly together, no word leaving them.

Your dad stands up from the desk, takes the photos from it and stepping closer to Harry he simply throws them at his chest, the papers flying around in the room from the strength he put into the movement.

“Dad, stop it,” you tell him, but there’s no use, he doesn’t even acknowledge you as he steps even closer to Harry, puffing his chest to dominate the situation.

“You’re just stealing her youth away. What could a guy like you give her, huh? Money? She has that on her own. You think you love her? I highly doubt that, you’re just alone, aren’t you? I know you well, Styles,” he hisses, calling him by his family name probably the first time ever in your presence. “I know that you couldn’t keep a woman by your side all this time and now you want to ruin my daughter? You are a pathetic excuse of a man and I’m not gonna let you hurt my daughter!”

While he kept his tone down, he shouted the last part and it broke the dam inside you. Tears are flowing down your cheeks and you’re desperate to get away from him, as far as possible. How can he be so cruel? How can he talk like this to his friend even if he doesn’t agree with what Harry did? This is not your father, not the man you idolized growing up, who grew up loving with everything you are.

Getting between Harry and him, you push him back, forcing him to look at you, snapping out of the pure anger he just directed at Harry.

“The only person here hurting me is you! I’m not a little girl anymore! I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about it earlier, but there’s nothing you can do to tear us apart! I love him, he loves me and he is the one I want to be with! You’ve always tried to set me up with all these different guys you thought would be perfect for me, so then now why aren’t you accepting that I finally found the man I truly love? Why are you trying to ruin my happiness?”

“You’re trying to tell me that this is what you want? Him? You want to live with someone who disrespects his friend the way he did with me?”

“He didn’t disrespect you. You have no idea what happened, I was the one who initiated everything, he was trying to keep himself away from me because of you! But we are adults, you can’t tell us what we can and can’t do!”

Your dad glances over your shoulder, straight at Harry again before he speaks up.

“You should have kept yourself away from her, like you wanted at first,” he sneers and now you’re the one seeing red.

Pushing your dad back you wipe the salty tears off of your cheeks before you speak your truth.

“Don’t you dare talking to him like that! He did nothing wrong, but loved and cherished me! Just because you’re so ignorant and disapprove what we have, it doesn’t mean we’ll obey you and just forget about each other!”

Turning around you look at Harry, who is still staring back at your dad, his eyes are glossy and his jaw is clenched. Glancing down you see his hands are curled into fists, his knuckles turning white from how hard he is squeezing them.

“Right, Harry? Please, say something!” you plead him, desperate to get him to talk so you know he is still on your side.

He holds his eye-contact with your dad even longer and you’re almost about to start screaming when his lips finally part and his teared up eyes slowly move to you. That’s when you realize… you lost him.

“He is right,” he whispers choked up, your throat closing up at his words. “This was a mistake.”

“No. No, no, no! It wasn’t! Don’t let him get into your head!” you beg to him, hands coming to cup his face.

Clearly, your dad doesn’t like the action, because he tries to pull you back, but you violently shake his hand off of yourself.

“Don’t touch me!” you scream at him in a way you never thought you’d ever do. But you don’t dwell on it any longer, just simply turn back to Harry, cupping his face like you originally wanted. “Harry, you’re just shocked from the situation, you can’t be serious. Please, don’t let him get into your head!”

“Y/N, stop,” he pleads through trembling lips, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull your hands away from his face.

“No, I won’t stop, you’re being nonsense right now!”

“He is right,” he raises his voice at you. “I can’t give you what you want, Y/N. I was… a fool to think that this was right.” He chokes up again, a tear rolling down his cheek that he wipes away quickly. Then his eyes start flickering between you and your dad before he speaks up again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, before turning around and rushing out of the room so fast, that for a moment you don’t even process what’s happening.

When you finally snap out of the shock, you run after him, but your dad once again tries to stop you.

“Y/N, don’t you dare—“

“I don’t fucking care! Is this what you wanted? You wanted to ruin my life? To break me? Well congrats, you did it!” you scream at him before pushing his hand off of you and running after Harry without a second thought.

You get past your mom and Bailey as well, they both look so concerned and worried as you rush out of the house, but you don’t have time to deal with them. They probably heard most of the screaming and shouting that went down in the office, there’s a lot to talk about with everyone, not just your dad.

When you run outside Harry is already almost at his car, so you sprint to him, getting between him and the car so he can’t sit in and leave just yet.

“Harry, please don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” you beg him, full on crying, your cheeks are soaking wet from your tears.

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he breathes out shakily. You hold onto his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists, like he could disappear from your grasp any moment.

“Harry, you promised!” you sob, your mascara probably melting down your face, but you couldn’t care less. “You promised that no matter what happens here, we’ll stay together!”

You feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but you just can’t help yourself. It hurts, your chest feels like it’s about to blow up any moment and if Harry gets into this car, leaving you… you’re not sure you’ll survive.

“You said you love me and you promised you wouldn’t give up on us!” You’re choking the words out, not able to contain your sobs anymore and you see his face contort from the pain, he looks like he is moments away from falling apart completely.

“You’ll be better off without me, Y/N. I still love you, that’s why I’m doing this. You deserve someone better, someone who…”

“Don’t say who treats me right, because that’s you! You are everything to me!”

