#I’m also making a playlist of songs that would be must plays at their wedding if anyone wants that….dm me

[sokkas-therapist]

I just think zukka should put a little fire lily in their respective pockets for their wedding that’s all

[phoebe-delia]

26 pls

Oooohh, Nonnie, you picked a great one. This is "ivy" by Taylor Swift, and lemme tell ya, this song tells an interesting story. It has a lot of different interpretations, and this is mine: Drarry edition. A huge, gigantic, moon-sized thanks to my darling @written-in-ash for the wonderful alpha and beta work. I love you more. CW: smoking; arson; infidelity but not between Harry and Draco.

"Don't you have a choice?"

I laugh and toss my cigarette to the ground, crushing the ash under my new dress shoes. "When have I ever?"

Potter frowns, almost pouting. "You have free will, don't you? You could be inside at the party, watching her show off the ring and talking about venues. But instead, here you are,” he says. “With me."

I want to laugh again. How do I tell him that the force guiding me to him is magnetic? That I couldn't resist his pull if I wanted to?

Instead, I match his gaze, north connecting to south.

"Here I am."

****

My fingers tangle themselves in his hair, bringing his lips to mine. The wall is solid and cool on my back. Harry presses me up against it, trapping me there like he’s afraid that I want to leave—as if I wouldn’t stretch this moment into eternity if I could.

It’s over too soon, and later I’m watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps. The judgmental moonlight glares accusingly at me through the window, but I pay it little mind. There’s privilege in having a natural shine. They would know, the moon and Harry.

I can’t stay here for much longer; eternity awaits.

****

Father is waiting for me in the living room. His glower makes me miss the moon, and I almost try to Apparate away, but he turns on the wards before I can lift my wand, and I’m trapped.

“What is the meaning of this?” Parchment crinkles in his tight fist. With his other hand, he brings a lit cigarette to his lips, letting the smoke curl in the air; mother must be out of the house.

My stomach churns, but I make my face blank. “Contrary to what you might think, Father, I lack the ability to identify the parchment while it is mangled in your hand.”

He snarls and tosses the parchment to the floor. I bend and pick it up, and my heart drops at the familiar handwriting.

Harry, I’ve thought it over, and I have no regrets, no matter what happens. I treasure every moment we’ve had. So, say the word, my love, and I’ll follow you. I’ll run with you to the ends of the earth.

I swallow hard. “It’s not what it seems.”

Father snarls. “Don’t lie to me, boy! I knew you were acting strange. I assumed it was nerves before the wedding. Turns out you’ve had a secret little coping mechanism in your bed!”

“That’s not true.” My voice is low and miraculously steady, belying my nerves. “We love each other, Father, and just because you and Mother chose to spend your lives in a sham of a marriage doesn’t mean I have to.” The words spill from my lips like a secret I’d kept from myself, but the truth tastes sweet and satisfying on my tongue.

Father smirks then, cruel and knowing. “You sound just like your mother.”

“I—what?”

“Perhaps you were too busy in Potter’s bed to notice, but your mother’s bag has been packed since yesterday.”

I feel faint. “Wh...What?”

“She’s gone,” Father waves the cigarette in the air lazily. “To the South of France, probably.”

My throat dries as the image of my mother, alone and heartbroken, plays in my mind. “When did this start?” My voice is raspy, weak and foreign to my ears.

“A year ago?” Father shrugs. “Five? Twenty? Who knows. What matters is that you’ve both made your choice. And now, so have I.”

Dread rushes through my body, prickling my skin. “What do you mean?”

Father smiles. He walks leisurely toward the window, looking around the room. He stops at the glass pane, running his free hand over the curtains. “You know, Draco, this house has been passed down through generations of Malfoys.”

“Yes, I know, Father. You may have mentioned that a few hundred times.”

He glares at me but continues. “You were going to live here with Astoria, one day. You were to be the next generation to carry on this proud Malfoy tradition. But I suppose,” his free hand grasps the curtain. “Everything has its end.”

“Father, what are you—”

Suddenly, he brings his cigarette to the fabric of the curtain, causing it to catch fire. Panicked, I freeze, unable to reach for my wand by the time the flames crept up the fabric and spread to the ceiling.

Father grins manically. “Goodbye, son.” He raises his wand and Apparates away.

“Father!” I stumble forward, my arm reaching out futilely to stop him but instead grasping empty air. I look at the flames swallowing the only home I’d ever known. Perhaps an Aguamenti would salvage it. Perhaps I could still marry Astoria and help Father return to his senses. Perhaps, even, my life might go on as it had been planned.

But then again, when has it ever?

Now, the choice is mine.

I Apparate away.

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Blurb #9

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW- none

Author’s Note- this comes from this ask by @leahblackk thanks so much for this love!! it was so much fun to write 💛 also sorry if it looks a little wonky I’m on mobile!!

Word Count— 2K (not really a blurb)

-

Studies show that the music we listen to at 14 years old is the most influential on our personality and development. Naturally, there’s some exceptions to this. Spencer, for one, tended to listen to classical music or the Beach Boys records his mother had around the house as a teenager. He still can’t listen to jazz without the bittersweet memories of Ethan coming back to haunt him. His music taste, in his opinion, didn’t really develop until Derek made him listen to his CDs on rides during their commute.

It wasn’t until he met his neighbor, Y/N that he learned just how impactful music can be on someone’s life. Spencer, despite Derek and Penelope’s efforts, doesn’t really enjoy modern music. There’s one expectation to that though: Y/N. Everytime she drags him over for late night dinners and movie nights, she always ends up putting a Taylor Swift album on her vintage record player. It’s like a ritual that either comforts her, hypes her up, or softens her heartbreak. Through the months that they’ve been friends, Spencer’s come to enjoy the music nights. There’s something about the way that she sings about love and life that is so familiar to Spencer. The day he realized, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Y/N makes all those magical, heartwarming, Taylor Swift songs make sense.

So everytime he goes over to her apartment, before he knocks he’ll listen for the music. It’s hard to not let his profiling instincts kick when he does this. Thanks to his eidetic memory, Spencer can recognize any of the songs with only a couple seconds of the lyrics.

On a sunny Monday, Spencer listens closely for the record player. He can hear the upbeat, dance tunes of New Romantics. Okay, he thinks. If Y/N is listening to that song, she’s probably happy. So he knocks on the door, a big smile on his face ready to listen to the happiest Taylor Swift songs with the girl he’s pining for and try not to reveal just how much he wants her to love him back.

“Spence! Come on, we’re dancing” Y/N shouts loudly above the music. Spencer doesn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her he doesn’t dance, so he takes her hand and dances his heart away.

In between the jumpy and laughter the song shifts. Y/N must be playing it from her Alexa because the next song is from a different album, Paper Rings comes on next. A song dedicated to the kind of love that probably makes the most sense to Spencer. He’d marry Y/N without any kind of ring- and that’s a terrifying thought.

“I love this song!” Y/N says, closing her eyes and dancing wildly, “You like this one too, right Spence?” she says above the loud music.

Spencer, unable to fully articulate how much he loves this song, decides to grab Y/N by the hand and twirl her around and around. She’s laughing and smiling, happy as she could be. Spencer’s thoughts shift from how beautiful she looks, to how easy this is. How simple loving her could be, but how hard telling her is.

The music slows, turning to Lover, a song that Spencer has dreamt of dancing with Y/N to on a white veiled occasion several times. This must be her happy playlist, Spencer thinks as she pull him close. They’re slow dancing and if Spencer closes his eyes and quiets his mind, he can trick himself into thinking she loves him back. Afterall she holds him like she does.

“I like this one the best,” Spencer whispers, his eyes still closed as he and Y/N sway to the beat of the song, “It’s comforting,” he explains.

“It’s a good wedding song,” Y/N says, resting her head against his shoulder, “like a first dance song,”

“It is,” Spencer says, “It’s actually in the proper beats per second to be a waltz, which is a common dance for a traditional first dance at a wedding,”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, pulling herself in closer to Spencer as she pets small circles into his soft cardigan. The spot where she touches leaves her mark; his heart has belonged to her for awhile now, but Spencer’s ready to give her whatever else she wants, “but dancing like this is also very nice,”

“Hmm,” Spencer says, not trusting himself to say anything else. The music switches again, and Spencer knows the song, probably before even Y/N. Dress comes on and Spencer really isn’t sure how he’ll get through listening to the sultry song that croons about pining after your best friend. Part of him seriously thinks he’s being stalked, because those songs perfectly encapsulate his love and his admiration for the girl next door.

“Oh, I got asked out on a date,” Y/N says, seemingly shocking Spencer out of his daydream, “at the coffee shop. His name is John, he seems nice,” she tells him, sounding a little nervous.

“That’s great, Y/N,” Spencer says, trying to put on a smile for his best friend, but fails to do so, “I’m happy for you,”

“Well it’s, you know. I think I just need to put myself out there and stop waiting around for my wild dreams to come true. Because after all your wildest dreams are just that, dreams,” she says, a little sadly.

“Call me after, Y/N, just to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer requests, he squeezes her hand, in what he hopes can be seen as a friendly gesture, despite him not wanting to let go.

“Of course, Mr. FBI,” Y/N teases, “Alexa, shut up! Hey, Spence, you want to order pizza. It’s been like a week since I watch Long Pond and I’ve got that itch that only listening to This Is Me Trying while stuffing my face with pizza and white wine can fix,”

“Sure, Y/N,” Spencer says, smiling through his heartbreak. He tries to not let Y/N see the tears that prickle in the corners of his eyes when the 1 comes on. It would have been fun, if he could have been Y/N’s “1”. Even in heartbreak, Taylor Swift can capture exactly what Spencer feels.

--

He almost didn’t bother checking by her apartment because he knew it’s her date with Jake or John, or whatever his name was. Spencer’s not a man to get jealous, he knows that Y/N doesn’t owe him her love just because he loves her. He knows that, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt of her falling for someone other than him.

As he walks by, Spencer’s ears catch the music coming from her apartment. He hears the unrecognizable twangy strum of the guitar and knows it’s going to be back news. Without thinking, Spencer rumages into his pocket, looking for his spare key to Y/N’s apartment. He unlocks the door and is greeted by Y/N’s cat, August, meowing at the door.

“Where’s our girl?” Spencer says, picking up the cat as he slips off his shoes, “hey, Y/N. It’s Spencer. I heard the music and I just thought I’d check in. I thought you were going out on your date?” he asks, finding Y/N curled up on the couch, with piles of tissues littered around her.

“Please, Spence. I’m a mess. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, especially you,” Y/N tells him, mopping her eyes up and petting her lap for August to jump up.

“Hey, hey, honey. You don’t have to worry about being a mess in front of me, I already think you’re amazing,” Spencer says, softly. He tries to gracefully avoid the spoiled tissues, he might be in love with Y/N, but he’s not in love with her used tissues.

“He-he stood me up,” Y/N stutters as a new wave of tears floods her face. Spencer leans over, shutting Alexa off. The sorrow, regretful tunes of Dear John turn off, leaving Spencer with the thought that it probably was an appropriate song to choose.

“I don’t even know why I try any more, Spence” she says, leaning into his body as he puts a comforting and protective arm around her upper half, “it’s useless. I’m doomed to be alone,”

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Spencer says, mumbling into her hair, “not at all. You’re amazing. You’re kind and so smart. You’re beautiful and you have great taste in music. Anybody would be lucky to date you,” he finishes, forgetting himself for a second as he kisses her hair. She smells like green apples and ivory soap.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” Y/N says. The emphasis on ‘friend’ giving Spencer a little hope at what she is subtly implying.

“What-what if I wasn’t? What if I wasn’t saying this as just a friend?” Spencer asks, daring to be bold and brave for once in his life. He couldn’t be bold and brave for Y/N, then who is he?

She must be thinking, because Y/N doesn’t say anything. Spencer’s mind instantly switches into full gear, thinking of how he’d get out of here all while sparing his feelings.

“Please don’t say those things, Spencer. Don’t say those things unless you mean it,” Y/N tells him, her voice sounding cold and far off, like she’s trying to put some distance between themselves to protect herself. Spencer’s mind ventures to take it as a good thing, when she doesn’t physically distance herself. She decides to stay with Spencer’s arms wrapped around her upper half and his hands drawing shapes on her back.

“I mean it, Y/N. I really do mean it,” Spencer says, sounding terrified, but feeling braver than ever. “I’d never lie to you about how you make me feel. Not anymore at least,” he explains, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“Can I show you something?” Y/N ask, her voicing sounding an awfully lot like Spencer’s with the mix of fear and tension and love fighting for dominance.

“Of course,” Spencer says, nodding into her hair and letting her go.

He watches and waits as she grabs her phone from the coffee table. Y/N launches her music app, but covers her phone so Spencer can’t see which playlist she’s choosing. Y/N has very curated Taylor Swift playlists kko that help her to either middle through her dark days or celebrate her happy ones.

The music starts and just within the first few notes Spencer can tell which song is playing. “Gold Rush,” he asks, of course getting it correct and making Y/N smile.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Y/N says, scooting in closer to Spencer so his chin rests over her head. “I don’t think you’ve heard this playlist yet,” she says, handing him her phone.

Spencer looks at the phone, reading the playlist title Songs That Remind Me of Spencer, but ends up having to do a double take.

“This song always reminded me of you, Spence. I think it just captures how beautiful you are and how scared I am that you’ll find someone that will make you feel that way. Someone that’s more beautiful and better for you—“

Spencer can’t hear it anymore so he does something that was only a figment of his imagination: he kisses Y/N. He holds her head in his hands, brushing gently on her temples. It’s wonderful and magical, and Spencer thinks that he could kiss her for his whole life. He wants to know what makes her whimper and whine or make her flush. He wants to know everything about her because he is her 1, just as she is his.

“You made a playlist for me?” Spencer says, breaking away from Y/N’s lips to kiss her face. All over her forehead, her cheeks and eyes. He kisses her like he can’t get enough and is only encouraged by Y/N giggles for approval.

“Of course I did, Spence. You’re just everything to me and I couldn’t quite say it myself. So I left it up to the best songwriter I know,”

“I’ll make you one, today. Tomorrow, everyday,” Spencer says, kissing Y/N’s hands and wrists, “I just want to make you happy and know how loved you are. Because I love you, Y/N” Spencer says

“Spence,” Y/N says, not quite able to articulate how much she loves him, kisses his forehead, “I love you. God. I love you so much. And I may or may not have re-written Hey Stephen as Hey Spencer,”

[irgmugurg]

Belphie's Music Taste

Mammon's Music Taste

Asmodeus's Music Taste

Belphie listening to lofi songs is simultaneously the cutest and funniest thing that I’ve ever heard.

Aw is the bratty little cowboy gonna listen to windchimes and sparkles. Yes. Yes, he is.

Aight hear me out. JUST LISTEN

Belphie listening to country music.

HE HAS THE COWBOY AESTHETIC ALREADY MIGHT AS WELL GO ALL THE WAY.

He’d start it as a joke but he’d gradually love falling asleep to the slow drawl of the music.

he thinks their super cheesy but proceeds to press play

"ugh more country music?" *clicks play*

Or even listening to those sad country army songs about being soldiers and missing your family

He 100% relates these songs to Lilith and having to fight for/against the celestial realm.

AT SOME POINT he’s layed with Beel and they both cried about country music/Lilith (think If Your Reading This and a bunch more by Tim McGraw, Arlington, and Your Gonna Miss This by Trace Adkins)

Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlise. FUCK. I’M GOING TO CRY.

I know some of these songs are from the point of view of a daughter and their dad but Belphie can’t help but think of being able to grow up and show Lilith how the world has changed.

Doesn’t even care that most of country songs are religion-based and yeah sometimes he gets so angry at Father for what he took from him but he remembers that now Lilith is up there still. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

Wishes he could still hold her, see her grow up, him and beel being her best men at her wedding, connecting the human and celestial realm

listens to circus songs and fucking cries

NICKELBACK. (he isn’t THAT bad okay, sometimes his songs SLAP) ((lullaby,,,belphie relates this song to his feelings of overwhelming anger in the attic)

Falling asleep holding each others hands, reminiscing about Lilith and the times they had together.

Mammon and satan, just to piss him off, played the wild west theme songs (The Good The Bad The Ugly theme) whenever he walked in a room and he would go demon mode (only for them to laugh harder, cowboy looking ass)

gets embarrassed if you hear him listening to country music

changes the song quickly, he can't have people knowing he genuinely likes it

listened to If I Die Young once and thought of Lilith

proceeded to block all mentions of this song

Anyway LOFI MUSIC.

He loves how soft and sweet it is even though it doesn’t match his “style”.

This motherfucker can be berated by Lucifer and he’ll put on headphones and just watch Lucifer scream at him and only hear soft Lofi music.

Lofi hip hop, Jazz, pop. He does not discriminate.

Very often gets the beats and small portions of the lyrics stuck in his head.

LOVES Shiloh Dynasty and all the remixes

But that is not the only thing that Belphie listens to. Oh no, definitely not.

Loves nightcore. Alvin and the Chipmunks who?

Alternatively likes listening to slowed down songs

Listens to the front bottoms and thinks about punching lucifer in his face

OUCH! By Matt Watson

HE LISTENS TO SCREAMO AND EMO MUSIC.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, SLEEPING WITH SIRENS, PIERCE THE VEIL.

Emo headass.

Is very much stuck in the 2010s (probably the last era he was able to listen to before getting locked in the attic and since getting out has been stuck there) and if MC introduces him to any more then even 2020 music.

It’s the emotions that he relates so heavily to but it also helps him stay awake to do tasks.

His turn to do dishes? Unearthly screaming comes from the kitchen. Please don’t worry he is just vibing.

He has the screamo voice. He doesn’t use it often because I don’t see Belphie as someone to sing along, more bopping to the music and swaying, MAYBE mumbling under his breath but nothing more.

Will do it with Lucifer around just to fuck with him

Why is the thought of Belphie on stage, smudged mascara, black leather clothes and screaming on the top of his lungs hot????

would 100% let you dress him up in that outfit but acts like he doesn't like it

Stop *bonk* being *bonk* a *bonk* belphie *bonk* simp *bonk*

He doesn’t like making playlists because its so much work so if he puts on Lofi to go to sleep to and he will stay sleeping on wild screamo music.

Listens to it most in the attic because that’s where a FUCKTON of his resentment/rebellious vibes come from and because he doesn’t want to bother Beel while they are sleeping.

Asshole probably doesn’t use his headphones anywhere else tho.

Asmodeus and Mammon don’t understand him but they love him nonetheless.

*demonic screeching* “Okay sweetie don’t forget about the student council meeting later today <3”

If Mammon vibes with a song he WILL scream along, incoherently though because he doesn’t know the lyrics.

