#I made way too many gifts for my ex and he didn’t appreciate any of them

[rosicheeks]

Forever in the mood to be swept off my feet by a cutie who is obsessed with me

[bisluthq]

I wouldn't put SLL nowhere near BTD. Like no way. If anything, it's the opposite to me. She spends the whole album trying to justify why she left and the Matty of it all, by throwing him and staining their relationship under the bus. She doesn't assume any share of blame for doing anything wrong. I was expecting or atleast wanting music in the vibes of happiness as in we had a good thing, it didn't work out so let me be mature and admit we both hurt each other. And because of the 7 year mention, I'm going to pretend that was actually the mature song we got about them. HDIE is a bit better than SLL to me in this regard, but still not exactly

I don't see any accountability in SLL. She blames him for their fallout and nowhere does she say maybe I did this and I shouldn't have. I like the song, but the whole time she's like poor me couldn't do anything else while you didn't do this and that and that. I'm still waiting for a self awareness song, where she does admit that it wasn't only Joe who commited mistakes in the relationship she did too. The whole album to me was the same premise of HI where she's basically I had to cheat cause you didn't love me enough. Well sucks to be you 🤷 and the thing is I bet that's what she would do, because she's that predictable

well yea because I think she genuinely thinks he DID make her cheat by not loving her enough lmao. My ex really hates the song tolerate it because of the line “I know my love should be celebrated” because she’s like “… but why tho???” And I do get that criticism of even that song. There’s a degree of sense of entitlement in a lot of Taylor’s songs like “I like/love you ergo you should like/love me back the way *I* want you to” which isn’t necessarily the most healthy way to look at things because people can’t necessarily feel the things you want them to or even if they feel them, they cannot always express them the way you want them to.

I think love languages are a bit of bullshit pop psychology when taken far because obviously we all want all of them lmao??? but that’s one thing where I do think there’s some truth to the bullshit in that the way we express affection isn’t always the stuff the other person wants/needs from us and we don’t always express ourselves in the way we want to have it expressed to us also.

Like my partner definitely appreciates Acts of Service most of all and it took me ages to realize that. But for him like the most romantic thing I can do is sort shit out in the house and go fill up the cars and make sure there’s food in the fridge and stuff. I’m kinda nihilistic and spur of the moment and also yk clinically depressed and that one shrink did say I have PDA so that’s probably the hardest way for me to express affection. Now that I know this about him, I do generally speaking try, but historically like idk what’s for dinner and I don’t know how much petrol’s in the car and I’ll cross those bridges if/when I get there and the joke is when we first started up I thought he also just genuinely didn’t give a fuck because I honestly don’t lol and we’re pretty similar personality wise. Turns out he does. We figured this out actually when I had flu one time and I was in bed all day and he went to the pharmacy without me asking him to and made a bunch of food and like brought me extra blankets all without me… asking for this shit. And I was like “dope” and carried on fucking around on my phone and a few days later he brought it up because it had genuinely upset him that he’d tried SO hard in the exact way he’d like me to try and I hadn’t even noticed. He spent that weekend, from his perspective, watching me tolerate it whereas I’d felt like *I* watched him tolerate it when I’d tried to gift him things for instance and he didn’t seem appreciative enough. Now tbf I don’t *want* many gifts either but that’s how I was expressing it and I’d repeatedly felt like he didn’t care enough about the effort I’d put in to buy him things or pay for things. I also felt like he wasn’t giving me any Words of Affirmation which is actually what I appreciate the most so I want to hear about how much I’m loved and how great I am a lot and he never said anything like that but not because he didn’t/doesn’t feel it - just because that’s not important to him. We figured THAT out because I wrote him this very pretty letter as an apology once that I worked really hard on and he actually explicitly said like “but these are just words - you can say you love me but it’s just words”. So we were both sitting back watching the other person tolerate it and feeling hard done by because of what essentially boiled down to lack of communication on both our parts. Cool realizations and have, along with therapy, improved things.

THAT is what I feel is missing in Taylor’s songs (including happiness even but that’s also because it’s not from her POV lol and she cannot for a minute relate I think) and why they feel so immature - there’s no real sense of “I really fucking tried to meet you where you needed me but it still unfortunately didn’t work out” ever. Her stance is “I am amazing and I’m trying so hard and FUCK YOU for not giving me what I want and no I’m not gonna tell you what that is because if you were my true soulmate you’d instinctively know” which like… isn’t how it works. And I think until Taylor comes to those realizations herself, she’s not going to write lyrics like that. Which is great for US because sometimes you just feel sad and mad and entitled to your disappointment and Taylor’s music makes you feel better in that moment but isn’t really the healthiest approach to take.

even BTD like she says she fucked up by dipping and she feels bad about that but it’s still, in a way, expecting him to just be like “no sweat, totally see what you did there” and doesn’t really leave that much room for what he’s feeling or thinking because she’s like “your guard is up and *I* know why” and no u actually don’t babe lol idk.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Four (Harry Styles)

a/n: happy TLABL day!! can’t believe we are already on part 4! im not sure if part 5 will be the last part, im still very much writing the rest so we’ll see! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, i love reading your reactions! feedback is very much appreciated this time as well!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck or at least consumed a whole bottle of tequila. Your head is pounding and it’s probably with all the crying and stress, so you are quick to take some pills to ease the pain. Sitting on the edge of your bed you stare ahead of you blankly, trying to gain power to start the day.

Though today is Sunday, so you are not working, you’re still worried to face Harry after whatever it was that happened last night. What were you thinking, kissing your boss out of the blue? And what was he thinking kissing you for the second time? It kind of feels like a dream, but you know it really did happen.

You try to stay in your room as long as possible, avoiding to face Harry, but soon enough you can’t postpone it any longer, because you are starving. Peeking out of your room you hear voices coming from downstairs and as you reach the stairs you recognize not just Harry’s and Izzy’s voice, but Niall’s as well.

Arriving downstairs you see Niall and Izzy sitting on the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is cleaning the dishes after their breakfast probably. He is wearing a pair of light-washed jeans and a black hoodie, the sleeves bunched around his elbows. He looks so casual and yet just looking at him makes your heart skip a beat. You are in some big trouble.

Niall spots you first and he perks up waving in your way happily.

“Good morning, Y/N!” he beams, his accent sounds so comforting in such a stressful moment, for some reason.

“Hi, good morning,” you breathe out. Harry turns around, his eyes fall on you and a shiver runs down your spine. He just looked at you and you already want to run away and hide in your room a little longer.

“Morning,” he greets you with a nod before turning back to the sink to finish the dishes.

“Daddy and Uncle Niall are taking me to the park! We are picking Yara up too!” Izzy shares the news with you excitedly.

“Oh, that sounds great!” you smile at her, giving her cheek a gentle pinch before moving to the fridge.

“Do you want to come?” she invites you and your eyes immediately flicker over to Harry who looks at you the exact same time, making your stomach drop right away.

“Um, I have some work to do, maybe some other time,” you smile at Izzy, grabbing yourself a yoghurt and a banana before shutting the fridge closed.

“So how was yesterday?” Niall asks and you freeze. Does he know what happened? Did Harry tell him about last night?

Niall sees your frightened look to which he shoots you a confused one.

“The wedding, Harry told me earlier you had a wedding yesterday.”

“Oh, it went… fine,” you nod shortly, peeking at Harry who is now staring down at his feet awkwardly. This was starting to get painfully ridiculous, the two of you dancing around each other, pretending like you weren’t down each other’s throats just a few hours prior.

“Alright, let’s leave, we need to pick Yara up in twenty,” Harry claps his hands. Izzy jumps off the stool and takes Niall’s hand as they all head out of the house. “We’ll probably have lunch somewhere and then go grocery shopping, so we’ll be away for a while,” he informs you without looking your way before leaving without even waiting for any reaction from you.

Yeah, this was straight up the most awkward conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Here, Izzy. Play some games on my phone!” Niall passes his phone to her with a sweet smile, but Harry smacks his bicep.

“What are you doing? She has enough screen time already!”

“Yeah, but I needed her to be busy so I can ask you what the fuck was that in the house.”

Harry curls his lips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him as he tries to come up with a good answer, but he knows he could never fool his best friend.

“Don’t stop, even if she is busy with the phone,” Harry scolds him, glancing at Izzy through the mirror, but she doesn’t seem to be listening to them. Niall rolls his eyes, but lets his words uncommented. “Besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, you exactly know it. You and Y/N were like scared little bunnies around each other. She looked like she was about to faint any moment when you looked at her.”

“Maybe she was just tired,” he shrugs, but Niall laughs at his weak attempt to fool him.

“Now tell me the real reason, I know something happened.”

Harry chews on his bottom lip, debating whether he should come clean or not, but he knows Niall won’t leave him until he finally tells him so he is not left with many choices.

“We kissed.”

“What?!” Niall snaps, a little louder than Harry expected, his voice makes him flinch. “Sorry, that was a little too dramatic, but what the fuck? Why were you keeping this from me?!”

“Because I knew this is how you’d react,” Harry mumbles under his breath. “And… I don’t think it will ever happen again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Harry sighs. “She came home late, pretty upset because she met with her ex at the wedding.”

“The one that cheated on her?”

“Mhm. The dude was an asshole and… she was crying in the kitchen when I came down. We sat on the couch, talked, I tried to calm her down and all that and then… she kissed me.”

“Wait, she kissed you? Wow, she’s got balls!” Niall laughs.

“Yeah, but it was, like, really short and she pulled back, shocked at herself for doing it. I think it was just all the emotions that got her a little confused. But then she tried to apologize and… and I kissed her.”

“What?! Oh my God!” Niall’s mind is blown and he doesn’t even tries to hide his excitement hearing the news about last night. “Was there tongue?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry scowls. “I’m not sharing the details with you.”

“Okay, but was it like a solid, short kiss or you guys went right at it?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but it tells enough about the situation and Niall can’t help but whistle as he claps his hands.

“Stop acting like a horny teenager, Niall,” Harry growls rolling his eyes at his friend.

“So you guys snogged, what’s the matter with that?”

“It got awkward. We just pulled back and I think we both were pretty shocked about it and… she just stood up and said that she is going to bed. End of story. And then you were there in the morning, so… yeah.”

“Tell me why the hell we are heading to a playdate then when you should be talking to her?” Niall asks, arching an eyebrow at Harry.

“There’s not much to talk about. It just happened in the heat of the moment, that’s all,” Harry shrugs, but deep down he knows it’s a blatant lie. At least on his side.

Unlike you, who fell asleep right away, Harry spent about an hour lying in his bed wide awake, not able to think about anything else but your lips on his. He replayed the whole thing in his head about a million times, he was starting to feel ashamed of it, but he just couldn’t stop.

Your abrupt leaving left him puzzled and he thought long and hard about why you felt the need to run away. The only thing that made sense to him is that you regretted it the moment it happened, that it really did just happen in the heat of the moment so Harry thought it’s best to act like it didn’t even happen.

“Please don’t be an ass and just… talk to her. We both know we can never know for sure what a woman thinks about. You can’t just assume and think that your assumption is one hundred percent right.”

“I find it funny that you’re such an expert in this stuff, but you haven’t had a stable relationship since like, we finished college,” Harry scoffs as he takes the corner and starts driving down the street to Yara’s moms’ house.

“Me not having a relationship doesn’t mean that I’m not good at them. It’s a choice,” Niall smirks.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“But back to the topic, you wanted to kiss her, right?”

“I mean, yeah? It kinda threw me off as well, but it was… nice.”

“Please don’t refer to a kiss as nice again,” Niall gags, but Harry just chuckles at him. “A kiss is hot, passionate, pant tighteni—“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Harry cuts him, earning a cackle from him.

“Just talk to her, don’t be a pussy.”

“I really do need better friends,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he pulls up to the driveway.

You really didn’t feel like staying home alone in that big ass house so you invited yourself over for an early dinner to your mom’s. You haven’t been over since the little fiasco with Trevor so you thought it might be a good idea to spend some time with them. Trevor said they’ve been trying to keep the fighting down to the minimum and not let it turn into a screaming match, so your speech worked after all.

It’s past three o’clock when you leave, no sign of Harry or Izzy and you feel like they won’t be back for a while either, so you lock everything up and head out.

You have a genuinely good time. It’s obvious that your mom feels guilty about her past behavior and is trying to lure you into forgiving her, though you already did that. But you’re happy your little speech worked. At least Trevor can have his peace now.

After dinner your mom disappears in her room and then returns with a nicely wrapped box and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Mom, I told you I don’t need gifts.” You give her a look. Your birthday is coming up next week, but you were never the kind to celebrate. You never felt comfortable with all the attention and fuss birthdays come with, so you’ve always liked to keep it down. These past years you didn’t even ask for anything, though your parents never listened and this year doesn’t seem like an exception either.

“Oh hush. You can’t expect me not to celebrate my baby!” she shakes her head, sitting back to the dining table. “And besides, I didn’t pay a dollar for it,” she then adds and now you’re curious what she got you.

Removing the lid of the box you peek inside and your lips immediately part as you see the stack of polaroids inside.

“I know how much you like old photos and when we sold Grandma’s house back in August, I found these in my old room. I got a polaroid camera for graduation, just in time to take tons of pictures of you,” she explains with a soft chuckle as you start going through the pictures from when you were born and the next few years. Whenever you are done looking at a photo you hand it to Trevor so he can take a look at them too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these, mom?” you ask glancing up at her over the stack.

“I took out a few for myself,” she admits with a sneaky smile. “You can have the rest, I know how much you love these stuff.”

“Thank you, mom,” you smile at her, hugging her from the side, feeling touched by this gift.

It’s nearing eight when you arrive back home, the lights are still up and if you had to guess you’d say that Harry is trying to tire Izzy out enough to put to bed, as usual. Walking in, your guess is proven right, the TV is on in the living room while Harry is sitting on the couch, Izzy all over him in her pink pajamas, playing around with his hair like she always does.

“Hi Y/N!” she calls out happily when she spots you.

“Hi Sunshine, did you have a good time today?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I did! And guess what!”

“What?”

“Yara invited me over for a sleepover!” she beams, clearly ecstatic about the invitation.

“That’s amazing!”

“What’s that?” she curiously asks pointing at the gift box in your hands. Harry turns to see you, his eyes falling on the box as well.

“Oh, it’s a gift I got from my mom,” you explain, stepping closer.

“Is it your birthday?” she questions, knitting her eyebrows together.

“No, not yet. But it will be next week,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Really? Are you having a birthday party?” she gasps, getting way too excited already. Harry eyes you without a word, holding Izzy by her hips so she is not losing her balance standing on the cushion of the couch.

“I’m not, sorry. I don’t like having birthday parties,” you pout at her apologetically.

“Oh, okay. Can I see what you got from your mom?”

“Izzy, don’t be nosy,” Harry warns her, but you just smile at the curious girl.

“Sure,” you nod, joining them on the couch. You sit on the opposite end than where Harry is, Izzy in the middle as she watches the box in awe. You set it down to the cushion and take the lid off, revealing the stack of photos.

“What are these?”

“They are called polaroids. They are old pictures, taken with a special camera that kind of prints the picture out right away,” you explain to her as she takes the first photo from the top, a picture of your mom holding you as a newborn. She was so young, practically a child herself, yet her pride was undeniable, it shone all over her face.  You spot Harry looking at the picture as well over Izzy’s shoulder, still keeping his silence.

“Who are these people?”

“That’s my mom and that’s me as a baby. And… this is my dad,” you hold up another photo that features your dad.

“They really were young when they had you,” Harry speaks up for the first time, surprised by the photos.

“Yeah, they were.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Izzy questions, dropping the photo back into the box as she leans back to lie on Harry’s chest.

“Not sure yet. I might make an album from them,” you shrug. “I really like polaroids, I love that they are one of a kind.”

Izzy nods, though you’re not sure she understood what you meant by that. Fidgeting with her fingers she pushes down a yawn and Harry takes that as a good sign.

“Alright, time for bed, Love. Say good night to Y/N.” He picks her up as he stands from the couch. Izzy waves at you smiling with tired eyes.

“Night-night, Y/N,” she singsongs as Harry carries her towards the stairs.

Putting the pictures back into the box you head into your bedroom too, feeling like the time when you and Harry talk about what happened yesterday will never come. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so you’ll just let it slip. It happened just in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a thing, you better forget about it.

After a speedy shower you are getting ready to just go to bed, read some and have a relaxing evening, something you didn’t have the luck to have the day before. But right as you’re about to make yourself comfortable in bed, there’s a knock on your door.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you open it and find Harry standing in the hallway.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping already.”

“No. Come on in,” you invite him inside and he walks in. As he awkwardly stops in the middle of the room you realize he hasn’t even been in here since you’ve moved in. He takes a look around, examining what you’ve done with the room and you feel thankful you decided to put your laundry away just yesterday, so no dirty underwear is littering the floor anywhere.

“How can I help you?” you ask with a soft smile.

“I, erm… I just wanted to clear some things,” he starts, clearly feeling nervous about the conversation and that makes the two of you for sure. Nodding you let him know that you’re waiting for him to carry on. “What happened yesterday…” he starts and your breath gets caught in your throat. “You were very emotional, a lot happened and it was a very confusing moment probably for the both of us. I really like working with you, I’m very happy with the way you’ve been taking care of Izzy and I would hate to ruin it with anything.”

You can feel your stomach dropping even though you were bracing yourself for this version of the situation. It was very likely that Harry would want to keep things professional, like before, but it still makes you feel like shit.

“I’m sorry for stepping over some boundaries, but I really hope that… we can put it behind us and that we can move on.”

He is using his business tone. It’s the same tone he used with Sarah and his assistants and now he is using it to talk about the kiss that happened between the two of you.

“Sure,” you answer quietly nodding. “Moving on sounds… great,” you nod, forcing a smile to your face, but it couldn’t be more fake.

Harry nods as he runs his tongue over his lips, looking around a little awkwardly now that it’s been discussed.

“Alright, then… good night, Y/N,” he nods in your way before heading towards the door.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble after him as he walks out and closes the door behind him.

As soon as you are on your own, you let out a shaky breath, falling to your bed, lips trembling as you try to even make out what you’re feeling. Because part of you is glad he didn’t make a fuss about it and you didn’t lose your job, that’s great news. But another part, which is vehemently bigger than the first one is upset and sad and… disappointed?

You were hoping it meant something for him, you wanted him to want it, to feel the same craving for you as you feel towards him, because you haven’t really stopped thinking about what his lips felt like against yours, what it was like when his fingers dug into your thigh, how it sent a shiver down your spine when his tongue met yours.

But this conversation just made it awfully clear that he wants nothing to do with you. And it hurts probably more than it should.

 Harry doesn’t get too far from your door when he feels the all too familiar pain in his chest he has been forced to live with these past over three years. It’s like something is gripping his heart and lungs in his chest so tight, even breathing is a hard task.

Rushing into his bedroom he closes the door behind him and slides down to the floor as the tears flood from his eyes. The past twenty-four hours have been rough on him, the guilt has been growing immensely since he let himself slip and give in for his desires and eventually kiss you.

It’s not that he didn’t want it. Because he’d be lying if he said it meant nothing to him and that he hasn’t been craving it these past weeks.

But his guilt, this evil little voice in the back of his head wouldn’t let him enjoy it even the slightest.

How dare you kiss another woman after your wife? Are you insane? You don’t deserve to feel this way with anyone else. Not when you were the reason your wife ended up dead!

Heartbreaking sobs escape from his chest as he pushes himself up from the floor and heads into the bathroom. He strips out of his clothes leaving them all in a pile on the marble tiled floor before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water pour down on him, almost burning his skin, but he doesn’t change the temperature, as if he was trying to punish himself. His salty tears mix with the water as he stands still, chest heaving as his vivid memories from that night come crashing down on him all at once.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment now? Really?” Harry sighed at his wife when she failed to answer his question about the whereabouts of his sweatpants. Maggie sat on the bed with the recent maternity book she’d been reading these past days, not even paying her husband a look at his question.

“Mags, for fuck’s sake, I’m not in the mood to play this game right now,” Harry sighed in defeat. Maggie looked up at him, closed the book slowly and put it aside to the bedside table.

“So the question of expanding our family is just a game to you?” she asked calmly, but her anger and disappointment in her husband was soaking through her tone.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“No, you are not talking about anything, because you refuse to have a fucking conversation with me!” she retorted, letting all her bottled up anger out that’d been boiling inside her.

“I already told you that I can’t think about having another baby right now. Izzy is only six, I’m in the middle of a huge project, I don’t have the capacity to think about having another baby, Maggie. I thought I made it clear, why are you still onto me then?”

“Because it’s not something we can put aside for too long! I don’t want to have another baby when I’m in my mid-thirties, but if we go with your plan, we won’t even have another one!” Maggie jumped to her feet, pacing the floor back and forth next to their bed as Harry stood with his hands on his hips, getting irritated that they were fighting over the same thing again.

“I never said we can’t have another baby, but why can’t we wait a little? When Izzy is older and more independent? Do you have any idea how hard it is to take care of a baby and a toddler? It’s a fucking nightmare!” Harry growled rolling his eyes.

“So our family is just a pain in the ass for you?” Maggie questioned, folding her arms on her chest and she was really getting on Harry’s nerves, twisting his words completely.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “All I’m asking for is you to be a little patient and give me some time!”

“I don’t have time, Harry! I want it as soon as possible!”

“Why are you so fucking difficult?” Harry groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Why can’t you wait just… one year at least? Is that too much to ask?”

“And is it too much to ask to focus on your family? We are supposed to come first!” she turned it back around and Harry was not having the dirty games she was playing, putting all the blame on him when she could have been a little more understanding as well. He was feeling like his opinion was put aside and didn’t matter at all.

“You do come first, you don’t have the right to question that.” Harry pointed at Maggie, his blood practically boiling at this point.

“Then why do I feel like work is always more important to you?”

“What are you talking about? You know I’m home as much as I can, but we still need the fucking money, Maggie! Or how do you plan on paying the bills of this fucking mansion?!”

“I don’t need a mansion! I just need my family and that’s all!” she argued, but Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“Well you seem to enjoy this mansion a lot when you sit by the pool and watch movies in the fucking movie theater in your own home!” he snapped back feistily. “Stop acting like I don’t do shit for our family when I work my ass off to provide the best possible life. And all I’m asking for in return is some fucking time before we bring another baby into the picture!”

“You are so fucking unbelievable,” Maggie shook her head as she marched past him, walking away from the fight that just grinded his gears even more.

Just as Harry was about to go after her, he heard the faint crying through the baby monitor. Groaning he headed into Izzy’s room and as he took her out of her crib, he heard the front door open and shut.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” he cooed, hugging the crying little girl to his chest who clung onto him immediately. Even at such a young age, Izzy was already a daddy’s little girl.

Soon her cries died down to just little hiccups as Harry soothed her, patting her bum and back gently as he moved around the room. Holding Izzy in one arm he grabbed his phone with his free hand and typed a message to his wife.

Harry: Where did you go?!

Maggie: I’m going over to my sister’s. Don’t wait up, might get home late.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. She called him out for running away from the conversation, but when they were finally talking about it she just decided to disappear when it didn’t head in the direction she wanted, seeking comfort at her sister, as always.

He managed to lull Izzy back to sleep, putting her back to her crib before going back to the bedroom. As time passed by and he calmed down more and more he wished Maggie was home so they could talk about it without jumping at each other’s throat. There had to be a compromising way to solve the situation that would be fine for the both of them.

Harry: Please come home and let’s talk about it.

Maggie: So you can bite my head off again?!

Harry: Mags, please. You have to understand my point of view too!

Maggie: I understand it, but I don’t agree with it. And you don’t seem to understand mine…

Harry: I do, but there are more things to consider. Please come home, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone!

Maggie: Okay, I’m heading home now.

Harry put his phone down to the nightstand with a long sigh, already tired from everything that happened that day and he knew this conversation would be a hard one too, but they needed to be on the same page when it came to their family.

It was late getting late and Harry grew a little more restless with each passing moment. Paisley, Maggie’s sister lived about thirty minutes away from them and it’d been forty minutes since she sent her last text. At first he figured she maybe stayed and talked for a little longer with Paisley, or stopped for some fast food which he knew she liked so much whenever she was upset, but when an entire hour passed by he was getting worried.

He kept sending her texts that didn’t even get delivered and when he tried to call it went straight to her voicemail. Harry was losing his shit so he decided to call Paisley to see if she knew anything about her.

“She hasn’t arrived home yet?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“No, and she is not answering my calls and texts. When did she leave from yours?”

“A long time ago. Almost right away when you texted her to go home.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, anxiously pacing the floor as he held the phone to his ear. “Okay, can you please call your parents in case she went there for whatever reason? I’ll try her friends.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me know if you got a hold of her,” Paisley told him before they ended the call.

Harry was scrolling through his contacts, trying to decide who Maggie would go to first in this situation and just as he was about to call the first person, his phone started ringing with an unknown number.

“Hello?” he answered the call unsurely, his heart beating fast in his chest as he stood in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Harry Styles?” a male voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, it’s me. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Officer Field speaking. You were listed as the emergency contact for your wife, Margaret Linn Styles.”

Blood rushed out of Harry’s face faster than he could even process what was happening. He stood completely frozen, his hands were getting clammy as he started sweating as if he just ran the marathon.

“What happened?” he asked weakly, barely even finding his own voice.

“Mr. Styles, I have bad news…”

Harry makes his way down to the entertainment room, walking like a zombie, only thinking about the bottle of vodka that sits in the minibar down there. Following his skin burning shower he tried to go to bed, but his head was starting to spin from everything that’s been swirling in his mind and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop it if he didn’t numb himself somehow. Unfortunately, his only way of doing it has been drinking, nothing seemed to help him the way alcohol did and though he knew he should never solve any of his problems with drinking, he still couldn’t help himself sometimes. When the pain was growing immensely, taking over his whole body, he chose the easiest way to get rid of the guilt or at least stop himself from… feeling.

Grabbing the bottle from the mini fridge he snatches himself a glass as well, not drinking straight from the bottle at least, and plopping himself down to the couch he pours a generous glass, drinking it without any chaser.

He winces as the alcohol burns down his throat, but at least it’s a different kind of pain, that takes the focus away from the one he is feeling in his chest.

One glass chases the other and since he is not particularly used to the heavy drinking, he is more like the ‘let’s nurse this pint for an hour’ type of guy, the raw vodka kicks in pretty quickly.