He winces at your words, like they cut through his skin and when his eyes find yours again, you sib at the ocean of pain you see in them. His chest is heaving just like yours, like he needs all his energy to stay stood right now and you take this moment to pull him down and press your lips against his hard, kissing him like your life depended on it. At first, he stays still, resists your try, but you don’t pull back, your hands move up to cup his face and you’re silently begging for him to finally move.

And then he kisses you back. His lips open and he kisses you back so eagerly, he devours you right then and there. But as fast as it came, the moment vanishes and he pulls back, pushing you away from him not too harshly and while you’re still recovering from the kiss, he quickly gets into the car and shuts the door open, the noise of it snapping you back into reality.

“No! Harry! Don’t leave!” you start smacking your hand against the window, but he doesn’t look your way, just ignites the car and as you’re screaming your lungs out, he drives away.

You stand on the driveway, completely numb, sobbing uncontrollably for God knows how long, staring after Harry’s car that’s long gone. In just a couple of minutes, you go through probably every stage of grief, but then you get stuck at anger. You could break something, anything that comes into your way for what just happened, but who should you blame for it?

Vivian, for taking the photos? Was she the one to send them to your father or did she forward them to Emmett and he was the heartless asshole to ruin your life like this? Or maybe you should be mad at Harry for breaking his promise to you? For not standing up against your father when you needed him the most?

No. You’re the angriest at your father, because he actually turned out to be the petty, ignorant shadow of himself you feared to meet upon coming clean to him.

Wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, you turn around, the sobbing mess you were just minutes ago is gone, disappointment and hurt took its place and you’ll let your father know just how badly he messed this one up.

Marching back into the house you face your sister first, but when she sees the state you’re in, she doesn’t even dare to talk to you, just watches you head back into your dad’s office and there he is, sitting at his desk, staring ahead of him as your mother is scolding him. She stops right away when she sees you walk in, they both look up at you with wide eyes, as if they just saw a ghost.

“Mom, would you give us a sec?” you quietly ask her.

She hesitates, but nods her head at last before walking out and closing the door behind her, all while you just stare at your dad blankly.

“Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?” you ask, no screaming, no shouting, just standing there with no expression on your face and you watch him go pale at the sight of you. “You raised me to look for the things that make me happy and go after them no matter what the cost if them is. Now that I did that, you took it away from me and for what? What was the reason behind it?”

“Y/N, he is… he is way too old for you.”

“No, he is not. Fourteen years. The world has seen way worse things than that. What was the real reason behind what you did?” you push, knowing well the age couldn’t be what made him do it.

He opens his mouth several times but closes it back over and over again, no words leaving it. A bitter laugh falls from your lips as you take a deep breath.

“Congrats. You just… completely shattered my heart,” you tell him and with that, you turn around and walk out. He doesn’t try to stop you.

“Y/N, honey…” your mother stops you and looking at her, you break again, the tears spilling out of your eyes. She pulls you into her arms, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll talk to him. It’s gonna be alright, hun.”

“It doesn’t matter. I lost him,” you sob, hugging her tight, desperately needing the comfort.

“He’ll come around. He is your father, he loves you no matter what.”

“I’m not talking about dad,” you shake your head, letting go of her. “Harry. I really think I lost him,” you breathe out before heading out. You can’t stay any longer in this house.

It’s all a blur, how you get home, but the next thing you know is that you’re sitting on the floor of your shower, the hot water running down your back as you stare ahead of you blankly. You simply refuse to acknowledge how your life fell apart in just a few hours. You never know how fragile your happiness is until it’s completely shattered.

It’s been a couple of hours since you left your parents’ house and you’ve tried to call Harry a hundred times, but he never answered. You even thought about showing up at his place, but your conscience talked you down so you headed home and now you’re swimming in your own pity and pain. When you were feeling the absolute worst you called your boss that you won’t be coming to work in the morning, you caught a stomach bug. Your worn-out, deadly voice just added to your little lie and he didn’t even question it, just told you to get better and take more days if needed.

It’s hard to keep track of everything that goes through your mind, from what you could have done better to how to get back the man you love. Unfortunately, you get to the conclusion that if Harry doesn’t want to be with you, you can’t force him to come back and it feels like a knife to think about a life you have to live without him.

Sometime in the middle of the night you eventually fall asleep, tired and drained emotionally and physically too. You don’t dream, it’s just complete darkness all through the night, until you gain your consciousness back and see that it’s bright outside. You’ve slept through most of noon and your body can feel the lack of fuel, so you’re quick to eat whatever you grab first from your fridge. Checking your phone you see that Isha has called you a couple times in the morning, she probably wanted to know why you didn’t go to work, but you don’t think you have the energy to tell her what really happened yesterday.

As you spread out on your couch, not even planning to move for the rest of the day, your thoughts return to the photos that were sent to your dad. Vivian couldn’t mail them, she doesn’t even know your dad’s full name, let alone his address. That leaves you with one option.

It had to be Emmett. That fucker had the nerve to send you one last fuck you, even months after your break up because he couldn’t accept that you were the one who threw him out.

The more you think about it, the angrier and hungrier for revenge you are getting. You let him get away with so many things during your relationship and even before that. This cannot go unnoticed, he can’t just go away with ruining other people’s life. No, not this time.

Your rage almost blinds you as you jump up from the couch and rush into your bedroom to put on some normal clothes. It’s three in the afternoon and you know exactly where to find him.