Beel just kinda sits there. Doesn’t get it either but loves seeing Belphie look so at peace.

Old man lucifer “is that what you kids listen to today?” (but can he talk?? really?? listening to cursed records bc iTs InTeReStInG)

Satan gets it the most out of anyone else. When they have Anti Lucifer-League meetings Belphegor puts on the most rebellious, and relatable (for their cause) at least, songs and they both scream the lyrics.

he isn't shy showing these songs to you but has once attempted to show off his emo scream please don't laugh at him

OKAY BUT CLEANING UP THE LIVING ROOM WITH BELPHIE WHILE YOU BOTH SCREAM IS SO CUTE

Trophy Father’s Son by Sleeping With Sirens, Can You Feel My Heart, Keep Myself Alive, Sleepwalking by Bring Me The Horizon, Last Resort by Papa Roach, A LOT OF LINKIN PARK, Monster by Skillet, and OF COURSE Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

He probably wouldn't listen to wolf in sheeps clothing but *pointing* THATS HIM

Belphie has spent time crying over these songs. On late nights when he can’t sleep he cries about how he thinks Lucifer doesn’t love him and blames him for Lilith’s death. How MC must really hate him for how he’s acted. How different he is from his brother’s. (part of why he won’t listen to it in front of Beel)

please hold him and promise him that you don't hate him

He also LOOOOOVVES classical music but due to his history with it will not listen to it.

Aka how he used to lay on lucifer’s lap while he plays lullabies for him.

If Lucifer is playing classical music in the area tho? He can’t help but suddenly feel really sleepy. And no he didn’t fall asleep close enough to hear Lucifer scribble away on his paperwork (Lucifer knows he does and always has a blanket ready for when this happens).

lay with him and if you listen very carefully you can hear him mumbling the lyrics under his breath as he runs his fingers through your hair

One of my biggest things about belphie is that he is really smart even though he doesn’t like to put in the effort.

He likes to dissect these songs (typically passing thoughts and really paying attention, he won’t put to much effort into it) and get into them and it backfires because that means he’s really listening to these lyrics and it hits him THAT much harder. (STICKING LITTLE WHITE FLOWERS ALL UP IN HER HAAAAAIIRRRR)

End Note: Belphie doesn't have the largest music selection but the songs he listen to either help him sleep or makes him get all up in his feelings (bc he is emotionally stunted and its the only way he can cry).

[myelocin]

farewells etched in marmalade skies

synopsis: the good in oikawa tooru’s “goodbye,” comes in the form of iwaizumi hajime.

characters: oikawa tooru, you, iwaizumi hajime

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, more sky references r we surprised??? nO

wc: 1600+

a/n: my ex got engaged n i’m jus writing this to remind myself that even tho i loved sunsets bc of him,, marmalade skies will always be mine.

-

oikawa tooru enters your life with a hello, a hug, and an accidental kiss to the cheek. he loves you, at first, with love swirling so tenderly in the whirlpools of his caramel eyes. 

bright, you think. they look sparkling. 

you knew he yearned for the great things in life, while you were happy with the sunsets you ended the days with him. next to you, he looked not towards the sky but at the horizon that split the distance into water and sky and spoke of the adventures he wished to take that lay beyond it. 

it was in those moments where he looked like he loved life the most.

and as for you, the sky was enough. the marmalade skies that sketched fiery clouds into the heavens was always comfort enough. the horizon, you think was beautiful. but tooru, next to you, with his warm hands and sparkling eyes always anchored you back to shore. love, to you, was as simple as that. 

and because love blooming comes as simple as that, it also goes in the same manner. 

argentina was what laid beyond the horizon. the white sand, warm sun, and the promise of a future—his future—was what began the first paragraph of your inevitable farewell.

“is love a sacrifice or are we just unnecessarily suffering?” he asks you one night when he stares at the invitation letter to play for an international team.

“do you want me to go?” he asks again, and when he turns to you his caramel eyes tell you that he isn’t in love with life anymore.

“i don’t,” you answer truthfully, because the only thing you can offer him now is just that—truth.

“i won’t accept it then,” you hear but the hesitation that coats his words is as thick as the lump in your throat. you feel like you can’t breathe, then when you look at tooru, he looks like he can’t either.

“tell me,” you start. “are you suffering?”

tooru stays quiet, shifts, then sighs again.

“you’re hesitating, tooru,” you say again before he turns to you, an apology already swirling in his eyes as he reaches forward and cradles your hands in between his. warm, you think. he was always the familiar kind of warm.

“i’m sorry,” he finally tells you; voice smooth, almost like already rehearsed through the conversation before. you stare at him, not exactly sure how to feel.

“it’s okay,” you reply, offering him a smile. he chooses not to comment when he notices that your eyes don’t smile with you this time, but tooru supposes he understands the reasons as to why.

“i wanna see you in love with life again,” you finally tell him, and in front of you, tooru drops the letter and crosses distance between the two of you and holds you in an embrace, more whispers of his apology murmured in between his cries and the tangles on your hair.

the sky outside looks like marmalade, you notice. and it must feel warm too, because when the light from the opened kitchen window trickles in and the music from your neighbor’s old radio from the window next door shushes tooru’s cries, you soften.

he’s warm, you think. warm like the feel of his hands clasping yours in winter walks, and warm like the feel of his tear streaked face pressed against the junction of your neck and shoulder. so when the music loops, you smile again.

you know this tune; it’s the one the grandfather next door plays a total of ten times once every year on the day of he and his wife’s anniversary. and like clockwork, you hear their laughs. soft and a little cheeky where the happiness that radiated from it spoke of the decades they’ve shared together.

“dance with me?” you ask tooru, then cup his face in between your hands, angling it so that he stares right at you.

he nods. then the light from the marmalade skies outside hit his eyes and you remember why you’re in love.

you still don’t know the lyrics  of the song playing, and tooru seems like he doesn’t either. but he hums along to it as he sways with you, your steps not as quite in sync as it used to be. maybe because he’s crying, or because you’re tearing up yourself as you swipe at the fresh tears that keep rolling down from glassy pools of caramel.

and when you turn, for the first time you feel the warmth from the heavens. warmth from the skies that swirl with the colors of faded blue and orange marmalade. from your kitchen window, you don’t see the horizon from here—but you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

“is this it?” he asks you, and when the song from your neighbor’s old radio doesn’t loop after it stops, you both stay silent instead of saying goodbye.

 -

goodbye, you think, wasn’t said when tooru waved at you from the departure hall of the airport. it wasn’t said when you opened the drawers he used to occupy and began filling it with your own clothes either.

goodbye, in your eyes was when you saw him again for the first time after some years with life in his eyes and the horizon in his hands. and you could only smile, as you watched them dance in circles to a love song that became familiar to you from the opened kitchen window of your old apartment.

argentina treated him kindly, you think as you listen to him speak his vows with poems written in spanish. “te amo,” he whispers to her and your heart leaps in the crowd because the warmth of the heaven’s above kiss your back right as they speak their “I do’s” into the world.

“goodbye,” is what you tell him when he drops you off at the airport two days later.

“the sky today looks like the one from your wedding,” you tell him and tooru looks up, shrugs and laughs in your direction.

“i didn’t notice,” he says, smiling sheepishly towards you.

“is that so,” you laugh and tell him “goodbye” again as he waves as you from the departure hall. the skies, you think, was probably something only you saw. while tooru, you realize, had always looked forward—seeking for what always laid beyond the horizon.

in a way, it comforts you.

you realize that because of that—the marmalade skies would always be yours.

and what becomes yours comes to you under the marmalade skies of autumn.

you come to awaken to the thought that the good in oikawa tooru’s goodbye, was found in iwaizumi hajime’s hand that never failed to warm yours when the autumn chill said their hellos.  

it becomes hajime’s hand that pulled you up and spun you around in slow circles when oikawa’s absence made the world around you feel so still.

hajime, himself, becomes the good that made you appreciate the slow dances in quiet kitchens once again even if the song that shuffled on his playlist reminded you of wispy brown hair and spanish poems.

“i think i first met you under a sky like this,” hajime tells you as the sun dips and lights the sky into a sea of fire. he’s looking at you, green eyes turned into a muddled shade of a color you can’t quite make out, but looks all the shades clear at the same time.

“how long ago was that?” you laugh next to him, and he grins at you—in the way that looks so kind and so honest that you can’t help yourself but grin along with him.

“not long enough for me to forget,” he answers then lays back on the grass as he pulls you back down with him. warm, you think. not in the way that was familiar like tooru, but warm like the fireplace that waits to greet you back home.

“i didn’t know you were sappy,” you say, shifting your position so that you laid on his chest.

hajime laughs, and you catch yourself thinking that they chime like bells. he makes the autumn feel like summer and so you close your eyes, smiling at the memory of the summer sky’s warmth.

“for the right reasons i can be,” he retaliates before setting you down on the grass and shifting so that he’s leaning, propped up with one elbow and peering down at you. a shade in the shape of him covers you, but you reach out and pinch his cheek any way.

“am i a reason?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“you’re always a reason,” hajime answers, then laughs when you pinch his cheek again, muttering something about how he’s sounding so corny.

hajime peers down at you, his right hand moving to trace the sides of your cheek. he smiles, thinking that you look like the reflection of the marmalade skies he’s come to love ever since he saw you bathed in its colors on tooru’s wedding.

you looked like you were in love with life, he thinks. when the orange kissed the faded blue wisps in the sky and bathed the earth in a gleam of the warmest rays of light.

and marmalade skies, you suppose, will always truly be yours. especially in this moment when you look up at hajime’s face and feel the warmth of his skin triumph over the cold bite of the air. the skies, that always spoke of warmth and promises, only remind you that in this moment, as hajime leans down and murmurs his i love you into a kiss—that this was the promise that was meant for you.

so you suppose the good in oikawa tooru’s goodbye was when he was the first to let you go.

-

[stoportotouch]

okay my special interests are coagulating in an interesting way again; time to make a post about the Pathologic Opera Playing Only In My Mind.

i’ve talked a bit about voice types, which i have admittedly revised in my head a bit as i go, but that’s not all i’ve thought about. here’s a bit about stage picture, themes, musical style, and directorial style.

there is a specific type of somewhat self-referential and self-aware art music dating all the way back to the baroque and before such as purcell’s come ye sons of art! and ode to st. cecilia that is either about music or specifically about performance. it isn’t actually a genre but it’s very much something that you’ll notice after a while. britten also got quite into it, again with some st. cecilia-related music (hymn thereto this time) but also with things like his cantata rejoice in the lamb. this also occurs to a lesser or greater extent in his opera, especially in gloriana thematically and in death in venice.

on a surface level there are a couple of references that you could make, that are just “this sounds like this”. pathologic is also very aware of its status as a game or as a play i always imagined that you would kill probably young vlad on-stage and have something akin to billy’s execution and the subsequent down all hands and see that they go chorus. as russian romantic opera is very much its own thing with its own traditions born out of centuries of russian history i would also be very inclined to lean on that. if you’re doing britten-inspired that could work pretty well -- britten wrote arrangements of folk songs in his youth and retained that interest long into his career so it might be a little pulling around but also an interesting combination.

i keep updating the post with my pathologic playlist which now includes wond’rous machine (from purcell’s ode to st. cecilia) and for a reason separate to what i think about mark immortell, who just has the vibes of a countertenor and for whom i just like the irony of baroque, a very early genre which has a strong convention of historically informed practice, combined with a character who essentially represents pulling apart tradition. wond’rous machine is specifically about progress supplanting tradition -- in this case through the lens of pipe organs supplanting the sorts of ensembles that composers such as monteverdi would have written for. so i’m also thinking that the plague gets a style similar to this.

this is the point at which i will tell you my Separate Thought About St. Cecilia And Potential Uses For Her, and that is basically that victoria snr. and capella both get the symbolism traditionally associated with her. st. cecilia is the patron saint of musicians -- her feast day is actually britten’s birthday -- and the story is that she was an avowed virgin who was forced to be married off to to a man that she didn’t love. at her wedding she sat apart and ‘sung to god in her heart’. the symbolism is broadly “it’s my opera so i get to decide on the religious symbolism” but the self-reference of the patron of musicians is. quite a delightful idea.

unfortunately we must now talk about religion, but don’t worry. we won’t talk about it very much, because tbh the end of Pathologic As An Opera is like... idk how you would even achieve that and that’s one of the two places where it comes into play and that’s more me noticing that the loading screen when you load a save in a game that you’ve finished in p2 reminds me of and i saw a new heaven than it is any particular informed statement. (to be honest the diurnal ending generally gives me those vibes.) i... struggle in vain mostly with clara because her symbolism is so deliberately mixed up even though she’s the most obviously religiously-themed character.

the other thing i was thinking was specifically artemy retrieving the living blood and that is a fairly straightforward “well that reminds me of the nunc dimittis”. there’s a famous russian (or old church slavonic) setting of that by rachmaninov with a very distinctive ending figure of a descending scale for the second basses going down to a Bb1 and referencing that at some point would probably make other people go “oh. ha. nunc dimittis”, which is... really all i would hope for.

anyway. direction. because pathologic is a rare case where regietheater doesn’t just work but is actually probably actively necessary. i have made the joke before that mark is probably a director who didn’t get booed at bayreuth and let it go to his head, but mark-as-character vs. mark-as-director could be an interesting idea dramatically speaking. i don’t really know how you would do that other than what i mentioned above with him singing in a baroque style.

finally, i need a whole section on wagner, despite not being too into wagner. this is purely because i want to discuss the parallel between artemy destroying the polyhedron brunnhilde destroying valhalla at the end of the ring, and also my Pet Thought about the fisher king narrative as it relates/could relate to pathologic. the latter of these i was originally planning to cover in zum raum wird but unfortunately i have adhd and cannot follow a project through to its end. (and i’m gonna rewrite it eventually.) this is... really a bit more regietheater because one could spin the end of the ring into what i mentioned before about wond’rous machine. it’s progress supplanting tradition, albeit in a very dramatic way. it also works equally well for daniil and artemy’s endings (or at least for the diurnal ending).

the fisher king thing is a bit more complicated because there are a lot of places that it applies, not all of which i think it would make sense to bring it up. looking at it thematically though the inheritance of a barren land theme and the progress/tradition theme could (ironically) coexist pretty well so... pointing to either clara’s ending or the nocturnal ending but i think clara’s probably works better with the original theming. idk this post got away from me and now i can’t get it back again. enjoy.

[spiltscribbles]

I Carry Your Heart With Me

~Notes: Hiya loves! So I wrote this in dedication and thanks to the gorgeous @sophiegaladheon for donating to the amazing Fandom Trumps Hate event!!!! I moving this from AO3 just because of me wanting to just a couple things lol. You’re a remarkable person Sophie! Thank you for being so SO beyond kind and for being patient with me and I’m glad that you enjoyed this when you read it<3<3 It literally makes me emotional with joy!!

.-

Send ME A Prompt  |  A Reblog Is So SO fucking amazing!!!

.-

And as the bandaged knot was tightened,

  the two men smiled  into each other’s eyes 

—Hart crane

.-

There’s muffled laughter that reverberates through the door, drown out by the playlist Pez had queued up as soon as they all had clambered into Alex’s room to begin getting prepared for the wedding of the century. Henry can easily picture the way Beatrice is swiping a makeup brush across June’s cheekbones, and how Pez and Nora alternate between dancing on Alex’s bed to screaming about their hatred for most people; and it makes him grin. Their group is unconventional as hell, but they’ve all slotted into one another’s lives so seamlessly that there must be something like providence that brought them together and kept them as bound as they are. And Henry loves them all with every inch of himself, but he soon loses attention when his eyes flicker from the door to the mirror in front of him where Alex is still primping and preening.

The dim light of the loo attached to Alex’s room glitters in his brown eyes, softly caresses his features while  he sprits on his final coat of cologne before the night commences, a idl hand tousling his hair into an artful sort of muss, and Henry can’t take his eyes off of him from where he’s lounging against the wall behind him, flickering between appreciating the sight of  Alex’s miraculous arse in those black slacks,  and his gorgeous reflection that’s grinning at him knowingly; either way  Henry’s smiling to himself at the lovely sight of it.

Alex is beautiful through every layer, to his very core, and it makes Henry go weak at the knees, makes his head swim with the realization that he’s with him, that he chose Henry. Alex loves Henry, and that must mean something. Must mean that the frantic thudding to Henry’s heart— the adoration and love and need Henry’s always been crippled by— is mirrored in Alex’s own. Not to as drastic of a degree surely, but it’s there. And that’s enough, that’s all Henry had ever wanted ever since  that brilliant day at the Olympics that sealed his fate so unswervingly. A fate that was made only more permanent once they had fallen into one another at Philip’s wedding, and just kept falling in different ways in different countries in different intensities. A falling that never stopped, a falling that intwined them in ways that Henry could never fathom unwinding. A falling that locked them together in ways he was brought up reading about in feted love stories printed out in black and white, and what he got to see painted out in real life with how his mother’s eyes always twinkled that bit brighter when gazing at his father, and how Arthur’s smile in turn only ever got soft in that particular way when she was besides him. A love story Henry never thought he could have, never thought would be within his grips considering how bleeding gay he is. But he did. 

Henry found that picture of glittering color, that wave that can swallow him whole if he’s not careful, that strumming to his insides. He found it in how Alex laughed with his head thrown back when he's especially happy. Found it in the way Alex reads while mouthing the words, like his lips couldn’t stay still even in silence. Found it in the look on Alex’s face when Henry brings him over the edge in their bed. In the way Alex kissed him back underneath a thousand polluted city stars and amidst the vivid greens of the Whitehouse garden that January night. Found it in the way Alex’s touch to Henry’s skin always felt like a cocktail of excitement and wanting and comfort. 

Henry’s found his forever with Alex and there’s no doubt in any nook or crevasse of his insides that they wouldn’t spend the rest of their lives knotted into one another. But the thought does feel like a bit of a noose clamping  around his heart— painful and terrifying with its intensity— when it makes the left pocket of his suit drag that bit heavier. The pocket where Henry tucked in a small velvet box with the wedding band his father had worn till his final breaths, the one that Henry’s resized in Alex’s measurement and bought a matching pair for himself. And it’s making his insides go this strange tingling feeling, standing here in the confluence of all he and Alexander are and all they have been and all they will be.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to ask, like he hasn’t wanted to ask Alex every minute of every day ever since his mother had given him the piece of jewelry six months ago with a thin smile and watery eyes. When she had asked him to help make their family full once more.