 But he is not the only one who can’t fall asleep tonight.

You tried everything in your power to end your misery and finally fall asleep, but your mind and body was plotting against you and made you toss and turn until you couldn’t take it any longer. Making a good cup of tea seemed like a good idea, so you headed down the kitchen.

As you round the corner after the stairs and you’re about to walk into the kitchen, you notice how the lights are on down in the entertainment room. You stop in your tracks and try to think back if anyone was there before you went upstairs, but you don’t think it was the case.

You figure since there are only two adults living in the house, it must be Harry down there and right now, facing him doesn’t sound like a good idea, so you decide to leave him be, but that’s when you hear the voice of some kind of glass breaking, followed by a heavy accented cursing and it changes your mind right away.

“Harry?” you softly call out as you walk down the stairs, not sure what to expect down there. He is crouching down, his back in your direction as he is trying to get the pieces of the broken glass up from the floor, but he is too disoriented to succeed in the task and it’s obvious that an injury is deemed to happen sooner or later.

“Harry, you’re gonna cut yourself!” you warn him, and walking over to him you pull him up from his squatting position and when he looks at you is when you realize that he is drunk out of his mind.

“Y/N, oh shit, did I—Did I wake you up?” he slurs, knitting his eyebrows together as he tries to focus his vision on you.

“You didn’t, but let me just—Why don’t you sit down for a moment while I clean this up, huh?” you suggest, pulling him towards the couch, making him sit. He falls to the cushion like dead weight, letting out a tired sigh while you rush to get a broom and a dustpan to get rid of the broken glass on the floor as fast as possible before someone cuts themselves.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he breathes out closing his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll just clean it up quickly,” you assure him, getting down to business.

“Not about the g-glass. Well, about that as well…”

“Then why are you sorry?” you ask, as you sweep the shards onto the dustpan and throw them into the closest trashcan.

“About being… a pain in the ass,” he hiccups.

“You are not a pain in the ass,” you chuckle softly as you sit beside him.

“I am. I fucked things up,” he nods with a painful expression all over his handsome face.

“What do you mean?” You know you shouldn’t make him talk in this state, but you can’t help your curiosity. It seems like drunkenness makes his tongue run wild and you are desperate for the tiniest crumble of information about what’s going on in his head.

“I just… I kissed you,” he breathes out, his eyes popping open, but he is staring at the ceiling, not you.

“And?” you ask, trying to act cool, though your pulse is rapidly increasing.

“And I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh.” You lick your lips and try not to show how much that hurt. But even drunk, Harry notices the disappointment in your tone. His glassy eyes snap over to you and his face falls right away.

“That’s not how I mean it!” he gasps, reaching for your hand and you’re surprised by the sudden physical touch, but it feels kind of nice, so you let him hold your hand between his arm palms. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it, because fucking hell, it was amazing!” he bluntly tells you and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you tell me all of that in my room just earlier now?”

Harry pulls his hands back and moves his arms across his face, covering his eyes as he slides down the couch, his legs spreading out in front of him. He lets out a shaky whimper and seeing him like this worries you a lot. Harry is always in control, he has never let him fall apart like this before.

“Because… I don’t deserve to feel this way,” he confesses, confusing you even more. What is he talking about?

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shakes his head under his arms, biting into his bottom lip as he inhales deeply, like he is trying to keep something inside, something you shouldn’t know about, but now you are desperate to find it out.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he breathes out, letting his arms fall to his sides, but he keeps his eyes closed, shutting you out in a way. “I don’t deserve to have these feelings,” he repeats again and it appears he is more likely talking to himself, rather than to you.

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, because if I did, you’d never be able to look at me again.”

Now he is crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are trembling and you’ve never seen him in such a vulnerable state and quite frankly, it scares you. You knew him to be a strong and stable man, but now he resembles a frightened little boy, so lost in this big world.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that bad, Harry.”

“It is,” he winces, as if it’s causing him physical pain to even talk about it.

“Harry…” You breathe out and moving closer you place a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turns to face you, his eyes all watered and glistening, he looks so heartbroken, it almost pains you as well.

“Promise me you won’t see me as a monster,” he whispers.

“I-I promise,” you nod, already bearing yourself for the worst, judging from the look on his face.

Taking a deep breath he looks around, as if he is making sure no one else is listening. Then his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap, he fidgets with his fingers, his tongue running along his pink lips before he takes a deep breath and speaks up again.

“Maggie’s death… It was all my fault. I fucking… killed my own wife.”

His voice dies down at the end of the sentence, staring into the void, completely zoned out as you sit beside him, shocked at his words. This was not exactly what you were expecting him to say. Harry starts sobbing again, the hot tears running down his cheeks as he starts crying and panic sets in you. He is so out of his own world, you have no idea what’s happening to him. Rushing over to the mini fridge, you grab a water for him, thinking it might help him at least after all the alcohol he has consumed.

“Here, drink some water,” you softly tell him, taking the cap off as you hand him the bottle. He takes it with a shaky hand and raising it to his trembling lips he takes a few small sips. “Harry, what do you mean it was your fault?” you ask, knowing well you probably shouldn’t push it, but you can’t just ignore what he said.

“Exactly what I said,” he sobs shaking his head vigorously. “It was all my fault, I was a fucking coward and that’s why she died! I could have stopped her! I should have gone after her!”

He is not answering you, not entirely. He is speaking thoughts that have been planted in his head a long time ago and they seem to be on repeat whenever he is feeling down. As much as you want to get more details out of him, he needs to rest, especially because he is working in the morning.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, H,” you tell him as you stand up and reach out for him to help him to his unsteady feet. It turns out to be a little harder than you expected, but you manage to get him up from his sitting position, and throwing one of his arms over your shoulders you start to walk him up towards his bedroom.

“You fucking hate me now, don’t you?” he slurs, his other hand reaching out towards the wall to steady himself a little more.

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“But you think I’m a monster, right?”

“I’m not sure I know enough to think anything about you. This is a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” you suggest and he huffs.

“M’sorry for getting drunk in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. But I think you’ll have a mean headache in the morning,” you tease him as you finally reach the upstairs and head down the hallway towards his room.

“You’re a fucking angel, Y/N. You know that?” He just keeps talking and talking and you find it funny how different he is from his reserved and quiet self in this state.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. You are so good to my daughter and to me as well… I really don’t get why your fucker ex cheated on you,” he huffs and you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. “What was his name? Kyle?”

“Keith,” you correct him.

“That fucker, Keith!” he spats making you laugh as you push his bedroom’s door open and walk him inside finally. “I bet he had a small dick.”

“Why does that matter,” you chuckle, making him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Because guys with small dicks are always out of touch with themselves. They think they are just better than everyone for some reason.”

“Do you have any scientific research to prove that?” you tease him as you push him down, tugging him under the covers, like a little kid.

“No, I just… know shit,” he sighs, his eyes falling closed the moment his head rests on the pillow.

“Alright. You can tell me more about what else you know when you’re sober. Now get some sleep, because you have work in the morning.”

You make sure he lies on his side as he hums his response. Reaching down you brush his messy curls out of his forehead as he breathes out harshly through his nose, probably about to fall asleep any moment.

Tapping on the screen of his phone on the nightstand you make sure that he has set up his alarm and you see the little alarm clock icon at the top bar so you are just about to walk out when you turn back around.

Seeing how he pushed so many things down inside of him, you’re not convinced he’ll be willing to give you the answers you are looking for. You’re afraid he might talk himself out and give you some kind of bullshit answer, so reaching for his phone you sneakily take his thumb and open the device, all whilst he doesn’t even move an inch.

Scrolling through his contacts you find Niall’s number and send it over to yourself before deleting the message so you leave no trail behind. You set the phone back to his nightstand and head out finally, going to bed as well, right after sending Niall a quick message.

Y/N: Hi! It’s Y/N, I got your number from Harry’s phone. Can you come by sometime tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something.

When you come down in the morning it’s pretty obvious that even though Harry had his alarm on, he snoozed one too many times and now he is in a rush, trying to get everything done and leave on time.

“Good morning,” you greet him and Izzy upon walking into the kitchen. Harry’s head snaps up from the half-made breakfast in front of him and judging by his expression, he more or less remembers what happened last night. “Rough morning?” you ask teasing him to ease the tension.

“Uh, yeah. Woke up a little late,” he nods, finishing up Izzy’s sandwich just the way she likes, without the crust on before handing it over to her. Izzy grabs the plate and marches over to the dining table, quietly munching on her food while Harry quickly tries to make himself a coffee, but he is a hot mess, still in his night clothes when he is supposed to leave in about ten minutes.

“I’ll make you the coffee, go and get changed,” you offer, taking over the machine.

“Oh, thank you,” he nods and for a change, he doesn’t try to argue with you, he just disappears upstairs.

You make his coffee just as he likes and leave it on the counter for him before joining Izzy at the table with your own breakfast. She is babbling about how excited she is for her piano lesson today, because she’s been practicing a lot lately. When Harry appears again he is dressed for work, but still looks a little disoriented.

“Hey,” you softly say as you join him in the kitchen.

“Hey, thank you for the coffee,” he nods, moving around the kitchen.

“No problem. How are you feeling?” you ask, hoping you’re not crossing any boundaries. Harry opens his mouth to answer, but then closes, probably not sure how much he should share, though he didn’t have too much problem with that last night.

“I’m… A little hangover, but I’m… fine,” he nods shortly. “Y/N, about last night, I—“

“We can talk about it later, okay? Don’t stress about it.” You give him a reassuring smile and you can tell he is sort of relieved he doesn’t have to have this conversation right in this moment.

“Thank you.”

“No worries. And I’ll clean up in the kitchen, don’t be late,” you smile at him warmly. You can tell he wants to protest, but he also knows he is running late so he doesn’t have much choice.

“Thank you, I’ll… see you later.”

Storming over to Izzy he presses a kiss to her forehead before grabbing all his stuff and leaving.

Niall texts you back not long after breakfast that he is free to drop by when Izzy is having her piano lesson. You carry on with the morning as usual, trying your best not to dwell on everything that happened last night.

Just as Rosaline and Izzy get settled for the lesson you hear a car pulling up outside and a few moments later the doorbell rings through the house.

“Let’s get one thing straight, is it a booty call?” Niall questions right away as you let him inside.

“It’s good to see you again,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“So no sex is gonna be involved?” he smirks and you know he is just teasing you.

“No, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, you can never disappoint me, darling,” he winks at you before walking into the kitchen to serve himself a drink. “So why did you need to see me so desperately?”

“Well, I know I shouldn’t be discussing this with you first, but I feel like I need to know some basic information that Harry might not give me so I thought you could help me out.” Niall nods as he pours himself some soda and joins you at the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to you. “I uhh—I need to ask how much Harry shared with you about… about me—and, um what—“

“Save the stuttering, I know you two kissed,” Niall cuts you off and you breathe out in relief that you don’t have to be the one breaking him the news.

“Oh, okay,” you nod with an awkward smile. “Yeah, so that happened. And last night he and I had this conversation how we should just keep our relationship professional and all that. We both went our own way but then later I found Harry down in the entertainment room, drunk and basically having a meltdown of some sort.”

“How drunk was he?” Niall asks, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Pretty drunk. He broke a glass and he was… crying and talking about a lot of stuff.” Niall takes your words in as he inhales deeply, just nodding for you to continue. “He started telling me how sorry he was for fucking things up and he was a mess, like a huge fucking mess. Then he told me about how he shouldn’t be feeling the way he does, because he doesn’t deserve it…”

“Jesus…” Niall shakes his head, probably already knowing where this is heading.

“And then he told me that his wife’s death was his fault. That was… pretty intense.”

“I can imagine.”

“I know I have to talk to him about it, but I’m really afraid he might shake it off, but it seems like he is having some serious issues and I wouldn’t want things to get out of hands. That’s why I thought I would talk to you, maybe you know what to do or how to approach him with such a sensitive subject.”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s nice of you for being so considerate,” Niall nods, scratching his chin. “Alright, I’ll tell you what I know, but please also let him tell you if he decides to share it with you.” You nod and turn all your attention to him. “I didn’t find this out until about two months after Maggie’s death, but apparently, the night she died they had a fight. Maggie had been nagging Harry to have another baby, but he wanted to wait a little longer, until Izzy is older so they don’t have two babies at the same time. Harry said they had another big fight about it, said some pretty nasty things to each other before Maggie just stormed out to go over to her sister’s. She made it there, but… never made it back home.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of how devastating it must have been, losing your partner after an intense fight without ever making up.

“Understandably, Harry completely lost his shit. For weeks he was barely functioning and we all knew he was grieving, but we didn’t know that he was blaming himself for what happened. When he wasn’t getting any better we somehow convinced him to go to therapy which luckily helped him immensely, but he stopped going a while ago. I thought he got things straight in his head about this whole Maggie situation, but I guess he is still hung up on that.”

“What about the drinking, did that happen a lot?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, yeah, he got wasted quite a few times, but only at the beginning. I don’t think you should be afraid that he might turn into an alcoholic. I think he is just really struggling right now because of the conflict he is having because of you.”

“Because of me?”

“Yeah, he is clearly very confused about his feelings for you and he has convinced himself he shouldn’t feel this way towards anyone ever, but then you came,” he chuckles softly giving you a knowing look.

“Niall, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you breathe out, worry and fear slowly taking over your judgment.

“First and foremost just… be patient with him, okay? This is genuinely the first time he has taken an interest in anyone since Maggie and I think he has already taken some big steps, which is a good sign. Try to talk to him and be open, but don’t push him. I know it can be really annoying when he keeps things, but let him tell you everything at his own pace.”

You nod, understanding the importance of not rushing Harry into anything. Just because you want to get over the awkwardness of the current situation, you can’t push him over his own boundaries.

“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” you nod taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Niall.”

“Oh, and don’t let him give you the ‘you work for me, we shouldn’t be doing this’ bullshit alright? He’ll try to make it out to be some kind of business, but it’s not. He needs to get himself out there and I genuinely think you’re the right person to help him with that.”

His words touch you and you’re not even sure how to react. Niall is clearly someone who stands close to Harry and if he thinks that you and him should give it a try, that must mean something. You can only hope that Harry will come around and think the same at one point.

Izzy gets a little fussy by the end of the day and it takes a lot of persuading to get her to bed in the evening. Harry arrived back home on his usual time and because it’s been such a hot day outside, he took her out to the pool. The problem with that is that Izzy never wants to get out of the water, so when Harry said it’s time for dinner she threw a bit of a tantrum as Harry brought her inside and her mood didn’t get any better later either.

You spent most of your night in the living room just watching TV and working on your laptop, updating your schedule for the upcoming weeks and doing some editing. Harry stays upstairs with Izzy for a long time when her bedtime comes and you figure she is still a little moody, but then you eventually hear his footsteps approaching. Harry pads his way into the living room and joins you on the couch. When you glance over at him you know he is trying to find a way to start the conversation you both know you need to have, so you put your laptop aside and turn your attention towards him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about last night. I’m honestly so terribly ashamed you had to… see me like that,” he starts, clearly nervous to bring it all up.

“It’s fine, happens to everyone,” you assure him and it’s the genuine truth.

“It’s not a regular occurrence, really. I usually know my limits and try to stay within them. I’m really sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“Harry, don’t worry about it,” you tell him again with a warm smile. “We can get past it. I think what we really should talk about is… what you said. Do you remember what we talked about?” you carefully ask.

“I do…” he nods, awkward diverting his eyes away from you. “I’m sorry I told you all that in that state, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to just pour it all on you so suddenly.”

“It’s alright.” “No, it’s not,” he protests shaking his head. “I dropped a bomb on you because I couldn’t deal with my own problems the right way, and it’s not okay. So please, just… accept my apology.”

“Okay, I accept it,” you nod.

“And about the whole thing with… What I told you about Maggie…”

“Just know that you don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. I’m happy to listen whenever you are ready to, but I’m not trying to push you.”

“I know and thank you for that, but I feel like… I owe you an explanation,” he admits and you nod, happy that he is willing to talk instead of closing himself off entirely. “The day Maggie died, we got into this huge fight and she ran off to her sister. It was… a whole mess, we both said things we clearly didn’t mean and I texted her, tried to get her to come home so we could talk things out. That’s when… she was on her way home when it happened and… I still feel like it was my fault.” His voice dies down at the end, just like it did last night when he was talking about her. It clearly left a deep scar on him that’s still not entirely healed and you can’t blame him.

“Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn’t, that it was just all one big coincidence, but all I can think about is that she would still be here if we didn’t get into the fight and I didn’t piss her off so much she felt the need to leave.”

“There was no way for you to see what would happen, Harry. It’s not like you did it on purpose, you had no power over the drunk driver or where Maggie chose to drive home. It really was a coincidence.”

“I know, I mean… I understand, but somehow, my mind keeps telling me that it was my fault.”

“Have you thought about… getting professional help?” you ask, trying to be polite and cautious on the topic.

“Actually, I just called my therapist today to see if… she can fit me in for some sessions,” he admits and you’re surprised at how great he is dealing with the matter. “I feel like I might need some guidance again, before things get out of my hands.”

“That’s great! It really is good to go a bit ahead of problems.”

“Yeah. About us…” he exhales nervously, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell this is the part that’s got him the most anxious. You take this as your queue to take over the conversation.

“Harry, I’m going to be honest with you,” you start and he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… I have feelings for you. You haven’t been the only one making realizations,” you add with a soft chuckle, that brings a smile to his lips as well. “I know that the situation is not quite ideal, but it’s not impossible. But I just want you to be honest with me, do you have feelings for me?”

The conflict is clearer than daylight in his eyes as he is trying to figure out what to say and you really hope he isn’t gonna try to mask his feelings.

“I do,” he then admits and it’s like a giant rock has been lifted off your chest and shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“That’s alright,” you tell him. “Let’s just… take it slow. We’re not in a rush, we obviously have a lot to figure out and that’s completely fine. The pace is completely up to you, I know that you need to get a lot of things straight in your head and I can wait, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I really like where we are now and… I just hope that we can move this forward whenever you feel comfortable with it.”

Harry stares back at you for a moment like you’re some alien creature. Like what you just said wasn’t normal or even human and that’s quite heartbreaking, because somewhere along the way he managed to convince himself that he is not worthy of the most basic decency.

“I-I can’t ask you to wait around while I figure my shit out, that’s not—“

“You’re not asking me, Harry,” you smile at him softly. “This is my decision.”

His eyes are shifting between yours and he is most likely looking for any sign of doubt or qualm, but there’s none, you genuinely meant everything you said.

“So, where does this leave us?” he then asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“Everything goes on like it used to and… whenever you are ready to take a step, just… let me know.”

You can tell he is filled with questions, but he just nods with a weak smile and leaves it at that. This will be a bumpy ride, but at least you are more or less on the same page now.

You haven’t been a big fan of birthday celebrations. You just never understood the big fuss about it, throwing a party for surviving another year? Seems a little weird. This is why you never treated this day any different.

The morning starts off as usual, only that you wake up to a few texts from friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday. Your mom has sent you a whole damn paragraph about how you made her life complete and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. She does that every time, gets a little too sentimental about it, but you guess it’s because it reminds her of getting old herself as well, which is a sensitive topic in her book these days.

It’s a Sunday, so a day off for you. Coming downstairs you find Izzy and Harry sitting at the dining table, already having their breakfast as usual, but when she sees you, she jumps in her seat in excitement.

“Good morning, Y/N!” she beams with a wide smile, buzzing more than she usually does.

“Morning, Sunshine. Slept well?” you ask as you pour yourself some cereal and join them at the table. Izzy nods and then peeks at her father as if she is trying to hide something with him from you.

“Daddy, can we do it now?” she asks in a whisper, but it’s not quiet enough for you to not hear it.

Your eyes lock with Harry’s over the table and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing around right away when you see the tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

It’s been almost an entire week since your conversation with him and things finally seem to get in place for now. Harry had his first session with his therapist on Wednesday and though you can tell he is still trying to find his own boundaries, he doesn’t worry as much about the situation as he probably did before. He isn’t walking on eggshells around you, unsure how to act. More or less it’s the same as it was before the kiss, but there are tiny little things that still make it different. Stolen glances, lingering touches and sweet smiles are making your days more colorful now and it’s gotten you all giddy and… happy.

“What are you two plotting, huh?” you ask, pointing at them with your spoon before digging into the cereal. Izzy glances at Harry one last time and when he nods shortly, she turns to you and throws her arms in the air.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” she cheers as Harry reaches over to the chair next to him and pulls up a box from under the table, handing it over to Izzy so she could give it to you. “This is for you!”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything!” you gasp, truly surprised by the gift. You were not expecting it at all.

“It’s not a birthday without gifts!” she giggles excitedly as she hands the box over. You push your cereal bowl to the side and set the gift to the table in front of you. “Open it!” she urges you, her little hands curled into fists as she watches your every move, as if it was her who just got a present.

Your eyes meet Harry’s green ones over the table once more and he is watching you with a small smile, probably enjoying that he could surprise you.

You pull on the bow on the top and then carefully take the wrapping paper off until the box is revealed underneath and you gas as soon as you realize what this is.

“Oh my God!” you breathe out in disbelief as you take a better look at the gift. Harry didn’t just get you something, he actually listened to what you were saying and remembered that you’re a big fan of oldschool cameras and you have a special love for polaroids. And now, in front of you in the box is your very own polaroid camera, something you’ve been really wanting to buy for yourself for a long time, but you just never got around to actually do it.

“Do you like it? Daddy said you’d really like it!” Izzy asks with big eyes, watching your reaction.

“Oh, I love it!” you breathe out, feeling all mushy and melted from the gesture. Izzy climbs over to your lap, hugging your neck. You wrap your arms around her in a bone crushing hug and you’re so thankful for having them both in your life.

Izzy sits on your lap as you get the camera out of the box and figure out how to work it. She then hops off your lap and poses for the first ever picture taken with your new favorite camera.

“But it’s blank!” she furrows her eyebrows when the photo comes out.

“Because you have to wait for it to develop. It’ll show up in a few minutes,” you smile, setting the photo down on the table.

Izzy sits in her seat, excitedly waiting for the photo to develop and in the meanwhile you join Harry in the kitchen where he is washing the dishes. He spots you and turns the tap off, turning to face you as he dries his hands off.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” you tell him softly, but really feel touched by the gesture.

“No, but I wanted to. Do you really like it?”

“I love it!” you chuckle in disbelief. How could he think you wouldn’t like it?!

You move forward, aiming for a hug out of instinct but then stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but Harry notices the motion and for your surprise, he wraps you in a warm hug on his own. You melt against his hard chest, your nose buried into his shoulder as your arms circle around his waist.

When you lean back, you both keep your arms around each other, eyes meeting and you realize just how close you are to each other. Without even knowing, your gaze flickers down to his lips and you’re dying to kiss him, to feel them again, but you don’t move, wanting to keep your word about letting him set the pace.

But what you didn’t expect is Harry leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It’s so different from the last time, that was a hot mess, but this one… this is light as a feather but still makes your stomach somersault as you taste his lips, cupping his face in your hands.

“Daddy! I’m thirsty!” Izzy calls out from outside and it kind of ends the moment. Harry pulls back and when you look at him you see that his eyes are still closed. They flutter open a moment later, finding your gaze and you look for any kind of regret or fear in them, but they are nothing but shiny.

“Just a moment, baby!” he answers her, a small smile tugging on his lips as he leans down and pecks the corner of your mouth again before his hands fall from your waist. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he breathes out before grabbing a bottled water and heading back to Izzy.

You bring your fingertips to your tingling lips as you take a moment to really process what just happened and you can’t push down the smile that spreads across your face. Harry finally took the first step and now you can’t wait to see what’s coming next.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[peachsayshi]

Chapter 11 - Friends

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You convince Gojo to make up with your best friend and memories from the past come up. 

A/N: A wild ex-boyfriend appears! I am finally introducing the character and getting into some backstory. I got some smutty chapters coming up, which I am excited to share because I do love writing sexy Gojo X comments are always appreciated! 

- - - 

( Three Years Ago)

You cleared the plates in front of you as you made your way back to your kitchen. You packed the meal that you had taken the time to meticulously prepare, including the expensive steaks you bought this morning and the vegetables that you hand picked at the farmer’s market. As you opened the fridge to put away the items, you saw the row of vanilla cupcakes placed neatly on a pan, your shaky handwriting spread across each one that read “ Five Years ” with red hearts decorated on the extras. Suddenly, it all seemed silly how you took the time to prepare a surprise anniversary dinner for your boyfriend. You’ve both been together for so long but you still insisted on making every occasion special.

After you tidied up your dining table, you picked up the wine glass you have been nursing for the last hour and made your way over to your bedroom, where you sat on the chair next to your vanity. You removed the earrings that your boyfriend had bought you for your birthday, your favorite pair because they matched beautifully against your skin, and safely tucked them away in your jewelry box. You were disappointed that you made such a big deal out of tonight, feeling like a sentimental fool as you took a sip of your drink. Haru has been so preoccupied with work lately and the pressure of being in a highly competitive field was getting to him. Of course with the way things have been he wouldn’t remember that tonight was your anniversary dinner. You were trying to be mature about it but you couldn’t ignore that you were hurt. You glanced at your phone, reading 10:45 on the clock before finally giving up on the hope that he would show up.

You removed the dress you were wearing, a bold shade of orange that accentuated your body in all the right places - a dress that he bought you while you both went on a summer trip to Okinawa a few years ago. You changed into something a little more comfortable, throwing on a tank top and some loose lounge pants instead.

You heard your phone ping, a message popping up on the screen from Gojo.

Gojo : How did the dinner go?

You sighed to yourself, before plopping down onto your mattress. You tapped away at the keyboard, erasing each message a few times as you were unsure whether you wanted to vent or give him a brief explanation.

You : It didn’t…I think he’s still at work :(

Gojo : That sucks :\ Well, if you have any leftover cupcakes, I will gladly take them off your hands.

You: Nice try, idiot.

Gojo: I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have any :)

When you didn’t respond to his message, Gojo followed up with another text that read:

Gojo: You okay?

You: I’m fine, I was just looking forward to tonight. I’ll get over myself. Tell me about your night, you can keep me preoccupied from my disappointment lol

Gojo merely responded with some eye emojis, a cheeky indication as to what he has been up to this evening.

You: At least one of us got some action...what’s her name?