Emmett studied law because his father wanted him to be a lawyer. He barely finished school, his grades were almost failing, but somehow he managed to get that degree and he is now working at his father’s law firm. His dad has always loved you, because he felt like you were pulling Emmett with you, encouraging him to finally become an adult. Often when the two of you had a fight, his dad would take your side and make him apologize to you.

So if Emmett decided to pull your dad into this nasty business, you’re gonna do the same with his, but there won’t be any mercy in it.

An eerie feeling of nostalgia washes over you when you push the heavy glass door open of the law firm’s building. Last time you were here you brought lunch for Emmett, like a good girlfriend, now you wish you put laxative in his sandwich. Luckily, the girl at the front desk has no idea that you shouldn’t be here and when you smile at her warmly, she lets you go up without a second guess. So Emmett hasn’t been too vocal about your break up at his work place, huh.

Emmett’s desk is right in front of his dad’s office, so he can’t miss you as you walk up to the door. He makes a double turn upon seeing you, his whole face going pale at your arrival.

“Y/N, what are you—“

“Shut the fuck up,” you tell him, knocking on the door of his dad’s office. He is quick to stumble out from behind his desk to stop you, but before he could reach you the door flies open and his dad, Robert is standing tall in front of you, a surprised, but warm smile on his face upon seeing you.

“Y/N! What a pleasant surprise!” His eyes switch over to his son, who is anxiously standing right behind you, you can sense his presence.

“Hello Robert, do you have some time for a little chat perhaps?” you ask, voice as sweet as honey.

“Y/N, what are you—“ Emmett attempts to interfere, but you ignore him completely.

“I promise I won’t take up much of your time,” you add, looking at Robert, who seems quite confused about what this is truly about.

“Sure, come on in,” he invites you inside at last and as you walk in, you notice that Emmett is coming with you as well. “Son, what is this… What’s happening?”

Robert returns to his desk, inspecting you and Emmett as well with a puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N you shouldn’t be here,” Emmett growls in your way, but you just brush your hair over your shoulder and taking a deep breath you get down to business.

“I think I should. Because I assume you have no idea what your son has been up to, Robert. And I just wanted to clear the air.” Slowly you turn your head to face Emmett and the fear you see in his eyes almost makes you laugh. “And make us even,” you then add with a sweet, innocent smile.

“I can’t wait to find out what this is about,” Robert sighs, leaning back in his chair, already having a feeling that his son has screwed up. Royally.

“I hope you know that we are no longer together, haven’t been for about two months,” you start.

“Yeah, heard about that,” Robert nods, his jaw clenching as his eyes jump over to his son before back at you.

“Well, I assume you heard the story differently about how we parted ways. Because according to your son, I have cheated on him with a family friend and that’s what ended our relationship. Does this version ring a bell?”

“Yes, this is exactly what Emmett has told me, but if I’m being honest, I was having a hard time believing it,” he admits and relief bubbles in your throat. He was leaning towards your side even before you came here.

Emmett growls beside you and you don’t even have to look his way to know what he is going through. He could never please his father, no matter how hard he tried, he was never enough for his dad which is sad in a way, you often ended up being the shoulder he cried on because of this issue, but right now you can’t give a flying fuck about how hurtful this is for him. Not after what he did.

“We broke up because Emmett had been treating me like shit, like I was just there for his entertainment and not because I was his partner,” you start, the rage clawing up its way on your spine.

And then you tell him all about how that one weekend happened, you even tell about finding comfort at Harry, because you’re not ashamed of it, you were as free as a bird, no one can make you feel bad for doing what was good for you. And of course, you also share Emmett’s stunt. How he got the pictures of Vivian and decided to send them to your father with the pure intention of hurting you.

All along, Robert listens intently, no word leaving his mouth until you’re finished, until you’ve gotten everything off of your chest and when you’re done, he is staring back at you with an expression you can’t quite read and for a moment you panic and think that maybe you shouldn’t have come here. And then he finally speaks up.

Robert’s eyes move over to his son and pushing himself away from the desk he stands up in an agonizingly slow pace, leaning onto his desk as his eyes pierce into Emmett’s fear filled face.

“Apologize. Now,” he orders in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. It radiates power and authority and you swear you see Emmett’s hands shaking as he remains seated beside you, frozen in fear. So when he doesn’t move or speak, something snaps in his father. His fist slams against the desk, making you both jump. “I said apologize!” he barks and you gasp for air, you’ve never seen him like this, like a ticking bomb, ready to explode any time and destroy everything around him. As a lawyer, you always knew Robert could turn into an intimidating, scary version of himself, but you never thought you’d actually witness it happen.

“A man doesn’t act like this and I didn’t raise an absolute loser! I will not let my son treat any woman like garbage! How dare you spread lies and hurt her like that?!” Robert continues, lashing completely out on Emmett, who is just sitting there, like a little child, his eyes tearing up and for a moment you almost feel bad for putting him into this situation, but then you remember all the pain he caused you. For once, you won’t let it slide, he needs to be punished for his actions.

Emmett slowly turns to face you, the smugness you’re so used to is long gone from his face as he speaks up.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles, barely audible.

“Louder! Speak up for God’s sake!” Robert orders, making Emmett jump again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did!” he says, this time a lot louder, but his voice is still shaky.