God, Henry wants to ask him, wants to get to call Alex his partner in every delightful sense of the word. And he even thinks Alex’ll say yes, is almost positive of it. Even if they end up with a longish engagement. That doesn’t matter to Henry, it’s the promise of the whole ordeal, the promise of wanting to spend forever tangled into each other’s arms. But for all of Henry’s talent with a keyboard and his knack for syntax and his naturally developed mind that’s always been able to fold words into one another to read like a stream of thought. He’s not nearly as well versed with his tongue, with his spoken syllables pouring out his mouth in a coherent, tender sort of way the first time around. And Alex deserves that, deserves the whole damn experience of it. He deserves pink flamingos and double rainbows and a big band playing the first song they kissed to while they stood in the center of fairy lights with a crowd crooning and crowing in the background.

Alex deserves it all and Henry doesn’t know how to give him any of it, but God he wishes he could.

“We look like a pair of stallions if I do say so myself Henryson,” Alex says, pulling Henry out of his romantic daydreams, and pinning him with a smile as bright as the bloody sun.

Gingerly, Henry reaches his arm out and twirls a finger into one of his curls, tugging slightly. “I suppose you’re decent. Perhaps Zahra won’t skewer you on her big night.”

“Hmm,” Alex smirks, saddling closer up to him, hips brushing against hips as he locks each of his hands on either end of Henry and dimples up at him, affecting that mischievous air that Henry’s always been weak for. “And tell me sweetheart, would you protect me if she harmed one little  hair on my perfect head?”

Henry exhales amusedly from his nostril, bending his head forwards to press against Alex’s own, and dragging his thumb across his plump bottom lip. “Dunno, I reckon you might’ve deserved it. You do have a cheeky mouth after all love. And your hands are a bit of a hazard.”

Alex leers right then, glittering with intent. “I bet you’d like to see what my hands could do to you.” He counters, sliding his palm to the front of Henry’s already pitched trousers, and as much as he does crave the silent offer, he suddenly gets the awful thought of Alex finding the weighted pocket and the ring embedded there, and no. Absolutely not! Henry will not propose to the love of his life in the middle of a sodding bathroom while in the midst of getting a handy!

In a flash, Henry’s moved so Alex is crowded against the shut doorway— the music louder here and clouding Henry’s mind slightly as he dips down to crash his lips against Alex’s own. Admittedly, it’s not their smoothest snog, more like a cacophony of spit and lips and teeth, but it still makes his every nerve endings go ablaze and his toes curl and his ruddy heart pulse unevenly. And Henry reckons that it’s just a side effect of merely being in the presence of Alex like this, full of intent.

Unlatching himself from Alex, Henry moves to mouth against his neck, tasting his skin that’s a bit soured by the endless cologne but pleasant enough if only Henry knows that its Alex’s supple skin beneath his grazing lips. 

“Ooo,” Alex pants out breathily, canting closer eagerly, and hands fisted in Henry’s curls. “Yeah, mmm. I like this too.”

Henry smirks to himself, snorting at him as he slowly moves apart so that there foreheads are touching once more. “You reckon you can stay quiet for me?” He asks lowly, pressing a none too delicate finger down his clothed chest before landing at the front of his trousers, and begins to circle the hardness growing there.

“Why?” Alex asks, dark eyes glinting and lips quirked into a cocky sort of grin. “You think you’re good enough to make me loud Henryson?”

The growl caught in Henry’s throat takes them both off guard, but it also makes Alex beam with pure mirth, so Henry only kisses him once more— hard and rushed and greedy— before he twists him around without warning and begins to kiss across the nape of his neck and the breath of his broad shoulders, stopped intermittently by a lapping tongue or tender teeth— as Henry also palms Alex’s front, unbuttoning his suit jacket to tossing it to the countertop, quickly moving to unbutton Alex’s shirt too, so Henry can drag a hand through his very hard, very naked skin, nipples pebbling under his ministrations, before he gingerly— methodically— undoes Alex’s trousers, falling along with his pants to the ground and shackling his ankles in place.

“I reckon I can, but I also need you to be quiet about it lest the others get concerned over your mewling,” Henry whispers, lecherous against Alex’s ear as the hand not playing with Alex’s nipple, grips his now fully hardened dick, pumping only slightly as he thumbs at the leaking seam. 

“Humph, I don’t— Oh. I don’t mewl!” Alex grumbles out, trying to rock his hips to get some friction going but instead getting increasingly redder with frustration at Henry’s unyielding wrist.

“Oh? You don’t?” Henry asks with a smug sort of grin as he quickly squeezes harder around his shaft, twisting and pumping,  making the other boy toss back his head, turning it so that his small yelp is muffled by Henry’s neck.

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later tonight, but for now if you don’t mind putting your hands against the door while I grab the lube?”

Alex glares at him with an air of absolute irritation, but agrees anyhow, kissing him deftly before pressing his hands against the door, bent slightly so that his naked arse is out for show, clenching and relaxing in a sort of sensual rhythm with anticipation. And Henry smiles at the lovely sight of it as he shuffles through the drawer they had tucked away their essentials the first day of coming back to DC for the wedding. He plucks out the jar of lubricant from the mess of other tools and a few toys, idly thinks of popping out the plug to tease but decides against it. He wants to feel Alexander, wants to really be inside of him.

“You are such a slow fucker Henry!” Alex barks from over his shoulder, still poised for a good shagging.

Henry snickers, flicking Alex’s nose endearingly before shedding off his own jacket and undoing his trousers. “Oi, I’ll show you slow.” He goads, rubbing a good amount of the clear liquid into his palm before he takes his own cock in hand and strokes leisurely, reasons he could really just come from the sight of Alex waiting for him, perfect and precocious and panting. Though it’s not much of a punishing considering that Alex’s pupils only grow that bit larger and his cheeks flush in a familiar, wanton way.

Henry smirks. “You’re enjoying yourself?”

“You’re fucking hot,” Alex sputters. “How can I not?”

Henry bites down on his bottom lip so not to appear too pleased at the retort, but he also can’t stay away from Alex for much longer, and just saddles up behind him, cloaking his fingers up with the lube hurriedly.

“You ready love?”

“Have been ready you dickwad.” Alex snipes, shaking his arse again for good measure. Henry just grins,  bending down to nip at his shoulder in penance as a singular finger circles around Alex’s fluttering hole, before he just dips it into the entrance up to his first knuckle, making Alex moan. 

“Shh,” Henry reminds him, clapping a hand against his mouth pointedly. “I love hearing you dear, but I don’t think either of us want to suffer through the ribbing the others will dole out.”

Alex nods, face grimaced but still eager as he rocks backwards, making it so Henry gets up to his second knuckle before reasoning that it’s about time for a second finger. 

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” Henry breathes out, can’t prevent the wonder from seeping into his voice as he stretches Alex out, just barely pulling out for a third digit before Alex’s chest rumbles with a sound of exasperation. 

“Just go in already.”

“Oh? yeah? You think you can take it?”

Alex swallows down, hard, before nodding quickly. “Please Henry, you’ve been playing with me for like hours.”

“It’s barely been five minutes,” he says wryly, laughing when in turn Alex only sticks his tongue out fumingly. “Right, right, well I suppose we do have a prior engagement.”

“Yeah, course. We don’t wanna be late? Think about how gauche!”

Henry chuckles once more, rubbing a new coat of lubricant to his cock before lining up to Alex. “You’re just afraid that Zahra’ll have your head on a plate.”

“Please, sweetheart, for the love of God can we not bring other people into the conversation while you’re getting ready to fuck me?”

Henry concedes with an abashed quirk of the lips, takes Alex’s flagging erection in hand and strokes it once and sure before he slowly inches into him. And fuck, Henry will never not love the sensation of Alex, in all forms. On him, against him, inside of him, around him. Alex is the headiest sort of drug and Henry doesn’t think he’d ever survive a withdraw, that he can ever not crave him in all his variations of light.

Breathing in deeply, Henry finally bottoms out, practically collapses over Alex as he tries to re-acclimate  himself to the tight, throbbing heat of him. It’s so bloody miraculous. 

“H— Alex nearly whines, shaking himself a bit. “Move, will you?”

“Oh, right,” Henry musters back up his focus, sliding out of him only partially before slamming back inside, is always afraid of hurting Alex. But then Alex squeezes on the wrist where his hands are resting on either end of his hips, and squeezes, And that’s as clear of an instruction as he can give while staying hush, hush. So tossing all caution to the wind, Henry thrashes into him without abandon, pulling out nearly completely and then pounding back inside in a graceless, unforgiving pace, and it’s enough for Alex to leap on his toes, for him to squeeze his eyes shut while his head rolls back on Henry’s shoulder, for his hands to shake on their perch against the increasingly rattling door. And some idl part of Henry’s mind— the one that isn’t swallowed up entirely by Alex and all the sensations he sparks to life within Henry— prays to God above that their friends aren’t paying any mind to the shut bathroom entrance.

“Yes, yes, yes Henry.” Alex moans out,  losing his footing when Henry pushes in that bit harder, that bit deeper, targeting exactly that nest of nerves within him, and he quickens his pumping of Alex’s dick, feeling buoyed when Alex comes without warning. Hot, white liquid pulsing out of him in a pulsing stream, and making it so Alex can only lie boneless against the doorway. And it doesn’t take Henry long to follow, an arm slung tightly  around Alex’s waste as he thrashes forwards, lost in the entirety of him, kissing the nudges of his spine as he catches for his release, nudged on by the pulsing and slickness and it’s just once more before Henry is coming also,  hurriedly pulling out as his own spunk spills across the expanse of Alex’s back and arse and the tops of his thighs. Henry stares at the picture of it with reverent eyes as he leans against the sink, breathing heavily.

“God, we are good at that.”

“Tell me about it,” Alex says, face flushed an absolutely glowing as he rummages for a couple hand towels, and then seemingly thinking better as he glances at them, and then his and Henry’s messy states.

“Second shower?”

Henry nods, “Think we ought to.”

“Right, well you wash me first because I think i’ll need like another ten minutes before I can move any extremities.”

Henry laughs and tugs him close for a quick kiss. God he loves him so much.

.-

The grandiose, Willard ballroom is dressed in ornate decorations and filled with sharply clad folks who are some of the top tear heads of Western politics, though for the most part they’re drown out by the familiar faces of Shaan’s family, and even more that either share Zahra’s nose or the shape of her eyes. It’s beautiful in its discrete, demure nature and it makes Henry’s heart flutter. He only wishes he had a decent sodding poker face because right then Beatrice, in all her smug glory, saddles up to him, and leers.

“You thinking about that wedding journal you had as a lad.”

Henry glares, fuming. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Your theme was red with golden accents wasn’t it?”

“Did I ever tell you that you were adopted.”

“You even had all these cute little sample cards for the invitations.”

“We found you in an alien species of barmy bints.” Henry continues to growl.

Beatrice laughs raucously, tossing back her chestnut curls and pinching his cheek like the doting older sister she’s always been. “You’re precious when you get all cross.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you really don’t,” she says loftily. “Now c’mon, Alex and Nora are trying to steal some flowers from the bouquet before Zahra notices, and we’re s’pose to be distracting the newly weds.”

Henry rolls his eyes long sufferingly. “We’re dating absolute lunatics, you do know that, right?”

Beatrice smiles— resigned— and hooks her arm through Henry’s own. “I know, we’re truly a mess.”

.-

If there was ever the picture of a glowing bride— beautiful and bright and breathtaking— Zahra would be the epitome of it. Her curls are pulled back into an elegant bun and her lovely features are only accentuated by the makeup rather than obscured by it, and she hasn’t let loose of Shaan’s hand for the whole reception. It brings a pang to Henry’s heart, not envy per se, but longing. Longing for what they have, for the pure, unadulterated simplicity of it. And it’s only settled when he thinks of Alex, knows that he has that precise kind of relationship with him. And God, he’s never wanted to show it off more.

“You guys having fun,” Shaan asks, pecking a kiss to Beatrice’s cheek and slinging an arm around Henry’s shoulder.

“’s a beautiful night,” Henry tells them, his voice vibrant and his heart full.

“Thank you sweets,” Zahra preens, brushing back the curls from his forehead and eyeing him speculatively when her fingers come back wet.

“Erm— Don’t ask?”

Zahra looks only mildly alarmed but fully understanding, humor twinkling in her dark eyes. “Ah, well then, speaking of which. You two mind informing your better halves that they aren’t slick, and they’re only lucky I put a decoy in the place of the real bouquet instead of actually punishing them.”

Laughter bubbles out of the foursome and Henry isn’t at all surprised that she’s always two steps ahead.

“Bloody hell, I told those dunces that they could never pull one over on you!” Beatrice groans, arms crossed and weight slung to her left hip. “But do they listen? No of course not.”

“We should probably tell them that they need to wait in line for the bouquet toss like the rest of us, yeah?” Henry asks her, smiling pleasantly at a new couple that’s meandered over to shake hands with the bride and groom.

“Oh no, let them deal with it on their own, we, my lovely little brother, will be drinking to forget.”

“How very British of us.” Henry snorts wryly. 

“Never said I wasn’t predictable,” she retorts, grabbing his wrist and carting him off to the open bar.

.-

It’s an hour later that finds a very disgruntled looking Alex saddling up to Henry with a very prominent frown, his hair covered with wayward petals that Pez has been tossing around without abandon for practically the entirety of the night. The venue’s dwindled down so that it’s only Zahra’s and Shaan’s nearest and dearest that are left. From the table’s he’s sat at Henry can see his mother holding a conversation with Luna and Leo that’s filled with laughter, and he sees June with her father trying to set up a new playlist to the speakers once the live performers had left. He can also spot Ellen and Zahra giggling like school girls while Shaan nods along, and kisses his now wife’s hand intermittently between the smiles he tosses Nora and Beatrice who are starting a ridiculous dance with a few others to the tune of the Peter Gabriel song playing out. 

It feels like the room has been  bathed in a sort of serenity that makes something warm and remarkable unfurl in Henry’s gut. An ambiance of love and nurture cradling them all together.

“You could’ve told us it was a ploy you dick.” Alex harrumphs for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes.

“You should’ve known yourself,” Henry toots, a little too busy musing on how Alex’s long lashes kiss the tops of his cheekbones every time he blinks and how beautiful he looks in the moonlight shimmering through the wide partitions.

“How did she make it so they stung! That’s all I ask you!”

Henry smiles indulgently, moves forwards to kiss the hinge of Alex’s jaw to console him. “She’s a evil genius love, don’t let it upset you.”

Alex sniffs, still sulking but already beginning to relax his muscles. “Yeah, whatever, at least Pez caught it instead some random fuck.”

“He is happy with himself, it’s cute. Innit?” Henry says, flickering his eyes over to where his best friend's dragging a giggling June off to the dance floor.

“Mmm, yeah.” Alex says, tucking closer to Henry’s side. “Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

Henry pulls back, pinning him with a one eyed squint. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Alex shuffles in his seat, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast. “The whole thing. Like it makes you think of the future and all of that crap.”

Henry swallows down the lump in his throat, feeling suddenly dazed. “Yeah, yeah it does.”

Alex looks up, smiling thinly. “So what? You want something like this? With the flowers and music and you in a white dress.”

Henry glares now, flicking Alex’s nose. “Oi, who said I’m the one in the dress?”

“Well sweetheart, you do have the legs for it,” Alex croons smugly, kissing the corner of Henry’s mouth tenderly and laughing when Henry begins to prod at his side.

“You’re an arse.”

“But you still do,” Alex asks. “Think about it I mean?”

Henry breathes out, caressing Alex’s cheek to try and infuse all the love and adoration he feels for him in that single touch. “I think about it every bloody day Alexander, I want you for forever.”

Alex’s shy grin transforms to it’s ordinary, megawatt brilliance, and he kisses him right on the mouth with fervor. “God I love you.”

The knot in Henry’s chest loosens, and it suddenly feels like he can breathe again, like the love he feels for Alexander isn’t drowning him with its intensity but coaxing him into wakefulness, into feeling alive for the first time in a long time. 

“I’ve got a ring,” he admits, speaking against Alex’s lips, and tugging him closer.

Alex pulls back a bit, brows hiked and gaze alight. “Oh yeah?”

“yeah, yeah I do. But I reckon if I propose to you in the middle of Zahra’s wedding she’d poach my head to a stake.”

Alex snorts. “You’re not wrong. But lucky us we’ve got a whole hotel filled with empty rooms.” 

Alex smirks wickedly and Henry feels his insides go abuzz. “Let’s go.”

And when Alex twines their fingers together, pulling him up and kissing him softly before they can rent out a room, Henry suddenly feels so very light.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Last Christmas

AN: Listening to Christmas songs in September is totally normal, right? I was inspired by a couple of songs and I’m procrastinating even though I should really study for some upcoming exams but I had to finish this first. Please enjoy this angsty fluff (is that even a thing?) with one of our favorite Hockey Hunks™.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: There might be a swear word or two and one mention of sex but that’s it

My other writing can be found here

For the first time since the move you finally felt at home and not out of place. To anyone it might only be a regular Wednesday but to you it was more than that. Today marked the day you’d finally managed to clear out the last few boxes, ridding yourself of the only remaining evidence that proved you were alone in a new city, a new country.

You wouldn’t stay alone for long though, your new job was set to start on Monday and you’d always made friends fairly fast so you weren’t worried in the slightest, instead enjoying the quiet that was your apartment for now.

With Christmas less than a month away you’d finally managed to decorate the apartment accordingly and to say you were proud would be an understatement. Picking out a Christmas tree by yourself had been an adult awakening, something you’d always dreamt about. 

When you were younger you had imagined a certain someone with you so you could decorate side by side but that hadn’t been an option in years. Although with the move it could be, but you quickly pushed that thought out of your head.

Locating the box with the decorations - some you’d stolen from home - had taken quite a while but as you held the hand-painted angel that had once belonged to your great-grandmother in your hands all trouble was forgotten. You’d have to climb on a stool or something to get it on top of the tree but for now you carefully set it aside, taking a look at your surroundings instead. 

The string lights made your apartment glow in warm light that only added to the appeal of the city lights shining in through the big windows. The new job had come with a very attractive signing bonus and while the place wasn’t huge, the modern finishes had made you fall in love instantly.

You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed because you’d been so immersed in decorating and cleaning but the sun had long set and your supper had been quite a while ago. The TV was still on from when you’d turned it on for some background noise, not really paying attention but instead focusing on humming along to your Christmas playlist.

You put on some water and quickly changed into a pair of comfortable leggings and your favorite sweatshirt from your time at Dalhousie University so you could spend the rest of your evening cuddled up on the couch with a mug of tea and continue the series you’d started to binge watch a couple of weeks ago. You’d only just pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down your body when you heard your doorbell ring.

Who would show up at your apartment unannounced at this time?

You quickly made your way back into the living space and over to the door so you could check the peep-hole, your heart skipping a beat once you realized who was on the other side of the door. For a second you contemplated simply not opening, but while you were many things in your life, a coward wasn’t one of them. 