Gojo: No idea, I was too distracted by her legs to care.  

You merely rolled your eyes at his comment.

You: It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?

Gojo: I’m a simple guy, really…

You: …

Gojo: …

You: In WHAT universe?!

Gojo : Pshh, so mean to me all the time :(

You: With reason :)

You smiled when you sent that last text, grateful that Gojo came in at the right time with a distraction. You tried your best not to dwell on the dismal way your evening ended and instead continued to list off the many reasons why the word “simple” and “Gojo Satoru” did not go hand and hand with each other. Your conversation made time fly but that was usually the case whenever you spoke with your friend.

You were so lost in the playfully heated debate you were having, you barely heard the knock coming from your front door.

You abandoned your conversation to see who it was, surprised to find a massive bouquet of flowers greeting you on the other side.

“What…”

Haru peaked from behind the flowers, his sweet smile spreading as he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Happy anniversary!” he chirped, but you could hear the anxiousness in his tone. “ I know I’m late, I know I missed dinner…”

A deep sigh escaped him, as he slightly slumped his shoulders, extending both his hands out to you to pass the bouquet.

“I know this is a meaningless gift in comparison to whatever amazing thing you prepared, I know my efforts don’t even come close to yours, you always put so much care into everything you do. By the time I knew I was late, I was running around the city like a mad man hoping that someone, anyone, would be kind enough to open their shop for me so I would at least not come back empty handed…”

“Haru, take a breath…” you replied, hearing how quickly he was blurting out his words, something he usually did when he was nervous.

You took the bouquet from his hands, admiring the selected assortment of your favorite florals, all picked out by your boyfriend. You traced your fingers along each petal, some a little bruised and you could tell that these flowers were from  the leftovers of the day.

Haru approached you, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so sorry . None of my excuses justify missing dinner tonight. I swear I am going to make it up to you…”

You tried to calm him down, running your fingers through his light brown hair and taking in every word he said as you remained focused on his hazel eyes. Your heart flutters thinking of him galavanting around the city in his disheveled work suit trying to knock on every florists’ door, a funny anecdote you will surely use against him in the future.  

“How do you plan on making it up to me?” You teased, noticing the way his brow raised at your question.

He pulled you closer into him, planting kisses along your neck before he brushed his lips against your ear to say, “I’m taking the weekend off, how does a nice trip to Hakone sound?”

“ Mmm, ideal… ” you replied, clutching the bouquet of flowers as he hugged you, “but if you keep holding me close, you’re going to ruin this lovely gift you bought me…”

“Then I’ll buy you another, and another, and another ...until I’ve given you enough flowers so that you can plant an entire garden,” he kissed you again, his fingers stroking the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” he repeated, his voice wavering slightly from his second apology.

“It’s okay, work comes first. I know you have been busy and probably should have planned our evening with you instead of surprising you. But you’re here now and that's what matters.”

He nodded his head, finally untangling himself from your arms, relieved that you seemed to have forgiven him.

“ I love you so much.”

“ I love you too, Haru .”

You gave him a small smile, tilting your head towards the direction of your kitchen, “It might be too late for dinner but I baked you some cupcakes if you’re up for a little snack…”

Haru removed his blazer, carefully hanging it over his elbow before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He held your hand, following your footsteps as you led him into the direction of your kitchen.

“ I can’t wait to try them. ”

( Present)

“ You brought me here under false pretences …” Gojo grumbled, holding himself back as you tugged on his jacket.

It’s been four months since the two of you started hooking up and weeks since he and Rina have even spoken to one another.

After Gojo confessed that she knew about your relationship, you managed to find the time to sit down with your best friend for a heart to heart. The two of you had a ritual which included locking yourselves up in a room with snacks  and drinks until you came to resolve whatever conflict you were dealing with.

“I just don’t understand why you kept this from me,” Rina explained, before taking a sip of the mixed cocktail you both made.

“ You’ve been so overprotective ever since Haru and I broke up…it’s hard for me to talk to you because you start analyzing every little thing I do. Like when I told you I wanted to stop dating for a while, you kept insisting that I was making a mistake because I was running scared…”

“I also know you’re a hopeless romantic, and a few bad dates weren’t fitting this idealised version you have of love…” Rina pressed, “You got lucky with Haru, but diving back into the game takes time and work…”

“I know I was lucky. I know it’s not usual for the first guy you meet to be so… good ,” you replied, that word tasting bitter in your mouth, “But you keep pressuring me into something I am not ready for…”

“That’s not true!”

“Rina, you would take me out on “surprise” double dates when the two of us were just supposed to just be hanging out together. Whenever I talk about Haru, you shut down and change the subject immediately. I can’t even have a night out together without you herding every single eligible male and asking me my opinion…”

Rina sighed, “it sounds way worse when you say it out loud...”

“It’s like you can’t stand that I’m just… a little broken . I let Haru become a part of who I am for five years and losing him feels like I lost a part of me, and I am struggling trying to get that person back. You want me to be okay so badly it’s stopping me from opening up to you…”

Rina inched her way closer as the two of you sat side by side. A sigh escaped her before she spoke, “I’m not good at this…I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I just can’t stand seeing you so hurt. I know that he took a piece of your happiness and I am so angry that he did. I hate that he betrayed your trust, but more so that you haven’t been able to be yourself without him…”

She squeezed your shoulder before giving you a gentle reminder, “but he never defined you. You’re attaching yourself to the love you had for him. And you will find somebody else, somebody better …”

“Maybe but I can’t see myself falling in love again…at least not anytime soon…”

Rina rested her head on your elbow, “I don’t want you to ever think you can’t speak to me…we’ve lasted way longer than all the exes that have walked in and out of our lives…”

You were happy to mend this small fracture, one of the many that has tried to hinder your friendship.

You eventually explained your little arrangement with Gojo, watching Rina’s reaction closely and trying to pull the truth of what she  exactly  said to him.

“I may have thought you were dating, like seriously dating, and told him he wasn’t good enough for you. I am glad to know that you are not. We don’t need to trade one man whore for another…”

You laughed, “Gojo has always made it clear that he has no desire to commit to anyone. I’m not worried. Besides, we can stop our arrangement anytime we are over it.”

“Sooo, when might that be?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “right now, I’m having fun and I think he is too…”

Rina hummed, you could tell she was thinking about something but whatever ran through her mind in that moment she chose to keep to herself.

Even though you and Rina smoothed things over, you realised that neither she or Gojo tried to make an effort to speak to one another. He was avoiding her at all costs while she chose to ignore  the subject entirely. You still had no idea what was said that set those two off but you were over this cold game they were playing.

“Between your inability to handle any confrontation and her stubborn attitude, you two are going to drag this on for way longer than it needs to be…” you lectured.

You paused when you arrived at her store, staring up at Gojo with pleading eyes. “I don’t like being the reason why you two aren’t speaking… please just talk to her…”

Gojo whined, “throw it on my conscience instead, that way you have no reason to feel guilty…”

You furrowed your brows before letting go of him, but a thought passed your mind which gave you an idea, “Remember that thing you brought up the other night? Your little roleplaying idea…”

Gojo arched his brows from underneath his blindfold, surprised that you were even bringing this up. “ Yes… ”

You smirked, stepping closer to him without actually touching him at all. “If you do this for me then I'll happily return the favor…”

His eyes widened, his heart racing slightly as a wave of excitement rushed through him.

You could see he was contemplating your offer, finally scoffing in defeat. “You know saying no to you was a lot easier when you weren’t bribing me with sex…” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly walked passed you.

“You did tell me once that you were a man of simple taste…”

“And I vividly remember you disagreeing with me.”

“Thank you!” You called out watching him reach the handle of the entrance door.

“Just know I am expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” he replied before making his way inside.

***

Gojo sat at the counter, the awkward silence hung heavy in the air as Rina waited for him to break the tension. When that didn’t happen, she sighed to herself before storming to the backroom of her shop.

Gojo waited for her return, his eyes widening when she finally reappeared with something in her hands.

“ I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” she said, bowing in his direction and handing him some treats.

“Aww, Rina-chan, how did you know kikufuku was my favorite?” Gojo questioned, his tone softening his sweet words as he held the packet between his fingers.

“I heard it through the grapevine…”

Gojo couldn’t hide his pleasured grin.

You were always so considerate of everyone, going above and beyond to make them happy and paying close attention to the things they liked the most. You must have already spoken to Rina before he came here, playing the role of matchmaker between friends.

Rina definitely noticed his response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he opened up the packet, “I know your anger was coming from a protective place. I don’t fault you for it. Besides, you and I can happily agree on one thing…”

“What’s that?”

Gojo smirked, “she’s too good for me…”

Rina swallowed hard, mainly because of how sincere that statement actually sounded.

“I care about her…”

Gojo hummed to himself, taking a bite of the sweet snack. “And you think I don’t?”

“Can I be honest?”

“ Please. ”

“I am not questioning your care for her, I am questioning what your intentions are. I won’t apologize for not trusting you.  You promised me after she broke up with Haru that you wouldn’t make a move on her but here we are now…”

“I kept my promise.”

“You found a loophole…”

“It’s been three years…she’s allowed to move on.”

“Yes she is…”

“You know, I was surprised by how angry you got at her for keeping us a secret, especially since we both know that there are plenty of things you’re hiding from her right now. Then I started thinking that it wasn’t the secret that was bothering you, you just don’t want her moving on with me…”

Rina averted her gaze, completely surprised by how easily Gojo read her.

“Like I said, I don’t trust you…”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, “What did Haru tell you exactly?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just want to know if you’re still adamant on convincing yourself that I am the bad guy or if you would like to know what actually happened between us…”

*** 

CHAPTER 12 - MUSE

[burberryharold]

hey, lovies! i’ve been so excited to post this fic because i am in love with Harry and Jules and i hope you will be too (and excuse the lousy banner i just wanted to have something lol)! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge, so i hope you enjoy reading it and happy valentine’s day, it’s all about spreading love around so here is some love from me to all of you ❤️

a special thank you to @fireproofrry @bodejacketharry @strawberryystyles​ for beta reading and giving feedback, you are absolute angels <3

word count: 7.7k

warnings: none!

challenge prompt and dialogue: strangers alone on valentine’s day + “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”

It’s official, valentine’s day is the worst.

At least that’s what Jules thought as she adjusted herself on the bar stool, trying to get into a comfortable position while she waited for her drink to be served.

It wasn’t in Jules’ agenda to spend what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year alone at a bar ten minutes away from her apartment. If she was still with Leon, they would have been having a nice dinner somewhere, laughing over whatever funny story one of them had to share about their day at the company.

But alas, Leon was someone else’s now and Jules was only left with her own company.

Truth be told, though, Jules never minded being alone, in fact, she enjoyed being by herself because people were simply exhausting.

But being alone and being lonely were too completely different things, and Jules hated feeling lonely.

And valentine’s day only made that worse. Seeing loved up couples around her, flashes of red and pink everywhere she glanced, hearing cheesy love songs blasting through the speakers of the shops she passed by. Everything about valentine’s day just seemed to remind her of her lonely status.

Instead of staying at her apartment all night long doing nothing but watching rom coms and feeling sorry for herself, Jules thought of a better alternative, which was to get pissed drunk. So when she got up in the morning to go to work (because even on valentine’s day duty calls), she put on her favourite black dress, one that was sleeveless and had a deep v-neckline, and put on enough makeup to feel confident in the way she looked before pulling on her coat and venturing into the cold streets of London.

If she was going to get pathetically drunk by herself at a bar after work whilst everyone else was being all lovey dovey, then she would look hot doing it.

The sound of a glass coming in contact with the wooden surface broke her out of her reverie and she glanced up, finding that the bartender had placed her drink in front of her and he was beaming at her. “There you go, love, happy valentine’s day.”

After squinting at the name tag (she’s never seen him here before, he must be new), Jules forced herself to return his smile and lifted her glass. “Cheers, Jonah.”

Poor guy must have thought she was waiting for a date or something. Too bad, no one was going to be joining Jules on this fine evening. Just me, myself, and I.

Setting her glass back on the counter after taking a big gulp, Jules scowled as she was reminded of the items she had received earlier in the day. For some reason, Leon thought it was a good idea to give her a box of chocolates and a rose, even though they were no longer together and he had another woman by his side.

She appreciated the thought behind it, he probably just wanted to be nice or maybe he felt guilty, but his gift was staring at her, almost laughing at her misery and she wasn’t having it.

That is why she instantly asked Jonah for a fork, which caused him to send her a confused look but he complied nonetheless, and she proceeded to stab the pieces of chocolate placed perfectly in the box, taking out her frustration on the sweets.

Once satisfied, she dropped the fork with a clunk and heaved out a sigh, lazily resting her chin in her right hand before looking back at Jonah. He was staring at her with wide eyes as he dried off some shot glasses, surely thinking that she was a lunatic, but Jules just flashed him a sweet smile and shifted her eyes back to the chocolates she had just assaulted.

Poor chocolate, but oh well.

“Are you alright there?”

“What the fuc-“ The sudden voice caused her to jump in her seat and she almost fell off the bar stool if it weren’t for the hand that magically materialised behind her, holding her steady.

Before she had a chance to slap the hand off her back, the stranger retracted it and returned to his seat and she had the chance to take a proper look at him.

The man stared back at her with concerned eyes, a stool separating the two of them, but he was still not that far away from her. Jules wondered when he had gotten there because she certainly didn’t feel him arrive. Perhaps it was during her chocolate rampage.

What really surprised her though, more than his sudden appearance, was the fact that she knew who he was. In fact, she believed everyone knew the man sitting beside her because it was none other than Harry Styles.

Many questions ran through Jules’ head, the most important being what on earth was a guy like him doing at this bar on valentine’s day? Jules never believed in the image the media painted of him, but surely he has something better to do than be here, all by himself it seems?

As big of a fan as she was, the fact that he was right before her didn’t faze Jules all that much, her mind was more preoccupied by other matters. So, she ended up doing what she would’ve done if it was any other person: she glared at him and wordlessly turned back in her seat, pretending as if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t seem to take the hint.

“You were quite aggressive with the chocolate there.” His deep voice floated in the empty bar as he pointed at the box in front of her.

Jules inhaled deeply before responding in a flat tone. “I’m allergic to chocolate.” Glaring at the single rose lying beside the box, she grabbed it and tossed it on the floor beneath her, silently cursing Leon once more. “And roses.”

She felt guilty for littering, but she’d pick it up when she leaves. Eventually.

“Are you really?” The man beside her questioned, leaning forward in his seat, his body completely turned towards her at this point. She could tell from her tone that he was skeptical of her supposed allergies and she honestly couldn’t blame him.

“No,” she found herself shaking her head, signalling for Jonah to get her another drink, still keeping her body facing forward and only glancing at him from her peripheral vision, “I’m just fucking with you.”

To her surprise, he let out a small laugh, not seeming to be upset. Jules couldn’t help but turn her head a bit to look at him, finding a dimpled smile on his and she wondered what was wrong with this guy.

“May I ask why you were stabbing the poor sweets then?”

Figuring she should just put him out of his misery and answer his question, Jules huffed and crossed her legs, not missing the way his gaze flickered down for a split second before returning to her face. She ignored it and sighed, “Well if you must know, my ex gave them to me this morning.”

“Trying to get you to take him back?”

“Oh god no,” Jules laughed at the notion, her hand waving off his wrong assumption, “he’s as happy as can be with his new girlfriend.”

The blatant confusion on his face prompted her to provide more explanation.

“We broke up a couple of months ago, he left me for someone else. So he probably just felt guilty.”

“He left you for someone else? And before the holidays?” When she nodded in confirmation, he shook his head with a frown. “Bastard.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Valentine’s day just sucks, it’s just a reminder of how lonely you are,” she muttered with bitterness, “Of how lonely I am.”

“Well if it’s any consolation,” Harry said, pausing to ask the bartender for another drink, “I’m lonely tonight too.”

“Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be here getting drunk on your own.” With a few drinks already in her system, Jules practically had no filter whatsoever (not that she really had one in the first place).

“Touché,” he clicked his tongue, then leaned back to chug down the rest of his glass. Jules was almost concerned by how quickly he downed his drink, but she’s not in a position to talk, after all, she’d been doing the same. “But I’m not getting drunk on my own now, am I? You’re right here.”

She scoffed, eyebrows raising at his words. “Who said I’m keeping you company? Or that I’m not leaving any second now?”

“I don’t think you are.” He responded with much conviction that it almost threw Jules off.

“You think too confidently about a stranger you just met.”

“Let’s fix the strangers part then, shall we? I’m Harry.” He extended his ring-clad hand and Jules noticed a coat of red nail polish on his fingers. How ironic.

She sighed before deciding to entertain him, grabbing a firm hold of his surprisingly warm hand. Maybe she’ll allow him to keep her company tonight. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave her alone anyway.

“Jules.” She simply responded before turning back to her drink, swirling the pink straw around. She made a mental note to thank Jonah later for the cute straw.

“Jules” Harry repeated, as if testing the name on his lips and Jules would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue. “Is that a nickname for Julie? Julia? Short for Juliann-“

“Juliet. It’s Juliet.” She interrupted his ridiculous ramble. He surely was inquisitive. And did she really look like a Julianne?

“Huh,” he hummed, gliding a finger over the rim of his glass, staying silent for a few seconds and Jules thought he was maybe done for the night.

She thought wrong, it seems.

“Oh, Juliet, oh, Juliet, where art thou, Juliet?” He dramatically recited, voice going deeper as he stared upwards at a spot over the bar. Simply put, Jules thought he looked ridiculous.

She could hear Jonah snickering in the background.

“It’s where art thou, Romeo, but nice try.” She rolled her eyes in response to his theatrics. Almost everyone she’s ever encountered has commented on her name and made a reference to the infamous Shakespearean tragedy that she’s never been too fond of. It’s why she mostly went by Jules.

No one’s ever recited that line though, however wrong it was. That was a first.

“I knew that,” the curly-haired man mumbled beside her, swirling his glass and watching the ice cubes swim around, “was just joking, geez, tough crowd.”

Jules couldn’t help but roll her eyes again in response. That joke got old a long time ago.

She’s beginning to regret coming to this bar tonight. Maybe she should’ve just headed straight home and cuddled into her blankets.

“It’s pretty, though,” he added a few moments later, “beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

No way. She huffed, spinning in her seat to face him once again. “That’s your line? Tell me, Mr. Rockstar, has that really worked on anyone before?”

She could tell he was a bit surprised but tried to hide it; unluckily for him, Jules was a very observant person, hardly anything passed her.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

She interrupted him again and leaned in closer, resting her elbow on the countertop and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flickered for a fleeting second to the charm bracelet adorning her wrist. “So you don’t think my name’s beautiful? Or that I’m beautiful? Sheesh, Harry, you’re not looking good here.”

Harry spluttered, staring at her with eyes blown wide in panic and Jules almost felt bad for messing with him; it was just hard not to, she was lonely and he was right there annoying her with his lousy jokes, so he has the unfortunate fate of being her victim tonight (and truthfully, he brought it on himself). And if she was being honest, messing with Harry Styles was just too entertaining of an opportunity for her to pass on.

To be fair, she was a little annoyed by his presence in the beginning, having originally planned to wallow in her misery all by herself, but now she’s having fun. She might just enjoy her time with him.

“No- no of course I think you’re beautiful, y-your name too,” he responded in clear panic, seemingly trying to figure out how he can redeem himself. Jules’ attention was momentarily caught by the way his rings glimmered under the light as he flexed his fingers, still fumbling for a response. “I was just-“

“Styles,” she interrupted him, yet again, with a light-hearted laugh and shook her head, hair falling forward on her shoulders, “Relax, was just messing with you.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he heaved out a sigh of relief; his eyes then narrowed and he lifted his hand, pointer finger wagging in her direction. “You really like messing with people, huh? Not very nice of you.”

“Made you sweat, no? Was just having fun. I can now say that I’ve made the infamous Harry Styles stumble over his words. How much do you think they’ll pay me for that hot gossip? Reckon it would be a lot.” She said as she turned back in her seat, now facing the bar once again, but she knew he caught the smirk on her face and the teasing lilt in her tone.

Coming to the bar was definitely a good decision.

Harry felt like a proper idiot.

Here he was, sitting at a pub with a lovely woman that clearly didn’t want to be bothered, yet he had to fuck things up and be a git.

And the Juliet bit? Harry had never been more embarrassed, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He made sure to remind himself that he wasn’t that funny and should just stop trying to be. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.

In spite of his rather embarrassing advances, Harry found himself enjoying Jules’ company immensely, even if she had barely looked his way when he had arrived at his spot.

She might’ve looked irritated by his insistent attempts to start a conversation with her in the beginning, but from the way her body has been facing him for the past half an hour and the smile or two she’d thrown his way, Harry had a feeling she was warming up to him.

He discovered that she was an accountant, which thoroughly surprised him because she didn’t seem like one. Harry doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover, but Jules definitely didn’t scream accountant, more like a Greek goddess or something. Her black dress hugged her body in a way that almost made Harry dizzy; he had noticed her the second he walked into the nearly empty pub – and before he could even think about it, he found his legs carrying him in her direction (he was already headed to the bar anyway, or so he told himself).

Admittedly, the way she was stabbing the chocolates had him fearing for his life for a split second, but Harry brushed it off and figured she just wasn’t a fan of valentine’s day, if her apparent disdain for the sweets and the rose before her was any indication.

He was also surprised to learn that she’d moved here from America about five years ago and this pub was one she often frequented, yet Harry had never run into her somehow despite coming here a lot and living not too far himself.

He’s glad their paths have finally crossed tonight, though.

That being said, Jules was definitely keeping him on his toes. He never knew what she was going to say next, and she certainly did not hold back from saying exactly what was on her mind.

Harry found himself liking that about her, even if her forwardness came at his expense sometimes (he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it). Oftentimes, people acted cautious around him and treated him differently just because of his status. Not Jules, though.

But now he could tell that she had something on her mind, from the way she looked at him then shifted her eyes elsewhere a second later.

“What is it?” He questioned, deciding to put her out of her fidgety state. He wasn’t sure what was holding her back, she certainly had no problem handing his ass to him earlier.

“It’s just,” she started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the movement catching Harry attention for a second before he reminded himself to be respectful, “what are you doing here by yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that someone like you doesn’t have anyone to hang around on a day like this.”

Someone like him? Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she was implying with her words but he didn’t believe she meant it in a negative manner necessarily.

“That came out wrong, I didn’t mean anything like that,” she quickly defended, face becoming redder by the second and Harry was a little endeared by the sight. The woman before him was confident all throughout their conversation, having no fear in expressing her thoughts, yet now she was the flustered one. And Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“What, thought someone like me had a flock of women at their beck and call and that I’d be off with one or some of them tonight?”

He gave her a blank look afterwards, pretending that he found offence in her words and he almost blew his cover at the way her face visibly fell.

“N-no!” she exclaimed, voice rising a few octaves and Harry could see the bartender, Jonah, suddenly flinch behind her from the sound. He pressed his lips together to silence the chuckle that threatened to escape and continued to stare Jules down.

“Of course I didn’t mean it like that,” she added in a much calmer tone, though Harry could detect that panic lacing her voice and he was starting to feel guilty. “I never believed that you were like that, I just,” she paused, averting her gaze away and staring at the lights above them instead, “never mind, just ignore me.”

Harry figured that she already knew of who he was and his status, and despite having just met her, the fact that she just said she doesn’t believe the rumours about him filled him with inexplicable warmth and he had to remind himself again that he’d only just met this woman. He shouldn’t feel anything of the sort towards her.

He could tell by the way her eyebrows were furrowed that she felt bad about what she’d said, so Harry called out her name and waited for her to look at him again.

When she did, her face holding an apprehensive look, he smiled at her and leaned a bit closer, which made little difference because there was still some space separating them.

“I was just messing with you, Jules,” he reached forward and flicked her nose, causing her to instinctively scrunch her face in a cute manner that had Harry’s stomach fluttering. “Doesn’t feel that nice now, does it?”

Jules chuckled in disbelief, wide eyes staring back at him and a smile was slowly stretching on her lips. “Touché. I see how it is then.”

Harry just shrugged, his own lips twitching as another smile threatened to appear. “Just having some fun, eh?”

Jules was now beaming at him and if Harry was standing, he was certain that his knees would’ve buckled at the sight. He already knew that Jules was gorgeous, and he was sure anyone would agree with him, but when as she smiled at him like that, eyes shining bright under the warm orange lights, brown hair cascading loosely yet somehow perfectly on her shoulders, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that there was an angel sitting before him.

“Truce then?”

Her voice brought him back to earth and Harry chuckled before he shook her outstretched hand, marvelling for a moment at the way it felt enveloped in his. “Truce.”

“But to answer your question,” Harry said after a few beats of silence, glancing at her to find her eyes already set on him. “I didn’t have anything planned, haven’t been on many dates recently to be honest, so I just figured I’d come here and spend time with my good friend,” he lifted his drink with a wide grin on his face, “alcohol, the one thing that never let me down.”

Jules threw her head back in a laugh, the sound being music to Harry’s ears and he wished he could record it just to hear it again and again. “Amen to that.”

The two clinked their glasses together, laughing stupidly for no reason, before they threw their heads back to drink.

“Another round, then?”

Jonah suddenly appeared in front of them, startling Harry a bit. Sometimes he forgot that the man was lingering around behind the bar.

Jules took the liberty to respond for the both of them, exclaiming a “hell yeah, buddy!” that had the two men laughing, and soon enough their glasses were refilled.

After taking a sip, Harry leaned his head on the palm of his hand and set his eyes on Jules again, “So, are you a fan? Of me or of the band?”

He had to ask, he couldn’t help but wonder. If she was indeed a fan, she certainly didn’t show it.

Jules shrugged, playing nonchalant it seemed, but it didn’t escape him the way her cheeks seemed to redden. “Eh, I dabble. You’re alright.”

Her response made him chuckle. “Good to know.” Call him a narcissist, but he really wanted to know whether or not she liked his music. Perhaps he’ll inquire further later.

Because Harry knows that there’s no way he’s letting Jules go anytime soon.

Getting to know Harry was fun.

Sometime during the night, Harry had migrated from his seat onto the bar stool beside her, their thighs brushing against each other every now and then.

Tapping his fingers around his glass, Harry’s rings clinked against it and Jules couldn’t help but be slightly captivated by the action. She wasn’t one to stare at anyone’s hands, but she had to admit that Harry’s were fascinating to look at; his long and slender fingers, adorned by a number of his infamous rings, were truly a sight to see.