Robert takes a deep breath, settling back into his chair, smoothing over his shirt as he tries hard to contain his anger.

“Y/N, I’m sorry you had to go through that because of my son. He had no right to do any of that and I’m giving you my word that he’ll atone for his mistakes and taught a lesson he won’t forget as long as he lives,” Robert sneers between his teeth.

“I just want him to leave me alone and let me find the happiness I deserve,” you say, turning to face Emmett who is not looking at you, instead, his eyes are glued to the floor at his feet. “I didn’t do anything wrong and I wasn’t gonna let someone mistreat me the way he did.”

“You don’t have to worry about my son, Y/N. And I’m sorry you had to go through that because of him. You have my word that by the time I’m done with him, he’ll regret even just thinking about hurting you ever in this life.”

You have no words, just nod as you stand from the chair and pay one last glance at Emmett, the man you once thought you loved, but only because you had not experienced true love just then. Now you know what it is, because Harry showed you.

And you’ve lost him.

It takes some time to pull yourself together enough to realize that time waits for no one and you can’t just lie in your pit of sorrow forever, even though that’s all you want to do for a long time if not forever.

Two days pass by and you busy yourself with as much work as possible. On the night after you paid your visit to Emmett’s dad Isha came over and let you cry on her shoulder, letting out all your pain and hurt and you’ve been feeling a bit better since then, but you still miss Harry terribly.

Now it’s past seven pm on Thursday, the office has cleared out an hour ago, but you wanted to stay as long as possible. You’re way ahead of your weekly tasks, but it’s still better than sitting at home on your own, pretending like your heart is not broken anymore.

It’s the same routine over again. You get home, sit for a solid twenty minutes before forcing yourself to eat something for dinner and then head to bed as early as possible. But tonight your routine gets interrupted.

Your doorbell rings right when you are about to take a shower and you stop in your tracks, because you weren’t expecting anyone. Walking up to the door you open it slightly and you can’t mask your surprise when you find your dad there.

“H-hey,” he breathes out, like he is afraid that you’re gonna lash out on him. “Sorry for coming here unannounced, but… I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”

“Oh. Um, come in,” you tell him, a little unsure of what he is doing here, but you’re not gonna send him away, even after everything that happened.

The two of you sit on your couch, it’s clear he has a lot to say, but he is trying to figure out how to start, so you just wait and wait, until he finally speaks up.

“Y/N, I am so sorry for… everything I said and… how I acted. I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well you did. A lot.”

It slips out harsher than you expected, but you’re telling him the truth. For your surprise, he doesn’t try to defend himself, he just nods in agreement.

“I know. And I’m terribly sorry for that. I can… I can explain.”

“Then do it. Because I don’t see why you’d want to ruin my happiness the way you did. You were always so eager to set me up with guys, you did it not so long ago too. And then when I finally find the man I want to be with, you completely ruin it!”

“I know! I know and I’m sorry!” he growls. “I panicked! I panicked, because… I saw the way you were looking at him. I saw that glimmer, that sparkle I knew so well and I got panicked that… that I’m gonna lose my daughter. That you won’t need me anymore, because there will be a man in your life more important than me. I know, I’m selfish, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

The man you are seeing now is a thousand miles away from the one you saw on Monday, the one that chased away the man you love. He is broken and desperate and even though he hurt you immensely, he is still your dad.

“But wasn’t it what you wanted me to find? The man I look at that way you told me about? Weren’t you expecting me to find him?” you ask, already feeling your throat closing up.

“I was!” he breathes out shakily. “Or I thought so. I was just… struck that my little girl grew up and it scared me for a minute. I was desperately holding onto the thought of having you around forever and that was a mistake.”

“But you also said a lot of things about Harry too. That was just… horrible.”

“I know. And I’m not proud of that either,” he shakes his head, before rubbing his face with his palms. “I was trying to hurt him enough to leave you because I wasn’t ready to see you with someone and it even hurt me more that… I just couldn’t…” He is fighting himself, tripping over his words, but at this point you just want to hear the truth.

“Dad, just tell me. I just want to hear it all,” you plead. He takes a deep breath nodding before he continues.

“Deep down I knew he is the kind of man I imagined for you. The kind that would treat you right, but because I was panicked, I had to find something to hurt him with and… him being older was the only thing I could hold against him. But… I know it doesn’t matter.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you sniffle at his words. You understand where he was coming from, but it’s still hard to process he went into such depths just to break you apart from Harry. You want to hate him, stay mad at him forever, but it’s clear that you can’t do any of them. You still love him, it’ll however take some time for you to trust him again and forgive him for what he did.

“Right after you left, your mother basically beat sense into me,” he admits continuing.

“Wait, did she actually hit you?” you ask with widened eyes.

“No,” he shakes his head with a short, dry chuckle. “Though I would have deserved. But she put me back to my place and helped me realize how big of a screw up it all was and I just knew that I needed to make it right.”

“It still took you days to come here,” you breathe out, a bit puzzled what took him so long. He nods taking a deep breath.

“Because I went to Harry first.”

Your heart skips a beat. Your dad met Harry? He talked to him?

“I knew that if I wanted you to even consider forgiving me, I had to make things right with him first.”

“So you talked to him?” you ask, your voice dying down at the end, already choking up even at just the thought of Harry.