You knew he could tell that you were home from the music still playing over the speakers and the lights probably escaping your apartment through the slit below the door so you didn’t hesitate long before unlocking the door with shaky hands and swinging it open.

Seeing him again, leaning against the wall opposite your apartment door, was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water at your face. As soon as he realized that you’d actually opened the door he practically jumped from his spot and took two big steps until he was standing a lot closer to you. 

You looked up at him, really looked up at him and with him standing there, looking so much like the Pierre you knew but so differently at the same time you felt yourself being catapulted to the day that changed your life all these years ago.

NHL Entry Draft Day back in 2016.

You weren’t religious by any means and you only ever went to church on Christmas out of a feeling of obligation towards your parents but God had you prayed for Pierre to stay close to you. It hadn’t been fair to him, you were well aware of that but for one day you allowed yourself to be selfish. You knew that he was living his dream, finally getting to play in the NHL like he’d always said he would but you were also thinking about your dreams. Dreams that involved him by your side.

Perhaps you were to blame for this mess. It was you who had fallen for the funny hockey player almost two years ago after all, knowing full well that he had big dreams that didn’t really mesh well with yours to go to university in Halifax, a place your family had gone to for ages.

You’d secretly hoped that perhaps Ottawa or Montreal would select him, even if he deserved to be picked long before it was their turn. But at least he’d be at least somewhat close to you then. When he’d been picked third by Columbus you’d been so shocked that you barely remembered kissing him on live television. You’d watched him get on that stage and put on the jersey but instead of crying happy tears at the sight of his dream coming true, you were crying because you knew that this was most likely the beginning of the end of your relationship. 

There’d be well over 2.000 kilometers between the two of you sometime soon and although you’d prepared yourself for this for weeks it still hurt more than you could ever imagine. But you still smiled at him all these hours later when you finally got to see him again, telling him how incredibly proud you were.

You tried your best to enjoy that summer, knowing full well that it might be your last one with him. With fall approaching he helped you move your stuff to Halifax while preparing for his own departure to Columbus. 

A departure that didn’t come though, because he hadn’t made the roster for the 2016-2017 season and had instead been sent back to play in Sydney, something that had devastated him.

To say that it was hard would put it mildly. You were over four hours away from him and your home and with your new life picking up keeping in touch kept getting more and more difficult. With his travels for the team and your classes you barely saw each other, a series of missed calls and late responses really the only thing that connected you to him. Christmas was the first time you’d seen him in three weeks but you still made the best of it, spending time with him every day and for a little while things were like they used to be.

When he told you that he’d been traded to Boisbriand afterwards you knew that this was it. Pierre had known as well, the defeated look in his eyes mirroring your own and giving him away. 

So you’d said your goodbyes, wanting to end things on a good note instead of going through another string of ‘Sorry I couldn’t pick up the phone earlier but call me back when you get this’ and constantly feeling left out. You’d cried, as did Pierre when you hugged him one last time, him desperately wiping your tears away and pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaving.

He’d ruined hockey for you then, the sport you once loved and spent so much time watching. No more time spent at the rink cuddled under your blanket and gossiping with the other girlfriends but you didn’t miss it as much as you missed him. 

You couldn’t even bear to watch him on TV so you’d missed when he scored his first NHL goal during his very first game in the league and all the other ones that followed. It was only when the Blue Jackets had their playoff run earlier this year that you’d finally managed to look at his face on your screen, over two years after you’d last seen him in person.

But now he was here, standing in front of you again.

“I-“, he began before stopping himself, rubbing his hand over his face before dropping it back down to his side and continuing, “I’m sorry for just barging in like this but my mom told me you moved here and I didn’t see it until after the game but I just had to come see for myself. Apparently our families still talk..”

You finally allowed yourself to properly looking at him, trailing your eyes over the features that were once so familiar. He’d grown a bit since you’d last seen him, not just in height but he was also a lot bulkier and more muscular than he used to be, filling out the suit jacket that sat snugly around his shoulders. He must have come straight from the game, hair still a bit wet and curlier than ever, a black pea coat folded over his arm and a duffel bag slung around his torso. You felt a bit out of place in your comfortable clothes compared to his suit that was probably designer but then you scolded yourself because this was Pierre and he’d seen you a lot worse.

“Yeah I know. I ran into your mom this summer when she was in our kitchen for a wine night they apparently have regularly.” You didn’t tell him how hard it had been to not ask about how he was doing and instead make bland small talk before you could finally disappear to your old room.

How could your parents not be friends anymore after your mothers had once joked about wanting a wine bar exclusively for them at your wedding? You didn’t blame your mom for telling his mother either, you knew that she only had good intentions and she’d always wanted the two of you to get back together.

In fact you weren’t completely innocent in the situation either. It was you who had applied for a position in Columbus after graduating this year after all, thoughts of what could be in the back of your mind even if you were adamant about denying it.

“You look good Y/N. I didn’t think it was possible but you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.”

You were about to remind him that the last time he’d seen you your eyes had been all red and puffy from crying – which was anything but beautiful – but before you could even get one word out the vintage kettle you had put on the stove to make tea let out its loud screeching noise, indicating that the water was done. You weren’t about to be rude and just Leave Pierre in the hallway just like that so without a second thought you invited him inside before turning around to take the kettle off the stove.

“Do you want some tea as well?”, you asked on a whim, not really knowing what else to do with the stranger that wasn’t really a stranger standing in the middle of your living room. He’d taken his shoes off by the door, apparently still remembering how you much you hated it when people wore shoes indoors and you watched him carefully drape his coat over the back of a chair.

“Sure, thanks.”

You took out a second mug and carefully poured the tea over the tea bags, the scent soon filling the apartment. It was the same tea you always drank during the winter months, ever since you were a little kid. Pierre grabbed the second mug off the counter from next to you and quickly took a peak at the label before giving you a knowing smile. You’d made that tea for the both of you so many times that this felt almost normal, even if your current situation was anything but.

“I’m sorry that you guys lost tonight”, you said to fill the silence that was now falling over the apartment. He looked over with a surprised look, raising his eyebrows.

“You watched the game?”

“Not all of it. I was busy decorating and doing other stuff around the apartment but I turned it on and checked the score from time to time”, you admitted sheepishly, raising the mug to your face in pretense of blowing to battle the boiling hot water but actually hiding away from his attentive stare. He’d looked at you all kinds of ways over your years with him but you had never been nervous because of it, except for that one night with him where he’d seen you naked for the first time and you’d lost your virginities to each other.

Thinking about sex with him wasn’t helping your cause either though because while the first few times had been a little awkward but still fun, the two of you quickly improved and the images of him above you or his head between your legs were only turning your cheeks even more red.

He seemed to drop the subject, thankfully, and instead moved over towards the Christmas tree, admiring your work. You slowly followed him, mug closely clutched to your chest and sat down on the sofa, admiring the way he looked in your apartment instead. The time apart had treated him well and while it was a bit weird to see him with a beard outside of playoffs there was no denying that he looked better than ever.

“I see you still like to live in an environment that resembles hell temperature wise”, he chuckled before he put down his own mug on the couch table and shrugged off his suit jacket. You tried your best not to stare as he popped open the first two bottoms of his shirt before moving on to roll up his sleeves while sitting down a respectable distance away but you were unsuccessful. For the first time you saw his tattoos, as his skin had been innocent and bare up until your breakup but you couldn’t ignore how good he looked with them. Your hands were itching to trace the patterns and because you didn’t entirely trust yourself to be able to control yourself you sat on them to avoid any embarrassment.

You hadn’t even realized that your Christmas playlist had continued playing over the speakers until the familiar opening tunes of “Last Christmas” filled the apartment. You quickly jumped up, reaching for your phone so you could stop the music from playing. It reminded you too much of the last Christmas you’d had with Pierre, now almost three years ago. You’d given him your heart and while he hadn’t exactly given it away he’d still broken it when he’d left.

When you turned back around you noticed the slight blush that painted his cheeks, he’d apparently come to the same realization as you. For a moment the silence was uncomfortable and you were reminded of the time right before the breakup when you didn’t know what to say or do around him, always walking on eggshells for fear of losing him. You’d lost him either way but that was beside the point.

Pierre cleared his throat before speaking up, ripping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Y/N I- I have to ask. Why are you here?”

You knew that you should just be honest and tell him that you were in a way here because of him but you weren’t ready to take that kind of leap just yet. You hadn’t kept up with his personal life for fear of finding something you couldn’t bear and for all you knew he could have a girlfriend right now.

“Well why are you?”, you simply responded instead, leaning back on the couch so you could properly gauge his reaction. You weren’t the one who had knocked on his door late at night.

“Fair enough, I guess”, he huffed before running his hand over his face in the way that had once been so familiar to you.

“When I read that text from my mom, telling me that you lived in Columbus now – that you weren’t thousands of kilometers away anymore I just had to see you. I called my mom to ask if she had your address and you have no idea how smug she sounded when she said she’d text it to me.”

You chuckled at his exasperated expression, knowing full well how his mother could be but stayed quiet to let him continue.

“The team knows about you as well and if I even told you half the shit I had to listen to when I practically sprinted out of the locker room you wouldn’t believe me.”

This made you laugh out loud and when you saw him smile at you fondly your heart skipped a beat for the second time that night.

“What I’m actually trying to say – but failing miserably at – is that I never really got over you and seeing you know only confirmed that. I can’t believe I let you go all these years ago, I was an idiot for thinking I could do it without you because I was absolutely miserable after leaving you”, he finished and you hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying until he reached up to gently wipe your tears away.

“Look I know that we can’t just continue like nothing happened but please bébé, please give me a second chance. I won’t leave you again, I promise.” The fact that he’d used the pet name he’d given you when you first started dating was all it took for you to leap towards him. He wrapped his arms around you as well, creating that perfect cocoon of Pierre that you’d missed so much. When he kissed your forehead this time you couldn’t feel your heart breaking, instead the warmth that flooded your body only glued all those pieces back together.

You knew that there was still a chance that he’d get traded again and that because of his job he’d have to spend quite some time on the road but you’d been miserable after he’d left as well. At least this time you’d know that he’d always come back for you.

“I’m so glad that our mothers love their wine nights and gossip, otherwise you never would’ve knocked at my door and I never would’ve gotten you back.”

“So we’re really doing this? We’re trying again?”, he asked, pulling you back at arm’s length so he could properly take a look at you. You nodded, not being able to stop the big smile spreading on your face.

“Would it be completely out of place if I kissed you right now?”

“Not at all”, you responded before crawling closer towards him until you straddled his lap. His hands reached up to cup your face, thumbs wiping the last of your tears away – happy tears this time – and then he finally pulled you in for a kiss.

Nothing felt more like coming home than kissing Pierre.

The way his lips moved against yours was so familiar that you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss, reaching up for his shoulders so you could ground yourself in him while simultaneously getting lost in the way his body felt against yours. He buried his hands in your hair and his beard was scratching your skin but you didn’t care, instead letting him pull you closer and deepening the kiss until the only thought you could form was IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoustill.

Eventually you had to pull away though, both of you panting at the lack of air and the closeness of your bodies. It had been so long since you’d last felt his breath fan across your face like this, seen the look in his eyes as he looked at you with absolute wonder but it was as if nothing had changed, the two of you easily picking up where you left off.

“You know that our moms are gonna take credit for that, right? We’re never gonna hear the end of it”, he suddenly groaned and you giggled at his exasperated tone.

“I can live with that as long as it means that I get to have you with me again.”

He pulled you in for another sweet kiss before letting you go again, smiling up at you. You watched his gaze shift to something behind you, twisting your body in his lap so you could see what had caught his attention.

“Is that the Y/L/N Christmas angel? Did you steal it?” He stood up with you still in his lap, slowly putting you down before walking over to where you’d set the decoration earlier.

“It is but I didn’t steal it. Mom gave it to me so I’d have a piece of home with me. I’m not tall enough to put it on the top though and I haven’t gotten around to finding something to climb yet.”

“Need some help with putting it up? Here’s another piece of home ready to be climbed”, Pierre said, extending his arms to the sides and taking a step backwards so he was standing by the tree, angel still in one hand. You shook your head at him while laughing but you still moved closer, ready to climb him like a tree like you’d done hundreds of times before.

Still laughing you jumped on his back and he handed you the angel before wrapping his arms around your legs to support you. With combined forces you were able to complete the tree and Pierre let you down so you could both properly admire your work. 

Your dream had come true after all. 

You felt him move away from you before he was standing right behind you again, the famous tune of Wham! playing again over the speakers. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and you placed your hands on his forearms, slowly tracing your fingers over the black ink under his skin.

“You’re mon ange Y/N, you know that right? My angel. My someone special.”

Standing on your tippy toes you placed a soft kiss on his jaw before leaning your head back against him, not really knowing how to put your feelings in words right now but you knew he understood by the way he squeezed you tightly, resting his head on top of yours.

This year you’d given your heart to someone truly special.. again.

Feedback is always appreciated 🥰🥰

[childrenofthenightt]

only the black rose (chapter 4)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: bordering on nsfw, a little fluff, and yet another pretentious description of a zep song :)

words: 3.9k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: i blushed countless times writing this chapter. also things are heating up folks!!! not beta’d as always! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

playlist

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

----------

The dressing room of the Rotterdam Ahoy was certainly not a palace of luxury, with its plush navy couches and line of chairs pushed against the wall, next to a long folding table packed tight with refreshments. A full-length mirror sits in the corner, casting refractions of faint yellow light onto the off-white brick walls. John Bonham lounges on the loveseat, drumming out an intricate rhythm on his knees, brown eyes far away as he stares off into the distance. John Paul Jones perches on the chair nearest to the door, strumming a tune reminiscent of rockabilly on a beautiful mandolin, nodding his head to keep the beat.

Looking up, Jonesy spots Jimmy across from him, occupying the couch next to Bonzo. Jimmy is tuning up his acoustic guitar, no doubt the precious gift he had received just days before. Every so often, Jimmy would pause in his focused tuning to shift in his seat with a wince, stretching out, before finally resuming.

“You okay, Pagey?”

“...Hm?” Jimmy grunts out, concentration stolen completely by the beautiful guitar in his hands. Heavenly notes swirling around the small room, mixing seamlessly with the sharp harmonies of the mandolin. Jimmy did always preach about unity, after all.

“Are you okay? You keep wincing, and you’ve shifted in your seat about 20 times in the past two minutes.”

“My back is a little sore, I must have slept in an odd position. Nothing serious.” This is punctuated by a crackle as Jimmy stretches once more.

“Well, you did have a nice pillow though, didn’t you?”

“Jonesy—”

“I hope you know that Robert has pictures, Jim.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Bonzo chuckles, popping the P, and smirking at the man across from him, who has finally stopped plucking the strings of the guitar. Jimmy wrings his hands together, stopping only to thumb at his nose. “No need to be nervous, Page. I’m sure he’ll only show a couple of them at the wedding, which reminds me. We need to know her ring preferences. Stones are important to girls, or something.”

“He took more than one? Wait… Rings? We’re not… I’ve known her for like, 5 days! Marriage? She doesn’t even like me like—”

“Who’s getting married?” Layla questions, voice floating through the open door as she walks in, arm in arm with Robert, who is sporting a cheshire grin. The blond sends a subtle wink at Jimmy, strolling further into the room.

“Layla, quick question.”

“Oh no. Should I be scared?”

“Only a little bit.” Jonesy cuts in, chuckling at the helpless look on Jimmy’s face.

“Bonzo, I-I really don’t think—”

“Pagey, shush,” Bonzo interrupts the guitarist, who splutters, dumbfounded at the exchange taking place. He moves to stop Bonzo from speaking, but Bonzo shoves him back onto the couch behind him, Jimmy landing with a huff. “Now, birdie… What is your favourite gemstone?”

“Garnet. Do I want to know what this is about?”

“Probably not.”

“Great. Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to go find Peter, he wanted to talk to me about something,” Layla drawls, a smile just evident in the slight curl of her lips, painted a pretty pink in the artificial light of the room. She catches Jimmy staring her way, and her smile grows wider, taking in the stunned expression on his features.  “I just thought it would be a good idea to rescue Robert from the horde of groupies that had him surrounded first.”

“Very smart. It would be rather hard to play without our frontman. Unless… Bonzo, how quickly can we get Coverdale in here?”

“Jonesy, I’m hurt. You know my voice is better than his.”

“Every single day, I am astounded at how humble you are, Robert. Truly brings a tear to my eye.” Layla laughs, turning towards the door, when a soft voice pipes up from behind her, paired with the sound of footsteps, muffled by the carpet under their feet.

“Mind if I join you, petal?”

A soft smile graces the woman’s lips at the sound of Jimmy’s dulcet voice, and she turns around to face him. Gazing up at him almost shyly, she nods, and they walk out together, Jimmy’s arm comforting around the woman’s shoulders. As they exit the dressing room, Robert pokes his head out, a mischievous smile growing slowly.

“Use protection, you two. Can’t have any little Page-Porters running around the venue.” Before the duo could retort, Robert retreats into the dressing room once more, his golden curls and the sound of his cackle following. Embarrassment colouring his face, Jimmy releases his hold on Layla, but is stopped by a hand at his wrist. Forest green and golden brown meet once more as she nods lightly. Jimmy, confident that Layla is comfortable with his touch, wraps his arm around her shoulders once more, as they walk through the venue in search of Peter Grant.

“For a man of his stature, I hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to find him.” Jimmy laughs, which causes Layla to look at the man. His laugh may just be one of her favourite sounds, she thinks. Jimmy, sensing Layla’s eyes on him, looks down at the woman, whose head dips shyly, so different from the sassy exterior she lets people see. He lets his gaze linger, taking in the unruly chestnut ringlets that frame her tanned face perfectly. Her brown eyes hold unimaginable depths, and he is frightened by how often he gets lost in them. Her lips, the colour of lovely flowers in the bright morning light, are bitten cherry red out of nerves. Layla looks up at him then, and instead of shying away, this time he holds her gaze.

“Jim, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course petal. Ask away.”

“I’m just… a little curious,” Layla says, smiling as she stares right back, biting her lip for an entirely different reason now. “Why exactly do you call me petal?”

“Because I can make you blush the colour of a rose in bloom.”

“...That was so cheesy. I hope you know that, Jimmy,” Layla says, a giddy laugh bubbling out past her lips. “You know, I need a nickname for you now, so we’re even.”

“Oh, is that right, petal?”

“It is, actually. How about… angel? I mean, just look at that face.”

Jimmy’s breath hitches, audible even through the bustle of pre-show preparations. His free hand moves up to scratch at his neck once more, a nervous tick, of which he has many, that Layla is now accustomed to. Recovering quickly, Jimmy smirks, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Actually, petal, I think I might be a devil in disguise, but that’s something for you to figure out.”