She took the chance to also admire his outfit, something she was too busy to do earlier on. His coat was long discarded on the stool beside him, which allowed her eyes to run over his figure. His upper body was covered by a plain white t-shirt with the word “Sex” displayed on his chest, a pair of pair of wide-legged black pants covering his long limbs; it was a simple fit yet it made it difficult for Jules to take her eyes off him. And his hair just looked so soft that her fingers were begging her to touch the fallen strands on his forehead.

Hearing Harry clear his throat broke her out of her trance and Jules realised from the smirk that stretched on his lips that she’d been caught in the act.

She tried playing it off, as if she hadn’t been shamelessly checking him out for the last couple of minutes and smoothed her hands down her dress, adjusting in her seat because honestly, her butt was starting to ache.

But she didn’t want to leave just yet.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, however, Harry downed the last bit of his drink before setting his glass down with a smack, causing Jonah, who was still lingering around them, to shoot Harry a warning glance and a low “careful!”, to which Harry smiled sheepishly before turning to face her again.

“Want to get out of here?”

Jules’ eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, having not expected him to want to continue spending the night with her.

“Sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” She couldn’t help but question, still struggling to grasp the fact that he still wanted to be around her. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes staring into his emerald ones as she waited to hear his response.

Truth be told, she was enjoying his company far much more than she had anticipated and she didn’t want to part from him just yet.

To her relief, a dimpled smile adorned Harry’s face as he took in her words before he shook his head, “Trust me, Jules, there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”

She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat at that.

The two got up from their seats after thanking Jonah and fighting over who’s paying because Harry insisted on paying for her drinks. As she was gathering her things, she felt Harry’s presence behind her and she realised, after looking at him over her shoulders, that he was holding her coat up for her.

Heat rushed into her cheeks at the gesture, finding it sweet that he was helping her when he didn’t really have to. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him with a smile after feeling him adjust her hair.

His only response was a faint “No need” and he quickly turned to shrug on his own coat, the bashful smile on his lips not going unnoticed by her.

Flashing Jonah another smile, Harry extended his arm towards her and nodded his head towards the exit. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

The two stepped into the night, the biting London air hitting Jules’ cheeks immediately and she was positive her nose was already red from the cold.

Jules reached into her pocket to grab her phone, realising that she hasn’t checked the device since she walked into the bar. There weren’t any notifications that she missed, which wasn’t surprising since her friends (all four of them) were out on dates or staying at home with their partners, so she was sure no one was thinking of her at the moment.

Noticing that it was already 8 in the evening and they were aimlessly walking down the street, Jules turned to Harry with a questioning gaze. “Where are we going?”

Leaning his head down to look at her (or perhaps to be closer, Jules wasn’t sure), he paused, seeming to think, before shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if I’m quite honest.”

Jules found herself chuckling at him. How did her day end with her walking around with no purpose with a man she’d just met?

She looked at the sign closest to them before she turned to him and did something she rarely ever did. She found herself inviting him to her apartment because they were quite close.

A smirk found its way onto Harry’s lips and she started to regret her decision. “Already trying to get me into your bed, Juliet?”

She mentally cursed at the way her heart leaped upon hearing her name roll off his tongue. Almost no one called her Juliet anymore, except for her parents when they were being serious, but she found herself wanting to hear him say her name over and over again.  

Shaking her head at the thought, Jules reached her arm out and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you idiot. You can just go ahead and cry alone in your mansion if you want.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender and muttered an apology, although the smile lingered on his lips and Jules tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Lead the way, then.”

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get us something to drink.”

The walk to her apartment was full of smiles and laughter. She’s come to the conclusion that Harry loves making people laugh, even if his jokes were actually awful, but she found it endearing; he was like a ray of sunshine bringing joy to those around him.

She was glad that she had cleaned up the place a couple of days ago, it would’ve been embarrassing to have someone over to see pyjamas and junk strewn over her furniture. Suffice to say, Jules was a bit of a mess around the house.

After hanging up her coat and Harry’s, she made her way into her kitchen and looked for the good wine she reserved for special occasions. She easily grabbed it, along with two glasses, but then Jules found herself lingering by the kitchen island.

It dawned on her that there was a man in her living room, and he wasn’t just anyone. This was Harry Styles, someone she’d long admired and holy shit was this really happening?

And as sad as it may sound, she’s never felt this connection with anyone before, never felt like the person before her got her and could keep up with her. Yet with Harry, it felt different, and that scared her because she’d only just met him a couple of hours ago.

And he was bound to forget all about her after tonight. He’s just looking for some company, and Jules didn’t think she was that special. Eventually, he’s going to leave. Just like everyone else.

Feeling like the black marble of the island was starting to swirl in her vision, Jules snapped out of her thoughts and sucked in a deep breath before moving back towards the living room.

Harry had his hands interlocked behind his back, perusing through her record collection and it made her inadvertently smile. She was proud of her vast collection of vinyl records, a good portion of them handed down to her by her father; they both had a deep appreciation for records that her mum often made fun of them for.

“Found anything you like?” He jolted at her voice, not having noticed her presence behind him, but then his shoulders immediately relaxed.

Turning towards her with a wide grin, Harry gestured to the shelf behind him. Jules liked the way he seemed to glow underneath the dim lights and she wished she could take a picture of this moment as a keepsake. “This is amazing, there are records here that I couldn’t even find.”

“You can thank my dad for that,” she told him, making herself comfortable on the couch but not breaking eye contact once, “he’s been collecting them for decades and I’m so glad he let me have some, like you should see his collection back home, it’s even more impressive.”

“Hope I’ll get to someday.”

His response caught her off-guard. Before Jules could react, Harry’s teasing voice carried through the room.

“You dabble, you said?” He smirked, turning the Fine Line record in hand to show her and also nodding to the space that held One Direction records. Jules groaned out loud and flopped against the back of the couch.

“A little yeah. Sue me.”

She blushed under his amused gaze, a little embarrassed that he’d found her collection of the band’s records and his own solo music.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, dimples adorning his cheeks, “think it’s cute that you’re a big fan.”

“Don’t know why that makes me cute but okay if you say so.” She mumbled under her breath, realising that he heard her when he chuckled.

“Mind if I put on something then?”

Jules shook her head, signalling for him to go ahead while she poured their drinks. Soon afterwards Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the silence and her lips tugged up at the choice.

The couch dipped beside her when Harry sat down, the scent of his cologne invading her senses. Jules doesn’t think anyone has ever smelled as good as him, but she chose to keep that thought to herself and instead handed him his drink.

A few moments of silence passed after he quietly thanked her, Stevie’s voice the only thing that can be heard.

“So,” he started, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, “would I find any 1D posters if I went into your room?”

“Oh fuck you.” She threw one of the cushions at him, smiling at the way he threw his head back in laughter.

Jules did not mind his company at all.

“Hold on a minute,” Harry straightened up from his previously relaxed position on the couch, “you all work together and you see him and his new girlfriend every day?”

“Yup, you can imagine how fun that is.” She loved her job as an accountant, having always been fascinated with numbers, but she hated having to see him every day in the office across from hers.

It’s not like she hated him, they actually ended on good terms, all things considered. Leon wasn’t bad, he never cheated on her, but the feelings between them just died out, a flicker of something that dwindled into nothing. So, they were friendly with each other and that’s probably the reason why he brought her a box of chocolate and a rose.

But Juliet just didn’t like the daily reminder that she was in fact much lonelier than he was; it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.

“Shit, Jules, that must be hard,” he frowns, leaning forward to pat her hand, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“It’s not that serious,” she mumbles, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks at the simple touch and she mentally cursed herself. She had sworn off men for the unforeseeable future. “I’m over him. You know, I actually think I was never really in love with him to begin with.”

“Why’d you think that?” He questions, his thumb still softly caressing her hand; Jules wasn’t sure if he was aware of that or was absentmindedly doing it. Either way, the touch warmed her.

“I think,” she started, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table so she could sink in further into the couch, the move unintentionally bringing her body closer to Harry’s. “I think I was just happy to have someone around, someone to spend time with. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone and I think I just clung onto him because he kept me company.”

A few beats of silence passed before she continued. “That makes me sound horrible, no, it’s not like I used him, I did enjoy his company and we had a lot of fun together, but I think I was just in love with the idea of him, not him.”

Harry nodded his head, leaning back and mirroring her position, “I understand. That’s how I felt in most of my relationships actually. I longed to have someone around so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I’ve learned over the years that having company doesn’t mean that you won’t feel lonely.”

“You sounded pretty heartbroken on your last record though.” If she wasn’t as inebriated as she was, Jules would have probably had some filter and wouldn’t have said that.

Luckily, Harry chuckled in response and relaxed further into the couch, retracting his hand from hers (she instantly missed the warmth), but he didn’t seem upset. “I was. I would say that I was actually falling in love with her, so I was a bit of a mess when she left me.”

His words made her frown. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She muttered under her breath, forgetting that she was usually louder than normal after she’s had a few drinks.

“Could say the same thing about you.”

With her cheeks flushed, Jules forced herself to look him in the eye again. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I’d like to get to know you.” He almost instantly shot back, resting his chin on his hand and his dimples made an appearance, “I think you’re very interesting.”

“Pfft, me? Interesting?” She laughed, waving him off with her hand. “I am anything but.”

“That’s not true!” Harry vehemently denied, sounding almost offended at the thought, which admittedly made Jules’ heart skip a beat. Just a little.

“I’ve spent a few hours with you now and I can already confidently say that you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” his eyes shone bright as she stared into them and she could somehow tell he was being sincere, “and trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.”

Dramatically placing a hand over her heart, Jules flashed him her biggest smile. “Oh how special that makes me feel, I can just die happily now.”

Even though she was being melodramatic, his words did cause Jules’ heart to flutter. In the past, some people told her she was annoying, or brash, and some others would make her feel invisible and undeserving of attention.

Harry, though, was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment they met, Harry made her feel like the centre of his attention, never once ignored her or brushed her off, even when she was taking the piss; his emerald eyes were always set on her, giving her his undivided attention as he listened to every word that came out of her mouth.

Jules was definitely not used to that.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, a sound that Jules found to be a beautiful melody, and gazed at her with those bright eyes. “Oh you’re insufferable, I take it back.”

She gasped in feigned shock, crossing her arms with force. “No backsies.”

Another melodic laugh left Harry’s mouth and she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips; right then and there, Jules decided that his laugh was one of her favourite sounds.

“Backsies?” He echoed, his tone still laced with laughter, “what are you, five?”

“Shut your pretty mouth.”

“Oh so you think I have a pretty mouth?” His smirk caused his skin to flush and she cursed herself for saying those words. She really needed to think before she spoke, something her parents always reminded her of.

She recovered quickly, bringing her glass closer to her mouth. “I mean, it’s fine, your lips are a little on the thin side but-“

“Heyyy now,” he protested, pink lips forming a pout and Jules definitely thought about kissing them at that moment. “That’s not nice.”

“Never claimed I was nice now, did I?” Jules smirked, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as she took another sip from her drink.

Jules did not miss the way Harry’s eyes seemed to darken just a little, his jaw tensing as she continued to stare him down. Harry leaned forward, mouth opening to respond when suddenly a shrill tone burst their bubble.

Patting the couch cushions, Jules was trying her hardest to forget the look on Harry’s face as she searched for her phone. Stop it, Jules, he’s an international rockstar and he won’t even remember you after tonight.

She sighed in relief when her hand made contact with the device, but that quickly turned into a groan upon seeing who the caller was. Looking back at Harry, who was leaning against the armrest simply staring at her, she shot him an apologetic look before she answered the call.

“Hey, mama” she closed her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Not that she was expecting anything to happen between her and Harry, but the mood was definitely ruined now.

“Hello, honey, how are you? Are you home yet?” Her mother’s calming voice sounded from the other side of the line, making her smile a bit despite the interruption. Ever since the breakup, her mom made sure to call her frequently to check up on her, even though Jules insisted that she didn’t have to.

“I am home, mom, yes,” she responded, shifting her gaze back to Harry who was now leaning his head against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.

“Good, good. Just checking on you, cariña, how was your night then?”

“It was fine,” she paused for a second, not sure if she should mention meeting Harry now, but she decided it was best not to, “had a few drinks then went straight home. Think I’m gonna go to bed in a few actually.”

She could tell by the way Harry’s lips twitched that he was awake and listening.

“I won’t keep you up then,” some noise was in the background and she heard her mother whisper to someone, “okay, honey, good night! And your dad says good night too.”

“Good night, mama,” Jules smiled, finding herself suddenly missing her family that she hasn’t seen since the holiday season. “Tell dad I said good night too, and that he better spoil you today.”

Her mother’s laugh ringed loud on the other side, “We’re going to dinner tonight, cariña, and he even got me a large bouquet of my favourite roses! Joseph shh- Alright then, bye bye, sweets, love you!”

“Bye, mama, love you too.”

A few seconds passed after she ended the call before Harry spoke up, head tilted to the side. “That sounded sweet. Does she check up on you often?”

Jules hummed in response, resting her head sideways on the sofa so was mirroring his position. “Especially after the breakup. She just worries too much about me.”

“I don’t think she needs to,” he shot her a gentle smile, one that made her want to wrap her arms around him and bask in his warmth, “her daughter’s a very strong woman.”

Not finding any words to say in response, Jules continued tracing Harry’s features, lazily admiring the slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sharpness of his jawline; everything about the man before her was mesmerising.

Turning her gaze back to his eyes, Harry flashed her another smile before sitting up straight, the smile slowly dropping. “I should probably go now, it’s getting late.”

Jules immediately wanted to shout “no!” and ask him to stay, but the rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn’t, that she would only set herself up for heartbreak when he finally leaves her.

So the only thing she could say was a faint “Okay.”

As they stood up, it seemed like Harry was holding back from saying something, but she didn’t know if she was just reading too much into things. It was probably just her hazy mind (though she’d argue her head has never been clearer)

They silently made their way to her door, Jules feeling deflated at the prospect of his departure. Would they keep in touch? Would she just become a distant memory, a miserable woman he spent a lonely valentine’s day with?

“Can I-“ Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Jules to almost run into his back because she was trailing behind him. His demeanour was suddenly all shy when he turned to face her, cheeks flushed crimson.

Jules waited with bated breath and wide eyes for him to continue, heart beating loudly in her chest.

“Can I have your number?”

Relief washed over Jules and Harry visibly relaxed at the bashful smile on her lips. Jules didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the sight was so endearing to her.

She added her number after he handed her the device, secretly smiling at her contact name Juliet x. She already earned herself an x after her name after a few hours? Jules’ heart was beating so loudly she feared Harry would hear its calls for him.

Jules watched him put his shoes on, wishing the night wouldn’t end so soon and wondering if it would be too forward to ask him to stay longer.

Deep in her thoughts, Jules didn’t register that Harry was standing in front of her, bodies close enough that the scent of his cologne engulfed her senses once more.

“I should go now.” Harry whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her and Jules had never felt so whole. She’s heard about Harry’s incredible hugs and now that she’s experiencing it, she never wanted to let go of his warmth.

Harry broke their embrace much too soon for her liking, but not before peppering a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “Good night, Juliet.”

Say something. Don’t let him leave. “Good night, H.”

And then he was gone and Jules was left on her own once more.

After staring longingly at the closed door, as if he would suddenly appear behind it, Jules sighed and made her way back to the living room, slumping against the couch cushions and wishing Harry’s arms were around her again.

Her phone dinged on the coffee table, signalling the arrival of a text. A simple “Hey. I really enjoyed tonight. H” was staring back at her.

Jules contemplated for a few seconds, heartbeats picking up their speed again, before she whispered “fuck it” and clicked on his number.

“Juliet?”

Deciding to go after what her heart wants for once, Jules didn’t hesitate to respond, “Do you want to-“

But an insistent knock interrupted her and Jules wanted to scream at the intrusion. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour?

“Harry, hold on just-“

She takes frustrated strides to the door, ready to yell, but the sight behind it made her anger immediately evaporate.

“H-Harry? What are you doin-“

“What were you going to ask me?” He interrupted, sounding a little out of breath and she wondered if he ran all the way back to her apartment.

Feeling emboldened by his return, Jules took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands immediately grabbing her face and pulling her closer, their lips joining together in a gentle yet eager kiss. 

Jules felt her body melt in his hold. Their kiss only lasted for a few seconds before they pulled apart, still lingering so close that she could taste his wine-stained lips. 

“Stay?” Jules asked, rubbing her nose against his, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for his answer. Her words carried more weight than she had intended them to and she hoped they wouldn’t scare him off. But her worries vanished when she felt him smile widely against her lips. 

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and please come talk to me about Harry and Jules and tell me your thoughts!

[changebydjo]

IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ

 so i’ve put off writing this for a long, long time, and it’ll be painful for me to make this post but at this point i feel like it needs to be done. someone within the liz fandom has been lying, gaslighting and manipulating me as well as many others, both online and offline, and after getting proof on everything (plus their lack of remorse) has prompted me to write this.

this is about gil perez, aka @unrated-g, and one of his irl friends, kim @kimbus-the-whimbus, to a lesser extent, but mostly gil. since 2016 - nearly 5 years now - he’s been lying that he’s best friends with liz gillies. i’m gonna put a read more because it’s a long, insane, and ridiculous thing that happened, but please read all of it and know how serious this is, as well as all the damage this man has done.

​

i met gil through tumblr in 2018 - he had been replying my posts since before that, but early 2018 is when i followed him and started chatting with him casually. over time, i noticed that he would reblog posts about liz and in the tags he would seem to be talking to her or referencing her, but not by her name - instead he would call her “goblin”. he would mention things that “goblin” liked or behind the scenes on dynasty stuff, and after a few weeks of noticing this and chatting with him about dynasty/liz, i ended up asking him if he was friends with liz/knew her personally because of the way he spoke about her. he confirmed to me that he knew her, she was one of his best friends, and he “didn’t expect” anyone to pick up on it. he told me to keep it private and i agreed, obviously, because i had no reason to not trust him, and i know that liz values her privacy.

it’s important to note that liz does NOT follow him or any of his accounts from her verified twitter or instagram accounts - instead, he said she had an “extremely private” encrypted tumblr account that could only be seen by people she follows/white listed. he was one of them. her blog would not show up for anyone else, and they met through tumblr in 2016 (even though he said she followed him back in 2010 and he didn’t realize until 6 years later) through their mutual love for uncharted, and bonded over playing uncharted 4 multiplayer together. it’s also important to note that liz has had 2 tumblr accounts since 2010, both of which she has abandoned, and he said that her private tumblr is separate from those two. she also was friends with him (according to him) through PSN, where they would play ps4 games together, and all of his text convos with her are from that app:

(^ “liz’s” PSN account)

throughout all of 2018, we would text on a regular basis and started becoming good friends. he was extremely kind, always willing to be there for me, and listened to me about not only fandom stuff but also my irl problems. he also became friends with my friend group, who were also in the liz fandom, and it was really nice for a while. in october of 2018, gil said he went to HHN with liz and matt in LA, and for xmas of 2018, he said he spent it with liz - both in LA and in NJ, which is what she typically does to spend her holidays with her family and friends. her pale blue eyes cover was also for him, according to gil, because he asked for her to cover it specifically and she did just for him.

gil would also occasionally stream for friends, and sometimes liz would show up:

beginning of 2019 is when gil and i started getting much closer - we started playing games together (mostly mario kart, at the beginning) and talking through voice chat. he would talk about liz and personal things about her/her life or dynasty, and he always willingly supplied that information himself - i never asked for it, i wasn’t friends with him to get information on liz or have an “in” with her. chatting with him made me feel good and happy and important to him, and i realized i started having feelings for him - which i told him about in april 2019. he said he wasn’t sure exactly how he felt but he thought he might feel the same, the only really complicated part (besides the fact that this was long distance/not irl) was that he also had a really deep crush on liz, someone who was his best friend/ultimate celeb crush. he was really like in love with her, even though he said he tried to suppress it. anyways, after me admitting that to him, our friendship started to develop into something more. we weren’t ever in an official relationship, but things were definitely not strictly platonic with us. we went from chatting once every week or two to almost every single night for 3-6 hours per night for MONTHS. throughout that time, our relationship became sexual, too, and my feelings for him just continued to get deeper and deeper.

this continues throughout the rest of 2019, and then new years 2020, everything just...goes to shit asap. gil got really distant with me with no explanation, i felt like all the affection he was showing me and the kind things he would say to me, as well as our bonding time when we would chat together, was just ripped away unexpectedly. i constantly asked what was wrong and what was happening, and told him how i feel, and i got no real response besides just being tired/non-sociable, etc. (which, for the record, is completely understandable, but it was such a huge 180 in behavior that it worried me and things never went back to normal after that). in addition to that, kim (who was mentioned at the beginning of this post) is one of his best friends irl, as well as his on again/off again ex (according to him). anyways, there were posts that she had made that indicated to them not being exes and instead still together - or at the very least not platonic - which crushed me when i found out, because until that point i had no reason not to trust him. i told him about it though, and how it hurt me because my feelings were so deep for him at that point i felt that i loved him, and he told me they weren’t together. this isn’t really necessary for the liz stuff of this post, but it’s important for context for how hurt and on edge i was already feeling before things got worse.

we would still chat maybe a few times a week, but nothing like it used to be, and i was happy we would even chat at all, even though things felt so weird and different and off, and no matter what i did, i couldn’t fix it. as 2020 started going on, and this continued, his friendship with liz started making me feel extremely uncomfortable. knowing that he had the weird boundaries with his ex, plus whatever was going on with me and him, AND that he was in love with liz?? it was unsettling. i felt like i couldn’t compare, because it’s *liz gillies*, someone i obviously love and idolize and look up to. and she was up on a pedestal for him, even though he said that he never tried to treat liz differently than his other close friends just bc of who she was, but that wasn’t true. anything that she said or did, he agreed with 100%, and would defend it. when he and i would chat, and i would mention something about dynasty that bothered me, he would talk about what liz’s thoughts were on it and how she felt and that she was right to feel that way and it made me feel awful. this happened on multiple occasions throughout various topics, from dynasty to fandom stuff to liz’s friendships/relationships, etc. no matter what, to gil, liz was always right and he always had an explanation for anything that happened. the way he would describe liz and the thing he said about her made me see her in a completely different light - she was not the same liz that she presented herself as, at least in gil’s eyes. 

he would always talk about how amazing liz was to him and how she did so much for him, such as buying him gifts, supporting his art, etc. this was hurtful to hear because i was doing the exact same things for him, as well as our group of friends: we had been buying his art (not only the art prints but the ACTUAL original copies), sending him gifts or money for gifts, supporting him and his art on social media, as well as just being a genuine friend to him. he never appreciated or thanked us the way that he thanked liz; none of us ever compared to her, even though we were doing the exact same thing for him that he said liz was doing, as well. it made me feel like no matter what i did, or how supportive i was, i was never enough.

we also had a discord with gil, that involved him, me, and my friends sarah, hope, amanda, and dom. within this discord, it’s worth noting that gil was the only man there, and would talk about liz and his friendship with her there, unprompted. we never asked for info, he volunteered everything willingly, and we all kind of glossed over it at the time because we weren’t friends with him for liz or any of that.