“I met him at his office. Went there with the pure intention of apologizing and talking sense into him to not throw it away, to not… throw you away.”

“But he doesn’t want me back, does he?” you ask, despair dripping from your words. It’s your worst nightmare, finding out that he doesn’t want anything to do with you and his radio silence has been proving this theory of yours right so far. But your dad shakes his head.

“Actually, I couldn’t even start before he told me he wants to resign, give all his rights back to me or a new owner of my choice.”

“What?”

“He said that wouldn’t feel right leading the company after what happened.”

“Did you try to convince him not to? He can’t just… throw everything away!” you gasp in shock. This is going even worse than you expected.

“I tried, believe me, I tried. I apologized, told him that I was in the wrong, that I didn’t mean anything I said and basically told him everything I told you now. But it was as if like he wasn’t even listening, he was so set on resigning, he kept saying that it’s for your sake, and that I was right about him. That he was just sucking your youth away a-and—“

“I’m sick of everyone deciding over what I should be doing with my youth!” you snap, the bubbling anger now stronger than ever. First your dad, now Harry, you’re over having others decide what you should be doing, when you are one hundred percent capable of deciding on your own. “Why is it so hard to believe that I know what I want? That I know what’s best for me?!”

“You’re right,” your dad breathes out, clearly regretting that he was once one of those doubting you. “I know that know, learned it in the hard way, but it seems like Harry is too stubborn to believe it. At least not when it’s coming from me.”

“You… you think he’ll listen to me?”

“You’re surely the only one to stand a chance. And if he is really the one you want to be… you should give it another try.”

“He is not answering my calls, dad.” The tears start flowing again, not able to control your emotions. “It’s a clear sign that he doesn’t want to see me a-and I don’t know what to do, but he really is the one I want to be with!”

“Honey,” he sniffles and you notice that his eyes glossed up too. “I know what you’re capable of.” Reaching out his hand takes yours, squeezing it tight. “My daughter goes after what she wants, no matter what. This time should not be an exception either.”

The luxurious apartment has never been this lived down, like a bomb exploded and left chaos behind with a man in the middle of it, who fell apart himself in the detonation. Or maybe he was the bomb himself.

It’s late, but Harry couldn’t tell himself what time it exactly is. Only some dim lighting is coming from somewhere in the place, maybe the bathroom? He doesn’t really know, but it’s the only reason he is not in the pitch dark. Still wearing his clothes from earlier today, the shirt is wrinkled and the first few buttons are ripped open, because he didn’t have the patience to actually undo them when he got back from the office. A half empty bottle of scotch is in front of him on the kitchen island, some of it waiting for him poured out into a glass and it surely won’t last long. Not when all he can still think about is… you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out shakily, downing the rest of the drink, almost throwing the glass back to the counter, it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter into pieces.

Harry has been through hell since Monday. Several times. And quite frankly, he doesn’t think he’ll ever see the light, not without you. But the voices in his head are telling him that he should keep himself away from you in order to give you a chance for happiness. God, your screams and the look in your eyes is still burned into his mind, the way you begged him to stay, not to listen to your dad and just stay with you. It was the hardest thing he has ever had to do, walking away from you and keeping himself away from you after that.

It truly broke him.

Grunting he leans onto the counter and tries to get his head straight enough to at least drag himself into the shower and then to bed. It’s gonna take all of his energy, something he is not rich in lately.

Then he hears the front door open and he freezes.

Walking in you’re taken aback by the darkness and at first you think he is not even here. You notice the mess, that the once spotless, clean home is now completely all over the place. Then you see the light coming from his bathroom and as you look around, walking further inside slowly you finally see him. Hunched forward, his back facing you, barely just a shadow of the confident man you know and love so much.

“Harry?” you call out and notice how his hand grips the edge of the counter even tighter. “Harry, it’s just me,” you speak up again when he doesn’t move.

“You think I don’t know your voice? The sound of your steps?”

His voice is so low, it sends a shiver down your spine right away, but he is still not turning around.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“But I did. Because I’m not letting you ruin everything that easily.” You try to sound confident, like you are not shaking like a leaf inside.

He shakes his head that’s hanging low and you hear him exhale sharply.

“You need to leave, Y/N.”

“I’m not leaving. You are not getting rid of me, Harry,” you let out a shaky chuckle. “Why do you want to leave your position at the company?” He mumbles something, but you can’t make out what it is. “Speak up,” you tell him, finally finding the confidence you’ve been looking for since you’ve arrived. And it works because he finally pushes himself away from the counter, straightening his posture, though he is still not turning around.

“I said… Because I don’t deserve it, just like I don’t deserve you.”

Anger is clawing up your spine again, you’re starting to be fed up with the same old shit you’re getting over and over again. So you suck it up and not gonna bulge until you make him understand that he is in the wrong.

“That’s fucking bullshit. We both know it is and I’m not gonna let you decide what I should be doing or what I deserve. It’s not your job to decide.”

“Well… that’s too bad,” he breathes out.

“You know what’s too bad? That I have to keep proving that I know what’s good for myself, that I know what makes me happy, and that is… that is you, Harry! You are the one I want, the one that makes me happy and nothing can change it, not even your stubborn ass! And fucking turn around when I’m talking to you!”