“Right, because a devil would definitely check up on me, and help me when I was drunk out of my mind, and make me morning coffee exactly the way I like it.”

Knowing he’s been beat, Jimmy’s gaze falls to his feet, suddenly very interested in a particularly deep scuff mark. Layla chances a look at the man, and smiles softly at his reaction. Stepping in front of him, she puts a hand to his shoulder, wiping off imaginary dust from his shirt. His eyes follow her fingers, which finally land on his chin, lifting his head to face her. Layla moves in closer, tucking the hair falling into his face behind his ear.

“I appreciate your help trying to find Peter, but you have a show to get ready for, don’t you, angel?”

“I—”

He is interrupted by the whisper of soft lips brushing his cheek, and the fading scent of the woman’s perfume as she slips past him.

“Damn, she’s good…”

----------

Maneuvering through the maze-like hallways of the arena, Layla finally spots Peter, who is in deep conversation with a stage-hand, back turned to her. Moving closer, she can hear snippets of conversation detailing stage lights and lasers, and she wonders just what she had gotten into. Peter, hearing the padding of Layla’s footsteps approaching, finally turns around, grinning the moment he sees her.

“Layla! I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Peter! In fact, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Layla exclaims, falling into step with Peter as they trek through the long hallways once more. “You had said you wanted to talk to me earlier?”

“Right, yes. You had expressed interest in helping out in the wings during the tour,”  Peter says, leading the woman with a paternal hand at the small of her back, ensuring she doesn't get lost once again. “But I was wondering if you had wanted to maybe experience this show in the audience? I only ask, because the experience is much different from the crowd, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

“I would love to, Peter, but if you do need help…”

“Go have fun, dear. A front-row view at a Led Zeppelin show doesn’t come very often, after all.”

“Thank you so much, Peter!”

“It’s my pleasure, Layla. Now, we’ll be on in about 30 minutes, so we better get you to your seats sooner rather than later.”

Peter riffles through the pockets of his blazer and produces a rectangular piece of paper, no doubt the tickets themselves. Layla is led to an usher, and Peter, with a wink and a smile, turns on his heel, walking away, no doubt to check on his boys. The usher leads her onto the floor, right in front of the stage. Layla thanks them, a gleaming smile making her glow.

The venue is already packed to the brim, and with a glance behind her, Layla spots an ocean of faces, eyes glued to the stage in anticipation. At the sight of this, Layla can’t help but reciprocate these feelings.

“Hell,” Layla mutters under her breath, shaking her head lightly. “I’ve seen them play in the studio… How much better could it get than that?”

In the relative darkness of the large room, she can see shadows moving out from the stage wings, the hollers of the crowd growing deafening.

Here we go.

A booming voice erupts out from the speakers scattered around the stage.  Layla can’t help but join in, letting out some cheers of her own, wide smile nearly splitting her cheeks.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Led Zeppelin!”

A soft click cuts through the sea of white noise like a knife, and the stage is illuminated by a giant sign reading, ‘Led Zeppelin’ in bold, lit letters, which ignites the flame of excitement once more. A smug look passes between them and the band starts to play, catching the audience off guard. Bonzo’s sharp drumming serves as a count-in for Jimmy and Jonesy, their combined excellence creating a solid wall of pure sound, only penetrated by Robert’s masterful wails. Jimmy, gleaming in a suit accented with shining panels of silver, looks absolutely decadent, enraptured by the music he is playing. The chorus sounds, echoing slightly, across the great sea of faces, who are relentless in their fiery adrenaline. Robert glides across the stage, singing as if the crowd were snakes and he was a charmer, entrancing them with his stage presence and golden voice.

“It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely... time.”

Finally, the last notes fizzle out, Jimmy improvising a run under the blanket of unity courtesy of the rhythm section, and the crowd’s screams grow thunderous, a reward for the incredible first song. This trend remained throughout the entirety of the concert, every song fueling the fire.

Layla is completely in awe, eyes blinking rapidly in hopes of comprehending exactly what she had just witnessed. She had known exactly how talented every one of them was, she had seen it just days ago when they had played in the studio, but what she hadn't anticipated, was just how much the stage lights and the crowd brought them to life. They looked holy, faces painted with pure concentration and confidence. Throughout the show, she couldn't help but hang on to Jimmy’s every move. Up there on stage, bliss apparent in the uptick of his rosy lips and eyes full of ecstasy, he was hypnotising, beautiful strong fingers tickling the fretboard in hopes of squeezing ethereal notes from it. The woman wonders what it would be like; for the guitarist to touch her like that. To make her whimper like the guitar he manipulates every night. She wonders what it would be like to touch unmarked, alabaster skin, to bury her fingers in jet black hair as perfect, pink lips rock her world. The touch of callused fingers making her skin tingle and hum and burn in euphoria.

“Layla, you’re going to start bleeding if you keep biting your lip like that. Are you alright, my dear?”

Looking up abruptly, Layla is met by the whiskered face of Peter Grant, smiling softly as he looks down at her. She shakes her head to banish the illicit thoughts, curls flying wildly about her head.

“I’m… Peter, that was incredible!”

“Why don't we sneak you backstage so you can tell the boys what you think?” Peter says, smirking at the astonished face of the young woman in front of him. “They've been asking about you ever since they got off stage.”

“Lead the way!”

The two make their way to the dressing rooms, idle chat between Layla and Peter the soundtrack. Walking through the dressing room doors, she sees the boys facing away from her, celebrating a job well done. Robert is reclined on the couch, two beautiful blondes on each side getting his full attention. Bonzo and Jonesy are chatting in the corner of the room, sipping on bottles of whatever liquor they could find. Jimmy stands alongside them, laughing softly, dimples rising on his cheeks. In the harsh light of the dressing room, the sweat dripping from Jimmy’s body makes him glow, and Layla can’t help but stare.

“Boys, it seems we have a guest.”

Four pairs of eyes lock on her, and she smiles winningly, the beginnings of a giggle bubbling up her throat.

“Excuse me, ladies,” says Robert, as he extricates himself from the arms of the blondes, smiling apologetically. “But I really must greet the little dove.”

Immediately, arms surrounding the young woman, and as bad as the boys smelled, impressively sweaty after such a wonderful show, she was too excited to care. Pulling back finally, she gives her friends a megawatt smile.

“Guys, that was… That was truly amazing! I don’t know how you did it,” exclaims Layla, hands flying every which way to prove her point. “But you completely exceeded my expectations! I thought your little studio performance was excellent, but… This!”

“Wow, Layla. You’ve got such a way with words.” Jonesy jokes, putting an arm around the woman, leading her into the post-performance chaos. Bonzo pours her a shot glass full of something unidentifiable, vodka perhaps, and Layla tips it back quickly. Liquid courage firmly in place, she catches Jimmy’s eye. Wrestling out of Jonesy’s arms, Layla struts over to the raven-haired man and guides him to the corner of the room, a small hand slipping into his.

“Petal—”

“Shush!  Jim, that performance was… I don’t know what to say! Everyone had a great show, of course, but your guitar,” Layla rambles, speaking so quickly that the guitarist can barely hang on to a word the woman is saying. “... And Stairway. Oh my god, I don’t think I looked away once during the whole song! And—”

“Layla—”

“... Communication Breakdown ended way too soon, but the way you moved your fingers so quickly across the fretboard. I just don’t even—”

“Petal, please calm—”

This time, Jimmy isn’t interrupted by the ranting woman, but rather a set of slightly chapped lips on his, and a soft hand cradling his cheek, the other a warm weight on his shoulder. Layla is… kissing him. As soon as he makes this discovery, the lips against his turn down into a slight frown, and begin to pull away. Frantic at the thought of Layla pulling back, Jimmy brings a hand to her face, the other threading through her unruly curls to land at the back of her head. Deepening the chaste kiss, Jimmy’s eyes close. If he had been less preoccupied, he would have seen Bonzo, phone in hand, calling home in hopes of talking to his lovely wife. He would have seen Jonesy, laughing and pressing ever-closer to a beautiful brunette, a hand pushing back her long wavy locks. He would have seen Robert walking closer with a smirk set on his lips.

Jimmy finally pulls away, staring deep into Layla’s chestnut eyes, glazed over slightly as she blinks back at him, lips a luscious red from the heated kiss. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, but another voice beats him to the punch.

“Goodness, little dove, if I knew you were handing out kisses like that for a good performance, I would’ve walked off before Jimmy. Hell, I’d’ve shoved him to get to you.”

Layla scoffs at the blond’s words, her hands twined around the guitarist’s neck. “Sorry, blondie, I’m not handing those out to just anyone. Besides, don't you have two beautiful blondes looking to take a bite out of you?”

“Ah, you're right, little dove. Excuse me, but I must get going.” Robert says with a wink, strolling back over to the two women.

Layla looks back at Jimmy, to find him staring at her. They remain there, gazes locked on one other, until Jimmy finally looks away, scanning the room.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private, hm?” Jimmy whispers, taking Layla’s hand in his and leading her out the door.

Walking through the maze of hallways, hand in hand, Layla is struck by the parallels of the last time her and Jimmy were here. Only this time, she hadn’t just kissed him on the cheek. Her cheeks flush a dark scarlet at the thought as she is pulled into a deserted room, hand still linked with Jimmy’s own.

“Layla, I…”

“That was…”

The couple speak in unison, nerves taking over. Jimmy takes a deep breath, gripping Layla’s hands tightly in his, as he looks down at her, green eyes twinkling like stars in the midnight sky.

“Are you,” He starts, clearing his throat as he gazes down at Layla, who is looking up at him in reverence, reminiscent of the look she had given him on the plane. “Are you okay, petal? You don’t seem like the kind of person to just… kiss someone like that.”

“Honestly? Angel, I’ve been thinking of doing that for a while. Since the moment I first saw you, really.”

“Well… The feeling is mutual, but I mean… I think we should talk about this.”

“Jimmy Page, always the pragmatist.”

The man chuckles, smirking at the woman, places a hand beside her head on the wall, leaning in close. “Hey, you’ve never complained about it before, so why start now?”

“Maybe I did, behind your back. You would have no way of knowing, would you?” Layla says, a sweet smile on her lips as she bats her eyelashes; the image of false innocence.

Jimmy smiles at the woman, until it slips off his face, his downcast eyes troubled. He reaches up a hand to thumb lightly at his nose, and she realizes that he’s nervous. Tilting his head up with a finger at his chin, she meets his eyes.

“Jim, what’s wrong? Did… Did you not like it? The kiss, I mean?” Jimmy startles at this, quick to reassure her with a hand at her cheek, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles along her cheekbone.

“Of course I liked it, petal. How could I not? I just… I want to do this right, Layla.”

“Mhm.” Layla hums, moving closer to the man, smirking softly at the nervousness that plagues the guitarist.

“You’re not just… You’re not just some groupie to me, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t want this to be just a one night stand, or… or a fling, or a friends with benefits situation, Layla. I want you.”

“Right.”

“I think we should take this slow, and see where… When did you get so close to me?”

Layla leans forward, placing a peck on his lips, and pulls away, leaving him stunned. He shakes his head, and tries again, brow furrowing in determination. “Layla, I’m serious, I really—”

This is met by yet another peck of the lips. Jimmy opens his mouth to speak, trying once more, but he is thwarted by yet another sweet kiss. Finally giving in, Jimmy deepens the kiss, hands landing in her hair. He spins them around, and crowds Layla against the wall, pulling back briefly, which elicits a soft whine from the brunette.

“Jimmy—”

“Are you okay with this, petal?”

“... Get over here.”

She pulls him in once again, and they resume where they left off. Jimmy laps at the opening of Layla’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, and his request is granted. The couple battles for dominance, their hands roaming anywhere they could reach. Jimmy’s palm slides down to rest at her back, dangerously close to slipping lower. Layla smiles against his lips, and pulls away, breathing heavily. She presses one more breathless kiss to Jimmy’s lips, and smiles widely, taking in the man before her. His hair is a mess, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are locked onto hers, searching her face with a hint of a smile. She wants this to work; for them to work.

“Angel, I want to take this slow too. I don’t want to lose you to someone else, just because we rushed this. I do, however, hope we can still kiss like that on the regular.”

“We’ll see, petal.” Jimmy laughs, winding a familiar arm around her shoulders, as he presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, how the tables have turned… I’m usually the one dishing out cheek kisses.”

“That may just have to change, then.”

“Be careful, I could very well just go and find Robert right now. You know, maybe I'll go steady with him instead…”

Laughter follows behind them like a shadow as they walk back to the dressing room to find the rest of their crew. Jimmy’s arm still rests around the shoulders of the woman, and as they enter, the band take in the disheveled state of the couple.  

“Oh my god—”

“Come on, boys, we have a plane to catch!”

“Actually, Pagey,” Jonesy interjects, smiling at the couple, eyebrows waggling. “We still have a few minutes. What happened while you were gone?”

“Did you guys, like… have a quickie in the custodial closet or something?”

“God, Bonzo, we—”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Bonham.” Layla interjects, kind smile cutting through the sarcasm of her response. Bonzo smiles back, clapping Layla on the shoulder. Robert pouts playfully, curls bouncing as he lowers his head slightly.

“That should have been me…”

Peter chooses this moment to walk in, alerting them that it’s finally time to leave. One taxi ride later, everybody piles into the Starship, making themselves comfortable. Jimmy and Layla take a spot on the comfortable loveseat, and fall asleep right away, leaning up against one another.

If they wake up, backs sore once again, it’s worth it to them.

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|4

chapter 4: the scene

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: you and Tom get... nicer. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: smut (if you don’t wanna read it skip the *), swearing, mentions of sex, alcohol mention, didn’t proof read

word count: 4.9k

here’s a playlist

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged? 

We’ve all made mistakes. It’s a part of life. It’s on us if we learn from them or not. Making the same mistake twice makes you a fool, but making it for the third time and doing it worse, makes you wise. No, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. Because life isn’t a movie, you can’t skip a scene. 

But everyone conspired on making everyone believe life would be like the movies. You knew better. You knew that your life wouldn’t have something out of the ordinary. 

And you didn’t believe in movies that made the whole big act, you loved movies which pictured life as it is. Of course, we can’t get rid of the whole happily ever after and the good guy wins, dreams come true. But, the whole story can’t be a fairytale, it had to have some drama, it couldn’t be perfect, because life..it truly wasn’t. 

You had a lot of trouble with the script you were about to write, not only because it involved pulling stunts you’d certainly not like doing, but because it wasn’t the kind of scripts you liked to write. Because you knew that your boss wanted a story that would sell, and you didn’t like writing those. They felt… plain. 

You believed in feelings and in poetic cinema, if one must call it some way. You believed in rough action and transmitting something, on making life a little bit better, but true. You loved writing feelings and the thoughts and the way we tend to speak when we're alone, the roughness of thoughtful and quiet minds, life as hard as it was. Not writing about some stupid tv series about getting revenge on your childhood enemy. Because even though this was life, it was more than that. 

It was deeper and so beyond the crap you were pulling. 

It wasn’t something you’d watch. Especially, because for you, there were too many love songs, too many romance movies, too many of them. The world doesn’t need one more, did it? It was getting tiring the same old story. There wasn’t one that made you feel something. What was so special about romantic movies? You never truly liked them, maybe it was due to your early heartbreak but you never invested your life on romance. It felt… plain. Like a scene with no action. 

How would you write something that probably didn’t exist? Not that you didn’t believe in love, but romance per se. You didn’t like the idea of giving false hope. 

But movies, they gave false hope. Of the guy who’d stop your wedding, or the summer love or whatever crap they’ve manifested so recklessly now. It was stupid. 

Sure dreams aren’t crap, and there are moments in life which you’d love to picture forever. There was something about life being captured in camera that made it so… magical. Maybe that’s why you’d obsessed on the videos that you’d recorded throughout your childhood and teenage years. You had a sort of project with them, one you’d kept to your heart. The script you actually wanted to write, about a girl and a dream and how life maybe keeps pulling her down. And that maybe she stopped one day and wondered if this was the life she was supposed to live. 

An Oscar worthy script, that’s what you’d love to write. Not some stupid tv series that’d probably star some standup comedian that would be popping at the moment and Britain’s latest sweetheart. 

You didn’t want to write it.

Besides, you weren’t sure  how exactly you’d write what was probably going to happen. Because you knew what was going to happen. You wouldn’t have this on camera, though. 

The driver was rushing  to get you to your location, and you weren’t sure why you hadn’t stopped either yourself or Tom from doing this. 

This was the sort of mistakes that happen in movies that lead to the perfect romantic spot. But this was your life and you were sure that this would only lead to more trouble than you already had with him. But gosh, why was he so good at this? His lips were like poison, but you had to keep on tasting and tasting. 

This could be… poetic cinema. 

His fingers were roaming around your skin as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue finding a way into your mouth. You pulled away, this was inappropriate, and you could clearly sense it by the way the driver was trying to go faster. 

Tom frowned and you discreetly motioned to the driver, but that didn’t keep Tom away. His hand on your waist was fidgeting as he cleared his throat. 

The ride went quiet, too quiet for your own convenience. Except for the music the driver was playing in the background. Your heart beat was about to pop out of your chest, but eventually you arrived at Tom’s place. 

“Or should we go to your…?” He asked but you quickly jumped off the car. Tom quickly followed you and rushed to the door. He searched for his keys but you had already placed your lips back on his, you felt in such a rush, unsure why. 

*

He weakened against your touch as he then pushed you against the door, he finally found the keys and opened it, you both, between sloppy kisses walked in. Your hands were going under his shirt and he pulled away. 

“We can’t make any noise,” he whispered as your lips landed on the very welcoming spot on his collarbone.

“Shut up, then,” you ordered as his hands landed on your ass, feeling it up. His fingers then travelled up your sides. 

He slammed you against the wall, taking you by surprise but he smirked. “In no way are you taking control of this,” he warned as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck. 

“We’ll see,” you sentenced as you walked your fingers down his chest, down to his pants as you unbuckled him, but then your fingers stayed on his abs, as they traced them up, making him shiver as he was too busy moving down to your cleavage. 

You pushed him away to finally rip off his shirt and he pushed you right back to the wall, as he unzipped you, his hand cupped your heat. You let out a moan but he quickly silenced you by pushing his lips back to yours.

“So wet for me, darling?” He smudged between kisses, as he started to grind against you, you felt a bulge growing up and pushing you up. He was the one to groan this time. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he stated as he pulled your legs up to his waist. 