(the screenshot gil linked in the gc is what “liz’s” private encrypted blog looks like on his dash. please note the edit post button in the bottom right of the screenshot.)

another important thing about his friendship with liz/being in love with her: he has this specific kink (which i don’t want to say what it is for privacy reasons) and he said that liz was engaging in this kink herself, and that he was jealous of liz’s bf/wishes he could engage in it with liz, etc. i wasn’t into this kink before talking to him but because i had liked him so much at the time, and i was slightly jealous that he wanted it with liz, i thought that i could indulge in it for him. it was something that i was not physically or mentally prepared for/able to make happen, and it really caused an impact on me, and he just...didn’t care. at all.

anyways: this stuff continues, then around summer 2020, my friend sarah reached out to him. she (and my friends, along with me) were starting to distrust the things gil was saying about liz, since it went completely against what liz would say herself. she would say she only plays the sims 3 on her computer - he would say she was a huge gamer and played the sims 4 on ps4, along with minecraft, uncharted, the last of us, horizon zero dawn, etc. he would say that liz and maddison brown (her dynasty co-star) played ACNH with him and quickly got to 5 stars - liz said in a zach sang interview that she didn’t play animal crossing. every time something didn’t add up, his excuse was that liz was lying for her privacy. she didn’t follow gil on any verified social media accounts in case “people harassed him” over being friends with her. so sarah texted him that she needed to talk to him about the liz stuff, because there was evidence it wasn’t true, and he denied all of it. he firmly stuck to his story, and sarah gave him multiple chances over several days to come clean and he wouldn’t. she asked for simple pieces of proof that he could give her, and he wouldn’t besides fake screenshots of her “private blog”:

 he told me afterwards that if it comes between his friendship with liz or sarah’s, he’s picking liz - end of story. his and sarah’s friendship was done after that because of his decision. he blamed sarah for “ruining” liz and maddison’s friendship because of her asking for proof, and made her out to be the bad one in that situation. he ended up deleting the discord gc after this happened, with all of his screenshots/”info” as liz as well (we got screenshots of things before he deleted it though, much more that’s shown in this post).

about a month later, my friend léa also confronted him about it. gil had told her some things about liz’s “reaction” to meeting léa in paris, and at the time, it had made the experience more special for her. once she realized it was all lies, though, it really hurt her - he altered that special experience for her and twisted it into something that wasn’t real. he had the same reaction to léa’s conversation as he did to sarah’s, and he refused to tell the truth. their friendship was done with after, as well, along with a few other people from the liz fandom. i was the only one who stayed friends with him after that, and that was because i was closest with him and still trying to see if i could fix things with him. i was still naively believing that he would treat me okay again, he would make me feel important instead of always a backup option, that he wanted me again. 

but of course that never happened. he continued to ignore me, talk to me less and less, and would subtweet me on his private account. after he stopped being friends with sarah and léa and everyone blocked him except for me, i was the only follower on his private account, as well as being the only person he followed there. gil, though, kept saying that liz had a “private twitter” where she would talk to him on his private account. he also said that he had “merged twitter accounts” into one, which was his private, which messed up his account and wouldn’t show who he was replying to, quote rts, or that he was following them, which - if you have a twitter, you KNOW none of that can actually happen. but it was his excuse to constantly subtweet me and my friends for not believing him, to maintain his story, AND to have convos with “liz” on there that only i could see, where he made it sound like he was talking shit about me to her. it was extremely manipulative and served no purpose except to fuck with me, because he knew that i was the only one seeing those tweets and knew i was already struggling with not knowing what to believe. here’s some of them:

(you can very clearly see that i’m the only follower/following on that account, the number is at literally 1, and he STILL was acting like he was talking to someone else and that other people were following him.)

now comes jan. 2021!! WE GOT DEFINITE PROOF THAT IT WAS ALL LIES. from multiple people. one of liz’s close best friends (that gil included in his stories about her, saying that he met them) said that they don’t know who gil is, have never met him, and it’s best for us all to block him for our own safety. a co-worker of liz’s (who was, again, included in gil’s lies, that he hung out with them multiple times, played games with them online, and bought him gifts) said that not only had they never met gil, but EVERYTHING he said about them was untrue. they even listed the inaccuracies he would say about them, such as gil taking photos of them at things like the SWT, and they confirmed who actually took the photo. they said that “none of it is fucking true” and that gil is a narcissistic liar, and also encouraged us to block him for our own safety. 

i confronted gil myself about this a few weeks ago, and he continued to maintain his story that everyone’s lying to protect his privacy - even though we know for sure that wasn’t the case. he FINALLY owned up to it to me only once he saw i had proof and he was caught, and his reason for doing it was “he was bored”. he said he was sorry but he wasn’t truly apologetic - he either didn’t fully realize the scope of how hurtful his lies and manipulations were, or he just didn’t care, but the bottom line is that he always chose his fantasy of liz over his actual friends. around this time, once he knew he was caught, he also deactivated his private account, but brought it back a week or so later, with all of the subtweets and tweets about liz being deleted. all of the unverified accounts that were supposed to be liz - the tumblr account, psn, twitch, etc. - were all fake and made by him, so he could make it seem more real.

even if he WAS telling the truth about being friends with liz, he still would have completely violated her privacy by the amount of “secret” things he told all of us - from her kinks/sex life, to work life, to very personal things that he claims happened to her. knowing it’s all fake though, and he made up an entire personality and life for liz that doesn’t exist??? it’s insane.

now the part with kim - she’s known gil irl for over 10 years, and has tweeted about liz all the time, about how “good” liz is to her because of gil, and that she’s the one who encouraged him to talk to her. she brags about it constantly, even though none of it is real. she also tweeted multiple times throughout 2018-2019 about how gil “finally deserves to meet liz in person”, even though gil said he met liz irl back in 2017 or so - AND that she came to texas, where he lives, to meet him and his friends. when asked about her tweets, he said that kim’s account was “messed up” and her tweets weren’t “tweeted at the right time”. one of my friends reached out to tell her and show her the proof of gil lying, because gil has been lying to her and other people irl too, and instead she mocked us, belittled us, and chose not to believe a group of women coming to her about a 30 year old (!!) man manipulating us. gil said that kim was “aware of it all being a lie for years now” to me, but i think that was another lie, that he’s STILL lying to her about it. if not, then that means that kim was also lying for many years about knowing liz too, and used it to make us all the butt of her joke, so. so much for her being an “empath” and wanting to help people but anyways!!

the last screenshot is of her subtweeting us and implying that everyone involved with liz is lying for her and gil’s privacy, even though we have proof that that simply isn’t true.

i’m sorry for how long this is, but i need people to understand how serious this is. he’s been lying for 5 YEARS now about knowing liz - about her “accidentally sending nudes” to him, that gil is one of her best friends and he would’ve been at her wedding, that she’s a huge gamer who plays with him - all of it. it’s all lies. he created a fantasy version of liz that doesn’t exist, and incorporated into his real life, his friendships both online and off, and made it his entire personality. he’s not sorry about what he’s done - as i’m writing this, he’s still on tumblr, talking in the tags to “liz” again, because he’d rather uphold his fantasy life where he’s best friends with liz when in reality, she has no idea he even exists. and if she did, i’m certain that she would be disgusted with what he’s done. he lied about her, oversexualized her, used his kinks on her which was brought onto me - someone he knew that was vulnerable and had feelings for him, manipulated people into trying to believe his lies, gaslit people to make them unable to tell what was true and what was fake, and had absolutely zero respect for any of us. he even listened to me cry to him on the phone MULTIPLE times about how insecure and worthless i felt to him compared to liz, and he didn’t do ANYTHING about it. he sat there and listened to me cry, knowing he could own up to his lie, and he chose not to. he’s not sorry about what he’s done, and he’s going to continue to spread his lies. please block him. i can’t express how much he’s hurt me, the therapy that i need to have because of him, how much he’s hurt my friends and how little he respects women in general tbh. he always tried to come off as “one of the good guys” but now i know he’s harmful and not to be trusted. he even tried to separate me from my friends, and make it seem like they’re the ones making this situation even harder for him. i’ve tried so, so many times to get through to him, waiting to see if he’d change or show some remorse or anything, but after over a year of this i don’t think he will, and it genuinely hurts me to know that. BLOCK HIM.

[pastelwitchling]

It’s that time of year again, folks. Goodness, that feels odd to say after so long. Watching this episode, I realized that I truly do not care about anyone except Alex, and occasionally the pod squad 😂 I’ve watched each of Alex’s scenes at least three times at this point, and watched Isobel mention Alex to Michael twice, but I did also watch the rest of the episode, so without further ado, grab a nice cup of tea, maybe a snack, because here are my (mostly Alex) thoughts on last night’s season 3 premiere.

I was bored watching everyone else 😅 I think a lot of it stemmed from frustration. I still cannot get over the fact that this whole narrative is treating Max like the one in the wrong when it’s undoubtedly Liz. I’m also not a fan of the storyline where the female character is just constantly fawned over by every handsome guy she meets. It seems like wherever Liz is, whoever she’s working with, they’re always so in love with her, singing her praises and doing everything for her. I just dislike it because it feels very much like pandering, like the woman would never survive if there was someone who acted like, you know, a human around her as oppose to a worshipper. It wasn’t a big thing, I just had to roll my eyes quite a bit.

Kyle. That man needs a break. Thank God, they were going with what I hoped, and ended his relationship with Steph in a throwaway line. That moment he shared with Isobel was so touching, I couldn’t stand it. Huh. Scratch that, I only care about Alex, malex, forlex, the pod squad, and Kyle. That kylex moment - I can’t. Please, God, let this season have so many more kylex moments. I also love kybel, I love their relationship. More Kyle, Alex, and Isobel please.

I don’t like Maria with Gregory. I want redemption for her, but I don’t think she can get that if they have her with another Manes. Just... keep her away from the Manes men. I do not want her near the Manes men. I’m not mortified by it, per say, but I do strongly dislike it right now. It might grow on me later, depending on how she acts.

I will say though I did appreciate the, “You know, Alex is back. Are you here to invite me to the wedding?” This was what I’d hoped from her from the beginning, supporting malex getting together! So long as they don’t mention an “ex” again throughout the show, I’ll be happy. The best thing they can do at this point is pretend the tragedy of season 2 never happened.

(Side note: I’d really love it if Maria stopped taking every chance she got to insult Michael. That’d be nice. Or if they’re going to do it, let someone call her out on it. Like, it’s okay if you scold a woman or give her a genuine flaw that people acknowledge. She’s not made of glass.)

Max looked so cute, I could die. Isn’t he just gorgeous when he’s all tortured? 😂😍❤ I love him. That moment when he listened to Liz’s recording had me near tears. He’s just so tired and so frightened and I think Nathan Dean really nailed the emotion. Have I said I love him yet? I love him. 

I enjoyed the pod squad moments, I love Michael and Max’s relationship, I love seeing Isobel and Michael work together to save Max, I love the family of it, it’s so heartwarming.

Now. Malex. Y’all. Words cannot express how I felt when Michael stopped in front of that shop window to fix his hair. That is some fanfic stuff I would write, my heart jumped, I had to hide my smile I felt so bashful, like I was suddenly intruding on a private moment. And then the way Michael reacted to Maria? I love how they showed he didn’t want nor could take any comfort in her. Not in animosity towards Maria (well, maybe a little), but in the fact that you just know she could never do that for him like Alex could and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise anymore. I thought it was a bit of a missed opportunity with malex, as they could’ve had Michael show that he wanted and needed that comfort from Alex, but hopefully they’re just waiting to have a big scene with them in 3x03, since Alex isn’t in 3x02.

Forlex. The kisses, the moment in bed, Alex’s smirk when Forrest asked him if he got in okay (😱), my heart was thrashing. And, well, I won’t pretend my heart isn’t broken that it’s already over. I freaking love forlex, I love Forrest so much, hats off to Christian Antidormi who came in and really just knocked it out of the park. I think the show was made all the better, and Alex all the happier, for having had him. I’m not angry or too upset about it though, because I’ll still be writing the forlex merman  au bonus story, I’ll still love them together, and I’ll keep Forrest in my heart forever. Also, the missed opportunities with Wyatt Long they could’ve had, really emphasizing how both Alex and Forrest are the black sheep of their families -- it would’ve been brilliant.

Not to mention, as a storyteller myself, I do think it was a little rushed the way Deep Sky was explained and then Forrest leaving, but in truth, I guess I’ve just lived with forlex over the whole hiatus, I’ve written about them so often, that I feel like I spent the past year with them so the scene is very emotionally heavy to me, and I could feel and understand Alex’s tears at seeing this one man who had allowed him so much freedom to just be leaving like that for good.

I am, however, very hopeful for malex’s friendship this season. I do think, realistically, it would be much easier for them to get closer without Forrest there, but at the same time -- again, missed opportunity. The way Alex was already being given E Clearance, like the badass he is, I got goosebumps 🤩😍

I am feeling emotional, hopeful, inspired. I want to write like crazy, which -- as anyone who’s been following me lately and read about my mental breakdown may know -- is the greatest gift anyone could give me. And it all came from Alex, Forrest, and Malex. Who’s shocked? Not me.

I genuinely can’t wait to see what happens the rest of the episodes. I am ready for the (hopefully) wonderful and heartwarming surprises. Already, this season looks promising.

[rosycheekedandsmilin]

Here Comes the Sun

Here Comes the Sun

Luke Patterson Imagine

Summary: Luke sees you at one of the boys’ practice sessions.

Warnings: just fluff with a hint of angst, I think. There is a mention of a pregnancy rumor and implied bullying, but not extensively

(A/N: I’m soooo sorry this took so long. Things have been hectic. Also, this would be before they died back in 1995. Plus, I’m new to all this so any recommendations, comments, tips, etc would be appreciated)

You had told your friend, Dianne, that you had homework to do, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. The boys of Sunset Curve were rising quickly on the LA scene and your friend was just one of the many to join their legions of female fans. It also helped that they happened to go to school with you. You couldn’t deny that they were all pretty cute, but you sided with many when you decided you had a preference for the front man: Luke Patterson.

You both used to be close your freshman year, but after he joined Sunset Curve your sophomore year, you both went your separate ways. You’d actually seen him several times in the hallways this year when he wasn’t surrounded by girls. He would be stepping in time with some imaginary beat, his fingers plucking on the old messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. He was always looking up, ever the optimist, looking at the horizon like only good things could ever come his way. His bottom lip caught in his teeth through a beaming smile, his hair brushing along his long eyelashes-

Whew. He was gorgeous.

And trigonometry homework could wait for you to see that gorgeous again up close.

The boys would sometimes hold open practice for a few fans to come watch and hang out, but it was starting to become exclusive as more people began to show up than they had room for.

Thus, your friend lept at the opportunity when she cornered Reggie alone in World History. You giggled at his adorable smile as your friend twirled her hair and flirted his socks off. Before you knew it, she was running back to you with a grin and the promise to see the band practice that coming Thursday after school.

You dressed in some simple mom jeans and a graphic tshirt tied at the waist, hopefully to flatter your figure. Dianne guaranteed you looked “smokin’ hot”, in her words. 4:10 struck and you both got in her car to head that way. The practice started at 4:00, but Dianne told you repeatedly that being fashionably late would set you both apart from the crowd.

On the way to the studio garage, you found yourself extremely nervous. You didn’t even fully know why; it was just a band, just a boy. It wasn’t a date or you throwing yourself at him, but you couldn’t help the fluttering feeling in your stomach at the thought of seeing Luke Patterson perform before a selected crowd, you being one of them.

Meanwhile, the boys were starting to warm up when Reggie started rambling.

“Isn’t it weird that no one comes on Thursdays?”

Bobby snickered. Alex and Luke shared a look before Alex turned to Reggie.

“Dude, that’s because the school has lacrosse games on Thursdays. No one wants to be here when our team is on a winning streak.”

Reggie thought a moment before laughing at himself.

“Oh yeah! I completely forgot. Then Dianne must have forgot too.”

Luke, Alex and Bobby all turned back to Reggie.

Luke spoke up this time.

“Dianne as in Dianne Parker?”

Reggie nodded. Luke’s eyes widened.

“Dianne Parker, as in friends with-“

Reggie smiled. “Yep. Y/n y/l/n.”

Bobby turned to Luke.

“Isn’t that the girl you’ve liked since-“

“-freshman year. Yeah,” Luke sighed.

He turned to Alex, but Alex waved him off.

“Even I have to admit the puppy dog eyes you used to get around her.”

Luke smiled softly, falling back into a memory.

You and he had been lab partners in Chemistry your freshman year, as well as shared a homeroom together. This was back before he was introduced to the music that saved his life, so he was still a shy little kid. He hadn’t found the passion that spurred him to connect to people. You, on the other hand, were everything he wished he could be: kind, smart, and courageous.

You weren’t quite an extrovert, but you always made sure others felt included and valued. When someone fell quiet during group discussion, you encouraged them to speak up and always made sure they knew you valued their input. When he would inevitably get an answer wrong in class, you would quietly show him the correct answer and explain it to him in a way that he didn’t feel stupid. And you would regularly invite people eating alone to join your small group of friends.

There came a point where Luke’s parents pushed him to get a tutor because of his failing grades, and you offered immediately after hearing about it. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you both would meet in the public library after school. As time went on, Luke grew to enjoy your time together and even grew a crush, but he never thought you would like the little shy kid that couldn’t speak up for himself. Then his sophomore year, his parents gifted him with his first guitar and it changed him forever. He connected with people in a way he never had before. By the time he worked up the courage to tell you how he really felt, you were in your first relationship with Danny Fenton, the star quarterback.

Luke just had to watch as you walked with him everyday and cheered him on the loudest on Friday night football games. Then, you had a messy break up. Not even a week later, a rumor spread that it was because you had cheated and were pregnant. It was a nasty, false rumor, but enough people believed it that you moved away your junior year.

In the meantime, Luke had already formed a band and was rising through the social ranks. When he learned you had moved back your senior year, he flipped. Still, he could never find the nerve to talk to you again, and you kept your head low to avoid the social radar.

That all changed today. The boys cornered Reggie.

“Is she coming today?” Luke asked.

Reggie gulped, his eyes darting between the three faces in front of him.

“I-I don’t know! Dianne just stopped me in world history and started asking about the band and Luke and-“

“She asked about me?”

“Well, yeah and she was twirling her hair and you know I have a thing about hair-“

“Did she mention anything about y/n?” Alex piped in.

“Well, she said that she and a friend wanted to watch practice today-“

“A friend? I’m sure it’s her,” Luke spoke to himself, running his fingers through the scruff on the back of his neck.

“Dude, are you gonna be okay?” Bobby asked, the three other boys staring nervously at Luke’s retreated figure.

He turned slowly, his deep hazel eyes wide in uncertainty.

“Well,” he said, taking in a breath, his shoulders dropping in finality, “it’s now or never.”

•••••

“We’re here!” Dianne cheered as her mom’s van screeched to a halt in the drive of the studio garage.

Forget the butterflies, hornets filled your stomach now. And they were angrily looking for a way out.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked weerily, holding your stomach.

“Absolutely!” Dianne beamed, turning to you from the front seat.

Your eyes finally caught the obvious problem outside your window.

“Um, Di?”

“Hmm?”

You blanched.

“Where is everyone?”

“Oh. My. Gosh. Well, what do you know! I must have completely forgot that everyone goes to the lacrosse games on Thursdays! Looks like we’re the only ones to watch today!”

It took all the zen you had not to throttle her little neck.

“Why do you hate me?” You cried out.

She giggled. “‘S all love, darling.”

“Dianne,” you begged, “you know our history.”

“And I know your chemistry too.”

You let out a small wail and looked out the tinted window at the studio garage. The doors were closed, but you could hear the muffled sound of guitars and drums warming up still.

Dianne had already stepped out of the van.

“Y/n, c’mon. We’re already late.”

“That was your idea!”

She held out her hand, giving you a pleading look.

“Di, I don’t know if I’m ready to face him again. So much had happened since-“

“Since you realized you liked him? And Danny got jealous and started that rumor?”

You nodded.

“Darling, that is the past. This is the now.”

“But what if-“

“Can I let you in on a little secret?”

You took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

A small smile made its way onto her face.

“Reggie told me that Luke still has it bad for you.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re lying.”

She shook her head, smiling.

“I’m completely serious. That’s one of the reasons that Reggie was so excited to have us come today.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And what was the other reason?”

Dianne blushed.

“I may have told him that I would make out with him under the bleachers tomorrow at lunch.”

You smiled softly at her.

You were still a scarlet letter when you came back to school, so you couldn’t find anyone willing to be seen with your reputation. That was until you met Dianne, who was known as a serial home-wrecker. That wasn’t true, of course, but a bended truth of a spited ex-girlfriend. Still, she’d had more romantic exploits than you could count on your fingers and toes.

“C’mon, (y/n). Prince Charming is waitin’ for ya.”

You blushed as you made your way out.

•••••

There was a knock on the studio doors and three heads snapped up.

Alex, Reggie and Bobby all looked to each other and Luke.

Luke was facing a nook in the back, his headphones playing from a Walkman. He was still trying to see if he could learn the riff from Wonderwall by Oasis before you came in, but none of the boys wanted to be the one to nudge him with the way he was practically vibrating in his seat.

They shared a silent look before Reggie nodded knowingly.

“Rock, paper, scissors, boys.”

Alex turned to him, blinking.

“Reggie, there’s three of us. That’s not gonna- ok.”

Alex walked up to the door and opened it to reveal you and Dianne, both smiling nervously.

“Hellooo, Dianne,” Reggie crooned as Dianne waved at him, a suave smile painting his features. Dianne giggled beside you and you found yourself bristling with nerves. 

“Uh, hey, y/n,” Alex greeted you warmly, nudging Bobby forward as well to greet you. 

You pressed your lips in an awkward smile and forced your hand up into a wave. Your mind began to get caught in a cycle.

I should not have come I should not have come I should not have come-

“Hey, y/n, welcome to our practice. Because you both made the wonderful choice to come watch today, we have decided to gift you with free merch!” Reggie grinned, winking at Dianne. 

“Reggie, all our merch is free-” Alex started, but Reggie pressed a finger to his lips, pressing them to the side as Alex glared at him. Bobby laughed and you quickly joined in, eager to rid yourself of your nerves. You all began to fall into comfortable banter and the boys were hilarious. Dianne was flirtingly feeling up Reggie’s bicep, asking him about his workout schedule. 

“Oh, yeah,” Reggie said, his voice jokingly low and gruff. He flexed his arm. “I have quite a regime.” 

Alex scoffed. “What regime? Your type of workout is chasing down the ice cream truck and lifting meatball subs to your mouth.”

“Hey,” Reggie said, turning to Alex with a look of betrayal on his face, “it is an intense regime none the less!”

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound from the back corner.

You stiffened.

The boys had forgotten about the tense guitarist behind them, who had been blocked from your and Dianne’s view by their figures.

A footstep. Another. Then another.

The boys parted and your heart stopped.

Two perfectly sparkling hazel eyes looked up at you through brown tasseled hair. And there it was, that beaming smile that warmed every inch of your body.

You were thrown back three years to the vision of that shy boy with a nervous bounce asking you for help with number three.

That same boy stood before you now, gazing at you like you were a triple-chocolate sundae surprise, a brand new guitar, an open stage, a raging crowd, and every answer he would ever need, all wrapped up in one person.

 “Hello there, Sunshine,” he said, at last.

[gxccistyless]

Fine Line: The Divorce Series - part two.

In case you missed part one you can find it here. Feedback always appreciated in any form. Feel free to message me if you have any questions!! 

Trigger warnings for this include; mentions of death, drug and alcohol abuse. 

It’s ten passed twelve when Eliza opens her eyes for the first time, she hadn’t slept a good nights sleep since Fallon’s diagnosis but last night she didn’t wake not once.They had her funeral yesterday, she doesn’t remember much, she thinks this is probably partially why she was able to sleep so well, knowing that Fallon was finally resting at her forever home. Harry helped to organise the funeral and had been more available to both her and their other two children in the lead up to it and insisted in paying for it in full. But yesterday was too much for him, he left somewhere between the wake and the kids’ bed time and Eliza hadn’t heard from him since.  Harry woke up in his apartment for the first time in weeks, he’d be living at Eliza’s in the spare room from the time when things got to be too much for Eliza to handle on her own. He missed his bed and the peace and quiet, but he’d never allow himself to say those words out loud. Right in between losing her and laying her to rest, they celebrated her birthday. Gemma thought it would be a good idea to acknowledge the day instead of pushing it to the side, Harry just kind of wanted to push through and try and get through the day, but Eliza liked the idea of being able to blow out a candle for Fallon and so to appease his ex-wife’s needs and support her through her grief, Harry bit his tongue And they did just that, celebrated her. 

elizadoherty 4 years ago you made me a mama sweet angel baby Fallon. I miss you, thanks for changing my life 🕊 Liked by harrystyles, niallhoran and 12,378,346 others,

 The funeral came around quicker than he had anticipated, it kind of crept up on him. After today things would go back to the way they were before Fallon got sick snd Harry wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He wasn’t ready to be away from Koa and Lennon, or even Eliza for that matter. Everyone was so wrapped up in supporting Eliza on the day, they had forgot that Harry had lost a child too. So distracted by Eliza, no one noticed Harry when he slipped out in the middle of her wake, no one but Eliza.

There was no communication between the two in the weeks that followed, he locked himself in the studio with only a select few people and she was trying to get back to somewhat of a normal routine with the twins. He was making good progress with an album, it wasn’t as upbeat as previous albums had been but it just reflected what he was going through and how he was feeling. With no communication and his lack of interest in their other two children Eliza goes ahead and books a court date to finalise their divorce. Harry is leaving the studio when he gets words of the court date being set, he heads straight to the bar.  Harry is on his sixth drink when he finally gets a hold of Eliza. I miss you he tells her We just lost — we just — how can you even be thinking about finalising our divorce. She cries and that’s when he knows he’s fucked up. Eliza don’t cry, I’m sorry, I’m such a fuck up, it should have been me, not her... Eliza knows she should hang up the phone, call Gemma let her deal with him and go back to bed. Instead she asks Harry for his location, calls a sitter and by the time she heads to the bar its almost 10pm. 

Eliza finds Harry in the corner booth, away from prying eyes and away from windows with his back toward the rest of the people in the pub. By now he’s lost count of how many drinks he’s consumed. She orders herself a scotch on the rocks. The bartender looks between her and Harry and wonders what they must be going through to have lead them here tonight. They sit in silence mostly, Harry throwing back three drinks in the time it tasked Eliza to finish the one she ordered herself when she first got here. The bartender draws a line in the sand and cuts Harry off, he pays for his long bar tab remembering to ask the bartender to include Elizas scotch on the rocks and then he goes to leave. 

Harry makes it all the way to his car before realising he cannot find his keys. When he reaches the bar door she’s standing out front her arms crossed over her chest,p. You didn’t think I’d let you drive home in your state did you?  My children have already buried their sister this year, I’m not about to let them bury their father too. The words Eliza said to drunk Harry would play on sober minded Harry in the weeks to come. She half carries him to her car and takes him home with her. For the first time since they split, he sleeps in the same bed as her it’s only so I know if you stop breathing and to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit. Eliza watches Harry breathe for the rest of the night, much like she watched Fallon take breaths in and out until she took her last, the only difference here is that Harry never stops breathing. Somewhere between 4am and 7am she doses off and Harry slips out of her sheets and out her back door before she’s awake. Eliza canceled their court date again, realising that perhaps Harry needed time to grieve before they started to go down this path.

harrystyles ALBUM . IS. COMPLETE, Coming to you soon, happy holidays. All the love, H xx Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 20,368,289 others. 

Harry finished writing his album just before Christmas, it was literally the fastest album he’s ever been able to write. After all this time and experience, he knew the people he needed in his space to get the job done. A lot of the songs were sad, and Eliza knew that some songs would be about her and she fully expected some songs to be about Fallon, so when he turned up at her place to show her the demo she was surprised to find no songs about their angel daughter. Eliza, that’s sick that you’d think I’d cash in on — no why would I — I can’t believe you would think that. He was angry, didn’t see she was coming from a good place and not trying to attack him. She didn’t think it would be a bad thing if he had written songs about Fallon, she was growing concerned about his abilities to deal with the loss of their daughter... he couldn’t even say her name.  He was trying to be more consciences to spend more time with Koa and Lennon. With the album complete it was only a matter of time before his management would undoubtedly have him on the road and all over the globe. Truthfully he was dreading it. He spent most afternoons putting the children to bed before bedding back to his house. He noticed things about her that were different in the Fallon aftermath. She was lonely at night, and when Koa and Lennon were out with him of an afternoon she had not so much to do. She had already organised the bookshelf, and the kitchen. Harry knew what the perfect Christmas gift would be to keep her busy. 