Now you’re shouting. You didn’t mean to, but it just happened and you couldn’t hold yourself any longer. But it finally get shim to move, he slowly turns around, his face coming to your sight and it breaks your heart again. See him so… not himself, the pain is evident, he is not even trying to hide it at this point. Taking a step forward you reach out, but he flinches away from your hand so you stop mid-action and pull your hand back.

“I know dad came to see you. He talked to me too. I know it’s hard to forget about everything he said, but I know he didn’t mean it. None of that was true. You are not taking my youth away, you’re not ruining anything for me and if you don’t believe me, you’re a fucking idiot. Because even after everything, I’m still choosing you, I’m still here, baring myself for you, even when you’ve been pushing away every chance you got. So now you’re gonna listen to me and if you dare to say you don’t want me even after that… I’m gonna leave you to be.”

Staring at him you wait for a reaction, any reaction and then… he finally nods. So taking a deep breath you start talking, even though you have no idea where to start or where to head. You just want to make things right.

“I thought that I knew what love was. I really did. I’ve loved a lot of things in my life and some people, even. But… none of that was like the way I feel about you, Harry. I fell in love with you harder and faster than ever and I’ve known it from the moment we finally let our guards down that this was what I’ve been looking for my whole fucking life! You make me happy, really, truly happy and it actually offends me that you don’t see it! You are… everything I need and want, Harry. I love waking up next to you, I love that you always take the time to make sure I eat in the morning. I love that you’re never busy to text me even on your roughest days. It makes me happy when you let me know you’re thinking about me, because I always think about you. Always. I love when you peek at me when we are out with others, always making sure I’m alright. I love how… how you look at me, how you talk to me and let me talk all my nonsense,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle. “I just love everything about you. And if you think that anything or anyone else is ever gonna make me happy the way you do… you are wrong.”

You take a deep breath, need to collect your thoughts a little especially when you see his eyes tearing up as he just stands there, staring back at you, completely frozen.

“Harry, do you think I’m smart?”

Your question catches him by surprise, you can tell, so it takes a few heartbeats for him to answer.

“Of course. You are… brilliant, Y/N.”

“Then why do you think I don’t know what’s good for me? Why do you keep making decisions for me?”

Tears run down his cheeks as he shakes his head, his lips trembling and you take this as you queue to finally close the distance between the two of you. Taking his face in your hands you could almost die from happiness when he doesn’t move away from you, instead, he melts into your touch.

“Harry, you make me happy. I love you and I know you love me too. Why are you trying to fight me on this? Why don’t you let us be happy, hm?”

“I just… I’m so afraid I’m gonna ruin this, Y/N. I don’t want to hurt you and I’m afraid that I’ll screw it up a-and that your dad’s gonna be right.”

“It’s not gonna happen, Harry,” you promise him, fighting your own tears with not much luck.

“But what if I do screw something up?”

“Then we’ll figure it out, okay? You and me, together. Probably I’ll screw things up, would you leave me because of that too if it was the other way around? Would you hate me?”

“Of course not. There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you, Y/N.”

“Well, that’s exactly how I feel about you, Harry,” you point out, pushing yourself up against him, needing to be as close to him as possible. “Don’t push me away. If you want me to be happy… that’s only gonna happen with you.”

He is fighting himself, hard. You can tell from the way he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. This is the moment, he is gonna decide whether he wants you or he is gonna push you away for good. The seconds turn into minutes and the longer the wait is, the more you’re starting to think that he’s gonna tell you to leave.

But then you feel his hands come up to hold your waist and in just a second, he wraps himself around you and you hold him just as tight, his face burying in your neck as he sobs against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh deep, but you don’t mind it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I love you. I love you so much…” he mumbles as you just hold him tight.

“I know. I love you too, Harry. I love you.” You mold into one big mess, but it doesn’t matter, because you got him back, he is in your arms, done with trying to run from you.

“I’m sorry for everything. You are… You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m never letting you go.”

You can’t help, but let out a happy laugh, even through your tears. Cupping his face you push him away just enough so you can look into his eyes.

“Alright, good. Because I have no idea what I would have done if you didn’t take me back,” you chuckle, wiping his cheeks with your palms.

“I’m glad you didn’t have to find it out,” he smiles and it warms your heart. “So you really want to be with me?”

“Harry, have you listened to what I just said?” you laugh in disbelief.

“I did, I just… It’s still a bit hard for me to believe that this is what you want. I mean… that you want me.”

“I would be stupid not to want you, Harry. You are… perfect.”

“Oh, I’m far from that,” he breathes out, his hand squeezing your waist.

“No, you’re perfect for me.”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments, just nods slowly, as if he is letting your words finally sink in.

“Well, I’ll try my best to give you everything you desire.”

“Already succeeded in that,” you smile at him, pulling him closer until your lips brush against his. “You are all I desire,” you whisper, before finally kissing him.

You didn’t think coming to the cabin nearing the end of October was gonna be a good idea, it can get way too cold for your liking, but now as you’re slowly waking up, a familiar warmth behind you, well, basically everywhere around you, it’s not that bad.

Blinking your eyes open you stare out the enormous windows facing the breathtaking view, but there’s another view you want to see more. Turning around in Harry’s arms you finally lay your eyes on him, his sleepy face mushed into the pillow, lips slightly parted, his curls all messy but cute. Your heart skips a beat, even after being with him for months. It’s still like the first time you woke up in his arms.