“That’s the least you could do,” you snapped. And he took it as an invitation for his hand to go past your pants, feeling your folds through the underwear. You closed your eyes with pleasure as his fingers gently circled your core through the fabric, but then he pulled his hand back up as he saw you liking more than he wanted to

You started to unbutton him but he stopped your hands. This was the alcohol doing its job, but also you had really felt the need to do this, without feeling anything for anyone. Somehow your friends had been right, this was exactly what you needed a perfect rebound.

“To my room,” he warned as he picked you off the ground and between pushing you against the walls and trying no to fall, you both finally made it. 

He slammed his door shut and then let you down, but you changed it up, pushing him against the bed. He sat on the edge as he pulled you close to him, he finally got rid of your shirt as his lips then connected to your chest. You sat on top of him, and grinded against him. He moaned, but you covered his mouth knowing damn well his brother and Harrison were next door. 

“Easy, Holland.” You grinned as you pushed his arms down to the bed, he looked at you with surprise but then a smug smirk traced on his lips. 

“This seems oddly familiar,” he recalled, laughing. “Seems like all those years wrestling were of use.” 

He unhooked your bra as he then admired them, he didn’t hesitate on bringing his lips to them.

His tongue swirled around your nipples. You bit your lip trying to stop yourself from making any noise as you pushed him back down, you finally unzipped him and pushed down his pants, his hard cock trying to burst out of his boxers. You crawled back up to meet his lips, your hand palming his length. 

“All that for me? I thought you hated me,” you grinned cockily, as you kissed down your way down to his abs, but then you kissed your way back up. You teased him, as you felt his cock growing. You say on top of it, legs opened and chuckled as you moved your hips around just a little, his hands practically cementing into your body as he also tried to move you as he pleased to. 

“Fuck, y/n,” he half moaned half whispered. But you went back down to the edge of his boxers as your fingers brushed against his length, as his body . But you were only teasing him, somehow seeing him tense and suffering had you on your edge. 

“Are you going to do something or not?” He snapped, and you laughed to yourself. 

“No,” you smirked as you traveled back to suck on his collarbone, grinding against him. 

“Fuck,” he cursed as he took you by your arms and pushed you into the bed. It was his time to pull down your pants, as his hands caressed your half naked body, bristling your skin with each touch. He kissed behind your ear and then turned your face to face him. 

You thrashed your hips against his, trying to get some friction to the growing need in yours, it seemed like he had needs of his own to be covered. But even as his lips crawled down from your lips to your chest down to your belly, you knew you weren’t going to get what you wanted. You squirmed against his touch, his lips leaving wet spots as he was trying caving his way down. He was just an inch from your sex as he kissed your thighs, his warm breath vibrating against your heat, he smirked as he placed a single kiss on top of your underwear. 

“Tom,” you breathed out, but he only brushed his lips against it, as if he was punishing you for what you’d done earlier. “You’re a prick.” 

“I know.” 

He climbed back up as his fingers brushed your underwear again, pulling it down slowly. His index gently bristled your folds as you let out a soft moan. Your hands arrived back on his ass as you kneaded them, just as his own hand played with your breasts. 

You finally pulled down his boxer and his cock sprung out, already dripping. He brushed it again your swollen clit and you had to catch your breath. 

“Keep it down,” he warned again. 

“Or what, asshole?” You grinned as your fingered traveled down to hold his pulsating bulge, he rolled his eyes back and then gasped out of surprise. 

But he pushed your arms to the bed, as you looked into his eyes, filled with lust and excitement. 

“No touching,” he ordered as you plucked into the duvet, gripping tight as his own fingers slid through your folds, as his thumb rubbed circles on your core. 

You convulsed with pleasure as he then tried to positioned himself in between your legs. He searched in his nightstand and reached out for the condom, ripping it open with his teeth. 

You saw his hard and big cock sprung out as he wrapped it around. He smirked. You couldn’t have expected it even if being warned as soon as he filled you up, you let out a moan. 

“Shut up, idiot,” he reminded you as he adjusted himself. “So tight,” he whispered as he started to thrust upon you, slowly at first then getting a steady rhythm than had you pulling on the blankets. You bit your lip to resist you from moaning, and Tom was trying to shut himself too as he was slamming against you. Your hands found their way into his har and you clawed his back. He cursed against you, but his lips found their way back to yours. His fingers trailed down back to your core as he was circling it, just like you needed him to. 

You cursed under your breath, as you rocked your own hips up. He rolled back his eyes as he let out a moan. 

“You shut up,” you said this time with a smirk, as he pulled you up, sitting the two of you up, helping you out to maneuver more. 

“Fuck, I hate you so much,” he stated. 

“Hate me harder, then,” you snapped. You rocked your hips in circles trying to find the perfect spot as he jumped up and down, his head falling back down with pleasure, as his hands explored around your body. 

“I’m gonna--” He announced as you nodded. Sweat dripping down the both of your bodies. 

“Me too,” you whispered as you felt your orgasm building up in your stomach, your thighs trying to close as he kept opening you back up. He laid you  back down as he tried to keep up his pace but you saw him squirming, as your own toes curled and you had to keep the grip on the duvets as you reached your high, panting slowly as he finally came undone, and pulled out of you to catch his breath.

You rubbed your face as you were panting softly. 

*

That had… been a scene. Maybe not as poetic as you thought it would go, but it was rough. 

“We fucked up, didn’t we?” You managed to say in between breaths. 

He grinned. “I… don’t think we did.” He admitted as he faced you. “That was amazing.” 

“It was okay,” you stated, with a smirk, knowing it’d pinch his pride. 

“What?” He frowned. 

You laughed. “I’m kidding… it was…” You bit your lip. “It was great.” 

“Try fucking great,” he corrected you. “We made a good team for once.” 

You shrugged. “You said it, all those years wrestling.” 

“Man, why did Timmy leave you? That was… something else” 

“Are you really going there?” You rolled your eyes. 

He laughed. “Right, sorry, I forgot about your shitty personality.” 

“And you’re one to speak,” you flicked his shoulder. 

“I’m England’s sweetheart,” he smirked. “The whole world is in love with me.” 

“The whole world is stupid,” you stated. 

He paused and then chuckled to himself, it felt silent, and you felt your stomach falling down. He stared at you, and for a moment, it felt different as if he had paused to admire you, and you did to, looking at the sweat that sensually brightened up his face and as his chest puffed up and down, it felt… Different, not like you were just seconds ago, it had  changed it all to this, not the rush, not the heat, it was… Silent. He puckered his lips as he then proceeded to caress them, you raised your brows but then pushed his hair away from his face. He kissed you again, it felt different as he wrapped himself around you. As if he was trying to state something with the kiss. As if he was asking to slow it down, and… you did. 

You woke up later, it was early, the moonlight was still striking through the room, you curled up to the soft and warm duvet that surrounded you, your bare skin made you feel uncomfortable, but you were… pleased. You tried to shift but his arm fell around you, he pulled you close to him. And then you turned around to look at him. You felt your skin bristle with cold. You ran a hand through his hair, still curled from the sweat. 

You despised him. 

Even if the moon was dancing over his skin and his eyes were calm enough and his lips just parted perfectly, you were sure of it, you didn’t like him. Specially because you’d felt used, no matter how good it had felt, it only made your hatred grow. Because you knew how it’d go in the morning, with him probably telling his friend and brother that you had begged him to sleep with you, even if he had been the one to start it. 

And you hated him because he had made you feel so good, it had felt great, there had been barely any inhibitions. And… no feelings. It was weird. It had been what you’d probably asked from yourself all this years, selfless meaningless sex. Casual, and… It probably wouldn’t ruin anything.

That’s what made it worse. This wouldn’t be acknowledged in just a few hours. 

You closed your eyes again to find some sleep, as he pulled you even closer. Which made you… feel different. He probably was doing this subconsciously and you didn’t need to address it. But if you were honest, you’d been so touch starved since your break up that you had missed this more than the sex. An arm around you and someone to curl up to. 

This… this was too intimate and you weren’t sure if you liked it was with Tom, out of everyone, with Tom. But you couldn’t help but feel nice with his bare skin against yours. 

Eventually you fell back asleep. 

You woke up later again, the foggy light coming from the window, as you stretched out to find no one by your side. You felt a jolt in your stomach as you saw your clothes perfectly folded on the edge of the bed. 

You didn’t want to walk out of the room, and you didn’t want to face anyone. Not Harrison, not Harry, although you’d been quiet, you were kind of sure the bed had made noise of its own. 

You didn’t regret it, though. Somehow, you didn’t regret it, but you didn’t want to address it. 

You dressed up and then, quietly made your way down. You almost had a heart attack as you saw Tom in the kitchen. 

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” He asked. The sentence stayed in the air, as you stayed there, with your arms crossed. 

 He seemed confused as he stared at you. 

“I just woke up.” Your voice was just as harsh as his. 

“Well, you’re up. Go.” He snapped again as he was looking behind you. 

“I literally just woke up, Tom,” you rolled your eyes taking out your phone. “I’ll—get myself a cab and then we’re good.” 

“I’m—no, sorry, I’m sorry,old habits, it’s cause...I think I saw Haz there. They can’t see you,” he explained, as he went to a softer spot on his voice. He gulped as he stared at you. He walked over and grabbed you by the hand as he pulled you to the end of the kitchen, cornering you against the counter. 

“I am not hiding, Tom.” 

“I—sorry, sorry… sorry,” he apologized, as his hands landed on your waist. Your brows picked up. “I just—don’t want them to know.” 

“You’d rather have them believe we hate each other?” You questioned. 

“Well.” 

“I don’t have to pretend,” you stressed. “Nothing’s changed.” 

“Oh, I don’t like you either.” He smirked. “However, I think a lot has changed y/n,” he pointed out as he lifted your chin, his fingers sketching on your waist. He knew exactly what he was doing as his eyes were bathing you with his glance, going from your own sight to your lips. 

“We don’t have to do this,” you quickly sassed. “We can pretend it didn’t happen.” 

“But it did, y/n.” 

“You know it changed nothing right? I still despise you.” 

“Tell me more,” he smirked as his  lips bristled a sweet spot on your neck. 

“That’s not dirty talk,” you stated. 

He grinned. “Which makes it better, doesn’t it?” His lips were barely half an inch close to yours. “But we both know, they can’t find out about it,” he admitted and you felt his warm breath hitting your lips. 

Somehow that made it… fun. Keeping this a secret and having the adrenaline of trying not to be discovered awakened something in you. You closed the gap by pressing your lips fully to him, and you could taste coffee from them, a sweet but passionate kiss. 

“We were drunk,” you said in between kisses. 

“I’m not drunk right now,” he grinned as he cupped your face. “It was fun.” 

“I… really, Tom…” You looked away. “I don’t do that.” 

“You think I do?” 

You shrugged. “Well.” 

“I guess we both did it because we trust each other,” he admitted. “For better or for worse.” 

“Well, it can’t… Keep happening.” You gulped. 

“Why not?” He grinned as he placed a single kiss on your cheek. “It’s not like we’d catch feelings.” 

He was right, and that made you think of the first reason you’d done it. The bloody script you had to write. 

“But I’m going to work for you, it’d be unprofessional,” you said. “Besides, sleeping with the enemy?” 

Tom laughed. “I guess,” he sighed dramatically. “Well, it was fun.” 

You pushed him away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.” 

“I was about to make you coffee,” he stopped you by your hand. 

You frowned. “Really?”

“No,” he smirked. “You really thought I’d get all domestic on you? Gee, y/n, thought you’d known better. Get the hell out of my house.” 

You grinned. “You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” 

“Y/N?” And that voice had not been the one you expected. 

“Harry, hi,” you gulped. 

Harry looked confused, this had fucked it up. If he’d heard anything from what had happened. Tom stopped as he stared at you, you knew he was building up excuses as his brother watched you both. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “Are you… wearing the same…?” 

He seemed clueless, that was good. 

“Yeah, uh, last night y/n got pretty wasted so I offered her to stay here,” Tom cleared out his throat. 

“You did?” Harry raised his brows. 

“Yeah, yeah, he was drunk too, you know we’re nice to each other when we’re drunk,” you explained. But last night you’d been quite a bit nicer, hadn’t you? You wrinkled your nose. 

“Morning,” Harrison had chirped into the kitchen. “Oh, y/n didn’t see you…” He frowned as he looked between you and Tom. “Hello.” 

“Haz,” you smiled at him, trying to cover up your embarrassment. “What’s up?” 

“Eh, not much, just awful roommates I have,” he pointed out as he glared at Harry and Tom. “Uh, okay, I found this,” Haz said lifting up Tom’s t-shirt from last night, throwing it over at Tom, but then turning back to you.. 

Both Tom and you got flustered red as he caught it. 

 “Where did you sleep? Had I known I would’ve offered you my room,” Harry pushed.  

“I--I gave-I gave her my room, I slept on the couch, yeah, yeah, I slept on the couch,” Tom explained. 

“And the shirt?” Harrison frowned.

“I was drunk and since I slept on the couch… I took it off,” Tom quickly blurted out. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “And he already kicked me out, so I’ll… see you later, Harry, Haz.”  

Harry frowned. “Of course not,” Harry said. “You’re staying for breakfast.” 

Tom sighed. “Then I’m not having breakfast with you.” 

“No one wants that,” you poisoned as he walked past you, but he dedicated you a wink as he left. 

“Piss off, y/n,” he chanted as he finally left, lifting his middle finger at you. 

“Fuck off, Tommy!” You sang back. “Have a shitty day!” 

Harry crossed his arms as he rolled his eyes. “Is that ever going to stop?” 

“No, not really,” you grinned. 

Harry headed to the coffee pot as he poured out a mug for you, you sat down on the counter as Harrison was very confused watching you. He pulled out his protein shake and started to prepare it. 

Harrison seemed suspicious. “Was anyone watching porn last night?” 

“What?” You laughed. 

“I heard...moans,” Haz said. “Could've been my imagination.” 

“Again with those dreams boo?” Harry teased. 

“I...I was,” you lied, nervously. Harry and Haz side eyed each other with a smirk. You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t porn, I… Was helping out a friend with a scene.” 

That gave them less of an explanation. 

“He… is making a project, it’s… You know one of those films that has the unnecesary sex scene but it’s all poetic and shit?” You rolled your eyes. “He asked me if it had been unnecessary.” 

“Was it good?” Harry asked. 

“Very,” you said without thinking. “Bad. Very Bad. Very unnecessary.” 

Haz laughed. “Well, I heard it but then I went back to sleep, thought Tom had brought someone, but… Clearly,” he laughed as he stared at you. “I was very wrong.” 

“Very.” 

Harrison finished shaking his protein. “Well, Imma head out, it was nice seeing you, y/n,” he grinned. 

“You too, Haz.” 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “So, what’s the script gonna be about? Any idea?,” he said as he handed you a mug of hot coffee. 

“I...” You shrugged. “Dunno, I’m not as excited,” you admitted. “They probably want me to write something that sells.” 

“And have England’s new sweetheart to star it,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Right.” 

“But maybe I’ll go back to the other project you know?” 

“Memories one?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, so if you have any vids please... Send them my way, I need some inspiration.” 

He grinned. “For sure.” 

“I....y/n I’ve gotta be honest, I need to talk to you.” 

You felt guilt inside you, maybe he had heard you last night. “About what?” The coffee tasted bittersweet. 

“Tom,” Harry was serious. 

You almost spat the coffee.

“What about him?” You faked ignorance but you couldn’t ignore the tingle in your stomach. 

“You’re gonna be his assistant, y/n, and… I know he really can be an asshole to you,” he started. 

You loosened up as you took a deep breath. “Ah don’t worry, we… talked about that last night, we’ll… be okay, we can be….decent.” 

“But can you?” He questioned. 

“Well,” you clicked your tongue. “We’ll try, and besides... I...” 

“Did you go check his stuff last night?” 

You had checked him just fine, that you had. “I... we... didn’t, but I’ll ask him to send it over to me. Look, I’ll text him just now.” 

You picked out your phone and hovered through your contacts, Tom’s had a crap emoji right next to it. 

Y/n: Hey, send me your schedule, dipshit.  Tom: Hmm, I think I need something in return, love. 

You rolled your eyes as Harry watched you. “He’ll send it later,” you told him. 

Y/N: Not gonna happen.  Tom: I haven’t even asked you anything.  Y/N: No.  Tom: Tell me more.  Y/N: This isn’t sexting. Tom: Nice, and what are you wearing? Y/N: 🖕 Tom: Oh, already asking for a dick pic?  Tom: attachment Tom: 😉

You coughed as you felt your heart stopping, but it was only his schedule. You put your phone away and then watched Harry. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, perfect.” 

Harry sighed as he looked up. “There’s… there’s something else, I need to tell you.” 

You watched him as he paced around the kitchen, he seemed nervous, he really had something to tell you and you knew this wouldn’t go well. What was this all about? 

With Harry, it was always… Complicated. He was your best friend and you could trust him with anything in the world, but sometimes, you’d felt like there was always something in your friendship bothering him. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was so close to Tom and you couldn’t stand him, or maybe it revolved around the fact that Harry was one of the few people whom you’d actually worded it to: ‘I like him’, sure it had been a long time ago, and those feelings had never resurface but Harry knew it. Harry had seen you cry when Tom had made you cry. And Harry had been the one to show up at your house, uninvited to make you feel better after Tom had been an asshole to you. 

But what could Harry really do about it? It was his brother you were talking about, sure he could stop him, but he’d always have to choose Tom over you, because he was his damned brother. 

Would it bother him if he knew you’d slept with him? Probably. 

Probably.

“I… I love Emma,” Harry started. 

That was certainly not where you thought the conversation would go. You grinned, knowingly. “I know, silly.” 

“I…” Harry closed his eyes. “I… really love her, okay, and… Everything else is just…” 

You raised your brows. “Well, that’s amazing, isn’t it?” 

“I..” Harry was shaking. “God, I thought saying this would be easier.” 

“Harry Holland, what are you tryna tell me?” You chuckled with confusion. 

He kept pacing through the room, trying to talk to himself. “I well, look, it’s complicated, and I’m telling you this first because you’re my best friend, alright? And I need you to tell me if I’m doing anything stupid, or… If whatever, I mean, I dunno, maybe it is very silly, but I feel that even after… After all these years when I thought I knew something, I well… Look, it’s… I haven’t even told Sam, and not Tom…” 

“What?” You tilted your head. 

Harry took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Harry finally blurted it out. 

Well, that was a scene.