Whilst she had redecorated the lounge and her bedroom. Fallon’s room remained untouched, the door closed and the room just the way their almost four year old had left it the day she left for the hospital and never come home. Sometimes when he would finish putting the twins to bed and when Eliza was sleeping on the couch, he would sneak into Fallon’s room and sob. Being in her room was the only time he allowed himself to feel anything.

elizadoherty Happy holidays from the Doherty-Styles household, wrangling two and half year old twins into a photo is hard work and this mama couldn’t get it done. Please enjoy a photo of our delicious cookie “nomies” that are absolutely not store bought. 😝🎅🏻🎄🤶🏻 Liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 2,637,367 others.

harrystyles ELIZA X OLIVE. Merry Christmas.  Liked by elizadoherty, olivedogherty and 18,573,663 others,

Harry’s album came out the week of Christmas. With the new year there would be lots of changes coming for both him, Eliza and their two children. He would be off on tour, first to the states then, back home for a UK stint, followed by the rest of Europe, then to South America wrapping up with Australia, New Zealand and a few dates across Asia. He wouldn’t be home for more than two days in the next nine months. This bothered Eliza. Partly because she wanted him to be home so they could finalise the divorce, partly because she wouldn’t have his help with the twins and mostly because he had already lost one child, had he not noticed the importance of having quality time with his children.  She had already been annoyed by the fact that he had bought a dog into her home and gifted it to her for Christmas, she didn’t have time for a dog.. she would barely have time for herself and the two kids he was leaving behind to go on tour, and he though a doh would be a good idea?

Her thoughts all come to a head in the middle of an argument on New Years Eve. We need to finalise the divorce, we both deserve to move on. He didn’t want to move on, he liked being able to come by see her, and the kids and still be able to know she was legally still his wife. You don’t care about me and the kids, you’re not even going to see them for the next nine months, don’t tell me you care. He was mad, not because she was right but because he wanted to see them but didn’t know how to ask her to join him on tour with them. I never wanted to divorce you. You’re the one who filed for divorce Eliza. It’s Eliza’s turn to be mad. Well there was no hope for our marriage, we hadn’t had sex in months, you were sleeping on the couch, what the fuck kind of marriage is that. It wasn’t a healthy argument for the tel of them to be having, especially with the twins in the next room. I was a drug addict Eliza, I was also an alcoholic, I couldn’t really walk up the stairs, that’s why I slept on the couch not because I didn’t love you. He had stormed out, the following day he had booked in with his lawyers to come back the last week of February for their court date and two days after that he was back on tour.

harrystyles USA thank you for being the perfect start to this tour, you were all so beautiful! I’ll be back soon. All the love, H xx. Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 27,627,855 others. 

January rolled by faster than she would like to admit. Harry was back in London briefly to see the twins, Anne picked them up and took them to him as per his request. His birthday was tomorrow, Eliza offered for him to keep them for the weekend whilst he was in town, but he had other plans and declined her offer. She’s trying to give you time with your children. Anne nagged him, but her words fell on deaf ears. He had plans to drink his way through his birthday and not be able to recall any of it.  He woke in the morning to a voicemail from her. Harry, happy — well i know it’s not happy really — but happy birthday. I’m sorry about the divorce papers, I was... reaaaaalllyyy dumb. Anyway, see ya. She had been drinking, she could never hold her liquor. He remembers back to a time pre marriage and pre children when she would go out and have a few too many cocktails and call him from the bar, he remembers driving to fetch her, pulling over on the side of the road because his driving would be too much for her stomach to handle. He thinks about the way he used to hold her when she was too tired to walk and then the way he’d hold her in bed as her breath would steady and she’d finally succumb to the effects of the alcohol and sleep. God he loved her. 

elizadoherty HBD to my #1 (And only) bb daddy, @harrystyles, you’re a great dad, friend and I’m so glad I get to raise my babies with you. Here’s a throwback to when we were younger and when you had less wrinkles, old man.  Liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 18,257,268 others.  He made a mental note to return her the favour of nice words on social media when her birthday would roll around come summer. They were younger and happier in that photo. He wouldn’t wish his kids away, but he does wish he could go back to being that happy, young and carefree guy in the photo. 

After his birthday, things continued to go downhill for the two of them and their co-parenting endeavour. It started when he was photographed leaving a nightclub with a random girl on his arm the night of his birthday and things escalated when a week before their court date she had been photographed with someone new. This was the first time since the two of them had started dating all those years ago that they had been photographed with someone else.

TMZ 

Harry Styles ex-wife, Eliza Doherty, spotted out with new mystery beau shopping over the weekend.

It was the comments left the photo that sent Eliza into a rage. “Where are her kids?” “Spending all of Harry’s alimony I guess” that’s all the end of their marriage was to the public? Just about money? Never mind the emotional turmoil either of them had gone through, the sleepless nights the days where she wouldn’t know if he would make it home. The public didn’t understand, and never would, what it wad to be like Eliza Styles.  On top of the public ridicule, Harry of course had to get his two cents worth in. I don’t want you bringing random guys around the twins. It was a harmless comment and something she would surely say to him if she didn’t have manners or any kind of belief that he would be responsible with who he introduced their children to. Focus on yourself, Harry. And less on who I’m bringing home..

TMZ

reports of Harry Styles and ex-wife, Eliza Doherty, heading into court today to finalise their divorce after almost a year snd a half. He wore a black shirt and a cross earring for the occasion. 

Harry was trending on twitter and the photo and article from TMZ were attached to every tweet. Most people agreed he didn’t look himself. Everyone agreed it was inappropriate to take the photo and then post it to the masses but here it was for everyone to see. Eliza shook her head and put her phone away, soon enough she’d be in the same room as him for the first time since New Year’s Eve. 

 She had never been more scared to see him, hadn’t heard from him personally for the entire first leg of his tour, which even when they were having problems was odd. Perhaps he was still angry,  she had moved passed the anger stage and into the sad stage pretty quickly, it had been like this throughout their entire relationship. She would get over things quickly whilst he would hold onto things for days and days at one time. Harry knew based off of her voicemail that she had been ready to move passed the argument on New Year’s Eve, and he was almost on the same page as her and then they argued about partners and children and things had again been sour since. 

As soon as the time drew closer she began to feel like she couldn’t breathe. Like she might collapse at any second and never wake up again, like someone had taken all the air out of her lungs and out of this building. She used to enjoy the way her heart would skip a beat and the way her lungs would lose all the air when he entered her orbit, but now the feeling made her sick to her stomach. For the first time in a long time she couldn’t stand the thought of being in the same room as him. 

Part of him didn’t want to be here. This was partially to do with the fact that last night he had drank his body weight in alcohol, was very hungover and couldn’t think straight, but it was mostly to do with the fact that he couldn’t stand to see her cry and knew there was a good chance with the way they left things off that he might be the reason for her tears. 

He reeked of vodka and scotch and tequila and definitely weed, at least that’s all the things that Eliza could smell as he sat across from her. He was using again, or drinking again at the very least. It made her sad, he had worked so hard to get to a good place. Perhaps this was his way of coping, his way of dealing with Fallon dying. His way of forgetting about his problems. It wasn’t healthy, she’d make a note to talk to Gemma and Anne when she got back to the kids later in the afternoon.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all since the last time she saw him some five weeks ago now — which would make sense because she hadn’t slept properly in that long either. His shirt was creased and it was a mess, he looked unkempt which was a rare sight. Mismatched socks, untucked shirt, the pants he was wearing just as creased as his shirt was. His hair was longer than usual— he was letting it grow again... was this even any of her business anymore? — It probably wasn’t but she still examined him from head to toe, He’s wearing his shades inside, what an asshole she thinks. He was almost unrecognisable. He was most definitely no longer her Harry. She didn’t care make eye contact with him, and he extended the same courtesy not that he had much of s choice in the matter.  Mr Styles is offering Ms Doherty 50% of all his assets, as of this time that part has not changed.  Ms. Doherty would be happy to only 25%, your honour. She feels it’s adequate enough to provide for the children, she has a job and doesn’t require 50%. Mr Styles insists in the 50%, even 25% of it were to go into a fund for the children. 

Her lawyer looks to her for approval, even though she really doesn’t need Harry’s money, she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Mr Styles would like joint custody of their two children, Koa Everett Styles and Lennon River Styles. Your honour, Mrs Doherty requests that the father of her children submits to drug and alcohol tests and has supervised visitations until he can get himself — uh well... clean.  The judge rules in her favour, Harry has to pass three tests in a row for both drugs and alcohol before he can come anywhere near the twins. The rest esd pretty straight forward and not much different to what they had already signed on, she got the house and would receive child support on top of the 50% of the money they made from the time they first got married. Harry doesn’t see his children  till two days before their third birthdays, almost three months after the court hearing. It had taken him three months but this time he swore to keep clean.

elizadoherty happy three my miracle babes, there are no words 🥺  Liked by gemmastyles, annetwist and 4,472,378 others. 

A month after the twins’ birthday it’s Eliza who changes the agreement for supervision required to him being allowed to do visits at their house. Both the twins and Harry would be much more comfortable and if would give her more of a chance to observe him with them before she lets them stay with him overnight. He’s the one who suggests they go to therapy. He tells her it might help, and that he’s willing to try anything so long as she is too.  The first session back in therapy goes well, they haven’t done one together since just after the twins were born. They mostly discuss how to co-parent better and how to communicate with each other, the therapist warns to discuss Fallon and Harry practically has a panic attack at the mention of her name. When he instantly gets up and walks out on the session it’s just you and the therapist and 20 minutes left on the timer. I don’t think he’s ready to talk about her yet. It’s a sensitive topic for him. It hasn’t quite been a year yet since she passed. He won’t even talk about her with me and that was out daughter.  When Eliza gets home, Harry is on her doorstep. He’s sober, but crying and hyperventilating. She sits next to him and just hugs him not really knowing what to do. Eliza prays that her boyfriend, Andrew, doesn’t come over today. Her prayers are answered Eliza and Harry are left on their own. He cries for a long period of time before the head inside her house, Eliza is silently grateful that Anne offered to take the kids to Holmes Chapel for the week. Where did we go wrong? We should have been better and communicating. I was depressed when I couldn’t tour straight away and then you let me go and honestly this is going to sound fucking terrible but I didn’t want to come home.  So many confessions spill from his lips in a short space of time. Then Eliza starts. I just wanted you to be okay, you were struggling, I know you were depressed. I keep thinking about it, I don’t remember the last time we kissed or had sex, maybe it was before the twins were even born, we should have made more time. When she stops he’s not crying anymore he’s just staring at her with his eyebrows furrowed and then he does the unimaginable he kisses her. Not just a regular peck, his hands on the back of her head and her hands are on his chest and for just a moment they’re back in 2019 and they’re newly engaged and their wold is perfect. And then he pulls away, apologises and leaves and they are back to being divorced, estranged people who happen to share two children together. 

[hanii-rose]

•Hello again, I’m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤

And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:

The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.

The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.

Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.

And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.

Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•

I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho

_________________________________________

Reunited Part 2

Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader

You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.

"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.

You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.

You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.

“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”

He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.

“Another rough day, huh?”

Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.

“You have no idea…”

Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.

Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.

After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.

“Ya finally done…?”

Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.

“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.

“Yeah.”

The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.

Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.

“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”

Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.

“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”

“Too much work these days…”

You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”

Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.

Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.

It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…

In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.

It was like he turned everything around for you….

Oh, shit.

He did, didn’t he? Fuck!

You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.

Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…

Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?

Oh, that’s right! You get a job.

He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!

Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?

>>

You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.

Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.

And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.

Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.

You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.

Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your

DING!

Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…

Subject: Executive meeting

Dear D-Wing Employee,

Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.

It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.

The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.

Best Regards,

Senior Director, Akari Hina

Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.

Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.

>>

Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.

“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”

Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.

“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”

The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I left after my third year…”

Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.

“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”

Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.

“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”

He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.

“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”

Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?

After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.

“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”

Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.

“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”

The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.

Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.

“Thanks.”

Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.

“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”

Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.

>>

You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.

After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.

Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.

Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?

Wait were you home…?

He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.

Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.

You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.

“W-where did you come from?!”

Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”

Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.

“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”

Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.

“Never.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.

“So, where were you this fine morning?”

Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.

“Garou, where did you go?”

You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.

“Out.”

You quirked a brow, expression unamused.

“I know that!”

He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.

“With a friend.”

Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.

“Oh really? You have friends?”

He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.

>>

HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!

How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.

That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…

You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?

The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.

Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…

You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.

“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”

Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.

“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”

Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.

“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”

Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!

And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.

>>

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.

Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?

He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”

Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.

“A surprise for you, duh…”

He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.

“No, really? What’s the occasion?”

You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’

“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”

Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.

“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”

Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.

“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”

Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.

“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”

Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.

“I’m really proud of you though…”

Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.

“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”

You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.

“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”

You blushed and pulled his cheeks.

“Hey, this doesn’t count!”

He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.

“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”

>>

The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.

“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”

You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.

“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”

He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.

“Too bad I’m not available, right?”

You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.

“Yes, too bad indeed…”

Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.

Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.

“I love you…”

Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.

You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.

“I love you too. So much…”

And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.

It really couldn’t get better than this…

_________________________________________

[englass]

Hello ❤ hope you have a nice day 💖 can i request #14 from the dark prompts please?

Heya hun!!! Honestly, the day has been hot, but we push on. I hope your day has been good!! 💖 Hope you don't mind, but I went for a Fantasy AU for this one; I was super struggling with the prompt and the only thing I could think of was, "oooh, John as a mage..." so we kinda get that. The whole thing is more set up then anything else, but I didn't want to delete anything...

14. “You’re too sweet, darling. What type of monster would I be without you?”

- - -

There had been tales, whispers amongst the women and men of people going missing; of them being snatched off darkened paths and empty roads. Some reckoned it was a beast, spoke of a monster that was stealing people away to fuel their wicked appetite. Others thought it to be bandits, or other unscrupulous groups looking to profit off of the lives of inconspicuous civilians. But there were a handful, the few like yourself, that felt the shift in the air; that could feel the remnants of something foul and forbidden coiled around the scenes.

It had worried you greatly, the thought of such dark magic set loose in the town you had made a home of. Often you found yourself lost in your own mounting anxieties as the reports grew more and more frequent, and rumours gradianted into a much dreaded possibility. Even though you were no stranger to the darker arts, proficient as you are in the art of Summoning, you had never delved too far into its catalogue. In fact, Summoning was about all you ever touched and even then, amongst some other magically inclined individuals, it was considered somewhat of a lesser art; not as destructive and therefore not as notable as others.

However, just because you never strayed into more questionable arts doesn’t mean you know not of them. You’re aware that there are some dark arts that are a bit more accepted amongst the magically inclined than others, used for educational purposes and approved of as a means to protect oneself. Really dark arts are just offensive abilities, so no matter what there is always an element of wariness when it comes to the potential of such arts. As long as you utilise them in an acceptable manner there will be no questioning, no inquiries into your character.

For those not accepted though it is typically because they cross some form of moral or ethical line, taking an individual down a path that alters them irremediably. Stains the core of their aura with the makings of something dreadful, corrupts them until they lose all that makes them as they are.

Admittedly, if not studied correctly or the thirst for knowledge becomes too consuming, then any art can destroy a person; can set them down that very smart path. And sometimes a person can destroy the values of the art and stretch it into something it is not designed to be. There are many stories of Healers’ playing Maker, of a Conjurers’ calling going terribly wrong, of Astrologians’ going insane from their divinations. Once you were almost entranced by your own Summon; a rookie mistake, terribly embarrassing to recall.

Magic in general is a dangerous art and care will always need to be taken. But there are some arts where that danger is part of the art, and those are forbidden. They will always cross the line, and they will never fail to destroy a person; and that person will never fail to destroy others.

That’s what scared you so much about the recent happenings of the town. To think that such a person was lurching about the place, taking people off the street for who knows what nefarious reasons, terrified you. The idea that you could be next, that the stability of your own aura could be at risk because of this rogue caster sickened you. It tore you apart.

And John saw that.

It was a relatively small town, filled with all types of people coming in and out from across the region and the different towns within it. For a long time though the only people you knew that did magic was a spirited Pyromancer called Sharky and some eccentric Apothecary who lived on the outskirts called Larry (you were convinced the man tested his own potions on himself). The first you met when you had summoned a Kelpie to help you put out a fire he had accidentally caused a bit too close to your home, while the latter you had met by chance while looking for ingredients.

That had changed once the Seed brothers had moved in close to the town. They were surprisingly open about their magical inclinations and while the town wasn’t outrightly hostile they were openly suspicious of the three. You had even been a little suspicious of the three, not understanding their reasons for being so forward to a none magically inclined town; it could be dangerous to do so. Ultimately though they suffered little consequence of their reveal, other than strange looks and quiet gossip made of them. You had been envious of that freedom, to be forthright about what you were, but thought better of it. To reveal such a truth after so long would spell disaster for you.

Not even a full lunar cycle had passed before Joseph, the middle brother of the three, had made a point to come seek you out, introducing himself and his brothers to you. It had been a wholly uncomfortable encounter, especially the instance where he had suddenly questioned what arts you had studied. Desperately you had tried to deny it but thankfully the oldest brother, Jacob, had merely sighed and apologised on Joseph’s behalf. As an ex-Paladin turned Enchanter he had fully understood your need for secrecy and had been your saving grace during the whole thing. From then on the brothers become quick acquaintances to you, whether you wanted them to be or not.

Joseph was… okay. He made for interesting conversation no doubt and oftentimes his words gave you pause to think on things, but he could be a touch preachy at times, especially about his beliefs and divinations. Jacob on the other hand had become a confidante of sorts. You didn’t often talk, but when you did the conversation held well enough and his advice was always sound. He was also honest about his thoughts and opinions on a matter, and while you didn’t like being called out when you messed up you did respect his outlook. Your relationship with the youngest brother, John, however was a special one.

It had taken him a few days after the initial introduction to strike up a conversation with you, and for the most part he had purely asked you about yourself. But somewhere between admitting how long you’ve lived here and him nervously revealing himself to be a Conjurer, you had developed a fast trust of the man. It was unexplainable, completely foolish of you, but there was just something about him that you thought was pleasant; a believability to him. He was the first you deliberately told about your darker studies and thankfully, being of similar arts, he had taken it exceedingly well. You had even bonded over the differences and similarities between your chosen studies. He had become a dear friend, and only became dearer as the years went by.

So John noticing when your worries began to eat at you didn’t surprise you. He knew you extraordinarily well, sometimes it was even a little spooky how well he knew you, but it was also an odd comfort. He knew just what to say to put you at ease, to assure you that you would be safe and even going so far as promising that he himself would protect you from such a fate as those missing. You still had doubts, but his care was touching.

If only you had learned the truth sooner.

“My friend, please,” you cry, wrists shackled uncomfortably above you, the metal cutting into your skin, “I beg of thee, stop this! Such practises are a blight to the soul, you will doom yourself if you continue. I know not what it is you wish to accomplish, but please spare them this torture! Spare yourself! Surely there has to be another way, John; surely!”

John merely chuckles quietly, slowly shaking his head as he does so. “Oh, you’re too sweet, darling. Even now, as you are, you still think of me and my well being before yourself. Not to imply you have anything to fear, of course; you know I would never hurt you. I merely mean it as an observation. It is a charming trait, that sweetness of yours. It’s part of why I fell for you so.” He turns to you then, up to his elbows covered in blood. The person before him is still alive, but barely, their breaths shallow and their skin a deathly pallor. To think he was a Hemomancer this whole time…

“But why waste words on their behalf when they would never deign to do the same for you? You had to hide yourself, deny what you truly are just to be accepted by these lowly worms for years. Tell me, where is the fairness in that? In what world should we sequest ourselves away from those weaker than us, those deemed less worthy by the Maker themselves?”

Crossing the space in a few long strides he stops before you, bloody hands cupping your cheeks gently even as you try to turn away from him, bringing you back to stare helplessly into his sparkling eyes, “Don’t you see, sweet one? You are beautiful, in every part, as you are. We were blessed by the Maker, but they will never see that, blinded as they are. They will never appreciate our arts, our gifts, or even us as people, no matter what we may do or sacrifice for them. If I need to subject myself to risk to show them their place, to create a world that you need not hide in any longer, then I’ll do so gladly and without hesitation.”

Shaking your head softly, face still captured within his hands, a tear slips unbidden down your cheek. “But it will consume you. You’ll become a monster.”

“Maybe,” he admits, tone oddly calm as he carefully brushes beneath your eye with his thumb, smearing blood through the track of your tear, “but I wonder, what type of monster would I be without you, do you think?”

Perhaps it is vain of you, but something tells you that he would be another beast entirely without you chained to him as you now are…

[redrobinfection]

Alfred’s Favorite Barbara

Babs & Alfred || Read on Ao3 || Happy Birthday, Barbara Gordon! ❤

<< A sequel to last year’s “Batgirls’ Favorite Mentor” 

~*~

Barbara leaned forward and spit out the toothpaste Cass had let her use, on one of the many spare toothbrushes Alfred kept in the guest toiletries stockpile, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh and considered her mostly-put-together-again reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Wow, that had certainly been a party of a night, she mused, ruefully lifting a strand of her sleep-mussed auburn locks before deciding that pulling it back in a bun was really the only dignified solution.

Steph and Cass had kept her up all night--not like that was all that much different from her usual schedule, but mani, pedi, facials, horrible (great) superhero movies, and gossip until dawn had worn her out more than she would have expected. Although, the wine that had snuck into the mix right when the mani-pedis were left to dry and the third movie went in might have had something to do with it, she conceded with a smirk at herself in the mirror. It wasn't a bad sort of tired, she admitted as she tucked few stray hairs into her messy bun, but she was more than ready for a day to rest, recover and recharge.

Just after dawn, Alfred had invaded the sanctum of their home theater encampment to invite them up to the kitchen for a hearty breakfast. There he had laid out toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit, juices, teas, coffee, pancakes and even some of the real cake from the night before--a rare breach of protocol from the prim and proper butler that Barbara took as a one-time gesture of affectionate indulgence of their whims--which eventually drew out the other occupants of the house, turning breakfast the morning after into as much of a party as dinner the night before had been.

After that, Alfred had shooed Steph and Cass off to bed and shown Barbara up to her regular guest room where the bed had already been turned down, the pillows fluffed and the blackest of blackout curtains tightly drawn, bless that man. After a few hours of much needed sleep, it was now just past noon, most of the manor's occupants were either still sleeping or out living their daylight personas, and Alfred had offered to drive her back to the Clocktower after she had "freshened up a bit".

Satisfied that she had done as much as she could to make herself decent for the drive of shame, Barbara gathered her things and made her way down the hall to the elevator. Alfred was waiting for her when the doors opened on the civilian garage.

"Ah, Miss Barbara, I take it you're ready to depart?"

"Yes. Thank you for driving me back, Alfred."

"Of course, it's my pleasure."

He led the way toward their several limousines, opened the door to one very special vehicle and began extending and lowering a long ramp. Barbara pressed her lips together to hide a smile as Alfred stepped to one side and let her wheel herself up the shallow incline. He retracted the ramp, closed the door and slid into the driver's seat while she positioned herself in the sleek interior and locked the wheels of her chair.

"Thanks again, Alfred. For everything," Barbara added as they pulled out of the garage. "Last night, this morning...it was all amazing and it must have been so much work--extra work--for you. I really appreciate it."

She saw his eyebrows rise in the rear-view mirror as he replied, "Of course. It was no trouble; I would hardly label hosting a small dinner in honor of and giving accommodations to one of my favorite persons "work". It was a pleasure, Miss Barbara."

She raised an eyebrow in turn. "Oh really? A fairly large dinner, putting up with the mess we all made in the theater afterwards, and putting together a big breakfast in the morning--and driving me back after letting me stay over, even when I'm sure you've got plenty of cleaning up to do? 'Favorite person' huh? If I didn't know better I'd think you were buttering me up for something, Alfred Pennyworth," she teased, sharing a knowing look with him in the mirror.

He didn't laugh out loud, but his eyes twinkled in that way Barbara knew meant he was amused rather than offended. "My word! Is it so hard to believe that an old man would take pleasure in doing what little he could to celebrate the birthday of his favorite Barbara."

Barbara did laugh out loud. "Your favorite...huh! First Jason calls me his favorite, then Tim and Dick, then Steph and Cass... and now you? All of you in less than twenty-four hours? Did you all have a meeting to discuss the topic or am I about to go home to one of the hardest cases of all time and you're all buttering me up to it?"

"I believe the subject had come up recently," Alfred replied evenly. "You do so much for this family and receive so little appreciation..."

"That's my line," Barbara muttered incredulously with a minute shake of her head.

"...and I'll have you know that of all the Barbaras I've had the pleasure of knowing, you most certainly rank supreme."

Barbara huffed a laugh through her nose. "And how many Barbaras is that exactly?"

Alfred met her eyes in the mirror and fixed her with an impressive look. "When you've lived as long as I have, served as long as I have, you come to know a great many people. Among all of those... you are rare soul indeed, Barbara. Surely one to celebrate and to venerate."

That gave her pause. What are you supposed to say to something like that? She didn't know, so she let the silence stretch and turned her gaze to the traffic speeding past her window while her true focus turned to beating down the bloom of color that had flooded her cheeks at Alfred's unexpected pronouncement. 

They rode in silence--not an uncomfortable silence, but Barbara still felt the weight of those words still hanging heavy between them--for the rest of the drive. They'd caught the lull between the lunch-hour jam and afternoon rush-hour traffic--likely a strategic choice on Alfred's part--so it only took about twenty minutes to make the trip into the city. 

Alfred graciously helped her disembark, escorted her to the ground level door to the tower, and--to her surprise--asked to walk her in, pulling a cooler bag from somewhere with leftovers from the revelries. Barbara invited him in, sending him ahead of her with repeated thanks, but the words of appreciation died in her throat as she rolled over the threshold and took in the interior of her homebase. 

She wasn't a slob, per se, but Barbara knew she didn't tidy up around the Tower quite as often as she should, and she cleaned the place even less frequently. It was a lot of real estate for one person--a person with certain mobility issues, at that--and a small army of specially programmed Roombas and some casual dusting here and there could only do so much. 

But today, her foyer was spotless. All the coats, umbrellas and other detritus were neatly hung or stacked in their places. The tile was a shade lighter than she remembered and the grout was actually white--she'd actually thought it was tan up until now. 

Moving into her apartment showed the same story. Shelves of books and knick-knacks were freshly dusted, the rugs had been deeply vaccuumed, and personal items had been put away or neatly arranged. Every surface gleamed.

She turned to Alfred with an accusing look. "Alfred... did you...?" One look at his quietly pleased expression was answer enough. "When did you even find the time to come over here and do this? Did you clean the whole Tower?" She wouldn't doubt it. She didn't bother to ask him how he got into her super-secure, high-tech lair--this is the ex-MI6 agent who raised Bruce, after all--but given the timeline of events, it shouldn't have been possible for him to clean all this by himself and do everything he did for them while she was at the manor. 