“You really should stop staring at me while I sleep,” he mumbles without even opening his eyes. His arms tighten around you as you giggle and kiss his soft lips leaning closer.

“Why? I like doing it.”

“S’ a little creepy,” he hums, his eyes finally opening and you see his green irises. “But it’s okay, I still love you.”

“Yeah? You do?” you grin at him, running a finger over the line of his nose and then his lips, as if you haven’t memorized every tiny detail about him already.

“I really do,” he smirks lazily, before leaning closer to kiss you softly. Then his head falls back into the pillow, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you remember the last time we were here?” you ask after a while. He doesn’t answer long enough to make you think he has fallen back asleep.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget about it,” he then finally answers. His eyes open again, this time staying like that as he studies your face. “Why are you asking?”

“I just feel nostalgic. Kind of feels like it was yesterday, but also like a lifetime ago.”

“A lot has happened since then,” he hums softly, his fingers delicately dancing on your naked back under the covers.

“Yeah,” you nod, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “But I would do it all over again just to get here.”

His lips part, but then close again, a soft smile tugging on the corners before he kisses you, this time dragging it out a little longer, taking his time with you. Simply, because he can. Because he has all the time in the world, because now he knows that you’re here to stay and nothing can ruin what you have.

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” he breathes against your lips, his words making you shiver right away.

“Well, I couldn’t just let go of a man who can finally handle me,” you chuckle, referring back to the conversation you had in this same cabin back then, when it all started.

Harry chuckles, pushing you to your back and getting on top of you.

“Oh, I’ll handle you, baby. I’ll handle you just right,” he grins, his lips devouring you already, showing you just how well he can handle you.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Fic Author Self-Recommendations

Tagged by the ever wonderful @starsandskies! Thank you! 🥰 Also reposting bc tunglr ate the tags and didn't seem to alert anyone. 😒

When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.

I don't have that many to choose from, since I have a handful I have more-or-less disavowed bc of that horrible author (yeah, you know who I'm talking about); one of my faves is a DA:I that's soooo close to being done but here we are; another is my corpo!Val fake relationship trope WIP/current obsession; and my other other favorite is the next in the Into My Arms series, which is languishing because of the previously mentioned obsession.

That leaves seven I have on AO3, but one is from the Lizzie's prompt event last year and is mostly drabbles, meaning I have to choose five of my six. But you know, one of the best pieces of writing advice I ever received was "kill your darlings," so here goes, in rough order of my faves.

Recs, tags, and more after the cut...

No One's Gonna Love You — Mitch/Val | explicit

“Hey, Mitch,” she says when he starts to turn.

Even though she has steeled herself for it, when she sees the spark of recognition cross his features and his lips start to quirk, her chest tightens and a warmth spreads from her cheeks to her belly.

“Heh, you’re back. Can’t get enough of me today.”

Blaze of Glory — Mitch & Val | mature

He hopes he’ll get a chance to explain himself to her—not like he’s ever got a shot with V; she’s too young, too pretty, too smart to get caught up with a washed-up-has-been-ex-military Nomad like him—but she should know the truth.

She should know the truth.

Mitch scoffs. Wants her to know the truth, more like. His truth, anyway because what’s the real truth? Besides, after so many retellings who’s to say how much of the truth is left. He’s told the story so many times the fabric has worn through, leaving patches that he reworks and rebuilds with each telling, each word a shimmering thread spun of truth and memory and bullshit.

Know Your Rights — River Ward & Jackie Welles | mature

“I know my rights, officer!” he grumbles, wishing he could kick the back of the pig’s seat but to do that would mean rolling over on his back to get his legs up and risking falling onto the floorboard with the piss and basura. Plus they’ll throw on a resisting charge, and probably assaulting an officer.

“Yeah, you do, because I gave ’em to you before I put you in the back of the car,” the cop says, glancing in the mirror and smirking. “But if you know your rights so well, tell me which one I’m violating.”

Cut Your Hair — Mitch/Val | mature

Today he shows with fifteen minutes on the clock, a cigarette dangling from his flesh fingers as he stands in the shade of the truck and grins up at her.

“Hey, darlin’.”

Stomach flipping, she grins back. “Hey, yourself. Still willing to risk your hair?”

“What’s left of it, you mean?” he asks with a grin, running a hand over his mess of hair and mussing it further.

Triangles — Mitch/Scorpion/Fem V | explicit

“Come on, guys! If I’d known—”

“If you’d known,” V says, mocking her. “You’re ditching us to get dicked down. Drinking with us was always your plan B, wasn’t it.”

“It’s really good dick!” Panam argues.

The two guys share a look and Mitch roars with laughter, and V rolls her eyes. “Whatever, bitch.”

“Call you tomorrow, V? Mitch, Scorpion, tell Saul I said fuck off.”

Tagging (with zero pressure as always!) @scorpioink77, @ravenstrange, @bnbc, @impishbiscuit, @rockerboyrepo, @tinmunky, @itsstillnunyabizu, @tafferling, and @dustymagpie (even though you've already been tagged 😘) That’s well more than five but I know so many talented writers and they all deserve more love! Also if you're in Lizzie's and you see this, feel free to consider yourself tagged!

Because the only thing I love more than writing is talking about writing, here’s some commentary on each of my picks.