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[you-did-well-moon]

Seventeen reaction to s/o writing a cute song about them

Type: pure fluff kids

Word count: 4,556

A/n: you guys don't know how fat of an uwu I busted seeing this request. Even now my heart is like bursting with love. I also changed up the request a bit. I don’t have many love songs in my playlist so once again it’s research time. I didn’t really make it a idol reader since I wanted it tp be more personal. Don't be afraid to talk to me or to request. Stay safe clowns -Moon

yes, im fully aware you cant write a song in a day but shhhhh

S.Coups

Song: Hypnotized - Years And Years

“I know a place where it's always so perfect and blue And a boy says, Babe, believe me, it's all for you Ooooh the fortune said, Flowers bloom with no regret

Surround me, body and soul Pull me into your glow, make me blush Unbound me, spin me in gold As the story unfolds in your touch”

You were sitting on the couch, your notebook in your lap trying to focus on the essay you were writing, but your eyes kept going back to your boyfriend. He was currently listening to one of his members who was troubled by something. The sweet look in his eyes reminded you much of the same look he’d give you when speaking reassuring words into the shell of your ear as he pulled you into his capable arms. You couldn't stop your pencil from spilling words of love onto the page with a soft smile tugging at your lips.

You were so distracted you didn't notice Seungkwan reading the intimate words over your shoulder until he snatched the notebook from your hands. Thankfully, Seungcheol noticed your predicament immediately moving to save you but freezing when Seungkwan told him you had written a love song about him. He looked at you who was staring at the floor before grabbing the notebook and hitting Seungkwan upside the head with it. He bought you closer to his warm body allowing you to hide your face in his chest leading you to his room. He would softly ask you if he could look at what you had written. Finishing reading the words he turned around trying to hide the huge smile overtaking his mouth. When you reached out to him, he quickly got a hold of you falling gently onto his bed as he hid his smile in your neck squishing you in a tight hug. 

Seungcheol would find so much comfort in your sweet words when you couldn't be there to provide comfort yourself. He’d have it somewhere where he can look at it whenever he wants to. If he was particularly missing you, he’d let a tear or two slip. 

Jeonghan

Song: I Wouldn't Mind - He Is We 

”Carefully we'll place for our destiny. You came and you took this heart And set it free. Every word you write and sing is so warm to me So warm to me. I'm torn, I'm torn. To be right where you are.

I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid.”

You chewed at the end of your pencil as you worked on your notebook eyebrows furrowing when you noticed your boyfriend hadn't whined out at you to leave your work for later and cuddle him. Looking up your expression immediately  softened at the sight of your boyfriend’s chest lightly rising and falling with his face mushed up against the pillow. You chuckled gently brushing his hair away from his eyes, fingers falling to trace along his cheekbones until they took a hold of your discarded pencil starting to write words that easily came at the thought of your lover.

You couldn't help the rush of warmth that spread across the expanse of your chest when any thought of your boyfriend popped up in your head. You remember distinctly how afraid you were to be with someone like him. Someone so carefree and laid back. Someone with a job like the one he had with thousands of eyes watching every move he made. You also distinctly remember how quickly he has assured you, you would be safe with him if it was the last thing he did. Even if relaxed and easy going, Jeonghan would not hesitate to step up if your safety or happiness was in danger. You were so lost in thinking of the way your relationship had grown, you didn't notice the bed shifting lightly next to you. You weren't really surprised when you felt a body roll on top of yours a chin placing itself on your shoulder. You let him read the fond words grinning when you heard him lightly laugh into your hair arms turning your body around to smother you in light kisses.

Jeonghan would tease you about the song joking about how you must really love him to write such a cheesy song, but he only pokes fun with good intentions. He memorized the lyrics softly singing them at random times not even noticing the words coming out his mouth. If he has any say in it, it's the song he’ll sing at your wedding.

Joshua

Song: Heaven - Exo

“Hello angel, you’re like a painting You’re all I see when I look to the skies City street lights, even if the lights go out And the moon disappears, it’s bright because I have a star that fell from the skies And it’s you

I keep laughing for some reason every night Even when I close my eyes, I can’t sleep I spend the entire night with thoughts of you Your sparkling smile lets me breathe Probably you, you I’m sure you have wings hidden behind your back Anyone can tell you’re my angel I can fly as long as I’m with you”

You couldn't help but laugh as Joshua was fighting with a pigeon who was trying to steal the sandwich in his hands. You had come on a date to Han River riding your bikes with Joshua carrying a blanket in his backpack and you carrying a picnic basket. You had told him to eat his food before the birds caught wind of it, but he insisted on taking pictures because Minghao wanted some. You shook your head lightly when Joshua offered the bird a small piece and it finally left him alone. Giggling to yourself, you looked up at him munching happily on his sandwich features highlighted by the sun’s light.

Getting the little notebook you always carried around with you from his backpack, you started writing a song about your angelic boyfriend. Everything seemed easier when you were with him. Brighter. Happier. Every moment was spent beautifully and every action was laced with love. Even breathing seemed easier around him. Every few moments, you would look up at him, your chest shaking with a quiet laugh, and your eyes sparkling with mirth before clutching the notebook to your chest and continuing to write. Joshua eventually took note of this placing his head on his hands and softly asking what you were up to. You narrowed your eyes playfully giving him the notebook with your heart fluttering nervously. As he read the words, his smile would grow bigger and the blush on his cheeks would deepen. He would reach out to ruffle your hair promising hugs and kisses when you got home. Well, he didn't fail to deliver.

Joshua would be playful but serious about the song you wrote. He definitely grew confidence in your relationship becoming touchier. Randomly rapping trying to rhyme with love around you. He would take a picture of the page looking at it and smiling because he knew no matter what happened, his own angel was waiting for him to be in their arms and he was always ready for endless amounts of love you were sure to shower him with. 

Jun

Song: Moon And Back - Alice Kristiansen 

“baby to the moon, and back i still love you more than that when your skies are grey and your whole world is shakin' to the moon, and back i love you more than that we may fall but we'll keep on going we may break but we won't say broken through the cracks in the road the flowers grow”

Your hands that were clutching on to the glass of water shook slightly after having to calm down your boyfriend who had been crying for a multitude of reasons. Missing his family and believing he wasn’t good enough for both the group and you were the main reasons. You had calmed him down with a hand rubbing at his back and comforting words whispered into his tear stained shirt. You convinced him to play some games to distract him. Entering his room you saw him now fully immersed into his game fingers hurriedly jabbing at the buttons as he sat on the floor.

You placed the water on his nightstand watching as he sent a small smile your way at the sound of the glass hitting the wood of the furniture. You made your way towards him sitting down knees and thighs brushing against his. You couldn’t stop yourself as you analyzed him before whipping out your phone starting to write what you deemed a song. Junhui had always asked you how much you loved him, and you always answered “to the moon and back”. But both of you knew the love you held for each other was immeasurable. You would be there for each other no matter what life had in store for you. Smiling in satisfaction, you softly nudged Jun with the edge of your phone. You watched as his expression became shyer laughing under his breath. He didn't say anything for a little bit needing time to process just how fast his heart was beating. Taking a deep breath, he’d exhale slowly falling into your body while digging his face into your neck telling you to just stay like that for a little bit.

Jun would always go quiet whenever you mentioned the song, always needing time to fully process the fact that yes, you had written a love song for him. A song that always managed to make his heart stop just thinking about it. He would find himself murmuring the words while lost in thought smiling softly at the thought of the song and of you.

Hoshi

Song: Starlight - Taeyeon Ft. Dean

”Reflected in my eyes is your squinted eyes, yeah You’re smiling behind that awkward face You’re so lovable, I couldn’t hold back, oh I discovered you like a miracle, you always make me smile You are my starlight

You are my starlight, shine on my heart When I’m with you, it feels like I’m dreaming all day You are my starlight, I get so happy Your love is like a gift”

You were laying on your stomach in the practice room working on a present for your boyfriend as he worked on a new choreography for the group. You smiled at the fact that even though he was probably tired and sleepy, his eyes looked as bright as ever. You had been there keeping him company all day, but you didn't mind. You were rewarded with Soonyoung flopping next to you and showering you with love in the form of kisses and tickles every few minutes.

You checked the time on your phone noticing it was close to it being time to go home since Soonyoung never liked staying too late when you were with him. You tried speeding up your writing a bit not noticing your boyfriend approaching you until he was right in front of you. You tried hiding what you were working on by shoving it under your body, but it was too late. Soonyoung was able to clutch on to it and read what you were working on as you whined about it not being finished yet. You would see his hands start to tremble and his eyes shimmering. You asked what was wrong, but he’d shake his head taking your face in his shaking hands softly kissing you while thanking you in between kisses. Soonyoung would feel so touched, but he would smile shakily not letting his tears fall, his hands falling to clutch on to your own.

You bet Soonyoung would make a little dance to your song, and he would make you dance to it with him telling you had to dance since you wrote it. This would lead to many moments of you guys laughing on the floor and randomly hugging each other. Hosh would always have the brightest smile on his face just thinking about the song, and he would get clingy too not being able to stop smothering you in his love because oh wow he loved you so much he felt like he was going to burst.

Wonwoo

Song: Beautiful Feeling - Day6

”Shivers go down my body I’m so happy That I’m shedding tears Some people say love But I think There’s something more than that If you know, tell me If there isn’t, make one up To this beautiful feeling This beautiful feeling

Like and love Aren’t enough To express this beautiful feeling”

You should have expected Wonwoo taking a long time trying to decide between what book he wanted to take home, but sitting there in the book store on a pair of love seats facing each other you were beginning to think you seriously underestimated Wonwoo’s indecisive book choices. You looked at him, glasses sliding down the slope of his nose and eyes focuses on the book in his hands. It was like you weren't even there. Shaking your head fondly, you decided to work on the song you would eventually give to him.

Practically shoving your nose in your notebook, you too became focused on the words spilling across the page. You didn't notice Wonwoo getting up until you felt a shoe softly nudging your leg. Looking up to see him with a bag already in his hands you bashfully smiled when his eyebrows raised tilting his head in question of the notebook in your hands. You waved slightly to the other love seat giving him your notebook when he was settled. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up at you with a shocked pointing at himself as if questioning how such lovely words could be written about.. him. You nodded with your eyes never leaving his. He took a deep breath. He had so much waiting to spill out in pure adoration for you, but he couldn't do it in public. Getting home and he would tentatively put your notebook down before bringing you into his embrace. He cradled your head in his hand with the other on the small of your back leaning his head against yours, and he’d close his eyes tightly not saying anything. He just wanted to savor the feeling of you in his arms, your scent giving him the most wonderful high, and your hands clutching on to his shirt.

Wonwoo would be distracted for a while, head swimming with thoughts of you. Your words inspired by him flashing behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. He scoffed reading a romance novel or watching a tv show because no matter what, nothing would ever be able to compare to the love story between him and you.

Woozi

Song: Let Me - Got7

“It might have been the bright sun My face turned red probably It might have been just a feeling I saw you blush too I’m getting drunk on a good feeling today Neither of us even touched alcohol Can I softly hold your hand If you’re ok, can I go for it? Baby Let me hold your hand

Will you be by my side, by my side Can I hold your hand? Don’t be shy Today we come together Today you are especially lovely to me Tonight is our Just one chance Can I hug you? Don’t be afraid Today we come together”

At this point in your relationship, Jihoon had written tons of love songs inspired by you. Each one always making your heart flutter when you heard it. Almost each one having been softly sung against your skin by him. Each one imprinting themselves across the expanse of your chest and heart. You had never been one to write love songs, when there were already millions of them, but now that you had Jihoon in your life, it was the only thing you could think about. You eventually gave in to the temptation, but you hadn't told him of the song.

Sitting with him in his studio, you watched him totally immersed in his songs bringing the lyrics to life with different beats and melodies. Meanwhile, you were working on your own song. The love song your members had begun teasing you about. You had finished it a long time ago, but you kept changing things because you were nervous. You slipped his own headphones off his head gently smiling nervously when he looked at you with questioning eyes. You slipped your own headphones plugged to your laptop with the song ready to play over his ears. You played with your fingers, but when he looked up you almost jumped back in surprise. You had never seen his eyes hold so much love and adoration before. He was looking at you like you had hung the moon and stars in the sky. He would want to be as close to you pulling you on to his lap and resting his head on your chest.

Jihoon would feel like he was floating because you had just told him you love him in his language. Music. He would not be able to stop himself from using some of your lyrics in one of his own songs, with your permission of course, It would be the song that always bought him strength when he stayed late in the studio, and a song that made him happier in general.

DK

Song: The Way You Smile - NewSong ft. Francesca

“The way you open the door you always see about me Treat me like I'm a princess boy you're so sweet Love the way that I feel when I'm in your arms You whisper "You're beautiful" so safe and warm There's a million more, these are just a few Of the many reasons I love you

But there's something about the way you smile I can see forever in your eyes Telling me I'm yours and you're all mine The way that you smile We're like two lovers in a sweet romance I'm your leading lady and you're my man You can say I love you with just a glance”

You were sitting on the couch with the tv in front of you playing an anime Dokyeom had been wanting to see for a long time finally having found the time to do so. He always moved a lot when watching anime because he just got too excited to keep still, so he had ended up sitting in front of you on the floor with his back to the couch in between your legs watching the tv with bright wide eyes. You had been running your hands through his hair until he didn't notice you had stopped in favor of working on the song in your laptop. 

When he did notice, he didn't seem to mind much his laughter almost as loud as the tv when something particularly funny happened. He would tilt his back to beam at you, and you never failed to return the same smile. You got thirsty heading to the kitchen to get water making the mistake of leaving your laptop open on the song. You got lost in thought not hearing the sound of the anime stop or your song start. It wasn't until the song was almost done that you noticed, running into the living room just as Dokyeom looked up at you with flushed cheeks and teary eyes. He asked you who the song was about with a shaking voice and you replied with a simple “you”. He basically stumbled across the room and crashing into your body sobbing into your neck. You could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest pressed against yours. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly as his were wrapped around you asking him what was wrong. He just responded with “no one has ever done something as beautiful or lovely as this for me”. 

Dokyeom would become a bit shy around you for a while after this, bursting out into giggles whenever he saw you. After that wore off, he would get a surge of confidence flirting with you but immediately getting shy and giggly afterwards. 

Mingyu

Song: Touch - Nct 127

“Your voice that calls my name makes my heart drop From some point, I started to talk just like you I can figure it all out, once I hold your hand Once I hold your hand, you know

I don’t know how I can withstand you Even I’m shocked over how I’m being, it’s true My feet won’t listen And keeps following you”

You groaned as you made your way to a bench under a tree next to the field Mingyu had taken you to. He and some of the members wanted to play some games outside, and he had decided to bring you along with him. Something about seeing how manly he looked while throwing a ball at Seungkwan’s face. You were grateful to spend some time with him, but you envied the ball being held by his arms as he talked with the members about the rules of whatever stupid game they had made up. 

Nevertheless, you found the opportunity to work on the song you had been working on. You preferred the comfort of your studio, but the fresh breeze and warmth of the sun wasn't too bad.  You had your headphones fitting your head snuggly, so you didn't hear the boys shouting at you because Mingyu had accidentally kicked the ball too hard, and it happened to be in your direction. It hit the laptop not only cracking the screen but shoving it off your lap and crashing into the ground. Luckily, you had the song saved on your studio computer, but it was still upsetting as you had made some changes to the song. You felt your heart sink as frustration clouded your mind making your eyes water. Mingyu swore he had never run so fast in his life, but when he got to you, you started blabbering about the song he didn't even know existed. You told him to take you to your studio where you showed him the song with a pout and mad puppy eyes. Mingyu felt so bad, but at the same time he felt so good because he was sure his heart was a melted puddle on the ground.

Mingyu loved the song, finished or not. He loved everything about it running at you to pinch your cheeks and call you cute then running away with a loud laugh promising he would cook you a feast at an hourly rate. The feast was never cooked because Mingyu was too busy still thinking about the song and being overwhelmed by giddiness. He would not be able to keep his hands away from you for at least two or three weeks.

The8

Song: I Do Adore - Mindy Gledhill

”Everything you do it sends me Higher than the moon with every Twinkle in your eye You strike a match that lights my heart on fire

When you're near, I hide my blushing face And trip on my shoelaces Grace just isn't my forté But it brings me to my knees when you say”

You were in China. Minghao would be gone for some time while filming a show, so he wanted you to come with him. You agreed since you were on break. You forgot one minor detail. You can’t speak mandarin. Of course, you had your boyfriend, but he wasn't always with you which led to some awkward situations. You really didn't know how to tell the elderly man you were, in fact, not his long lost granddaughter. Minghao was currently filming, and he had left you in an empty room in the building telling staff to leave you be.

Minghao had been so patient and sweet (maybe a bit teasing) with you all throughout the trip, you felt inspired to work on the love song you had started a while ago. The room was empty, and the building had pretty thick walls, so you decided not to use your headphones. You would have to take a step back because the thought of Minghao hearing the song made you feel hot and made you bury your head into your hands shaking the nerve racking thoughts away. You were so immersed in the song nodding along to the beat, you didn't notice the man entering the wrong room until you felt a hand on your shoulder and a voice speaking in rapid mandarin. Turns out the man was a producer and really liked your song. You sat there with wide eyes frozen in your seat as the man spoke excitedly. Fortunately, Minghao wrapped up filming seeing the situation and quickly coming to your rescue. He talked with the man a bit before the producer left telling Minghao his partner wrote great love songs.

He asked you about it, and you would give in showing him the song while shyly hiding behind your hands. Hearing the song, Minghao would have to bite his lip to stop the big smile threatening to take over his face. He’d bury his face in your hair softly kissing your forehead and asking you why you did weird things to his heart while softly laughing. Minghao would ask to hear the song daily, always taking you in his arms as he listened to the sweet song.

Seungkwan

Song: Spring Love - Eric Nam x Wendy

“We fell asleep on a bench, leaning on each other The sweet cherry blossom colors the clear sky I wish it was always like this The name that changed us, spring spring spring I love you, I love you, I love you

Be my spring, I’ll always be your flower I hope we can melt each other and open each other up Our heart to heart that wasn’t visible before Now we’re facing each other The hidden flower is finally blooming I think spring has come”

You were curled up on Seungkwan’s bed working hard on the song you wanted to give to him as an anniversary present. It was basically finished, you just needed to add some finishing touches to it. You didn't notice that in trying to prepare this beautiful present for your boyfriend, you had neglected the poor man. He had enough, coming into the room whining and flopping down onto the bed telling you to pay attention to him while glaring at your laptop. He suggested going for a walk which you happily agreed to practically getting dragged out the building.

You hummed happily grasping Seungkwan’s hand in yours as he laughed and made jokes about stupid things the members had done. He asked about your day contentedly swinging your joined hands. The walk eventually turned quiet with the both of you enjoying each other’s presence and the nice weather. You felt so calm and peaceful you didn't notice yourself start to hum and softly sing the very song you were working on. Seungkwan asked you what song was stuck in your head, and you felt your soul leave your body. You tried lying by naming random songs, but Seungkwan had always been able to read you well, so he knew you were lying. You eventually gave in with slumped shoulders telling him you had made a song for him. He immediately asked to hear it, and you showed it to him returning back to the dorms. His voice trembled as he whispered words of gratefulness against your neck tenderly kissing the skin there as he sniffled trying to get his emotions together.