"We did, in fact, clean the entire tower--and we took great care not to disturb any of your things in the command center, mind you--but it hardly took any time at all with Masters Damian and Timothy along to help. In fact, we were in and out well before you rose from your nap this morning."

Barbara's eyebrow rose into her hair. Alfred had wrangled Tim and Damian--in the morning, of all times--into cleaning? Together? Without killing each other? 

"Wow, Alfred, you got Tim and Damian to work together to do all of this...? At eight in the morning? You're a miracle worker, for sure. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.

"Really, Alfred...this--" she gestured to rooms around them "--the party, the sleepover, and then breakfast... you've done so much. Thank you. It means a lot to me, but, really, you didn't need to do all this. It's... it’s too much..." 

Alfred looked away for a moment, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. "Ah, well. Yes. I admit, I may have gone a bit overboard..."

They entered the kitchen and Barbara came to a complete stop. The appliances shone, the stove was spotless, and, for once, the sink was completely free of dishes. But that wasn't what stopped her dead in her tracks. 

On the polished kitchen table, laid out elegantly on a freshly washed and pressed table cloth that Barbara had forgotten she even owned, was a handsome tea set in lustrous lavender and gold--one pot, saucers, cups, sugar cellar and creamer. To one side sat a few varieties of Alfred's favorite teas, and on the other a plate piled high with Alfred’s signature tea cakes, one of her favorite things about visiting the manor for pre-patrol briefings or post-patrol debriefings, back in the day. A recipe card stuck out under the plate.

Barbara turned to Alfred, her vision going misty. "Alfred..."

Alfred graced her with a rare smile, beaming down at her, his expression fond, but his voice was quiet, "For when you need a break from Master Tim's gift of espresso or a moment of peace after along night."

Barbara broke out into a teary smile of her own and raised her arms, reaching out for a hug before she thought it through. Alfred surprised her yet again, leaning down to accept her embrace. 

"Really, thank you, Alfred. For everything," Barbara murmured into his shoulder before he could pull away again.

He didn't. Instead, he replied, so quietly Barbara almost missed it,

"Anything for one of my favorite granddaughters."

[jonah-aesthetic]

Gingerbread I Zach Herron

Zach X Reader

Plot: Y/N’s successful boyfriend invites her to his to bake Christmas Cookies.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: The last bit is a little rushed, this isn’t edited but I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas my Lovelies! 

Rating: 16+ (do you guys like the spicy scenes or no)

Moodboard

------------------------------------------

Inserting the brass key into the lock with a click, you pushed open your door with your shoulder. Entering your apartment on the three floor, you flicked on the lights and tossed you keys on the counter not caring where they landed. 

The entire day was stressful, the corner store was out of your favourite creamer. Next you forgot you phone at home and had to run back. You were late to work cause your hair wasn’t participating. Not to mention that Asshole that cut you off earlier. You were annoyed and ready to throw on something comfy to watch Netflix for the rest of the day.

A yellow post-it note caught your eye, Remembering it not being on the fridge this morning. Plucking it off you read the words written upon it. 

 Hey Darling, 

@ 10pm meet me at my place, we’re baking cookies. Don’t call me saying no cause I blocked you. Also there’s a gift in the fridge for you 

xx - Z 

Smiling you shook head, only Zach would make the effort of blocking you on everything so you had no other choice then to show up. You had the worst habit of denying his invitation when you weren't in the mood for it. But you’d end up regretting it five episodes in of your favourite tv show. Zach always managed to make your day better, ever since the day you meet him. 

December 10th, 2019

The aroma of the coffee shop was filled with the intoxicating smell of coffee beans and Christmas music. Third  in line all you could think about how the guy you were talking to you ghosted you. He was the first guy who found interest in you since the breakup with you ex- boyfriend. The bastard used that to his advantage just to get laid. Knowing you were fairly vulnerable and desperate to feel any connection again. What- 

“What can I get you?” The leathery voice asked, 

Without realising you moved up on the line, slightly embarrassed you wondered how many times he had to ask you. “Just a large coffee, three sugar, three cream.” You spoke with a small smile, what could you say. you had a sweet tooth and hated the bitter taste of black coffee. 

“$3.78.” His bored tone was heard, 

Nodding you reached into your purse for your wallet. searching you found two quarters, one dime, two nickles and no sign of your back card. Of course not you left it on the coffee table after buying a book online. Your dumb ass never put it back home. 

“Fuck.” You say more to yourself, but you knew it was heard my others close by. Looking up you smiled apologetically at the barista. “Funny story- 

“Here, I got it.” a smooth memorising voice cut you off,  you watched as some guy reached over your shoulder to pay. Not just any guy with that perfect bone structure a fucking god, okay maybe that was too drastic, but you didn’t think it was. 

“No, You don’t have to.” You spoke trying to push him away, but it was too late his card reached the machine chiming happily. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my pleasure honestly.”  His smile sucked the breath out of your lungs. His brown eyes were watching you, wondering what emotions were going through your pretty little head. Taking his hand out of the pocket of his slacks, reaching it towards you. “Zach” 

“Y/N” You smiled back at him, connecting your right hand in his. They were warm to the touch and significantly larger then your delicate one. The thing that intrigued  you most about him was his un-denying classic style he held. Wearing a beautiful button down, which had four different black and white patterns. Two buttons undone, just enough for his defined chest to peek through. Tucked into a pair of black striped slack as he wore black oxford shoes, pulling the entire look together. He was formal, yet he wasn’t and you found it fucking attractive. 

After Zach requested his order and paid you both caught onto a conversation. Waiting for your drinks, he was funny and from what he was telling you talented too. Collecting your beverages he offered to take a seat with you, and you definitely weren't denying that offer. Talking with Zach you forgot all about Chase, or was it Chance? Who cared he wasn’t important anymore. 

You had no idea how long you talked before the barista who served you earlier kicked you out. You switched numbers and he asked if he could walk you home. It was dark and you didn’t necessarily want to walk alone down town.

Sticking the note to the counter you hopped in the shower washing away the filth of the day, changed into leggings and a hoodie that once belonged to him. Locking up the apartment you got into your car and began driving to Zach’s house. Feeling giddy you forgot about the candy bar settling inside the fridge. 

Arriving you walked through the front, glass doors sliding open like they always had for you. Reaching into the lobby you caught the eye of Julian who had been sitting behind the hostess’ desk. Green eyes staring he smiled, “Well if it ain’t little Mrs. Herron.” Greeting you with the nickname he gave you eight months ago. Nonetheless it still made your cheeks heat up at the thought of marrying the boy one day. 

“Hello to you too Julian.” You reply, heading straight to the white elevator. Pressing the silver key card against the scanning pad. It was a gift given on the same night you planned on offering your apartment key to him. You both laughed at how connected your mindset really was. 

Dinging the elevator opening speaking mechanically to you. “Good evening Y/N, and Happy Holidays.” Walking in you whispered a small thank you like you’ve always had. You still weren’t use to how luxurious the apartment-plex was, Only feels like yesterday was the first time you agreed to come over. 

Letting the elevator engulf you with hushed Christmas music. There were no buttons embedded on the side. All the information it needed was packed into the chip within the card. All that was plastered on the wall was a screen, counting down the seconds it took to reach his pent house.

Zach’s success as an artist never bothered you, never made you feel less then him. He’s never once made you feel that way with him, especially when you two fought in the dead of the night. He’s even asked for you to move in, but you liked you place. Liked your own space.The luxury of his life could be a little much for you at times. 

Dinging the elevator door exposed Zach’s apartment, lights were dimmed showing off the string of Christmas bulbs scattered about. Home Alone displaying on the t.v above the crackling fire place. Candles lit emitting of the scents of pine and peppermint mingling perfectly together. Christmas decor still intact from when you placed it with Zach’s help last week.  Staring at the atmosphere your boyfriend created you wondered where he was. 

“Zach?” Your voice travelled through the pent house like a maze. With no response you decided to look for him yourself. Entering his room you spotted pyjamas atop his silky black duvet, Another note rest a top. 

Just put these on for me 

xx -Z

Plucking the note you unfolded them, a white crop top and a pair of red pyjama bottoms. With all nine of Santa's reindeer’s names written in white all over them. You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot, he had a chill night planned for the both of you. Since he knew you weren’t one for big crowds, you were blessed to know he understood that. 

Stripping in the middle of his room you changed into the Christmas pjs. Tossing your clothes into the corner of the room you ventured off to find him. Wasn’t too long before you spotted him in the kitchen, in matching Pyjamas dancing to the Christmas music. That right there was the love of your life and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“Hey hot stuff!” you holler over the music, he stopped instantly at you voice, looking up he breaks into a stunning smile. “ I didn’t here the elevator.” His brown eyes a little apologetic, “You also didn’t here me call for you. Too busy lost into the Christmas feel.” you tease him. 

“Here, I made you this.” Grabbing a red mug off the counter he stalks towards you. Towering over you small height, he places the hot coco in your hands. The hot beverage topped with whipped cream, cinnamon, and a candy cane melting into the side of it.  You didn’t think your words could manage the gratitude you felt from him. Placing you unoccupied hand around his neck bringing him to your lips. You kissed him, a soft and slow one. He tasted like hot coco and candy canes. 

“I could never get use to the way you kiss me in appreciation.” He says after you let go of his neck. 

“I Don’t feel like my words are enough, not like the way you sing them.” 

“Your words are everything to me, but I’d definitely prefer the kissing.” Zach winks, flirting with you like you two were still best friends. Walking backwards to the island he did a once over of your body, and a second time. His brown eyes travelled from head to toe drinking every inch of you in. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head a little. He always flirted with you, he never saw the reason to stop. Zach found you breathtakingly beautiful and wouldn’t let you forget it. 

Drinking the glorious hot coco he made you, your eyes watched at he started prepping the ingredients. His moments were sly and simple yet attractive, you still couldn’t grasp the thought of him being yours. The man practically got on his  knees till you said you’d be his girlfriend. 

“So are you just going to stare at me the whole time or help me?”  His eyes never lost focus as he caught you red handed admiring the way this hands moved. Your cheeks flushed, trying to hide yourself behind the cup of hot coco. The man could flirt with you but the moment he catches you staring you burn up like a tomato. 

“I wasn’t.” You mumble into your beverage, hoping it hide the quiver in your voice. It failed. 

Dark chuckle emits into the air, “I love the way I affect you.” Still trying to hide into your cup, you couldn’t see the way he prowled over to you. His brown eyes a little dark and his expression a little sharper. You gasped once his hands came in contact with your skin. Goosebumps arisen on your waist as he backed you up against the counter, lifting you atop it. 

You let him pull the mug away as he looked into your eyes, seeing every piece of you. Separating your knees he slide between your legs. Pulling you closer against him, you locked your ankles around his waist. He held your chin in his hands you felt every muscle, every vein, and every bone in his left hand. Placing his thumb on your chin he pried back your bottom lip. 

Your core throbbed between your legs feeling the sexual energy flowing in his blood. You were putty in his hands like you’ve always had been for him, only him. You released a whimper at the growing tension, wanting him to do something, anything. Moving closed to you, his mouth swerved past you lips and to your ear. Breathing against your neck sending shivered down you spine.

“I want to fuck you, but right now I want to make cookies with you.” He whispered softly and you could hear the teasing smiled on his lips. Just like that the burning in your core vanished like thin air and replaced with disappointment. That fucking brick, he’s done it multiple times before. yet you still haven’t learned. 

“Okay lets go.” You grab his hand, hopped of the counter and pulled him to the kitchen island. Showing no weakness, no emotion, no trace of the way he affected with his prickery.  Zach was bewildered by your response, nonetheless let you lead them. 

There was no effort needed into making the dough as Zach had measured everything out correctly.  While slinging along with the Christmas music you combined the wet ingredients and Zach did the dry. You’d never forget this moment with him, sneaking glances while you made gingerbread cookies with him.  

Wasn’t too long before combining both mixing bowls into a larger one, placing that one under the mixer. Watching the dough as it mingles everything together creating a beautiful brown and soft cookie dough. It was mesmerising to watch honestly. 

Distracted with the dough you couldn’t feel the tight hold of Zach’s eyes on you. Watching every muscle, the way your lips twitched with happiness. How your calm breathing expanded your chest. The motion of your fingers riming the brim of the mixing bowl. The way the light in the kitchen beamed off your hair, making the shade brighter. 

“I love you.” His voice sounded hazy, lost in the thought of you. 

Surprised you whipped your head in his direction, a giddy smile upon your lips. He leaned against the counter, sipping hot coco out of a forest green mug with ‘Merry’ written in white. You realised your mug and his had been a matching set, as yours had the word ‘Christmas. 

“I love you too.” It was as if the words were yanked from your soul. Maybe it was in the moment or you knew that you truly loved this man with your whole heart. But you let yourself say it and you didn’t feel the need to apologies. Zach responded with an ear to ear smile, no words and you were thankful for that. 

From there it didn’t take too long before the dough was plop on the island and rolled out. Gingerbread cookie cutters dug into it softly, before they were laid down on a cookie sheet. Then pushed inside the oven to be baked. 

“Speaking of cookies, I got you a gift.”  Looking into his doe brown eyes you held in a laugh. “How do those even connect?” You asked him, raising your eyebrow and crossing your arms accusingly at him.

“They don’t, But I got you one.” He pulls a small white box with a stunning red ribbon on top from behind his back . Small meant it was either a give card or jewellery, with him it always had been expensive. Which you were grateful for but you’d rather the small gift. Deep down you didn’t want to feel like a burden, Zach has done so much for you already.

“It’s not Christmas yet.” You managed to get out. 

“Does it have to Christmas for me to get my girlfriend a gift?” He asked his voice smooth and sounding like home. Shaking your head gently you say “No, I guess not.” It would making you feel less guilty if it had been. 

Taking the small box into your hands you watched his brown eyes light up. Starring at the little bow atop, you pulled the lid Revealing a gift that was neither what you assumed. Inside was a golden card sitting on green velvet, Not just any card, a card that was identical to his pent house key card. Grasping it into your grip you saw the small detailing. Matte background with a shinning luxurious car and letters that spelled your name. 

“What’s this?” You ask having a good idea, but you wanted confirmation.

“Key card for the parking garage.” You could spy the hesitation and anxiety swimming in his eyes. You wondered how long he’s had this tucked away. Waiting for the exact right moment to ask you again. 

“Yes.” 

“Will you move in with me?”  his words were forced from his lips like he was awaiting your denial. “I made my office into one for you, your own space. It’s all yours if you want it.” He continues not hearing your answer over his hammering heart. That explained why he kept it locked for the last two months, you never questioned it since this was his house.

“Yes” you smile, knowing you made the right choice for the both of you.”...but you didn’t have to do that Zach.”  He engulfed you in a hug and you latched onto him like it was the last time you would see him. Holding you tight to his chest you could feel his lips kiss the crown of your head. 

“Really?” His slow question vibrated against his chest where your head was laying. you moved to catch his eyes with yours, to make sure he heard you. “Yes, You’re my forever Zach.” 

[lettheladylead]

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 3: Gladstone [ao3 link]

It’d been a year since Scrooge started regularly babysitting his niece and nephew. Goldie had only had the misfortune of interacting with them a handful of times, though one of those handfuls was a week-long bedridden visit where they asked too many questions and got way too attached to her. So before leaving, she stole from their piggy banks to teach them an important lesson: Goldie O’Gilt is not their family and she’s certainly not their aunt.

The next time she visited after that, the kids seemed properly sour and uninterested in her, so clearly they got the message. Or they just had a bad day. Either way, she could focus on Scrooge and treasure and then move on with her plans. She was able to visit without interacting with children a good half a dozen times after that, which really made her days go faster. It was nice.

She was stopping by in early February to grab some items she’d left behind (for safekeeping, of course) when Goldie learned that Scrooge’s family was continuing to...expand. There were now twice as many children in the mansion and the two new kids were apparently not deterred by Donald and Della’s attempts to warn them about their uncle’s thieving ex.

The kid in green found her in the foyer and lifted up his sunglasses to wink at her. “Well hello there!”

She blinked down at him. “...hello.”

He shuffled closer and stuck out his tiny little hand. “Gladstone Gander! And you are…?”

Goldie pinched his hand between two fingers and gave it a single shake before letting go. She didn’t appreciate the tone she was getting from this child who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. “You can call me Miss O’Gilt.”

Gladstone pouted at her response and then shrugged before putting the sunglasses back. “Suit yourself. I’m a real catch!”

“I’m sure,” Goldie groaned. “Where’s Scrooge? I need to talk to him.”

The kid pointed towards the stairs. “Uncle Scrooge is in his office, I think.”

“Uncle?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Hortense have another kid or...are you Matilda’s?” The concept of Matilda having a child had Goldie immediately confused. She was pretty sure she knew that woman’s goals and motherhood was never on her list. They’d bonded over the lack of interest once in the past.

“Huh?” Gladstone tilted his head. “No, Auntie Hortense is married to Uncle Quackmore, who’s my mom’s brother. Who’s Matilda?”

Goldie closed her eyes and put two fingers to her temple as she felt a headache forming. She supposed if they stretched the definition enough, then Scrooge could be literally anyone’s uncle even if they had some gigantic distant relation to him. It was kind of annoying. “I guess she’s...also your aunt. You’ll probably meet her someday.” With that, Goldie turned around and started towards the stairs.

The kid followed her and she resisted the urge to punt him into another room. “So you know Uncle Scrooge and Auntie Hortense? Are you Uncle Scrooge’s secret wife?”

“No.” She didn’t even give him a glance as she headed up the stairs.

“Does that mean you’re single?” he asked with a toothy grin.

Goldie looked down at him again and then rolled her eyes. “You’re a bit young to be at this level of annoying.”

“Annoying?” Gladstone put a shocked hand to his chest and frowned. “You must be unlucky like Donald and Della. Only unlucky people call me annoying!”

Alright, that was a curious enough statement to make Goldie pause and lean against the banister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gladstone walked up another few steps so his head was about the same height as her’s. “I’m the luckiest goose in the world! Even luckier than my mom!”

Goldie quirked an eyebrow. “Luckiest in the world, huh? How would you know that?”

“I know that ‘cause...I’m Gladstone Gander!” He did a little spin and stuck his hands into his pockets before pulling out a dozen twenty dollar bills. “I found all of these just on my walk earlier!”

She stared at the money and, on reflex, plucked a few out of his hands. He didn’t even react as she pocketed them. “That’s pretty normal when you’re walking around Scrooge McDuck’s mansion, kid.”

He reached into his pockets again and pulled out another dozen bills. “No, no, these aren’t from Uncle Scrooge! I got these while walking around town!”

That caught her attention a bit more. Goldie pocketed a few more of the twenties before putting a hand against the bottom of her beak. “That does sound particularly lucky.”

He gave her a thumbs up, clearly happy that he’d convinced her of his gift, and Goldie thought about her plans for the weekend. She’d intended on grabbing a pair of earrings she’d left in Scrooge’s dresser and a mystical gem-finder he’d locked up in his Other Bin before heading to Macaw, but...perhaps she could use a partner. Well, more like a sidekick. Or a mascot.

“How would you like to go on a trip and really put your luck to the test?”

-----------------

Despite him being a very, very annoying little kid, Goldie had to admit that bringing him along was worth the frustrations.

She’d never done this well at the Galaxy Macaw, especially not at the slot machines. She could cheat her way through any old card game, but playing with other people brought too much attention to her presence. And the owner would be very unhappy if he saw she’d returned after what happened last time.

Her disguise wasn’t particularly artful - just a short black wig and green-tinted sunglasses - but it was enough to keep security from noticing her striking blonde amongst the sea of dark-haired birds around them. Gladstone managed to win a new little outfit for himself within a few minutes of entering the casino, and Goldie was happy that no one questioned the child’s presence. After a few wins at the slot machines, earning herself and her little partner a significant bit of cash, Goldie let the kid wander off on his own and started casing the place, getting ready for the actual reason for her travels.

“Miss O’Gilt?” Gladstone asked as he reappeared, tugging at her hand to get her attention.

“I told you not to use my last name here,” she hissed in response, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

“Oh, right!” He tapped a finger against his chin. “So, then...Aunt Goldie, why exactly are we here? Not that I’m not having fun, but…this all seems kind of random.”

She held back a growl at the name - why did these kids always lean into the “aunt” moniker first? - and plopped her hand on top of his head. “Don’t worry about it. You should just keep having fun while I cash out and take care of some business.”

He shrugged. “Alright, but I bet I could help you with whatever you’re really here for! Uncle Scrooge never lets me help him find stuff ‘cause he says it’s cheating, but this is just how I live, y’know?”

Goldie removed her hand from his head and laid it on her hip. “I appreciate the offer, but this is something I need to take care of alone.” She glanced around the room and paused at the sight of a line of phone booths. “If I’m not back in a half hour, call your uncle to pick you up, alright?”

Gladstone followed her line of sight, then turned back to look up at her. “Are you doing something dangerous?”

“Hopefully not, but you never know.”

The kid pouted and leaned back on his heels. “...are you sure I can’t come with?”

Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Just stay here,” she said sternly, and quickly disappeared before Gladstone could follow.

He frowned and looked around himself. He knew nothing bad would happen to him, but it was still weird for an adult to leave him alone in a place so filled with strangers. Goldie was certainly unlike any other adults he’d spent time with, and he wasn’t at all surprised that Donald and Della had such conflicting feelings about her.

That being said, he could see a snack stand not too far away, so he rushed over to grab some pretzels. As soon as he arrived, the man running the stand gave him a big toothy smile, said he was the one thousandth customer of the day, and then handed him a giant pretzel for free.

It was nice being Gladstone Gander.

As he chomped away, a big banner above some of the slot machines caught his attention. In bright, bold letters he saw the words THE MACAW RUBY and more information about it being some rare, potentially mystical artifact that would be on display starting at 5 o’clock sharp.

He thought about that for a moment. From what he knew about Goldie, which wasn’t much but he’d understood the gist of it, she liked to steal things. Really cool, expensive, fancy things. He didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together and realize she was after that ruby.

Whether or not she wanted his help, Gladstone decided he was going to be a part of this. After all, maybe the ruby would just come into his possession thanks to his luck! No one would need to steal anything, it would simply belong to him. And then he could give it to her and she’d give him a hug as thanks and who wouldn’t want that?

By the time he arrived at the place where the ruby was going to be displayed, it was only a few minutes to five and Gladstone took note of the extremely heavy security detail in front of the curtain. If Goldie hadn’t already gotten the ruby, there was no way she was going to get past all of them.

So he walked up to one of the guards and locked his hands behind his back. “Hi there!”

The guard looked down at him and didn’t respond.

“I’m Gladstone!”

Still no response.

Gladstone pouted, but he was pretty sure he could charm this guy into showing him the gem. “Can I see the fancy ruby?”

The guard made a face at him before turning to look at another guard and then proceeded to speak in a language that Gladstone didn’t recognize. He realized after a moment that it was probably Mandarin, which would make a lot of sense, considering where they were.

The other guard walked over and grabbed Gladstone by the back of his shirt, holding him up in front of his face. “Where’re your parents, kid? You shouldn’t be walking around here by yourself,” he said in a rough, heavy accent.

Gladstone frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m no kid! I’m just really short for my age! And I’ve won, like, fifty thousand dollars today, so you can’t tell me what to do!”

The guard frowned and his grip on Gladstone’s shirt tightened. “What’d you just say to me? I’m not in the mood for some brat and his-”

“Excuse me, sir,” a new voice called out.

All three boys looked over to see Goldie standing there, arms crossed and looking certainly unhappy, and with a purse over her shoulder that Gladstone didn’t remember being there when they’d arrived at the casino.

“That’s my nephew you’re manhandling, you oversized hog,” Goldie growled, reaching out and grabbing Gladstone so she could properly plop him down next to her. “You treat all your guests like this?”

The guard stood up straight and glared at her, pointing angrily towards Gladstone. “You might wanna teach your kid some manners, lady! He won’t be so lucky next time he pisses me off.”

“I’m sure that’s very difficult to do,” Goldie said with an eyeroll. “Come on, Gladdy, it’s time for us to go.”

Gladstone just nodded and took her hand. As they were leaving, a bunch of rich-looking snobs were walking in the opposite direction, probably excited to see the fancy gemstone that was about to be unveiled. He was pretty sure Goldie had already taken it and it was sitting in her bag right by his face. Though he wondered if she replaced it with a fake or if things were about to go crazy in this casino.

A moment later and Gladstone turned his head at the sound of an announcer and some clapping and a stunned silence and then an audience-wide gasp. Goldie clutched his hand a little tighter at the sound of the gasp and he noticed she’d picked up a tiny bit of speed.

With her walking faster, he fell behind her and looked up to see a shocking and unfortunate sight: a few strands of long blonde hair had fallen out from under her wig and were completely visible to anyone who could see her back. He opened his mouth to say something when he was cut off by the loudest scream he’d ever heard from someone that wasn’t Donald.

“IT’S GOLDIE O’GILT! GET HER BEFORE SHE GETS AWAY!”

Suddenly Gladstone was picked up and being held in Goldie’s arms as she quickly exited the building and ran towards the nearest available taxi. He didn’t even have a second to breathe before she had the driver heading towards the airport as fast as he could go.

She tore off the wig and sunglasses and shoved them into her bag, which Gladstone noticed didn’t seem to get any bigger as she did. He looked into it and saw what seemed to be some sort of endless vortex. Neat!

Goldie laughed and patted his head. “Good job out there, kid. That was fun,” she said as she reached into the bag and pulled out another wig - this time it was brown and wavy. It seemed she was prepared for the possibility that someone might try following her.

“Thanks, Aunt Goldie,” he responded with a smirk, remembering how much that name annoyed her earlier. “So where’s my cut of the profits?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and clearly looked like she was about to laugh at his question. “Why don’t we focus on getting you home before we talk about that?”

Gladstone put a hand to his chin in thought. Really, money wasn’t an issue for him. He found money all the time, and even when he didn’t, his parents had plenty of money of their own. But he did feel like Goldie owed him for all his help. “Okay, sure.”

-------------------------------------

First their taxi driver gave them a free ride because he was in such a good mood, then their plane tickets ended up being free thanks to a clerical error, and they were given a free ride from the airport to Scrooge’s mansion because who the hell could keep track of all the reasons why things were free? Goldie was certainly enjoying the perks of carrying around Scrooge’s little luck magnet. If she didn’t have places to be, she’d stop by his office and yell at him for not telling her about the kid sooner.