No One’s Gonna Love You is my baby. While Goro might have gotten me to pick up my pen first, Mitch is the reason I felt the need to publish something for the first time in decades. It’s full of smut and angst and snappy banter, and I have never been prouder of anything I’ve written.

“Blaze of Glory” is a profoundly personal story. One day while playing through The Star ending for the umpteenth time researching, I tried to scan the panzer and instead scanned Mitch, and the results were deeply upsetting. I had to stop writing No One’s Gonna Love You and grapple with what I now know was randomly generated NCPD records, and I did that by writing this story. You’d think CDPR would be a little more intentional with things like that. Besides the personal nature of the fic, it has two sentences I’d put in my top 10 that I’ve ever written. I’ll let you guess which ones. 😂

“Know Your Rights” was my half of a trade with @steelphoto​ for this gorgeous drawing. I think I got the better half of the deal, but this story really pushed me to write two characters that I didn’t know that well. I owe so much to Steel for getting me to see past the little CDPR deigned to give us about both River and Jackie to appreciate them fully.

“Cut Your Hair” was supposed to be the first post-NOGLY oneshot but that got sidetracked because, well, things. Despite that, it’s still first in my heart because it’s my babies starting their lives together and learning who they are, both together and apart. (And yeah, that is a nod to Scorpio’s series Romance in the Badlands, which is one of the reasons I started writing again.)

“Triangles” was born out of the Lizzie’s prompt event last year, and it has two big firsts for me as an author: a threesome and M/M smut. (Which, how are six hands more than twice as hard to track as 4? It should only be 50% harder!) I might go back and rewrite it one day because it doesn’t have the polish of my other pieces, plus I still have another chapter to add to it, not to mention two more parts. Fun fact: I established the Mitch/Scorpion/V tag on AO3 with this piece. I also established the Mitch/Scorpion tag, technically with NOGLY but the chapter that first referenced their relationship came out after “Blaze of Glory.” In retrospect, it seems wild that I established both. I’ve never been a trendsetter before!

[hippolotamus]

wip wednesday!

tagged by @stereopticons ​, thank you 🥰 (how did you know I had feels I needed to make everyone else’s problem???)

Christopher sits tall and alert in his highchair, tracking Shannon’s movements as she sets the Sesame Street cake on the tray in front of him. God, when did he get so big? He giggles, the best sound Eddie thinks he’s ever heard, when she makes a funny face and blows the single candle out. 

Shannon’s bright smile quickly fades when Eddie’s mother swoops in, plucking the yellow and white 1, smoke still curling from the wick, out of the frosting. 

“Don’t want our little angel getting his hands on it,” Helena coos, touching the tip of a perfectly manicured nail to Christopher’s nose. He giggles again, grabbing for her finger, wrapping his tiny fist around it when he catches her. “No we don’t!”

“What are you doing?” Shannon asks, her jaw clenched, when Helena tries to take the cake off the highchair tray. “That is for Christopher.”

Helena visibly stiffens, turning to Shannon with a forced smile. “You’re going to let him have this whole thing? Is that what parents do now?” She turns to Sophia for support.

“Mama, don’t play dumb. You know that’s how it is.” Sophia rolls her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest. “I did it for both of mine. You and Dad were there. This is not new.” Eddie smiles privately, thanking whoever he needs to for his sister. 

Their mother lowers the cake, wrinkling her nose. “That’s right. Of course.” She plants a kiss on Christopher’s forehead before returning to her place next to Ramon. 

I’m sorry, Shannon mouths in Eddie’s direction. Her tense smile melts into something softer when Christopher smashes both hands into the cake, digging tiny fingers into the spongy treat. He raises a fistful to his mouth, going cross-eyed trying to keep his gaze on it. His faint eyebrows raise, apparently delighted by the taste, and he grabs for more. Blue, red, and yellow icing paints his cheeks and forearms, some even getting into his hair. For a moment the tension breaks, and warm laughter fills the room.

Then the screen freezes, eventually going dark in Eddie’s hands, reminding him that he’s thousands of miles away. If he didn’t already feel so painfully hollow, he thinks his heart might ache. It should. Just like I should be there with my wife and son. With my family. At least Christopher won’t remember him being missing. He’s young enough to not know any better. If Eddie can just keep himself alive for another two years, he’ll be rewarded with a lifetime of birthday celebrations. There’s still time to make up for the moments he’s only allowed through recordings and pixelated video calls. 

He swipes across the tablet, bringing the video up again, and presses play. It’s at least his fourth viewing, maybe more, he’s lost count. Eddie thinks, if he watches it enough, his brain might believe he was actually there. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only hope he has to hold onto. 

The rest of the unit is asleep, except for two keeping watch. He should sleep, too. His turn will come soon enough. Instead, Eddie keeps pressing play. Christopher smiles, and laughs, his eyes shining with unrestrained joy, never quite focusing where he’s looking. Shannon is happy, brings the cake, gets tense. His mother and father silently judge his wife. They’ve never pretended to like her. Maybe for a little while when they first started dating and thought she’d be gone just as quickly. Christopher giggles again, lightening up the mood, and the glaze of normalcy returns just before the image stills. 

Eddie sighs, and presses play again.

Tagging @rmd-writes @chelle-68 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @themelancholyvegetable @vanillahigh00 and anyone else who wants to 💙🦛