That being said, he was starting to get a little too attached and it was bugging the hell out of her.

“So when are you gonna visit again? We could go to another casino!” Gladstone said excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Or some other place you’d need my luck for. An underground poker game, maybe?”

Goldie chuckled and leaned back, recognizing the area the taxi turned into as only a few blocks from Scrooge’s place. “Look, kid -”

“Gladstone!”

“...right. Gladstone. This has been lots of fun, but you shouldn’t get confused. I’m not a part of your family, I’m not gonna just stop by and visit and take you on trips all the time. I just conveniently already had plans to go somewhere where I’d benefit from some luck.”

He frowned. “So this is it? You’re just done with me now?”

“Well…” She shrugged. “I don’t like to limit myself. Who knows what the future will hold? I just wouldn’t get your hopes up or plan for me coming back anytime soon.”

Gladstone pouted again and let out a quiet hmph! before turning to look out the window. They’d arrived at the front gate of Uncle Scrooge’s house and he’d decided he was just about ready to leave.

They came to a stop and Gladstone quickly opened up the door and stepped outside, stretching dramatically and yawning. He turned to say something to Goldie when he was cut off by a loud, familiar screech.

“THERE HE IS!”

Gladstone turned to see Donald and Uncle Scrooge running towards him from down the sidewalk. He was very confused to see that they’d gone for a walk instead of hanging around the house, since they never wanted to go for walks when he was in the mood.

“Hi, Uncle Scrooge-”

Scrooge ran over and swept Gladstone up in a giant hug. “We’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, lad! Where’ve you been? What did you…” Scrooge’s words faded out as he noticed the familiar smirk staring at him from the inside of a taxi.

“Hey there, hun.”

“G-Goldie?!” Scrooge looked at her and then down at Gladstone and then back up at her. “Did you take him?!”

“Sure did,” she responded with a shrug. “I left you a note in your office. You should really pay more attention to these things.”

Donald just watched this conversation with a frown. He wanted to assume that Aunt Goldie was lying about leaving a note, but he also knew that Uncle Scrooge definitely didn’t check and just assumed the worst when they couldn’t find Gladstone all day. He’d been screaming about how Daphne was going to kill him for losing her son, but it seems he didn’t lose anyone at all.

Scrooge sputtered angrily at Goldie, holding Gladstone against his legs and trying to find his words. “You-! You...you kidnapped him!”

“I did no such thing, you old miser. He wanted to come along,” Goldie said, glaring angrily. She turned towards her cabby and said something that the boys couldn’t hear, then the car started to drive away.

Scrooge glared right back until Gladstone, a few moments later, shook himself out of Scrooge’s grip and ran towards the car. “Wait! But-! What about my profits?!” he shouted as it turned onto the next street over.

Gladstone sighed, realizing his luck wasn’t gonna bring his money back to him. Though he guessed he still had a really fun time and he didn’t exactly need the money, so maybe that was enough. He looked up to see Uncle Scrooge staring down at him. “What’s up?”

“Should I be concerned about this?” Scrooge asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gladstone shrugged. “Should I be concerned that a stranger came into your house and took me on a trip across the globe without you knowing about it?”

That one shut Scrooge up, and he huffed before turning around and heading back to the manor. Gladstone looked over at Donald who just seemed to be confused.

“What’s wrong, Donald-o?”

He frowned and shrugged. “I’m just surprised that Aunt Goldie took you on a trip, is all. She’s never taken me or Della anywhere.”

Gladstone slapped Donald on the back a little harder than he meant to, making the slightly younger duck quack. “Eh, I wouldn’t think too hard about it. Ladies can’t resist my charm, after all!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “You know she’s Uncle Scrooge’s girlfriend, right?”

“Huh?” Gladstone put a hand to his chin and thought about some things Goldie had said to him over the past twenty-four hours. He nodded slowly. “You know what? That makes a lot of sense. Yup, yup. That explains everything.”

“So happy for you,” Donald mumbled and started the long walk back to the manor.

Gladstone quickly caught up to him and smiled brightly. In fact, he just wouldn’t stop smiling at his cousin. He was smiling so much that it was making Donald even more irritated than he’d already been.

“What?”

“Don’t you wanna know about my trip?”

[olderthanthemorning]

Be My Mistake (Draco Malfoy)

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader, ex!George Weasley x Reader

summary: trying to get over someone by getting under someone else doesn’t work out as well as everyone claims (based on the song “be my mistake” by the 1975)

wc: 2.4K

warnings: angst, some steamy scenes but no smut

a/n: hello! this is my first imagine and first time i’ve written anything for fun in actual years! i’d love feedback!

****

Be my mistake Then turn out the light She bought me those jeans The ones you like

You fell next to me, still breathing heavily, and I rolled over onto my side, staring at the jeans that were thrown haphazardly across the room before we climbed into my bed. They were worn and hugged me in a number of places, all of which were right, according to you. In the moments after you said this, I couldn't think of a witty response, because your attention only reminded me where the pants came from. How I pulled them out of the gift bag and shrieked, and looked at him, who knew I had been eyeing them for weeks now at the local vintage store. I remember throwing my entire body onto his, trying to encompass all of my love and appreciation into one embrace, and the small laugh he let out. He wrapped his arms around my waist, where your hands had been moments ago. It didn't feel the same, though. You both have large hands, but his are rough and calloused contrasted by the warmth they always seemed to possess. Yours are smooth and gentle, but still obviously in control. Pale and slender, they're like icicles at times, but I don't mind, I'm thankful for the differences on nights like this one. Your soft snores bring me back to the present, and I turn back to see your eyes closed, so softly that it looks like you could open them at any moment. Your lips are parted slightly, your bare chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, a time signature to dance to. I take in the sight for a few seconds before turning again, my back to you as I strain to reach the small lamp and turn off the light. As I close my eyes, I wonder if tomorrow will be the day I wake up and find enough fulfillment in your hands to forget his.

I don't want a hug I just wanna sleep The smell of your hair Reminds me of her feet

I remember starting to cry as your lips moved with mine. It was silent, but unable to ignore. Bitterness and salty tears entered my mouth and ruined the moment. I remember feeling pathetic as you pulled away and open your eyes in concern, I mean who cries during a hook up? You kept asking me if I was okay and what was going on. I just want to keep going, I wanted your touch engulfing me so I couldn't think of anything else. I want to feel you and no one else. If it had been any other time I probably would've noticed the uncharacteristic softness in your tone as you tell me I can stay with you that night. I could tell you're trying to find a way to ask what was wrong, why I'm so upset, but I'm not interested in having a heart to heart with the boy I was sleeping with about the boy I was in love with, and how they weren't the same person, so I ignore your obvious curiosity. All I want is to sleep, and you're more than content to agree, preparing the blankets. You offer me one of your shirts to sleep in, but I shake my head and decide to just use mine. After a few minutes of silence, I lay down and think about how your bed is colder than I recall. You pull me into your chest, close enough that I could feel your breath, and smell your scent. Most of our encounters had smelled like sweat, sex, and desperation. But tonight you smell like rain and mint, and there was a musky wood smell left over from your conditioner. It brought me back to the summers with George. Running through the grass after a rain, our feet stomping through puddles that exploded and coated our legs in water and bits of mud. Trying to beat each other to the bottom of a hill, only to slip on the slick ground, tackling the other on the way down. His mother would scold us for tracking mud in the house, but would wrap us in towels and blankets and hand us cups of hot tea nevertheless. He would wrap his long arms around my shoulders for warmth and place his head on top of mine, humming a nameless melody. He whispers "I love you," but it's almost as if it's not to me. He speaks it to the room around us, as a quiet declaration. A way to let the place he loved, the place he grew up in, know how he felt. I feel more hot tears fall from my closed eyes onto your pillow and feel myself slip into sleep. The last thing I remember is your thumb wiping away the wetness on my cheek. It was slow but assured, like you had been practicing the motion for months.

So don't wait outside my hotel room Just wait 'til I give you a sign 'Cause I get lonesome sometimesSave all the jokes you're gonna make While I see how much drink I can take Then be my mistake

The portraits in the corridor are all sleeping as I slink back towards my common room. I can tell I've had about half a drink too many as I stare at the ground and try to feel like the hallway was moving sideways. The party in the Ravenclaw tower had been a good one, aside from the slightly pretentious music playing. I make a note to tell my roommate that the cute boy from your herbology class had asked about her again. A curse escapes my lips as I trip over my own feet and catch myself in time to look up and see you leaned against the wall next to the portrait entrance. "New day with the new legs, huh?" a knowing smirk creeps across your face and I roll my eyes. "Verrrrry funny, Draco. You been waiting here all night?" I approach him and link my hands together behind his neck, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear, "I can sneak you upstairs if you want." You frown, becoming aware of the alcohol on my breath and sigh, "No, I actually think you should go up to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning."

"You're no fun," the skin on your neck is sweet and tender and I start to pepper it with kisses, trying to convince you to stay, "come on, I know you want to."

"No, you're drunk," you lift my arms and duck under the hold I have you in.

"Then why are you even here?" I can feel a spark of agitation growing in my chest, fueled by the heat left behind by the alcohol. "If you didn't come here to for that then why did you come at all?"

"I came here to talk, y/n, I didn't think you would be wasted." You scoffed and looked away, you thought after all the nights together, it wasn't a surprise you wanted to see me again.

"Please, that's not what this is. It's just sex. You know that." I turned away in annoyance, looking around to focus on anything but your eyes burning into my back.

"You cried to me and you sleep in my bed, I'm sorry if I thought that meant it was maybe more than sex!" I can hear the frustration in your voice.

I whipped around, "well it's not! it's just fucking. I told you that from the beginning. I don't know why you're getting attached, you're not my bloody boyfriend!" On the last word I push you, huffing in anger, pieces of my hair dangling in front of my face.

You back up, mostly out of shock, as my push couldn't actually throw your large frame off balance. There's a glimmer of hurt in your eyes, but mostly it's a look of defeat as you just say, "clearly," pressing your lips into a thin line and spinning to walk away down the dimly lit hall.

"That was brutal," a portrait of an older man holding a french horn said looking at me.

"Fuck off," I say before turning to say the password and enter the common room.

I shouldn't have called 'Cause we shouldn't speak You do make me hard But she makes me weak

A week later you're in my room again, loosening your tie and slipping your hands under my sweater. Neither of us had said anything about the argument, but what we were doing didn't require talking, so it wasn't brought up. Your lips are on mine, full of longing and lust, frantic to continue. Our tongues fought for dominance as I fell backwards onto my bed, you fell on top of me, your firm body flush on mine. It's hungry, like we are both searching for something in each others' lips. You taste like spearmint and cigarettes and kind of like darkness, like kissing cold shadows. It was a refreshing vapor that left wherever you touched tingling. It was like the reality of a cloud, misty yet powerful. It wasn't like kissing George. Kissing George was like that feeling of waking up for a split second in the morning and being able to close your eyes again and be reemerged in the amazing dream you were having. It was relieving. It made me think about the song that goes "I'll stop the world and melt with you," because that's what it was like. I was completely at his disposal, vulnerable and open, but so was he. He tasted like honey and citrus, which reminded me of warm summer days. The kisses were often broken up by laughs as we stumbled around whatever room or corner we were in, George usually hitting his head on something, and me kissing it better as he buried his face in my neck, covering it and my shoulder in smaller kisses.

You bite my lip and I moan, remembering who I'm with. Opening my eyes, I can't help but feel a small drop in my stomach, like something was lost. I try to focus on the feeling of your hands on me, needy but confident, but I can't push the feeling completely away. It sits near me on the bed side table, not interfering, but waiting, watching, knowing that it'll have my attention once you and I are finished.

And don't wait outside my hotel room Just wait 'til I give you a sign 'Cause I get lonesome sometimes Save all the jokes you're gonna make

While I see how much drink I can take Then be my mistake

On my way to my table for breakfast, I make a deliberate detour to the Slytherin table. The usual gang surrounds you as you laugh at their jokes between sips of juice. Your smile is casual, and you look happy. You always look more beautiful when you look happy. I barely have to stop as I lean down and whisper in your ear, "meet me outside my common room during free period." By the time you turn to look at me, I've continued walking to my table. In the past, most of our interactions happened after nightfall, but I was feeling different today, confident almost. If Pansy didn't like me talking to you, she could bring it up with me, herself.

The first two classes of the day tick by at an agonizing pace. It felt like every fifteen minutes I would check the clock only to see that it had been two. Thankfully, the period had ended and I headed towards the familiar path to the common room. It had been a dull lesson, the continuation of the previous day's lecture on the various types of confundus charms, and how to know which to use depending on the size of the recipient, and how many fingers they had. I think if I had to lose a finger I'd choose my right ring finger, because it wouldn't hinder my ability to make pinky promises or make rude gestures. I know you wouldn't choose that one, though, because that's the finger that you wear your favorite ring on. The silver should make you're skin look even paler but the jewelry just extenuates the divots and curves of your slender fingers. I can't help but notice this is the first time I've ever been able to think about that ring without rolling my eyes.

The corridor outside my common room was pretty empty, seeing as most students were in class. There is no sign of you yet so I decide to sit on the floor and wait. I wonder if you've been having as much trouble in potions as I have. Probably not, you were always so clever in that class, maybe you could help me study. Imagining a nook in the library with a table that is ever-slightly too small for all of our things. Our elbows would touch and we would look up at each other and giggle, but other than that it would be silent. Yes, that would be nice. Another few minutes pass by and I can feel myself begin to grow impatient. Surely you can't still be kissing a teacher's ass? A voice starts coming from around the corner and my head lifts in time to see two fifth year boys walk past, one giving a detailed run down of the most recent quidditch game. I pull a book out of my bag and flip through the pages of muggle poems from my muggle studies class. Stopping every few pages, I find myself enjoying many of them. They are short and concise. I can appreciate their ability to say such grand declarations in so few words. Even the words themselves are mischievous, alone they mean nothing, scenarios of everyday life. However, in context, they dance with others to create metaphors. It was almost how wizard photos would capture a movement, a specific moment, rather than just an image. I come across a single sentence that reads, "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." At first it means nothing. In fact, it takes an entire minute for my mind to drift back to George. I'm almost proud that it takes so long, because I know a few weeks ago my mind would've been occupied before I even read the statement. The time on my watch tells me it has now been an hour since I expected to see you leaning against the very wall my back pressed against now. For a second time I come to a thought that I probably should have come to sooner. You're not coming.

[thefreakydeaky]

Call Out My Name

Chapter One Title: All I Know

Characters: Negan x Plus Size Reader, The Saviors, The Wives, Eugene

Summary: You belonged to him.Try as you might to pretend indifference, Negan’s very presence has awakened feelings in you that you believed had died with the old world.Is the ruthless King of the Sanctuary still human enough to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, Canon Gore & Violence.

Word Count: 2,930

Careful to avoid making any noise, you pressed down on the stainless steel lever.As discreetly as you could manage, you peered into the communal living space.Sherri and a few of the other wives sat together on the large sectional speaking in hushed tones. Your prison guard however, was absent. You grinned. Dropping all pretense, you stood up straight and let the door swing shut behind you.

“Good Morning.” You called out cordially.

Her eyes gave you an appraising once over. They paused at the sight of the old flannel you had on over your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Negan’s first wife asked sternly.

“Where ever the wind takes me on this fine day, Miss Sherri.”

The remnants of a southern upbringing scolded you for being rude.You knew well that all of these girls had to put up with the boss man same as you,but you couldn’t risk getting caught just to be polite.

“He’ll be angry.” You heard her call after you, but Negan was always angry. So you didn’t let that stop you.

There was no way of knowing how long you had, but you intended to explore as much of the sanctuary as possible. You had been out of the room before, sure, but you had only seen flashes of the place as you ran past.Then there was the mini-mission you went on two months ago to find out what was making Joey late. Once you figured out what day of the week Pastry day was, it was simple.Third day of every week, Joey headed straight for the bakers and stood in line for a good half hour. You left when they handed him the sweet bread and found you could beat him back to the room.That was the most you had seen of the sanctuary since your arrival and was not the best way, you were convinced, to get to know and appreciate the beauty this place might hold.

The Sunlight felt nice for the first few seconds after you stepped out of your building, but soon enough the humidity ruined the moment.

You stayed on the greenery beside the road to avoid burning your feet, following the gravel path to the market place.Careful to avoid the baker’s side of the warehouse, you walked idly passed stall after stall of goods and services.

Your eyes caught on a table of battered shoes. You recognized the pasty ex-alexandrian running the table.Eugene, he was called.You knew this from the stories Tanya told you at dinner time.He was nothing but a blubbering wuss from the sound of it, so you figured you could handle him.You strode confidently to the front of the line and smiled.

“Excuse me?” You found yourself demanding not two minutes later.You glared at Eugene until he looked away.

“You don’t have credit.”

“The hell I don’t!”

“How many more times do you need me to say it?”Eugene repeated a smirk on his lips.

He leaned back in his chair looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“How fucking dare -” You started to shout, your voice ringing out through the warehouse.

Calling attention to yourself was the last thing you wanted to be doing you reminded yourself anxiously. You scrambled to come up with a different tactic.The corners of your mouth pulled up into a practiced grin that you never thought you would have cause to use again.

“My my,” Injecting sugar into your voice, you leaned across the table until you were nearly close enough to touch him.“Look at you! You’ve been runnin’ with the big dogs long enough to do a halfway decent impression, Eugene.”

Eugene’s shifty eyes widened. “You know my name?”

“Negan only ever talks about one genius with a mullet.”You lowered the volume of your voice conspiratorially, “How fortunate you are that my darling husband hasn’t seen through you yet.” You postured, taking a risk. “Maybe, I ought to help him see you for what you really are?”

“He will never believe you.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t make any sense for me to lie about a man I have never met. All i have to do is call into question your history with the people of Alexandria and make it seem like I feel concerned for his safety.”

Metal chair legs scraped against cement as Eugene pushed his seat back and stood.

“I’m g-going out for a smoke.Them shoes better be the only thing missin’ when I get back.” His trembling lower lip killed any affect his wrathful tone might have had on you.

You snickered at his retreat.

Your white dress fanned out behind you as you hurried away brown leather contraband on your feet, eager to begin your self guided tour.

Building after building of industrial rot, a few rusty tin shacks, and a sad row of herbs and spices later, you found yourself in front of the main building itself.

The Sanctuary’s weather beaten concrete face was made of cruel sharp angles. Her broken windows were yellowing jagged teeth.She stared brutally down at you until you couldn’t bare to meet her eyes anymore and turned, walking brusquely away from her frightening visage.

You turned the next corner only to freeze in your tracks.The wet raspy growling filled your ears before the smell hit you.

Walkers

Your eyes swept from left to right a few times trying to count, to keep track and then you realized, that they weren’t coming for you. There was a chain link fence separating them from you.Your brow knitted.They were tied down.They were, for the most part, stationary.Some chained up, some tied up, some stuck through with pipes. It took a twisted mind to come up with such a gruesome thing.

You wondered if Negan had come up with the idea himself.You shook the thought away. You didn't want to know. You made for the only corner of the god forsaken place you hadn’t yet visited.

The stolen too-big boots kicked up loose bits of gravel behind you as you headed for the backlot. Little did you know that you had an audience.Eyes followed your trek down the road from the loading dock behind you.

The field was inhabitted by broken wood pallets, a rusted up old mercury with bullet holes along the side, some old crates, a busted up head board, ruined tires, and tin sheeting. They lay rotting in the grass.Nearer the chain link fence, lay the final resting place for the few men who managed to stay on good terms with Negan until their last moments. Crude wooden headstones marked with paint stuck out in a bad attempt of making a row.

You slowed down as you reached the end of the pavement and waded into the living green sea of grass hoping not to encounter any snakes.The damp blades were staining the skirt of your dress, but it’d be worth the scolding. A long jagged claw snagged at your dress.You cursed. As you pulled it loose, you realized it was a foot and a half of wood that likely came off of one of the pallets.You tossed it aside and smirked.Now that you’d gone and torn the thing, he would be extra pissed. Hell if you were going to get him good and mad you had better do it well you thought, untieing the bright orange ribbon from around your wrist. Negan's latest gift to you. Each time you saw it, it reminded you of who you belonged to. You frowned as you let it flutter to the ground. It may as well have been a dog collar.

Negan was following you, keeping far enough away not to draw attention.He cursed Fat Joey for letting you out.That idiot was going to pay.He grit his teeth as he watched you wade into the tall grass.Flannel shirt or not you were ruining your dress.Where the fuck was he supposed to find you another dress as nice as the one you had on? The sight of you tugging on your skirt brought his eyes to your wrist. He saw you take off your bracelet and let it fall. Did you have any idea how hard it was to come by anything in bright colors these days?Of fucking course not!You were a spoiled selfish ungrateful untamable thing.He was not going to be taking it easy on you this time.He spotted you staring at the barbed wire topped fence and froze.

He didn’t have to imagine you attempting to clamber over the high fence, face full of determination fueled by spite.He would never forget it.Your last attempt to leave made it clear that you didn’t give a shit about your own well-being anymore.Negan cursed under his breath. God help you if you were stupid enough to pull another stunt like that.Yet he knew way down deep inside, somewhere primal, that you belonged to him.After three years and fifteen failed attempts to leave him, Negan had come to the conclusion that he had to do everything in his power to make you want to stay.

Despite the show and the accusations he had made, alternately burning and bashing some person or another, every time you fucked up Negan went easy on you.The second he’d laid eyes on you, he’d chucked his personal rule book out the window. He was afraid that this made him look soft and that burned his pride like nothing else could.

However, women with your body type had always been his preference and He knew, a figure like yours was a rare find these days. He wanted you. Negan wanted you badly. More than anything, he wanted you to want him to fuck you.It was a frustrating blue balls inducing shit show of a situation.Charming women had always come easy to him. It was his shit luck that you weren’t easily charmed. He followed you into the field. His eye caught the shine of the ribbon easily. As He pocketed the scrap of orange cloth, the memory of your first meeting came to mind.

Your hair pulled back into a braid, a lovely face, enough cleavage showing to catch his eye. Your faded jeans had holes in the thighs and your breathing was heavy from your attempt to out run The Saviors.

You looked so darn pretty kneeling before him.You’d had the audacity to meet his gaze. It pissed him off and turned him on in equal measure.Your eyes captivated him.They were burning with resentment, but no tears.Not his Y/n. You didn’t cry, didn’t beg, and didn’t flinch at the sight of Lucille.Not even after he’d dirtied her up a bit.Near the end of his speech,some traitorous switch inside him had flipped.

“Darlin’, You have got a look in your eyes that says you haven’t been fucked right in years.” He drawled smiling his slick easy smile.”Why don’t you come on home with me, I’ll show you how good it can be with a real man.”

“You expect me to believe that a bean pole like you can handle curves like mine? Honey, I would eat you alive.”

He laughed low and long.The genuine mirth startled everyone, but you.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.I just wanna love you right.”

“Well, I am sorry, Mister Real Man, but your pick up lines are bad jokes at best and that mouth of yours...” You shook your head in disapproval. “So dirty.”

You were meant to be his. No doubt about it.

“Mmm, there are plenty of good things I can do with this dirty mouth and you are curious to find out, I can tell.”

Negan’s big strong hand had fisted into the collar of your flannel pulling you toward him. You stumbled onto your feet to keep from being dragged. Before you could catch your balance, his lips were on yours.

Unbeknownst to Negan, unlike his bat and savior show, the heated kiss he gave you impressed you.

He nipped at your lower lip and turned back to what was left of your group.

“We are gonna do just fine, Dollface. As for the rest of you sorry shits, You are going to bring me my stuff and then go out and get me something nice.”

His hazel eyes gleamed down at you. “We’ll consider it a wedding present.”

Your exclamation was drowned out by the saviors’ hearty laughter as you were forcefully led to his truck.

From the moment Negan made you a wife, you vowed that you would get away from him even if you died trying. After three years and fifteen failed escape attempts, you had come to the conclusion that making him hate you was the only way out of the wives club.

You rummaged through the crates and found quite a few empty glass bottles. They would do. You put them all in the same crate and carried it with you as you counted your steps. You waited until you were at least two yards away to throw the first one.

Thunk

Wading further into the tall weeds and grass he frowned at the unfamiliar sound.

“Well I’ll be damned.” You murmured to yourself as you bent to pick up another bottle.

You glared at the Mercury, closed your fist around the neck of the bottle, and swung. It grazed the roof, but landed on the other side of the car.

“Have you lost your freaking mind?”

Your shoulders tensed at the familiar deep baritone of your husband’s voice. You stood there clenching your teeth, frustrated with the intrusion.You schooled your features before turning to face him.

“Hey there, Sugar. What are you doin’ out here?”

Negan came to stand before you, but he didn’t ask the questions you had expected him to ask.Perhaps, Where in the hell did you get shoes? or How in the hell did you manage to escape a locked room with a savior standing watch?Instead, Negan swallowed his anger and made himself the very picture of patience.

“I could ask you the same question, Darlin’.” He replied.

You stared at him, curiosity battling the wrath within you.

“Well?” Negan prompted after a minute or two of your silence.

Your thoughts raced.

What the fuck?!Why was he being nice?!He should be letting you have it right now! He should be cussing up a storm!

“Just... keepin’ busy.”You said lamely.

“In the junkyard? Playing with glass? That’s a hell of a thing for a Queen to do.” He murmured.”You could have hurt yourself.”

You were disgusted by how genuinely concerned he sounded and cringed at him calling you “Queen”.For weeks now, you had been working on him, from picking fights, to ruining belongings, to giving him the cold shoulder.Until finally you’d been able to break out again.You wanted him good and mad and Negan was not cooperating.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Actually, I haven’t been here long.I walked the whole Sanctuary first then ended up here.”You shrugged and made to pick up another bottle.”It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Who do you think you are?”

You should have known his anger couldn’t stay contained for long.

“Beg your pardon?” You snapped.

“I said,” Negan growled pulling you toward him by your shirt collar, “Just who, in the fuck, do you think you are?” His eyes glowered down at you.

“Y/F/N Fucking Y/L/N.” You declared and kicked him.

The shock on his face turned to fury. Familiar though the expression was, Negan had never turned it on you.Adrenaline spurred you into action.You yanked out of his grasp and tore through the field.

“Y/n!” He bellowed.

You didn’t dare look behind you as you pushed yourself to run.