Seungkwan would demand to be on the song. He wanted to give back to you in some way, and he wanted to be a part of this beautiful song you created. It was a song he would always randomly sing laughing obnoxiously when the members asked him what song he was singing. He would sing it to you when you were near him tracing lines along your skin while smiling adoringly at you. He was just always singing the song.

Vernon

Song: Spring Memories - N.Flying

“Let’s fill each other’s empty spots I’ll comfort you just like we did back then

On that spring dazzling day

It won’t be like the first time but you’re always dazzling It’s like magic, on the same day So spring can eternally dazzle”

You sipped at the drink you had ordered at the café you and Vernon always met at, or more like walked up the counter and got asked “the usual” and you nodded while taking a seat in the corner of the quaint room waiting for Vernon. As always you wore a mask and hat. The café was in the quieter part of the city, but you could never be too careful. The barista who had long ago been able to recognize you had even given a dessert of your choice on the house. Deciding to work on the song you had been working on, your eyes didn't leave the screen of your laptop. 

You were confused when your vision suddenly went dark, but you were quickly able to recognize Vernon’s cologne. Grabbing a hold of his hands you turned around being met with his bashful yet bright smile. Slipping your headphones down to your neck, you got up to give him a hug. You had been tinkering with the lyrics, so they were on display on the screen. Vernon was facing the screen, and you didn't notice him reading the lyrics. It wasn't until a little bit after you sat down that he asked about the song. His eyes were filled with confusion. He mentioned that you never wrote love songs, usually being in charge of the more personal songs. “Well now that I have a wonderful muse to inspire me I can”. He asked if you were serious with a growing smile on his face. All your attention was on him now as you rested your chin on your hand softly nodding at him. He took in your answer and the warmth in your eyes not being able to stop himself from shoving his face into his hands to hide his flushed cheeks. You simply laughed taking his hand away to adoringly touch the tinted skin of his cheek before driving the conversation away from the song promising to send it to him when it was done.

When you did send the song to Vernon, someway, somehow, he would make it his ringtone. Proudly smiling when his phone rang and shaking his head when the members asked what song it was. This would actually give him the courage to show you all the raps he has written about you when he was too shy to show you before. 

Dino

Song: Life Is Rosy - Jess Penner

“I watch the sun, it's setting in your eyes Can you tell I'm wrapped up in your spell Yeah, it's all good and well I think I realize Beautiful yeah it's so wonderful Oh, darlin' don't you know That life is rosy Hey, look at my heart I think it's the start of something new“

Your knee wouldn't stop bouncing, your feet kept wiggling, and your fingers wouldn't stop tapping on your desk. You were nervous, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, and your stomach seemingly pushing against your ribs. Chan was going to visit you in the studio, and you were going to show him the song you had written while keeping him in mind. Of course, you had written many love songs before he came into your life, but this was different. Those songs were always inspired by childish assumptions you had on love because of inexperience.

This song was made with flashes of his smile and touch constantly flashing in your head. You groaned running your hands through your hair freezing when you heard a knock on your studio door. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, you opened the door relaxing when you saw Chan’s smile face as he greeted you with a hug and a playful poke at your abdomen. You timidly told him you had something to show him slipping your headphones onto his ears before dropping your hands to rest them on his shoulders. Turning around you caught your reflections on the mirror that rested against the wall. Him, a young but amazing dancer in the industry, and you, a young but talented producer in the same industry. You were so focused on the mirror you didn't see Chan taking off the headphones to turn the chair around and pull you into his lap. He would cling on to you tightly because wow he was so in love with you. Every flaw and every quirk he loved because it meant getting to see your smile and have you in his arms. His talented little producer was someone he swore he would never let go of.

Chan would be a bit quiet for a little bit, because he was just taking it all in. It suddenly weighed on him what you mean to him. You had become someone to him that he would drop anything for. Someone that always made his heart beat faster at close proximity, and no matter how he thought of it, he wouldn't change that for the world.

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Dolokhov/Hélène Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Dolokhov/Hélène playlist annotations!

I stole several songs from a playlist my friends have and I’m not gonna put those on this list, I won’t pretend I came up with those

The ship playlists (since they aren’t for canon couples) are very much based on my headcanons. We don’t get to see them interact literally ever so I’ve just extrapolated what I can. Several of these songs are at least alluding to sex, I don’t really think they actually slept together for various reasons I can enumerate if someone asks, but it’s more about the vibes of the song.

Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco

It’s literally in the title. Bestie how much more explanation do you need? I don’t even like this song but it’s got the right energy

Those Nights - Bastille

“Aren’t we all just looking for a little bit of hope these days? Looking for somebody you can wake up with?”

Being drawn to each other because of mutual loneliness is a Thing in my interpretation of their relationship, and this hits the nail on the head.

But It’s Better If You Do - Panic! At The Disco

“Praying for love and paying in naïveté”

Again, mutual loneliness and desperation for anything resembling love. Also the “isn’t this exactly where you like me” bit fits because they won’t admit to liking each other outside of their weird intimate moments.

Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco

“Drop our anchors in a storm”

The circumstances of their lives arent super fun at the moment so they find refuge in each other but in a very weird kind of unhealthy way! “We are a hurricane” sort of alludes to knowing that you’re causing problems/your relationship isn’t great.

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier

“I’m almost me again, she’s almost you”

It’s about not really being In Love but kind of convincing yourself you are because it makes you feel better in the circumstances. I don’t think either of them were fully into their relationship for various reasons. Not as in they didn’t want the other, more that they were both too aware it would never work for long.

Hall & Oates - Satchmode

“I want to be in love again, with you”

This one’s about wanting the idea of love and companionship more than you actually like the other person, which I feel like kind of fits. This song is framed as one person in love with the other and one hesitating, but i think this works for both of them to hesitate.

Feel Something - Jaymes Young

“Touch me, someone, I’m too young to feel so numb”

The I have tried like six times and I can’t word why I think this song works. I don’t even like it, I skip it every time, but I think it’s got something to do with loneliness and desperation for love driving them to look for it in places they wouldn’t normally? Who knows. Send me an ask if u do.

Another Place - Bastille

“Don’t make promises to me that you’re gonna break”

They could never actually be together for SO many reasons and I think they’re both pretty aware of that. They have no desire to pretend that their relationship is anything other than what it is (“we only ever wanted one thing from this”).

When You Were Young - The Killers

“You sit there in your heartache, waiting on some beautiful boy to save you”

I do not think Hélène expected Dolokhkov to save her from anything except maybe monotony and loneliness, but this song slaps and if I can stretch the lyrics to work, I will

broken - lovelytheband

“I could be lonely with you”

Almost every song on here (including this one) is just. We’re messed up and I know we won’t really find love in each other but we might find solace for a while and be less lonely so uhhhhh wanna kiss me or what

Bleed Magic - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

“You stand up, stand up, before I drag you down”

They are NOT good for each other! Toxic relationships uwu

Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

I believe in bi4bi Hélène/Dolokhov

Enemy Fire - Bea Miller

“Sweet words from a serpent’s tongue”

This song is kinda complicated and parts of it don’t fit but the energy of “everything sucks including you but at least we can hide from the suckiness together” is sorta there. Originally I just added it for the soldier vibes because I was testing out songs but I realized i can fit some of the lyrics so on the playlist it goes

Angel of the Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

“Her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean”

They are horrible and cold to each other as a love language. This song is essentially just “Wow my evil scary gf is so hot” and you’re right Fyodor. She is.

Shut Up and Dance - WALK THE MOON

I won’t lie this one’s mostly a joke, I just think the vibes of telling someone to shut up as (maybe because) you’re falling in love with them is Dolokhov/Hélène energy. Ignore all the parts about wanting to be with her forever and her being his destiny that is not why I added it.

Lone Ranger - Rachel Platten

“I’m just gonna leave, ‘cause baby I’m a lone ranger”

I do not think Dolokhov was intending to stay with her forever at all. Very rude of him. However, she probably also knew it wouldn’t last forever, she’s not stupid.

House of Memories - Panic! At The Disco

“Promise me a place in your house of memories”

This is very much post-duel, their relationship has fizzled out but it was pretty important (do I mean emotionally or to the plot? I’ll never tell) and deserves to be remembered.

American Beauty/American Psycho - Fall Out Boy

“I’m the best worst thing that hasn’t happened to you yet”

SO MANY of these lyrics are so good for them like. Hélène’s beautiful Dolokhov’s a psycho... “you take the full truth and you pour some out” can you imagine them being open and honest with each other? Yeah, me neither. “We were pity sex” They were just sad and lonely! That was what allowed anything to happen at all in my head (not sex but bear with me it’s not my fault those are the lyrics). “All those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep” because Hélène is married to someone else, they really have no right to think of each other that way.

Sk8er Boi - Avril Lavigne

“He wasn’t good enough for her”

UNIRONICALLY THIS SONG. Hélène’s complaints about Dolokhov staying with them are just the quoted lyric. “They had a problem with his baggy clothes” yeah Dolokhov’s not as rich and bougie and the rest of them and he’s certainly rough around the edges. And then the skater boy ending with a successful music career vs Dolokhov ending with a successful military career and a great reputation and both the women in the songs having sad endings...I’m not wrong.

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet - Fall Out Boy

“Does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band?”

The affair vibes. The AFFAIR VIBES. And the concept of “I will never end up like him [the husband]/ behind my back I already am” in reference to using Hélène and deciding he hates her right after deciding she’s hot...okay! I see you kinning Pierre, Dolokhov. You ARE being just like her husband :/

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi

“Shot through the heart and you’re to blame”

This is just Dolokhov’s massive I Hate Women monologue condensed. Stop blaming beautiful women for YOUR attraction to them maybe 🔫

Death Valley - Fall Out Boy

“Don’t take love off the table yet”

This is not a table sex joke this is not a table sex joke this is not a table sex joke this is n-

I didnt add it for that reason it was about a vibe but then. I realized. Now the original reason doesn’t even matter.

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner - Fall Out Boy

“I’ll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake”

Tell me the quoted lyric does not SCREAM Hélène/Dolokhov. You can’t. Also “I’ll weigh you down I’ll watch you choke/You look so good in blue” really captures hatred as a love language.

This is Love - Air Traffic Controller

Ok I stole this from my friends’ playlist but I did want to explain it because it’s not JUST Dolokhov and Hélène in my mind. The whole jealous fool second verse gives me Pierre around the duel energy as well

Bad Boy - Cascada

“Be my weekend lover but don’t be my friend”

Bernie Sanders voice I am once again asking you to hear me out about the unironic meme songs on my War and Peace character playlists. It’s got the refusal to admit that she actually likes hanging out with him down. The line “after some time you just pushed me aside” referring to Dolokhov teasing Pierre about their affair because he got bored. “I dont need you in my life again”...YEAH I’m fairly sure they dont interact in canon again after that.

Hayloft - Mother Mother

“My daddy’s got a gun”

This song started playing on accident once when I was listening to this playlist and I was like huh. It fits though. The gun thing is twofold: 1) Though he is not her father, Pierre does have a gun in the duel and 2) I think Vassily would happily shoot Dolokhov for his relationships with Vassily’s kids. It’s also just the general forbidden love vibes mixed with the violence vibes.

affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

“I’m looking for affection in all the wrong places and we’ll keep falling on each other to fill the empty spaces”

Have I been clear enough about my thesis that their relationship is based in mutual loneliness? Also, I like the acknowledgment that this is in fact the wrong place. I think they’re both very aware of that.

Walk Away - Franz Ferdinand

“Yes I’m cold but not as cold as you are”

This song is for them post-duel. Especially the “I cannot stand to see those eyes as apologies may rise/I must be strong, stay an unbeliever” because 1) I hear the word eyes, I think of Dolokhov and 2) I think she’s too smart to believe any apology he would give her, she knows he doesn’t really mean it. The song kinda reads as someone trying to convince themselves they’re happy that the relationship is over, which I think is definitely what happens for both of them.

Van Horn - Saint Motel

“Tell me do you hate me? Or do you wanna date me?”

Obsessed with the dynamic of “I like you but that’s embarrassing for both of us I’m gonna act like I hate you instead”

[x-exo]

*slides into your asks with a rose in my mouth* why hello, tis me!

Apologies for the long wait but your favorite long asks anon is here and OOF so much has happened. Let us break it down one by one lol

Monsta x our beans, welp we can officially say we are army wives for them because shownu is now at the military and just welp this feels weird lol. I lowkey forgot he was meant to enlist so when the news came out I went through so many emotions. Its why the latest comeback feels a bit bittersweet to me. It is their BEST for sure and for this year, I agree so to not see him perform right before he left is a bit sad. I don't blame him of course (if anyone does i am fish slapping you) but just a shame. I'm happy we do get content with him still? Seems pre-planned so that is nice!

Onto legends exo, fantastic comeback. I cannot stop listening to the album, its just bops full of bops to me. They broke so many records and I'm over here sipping my tea because fudge yes. It isn't a full member comeback, 2 of the members featured in the comeback are off playing call of duty and they still did THAT. While having lay properly in the comeback!? (Or at least some form, better than tempo era!) Kyungsoo my beloved, the man that can swoon you off your feet, his proper solo album. Omg I am just in love? The album feels like a Playlist that you hear while taking a walk or on a raodtrip? I love it, I just love everything about this with how much thought was given. It makes me feel warm and I'm so proud of him (I think he even got a first win) but sadly xiumin got the it shall not be named virus D: I feel so bad and I can only hope he gets better! It makes me worried because I keep seeing more and more idols getting sick and I can't help but wonder why don't the kpop entertainment just put a pause with stuff? Of course that is VERY unrealistic, I am aware that is naive for me to think but its just so idk how to word it properly (my English brain is not working I am sorry) I cannot help the feeling of while I get people are being safe and yes we need to still live like normal beings, is it worth risking idols health just for some entertainment? Idk how to explain my thoughts properly but maybe I hope I made sense!!

Onto svt! That is perfectly fine to not vibe with a comeback! I will admit, I didn't fully vibe with this comeback and it shocked me because every comeback was a hit to me. Even fear, left and right or homerun where I know many fans were split on, I liked but RTL was a grower. For me, listening to it without watching the mv, helped it alot and it is a song I like. Is it their best? No I don't think so but it is alright to say "hey I didn't bop to this, not my cup of tea" (imo I blame the mv? The mv REALLY didn't do the song justice at all, I am sorry if I sound like a fake fan but this mv Just is bad in all aspects. Sure we have some pretty shots but like it just doesn't fit at all?) So if anything listening to the song or wishing the live performances does it better. Seeing the choreography amps the song up more, cannot go wrong with their dancing. As for the rest of the songs, I admit game boy is my top favorite? Idk if it is because I am a gaming nerd and found all the production of the song so creative but yeah. We can wait for the next comeback! Svt always have something up their sleeves, plus we do have their music projects to look forward too (I wonder when we will get one? Seeing as RTL promotions stopped) some positive news with the boys is they resigned like a year before their contract ends and I'm a bit emotional :') I'm excited to see the boys future projects. We did have caratland recently! Did you watch it if I may ask? We did get in the soop confirmation so I'm excited to watch that, the boys deserve that nice break (even if it was filmed for a show fjsbsns)

Ok I think that is it for kpop updates? XD I do hope life has been treating you kindly! Life has been a bit all over the place sadly so I hope it wasn't like that for you as well! Until next time my bean!

hii!!!! omg sorry for the late reply i've been pretty busy these days 🙈

indeed so much has happened! and much more since you sent this ask omg!!

our shownu is at war *looks into the distance* *wipes away tear* *sighs* by now I got used to enlistment news (see what happens when you stan 2nd and 3rd gen groups) but STILL [[IT HURT]] when they uploaded the monchannel videos of his goodbye day like ????? what kind of twisted mind diuhdfuihdifuhs but the boys were all so cute and soft but they seemed so sad they didn't want to let go of their super leader :(( I hope he's learning lots and making new friends (and also we've got our international super spy yoo kihyun giving us small updates on him every now and then so everything's fine!). Yeah I totally get you it felt empty without him this comeback and at first it didn't really clicked with me but when the enlistment news came out i understood he had to take care of his health and thoroughly check on his eye sight in order to be 100% ready for the military so it made sense he had to be absent :( everything was so close (the comeback and enlistment) that I'm sure there was no other way for doing it I'm pretty sure he couldn't maybe postpone the enlistment day any further

onto exo! my ksoo my soft boi my romantic boi 🥺 his album is so him SO HIM i can't explain it bur it's just HIM you know it's the type of album you'd play on loop on a summer afternoon when you've taken your papers and paints outside in the garden to paint a bit with the warm soft breeze moving the trees lightly 🤧 and he signs in English and SPANISH (he did it for me) my multilingual king he's a native. Also I've been watching Honeymoon Tavern with Jongin these days and OMG i could d word for him really (if you haven's watched it go do it when you have time) he's SO SOFT and SO CUTE and he works as a waiter and a wedding planner and helps with the room preparations and is also a tour guide and he's just so cute so happy al the time the way he interacts with everyone is so 🥺🤧😭 onto more serious stuff now: yeah i was so worried about minseok catching covid omg but i'm glad he went through it with our any major complication and the rest of the boys are safe too! I guess the industry doesn't stop bc that would mean a huge loss of thousands and thousands of dollars/won/etc so as long as the gov doesn't prohibit going out or gathering like at the beginning of the pandemic, they'll keep on going with the idols' schedules otherwise the industry would just shut down having no way of earning money to sustain all the companies and idols.

as for seventeen! yeah i like the songs too! the mv sure ruined rtl and listening to it without watching it has really helped it grow on me more but still it feels kind of meh to me idk i really like anyone i think it's my favourite from the album. AND NOW WE'VE GOT A COMEBACK IN OCTOBER!!!! yayyyyy i can't wait they seem to be preparing very diligently (i hope they release a sexy bop) it's a shame junhao aren't gonna be present for this comeback but i'm soooooo happy they have the opportunity to visit their families again omg they have spent 2 whole years without seeing them in the flesh they must be so happy to get back to them again!!! it's so funny seeing them be bored at the quarantine hotel and doing lives every day duhdfiudhfiuh i hope it passes quickly and they can see their loved ones finally! and I did watch Caratland!! omg the unit switch song was the best thing ever hhu doing lilili yabbay and not being able to stop laughing idfuhdifuhs perf team doing chocolate and owning it????? hello??? performance team more like main vocal team wow! and the vocal team being a complete mess during check in lmaooo i loved it! In The Soop has finally started!!! I love these kind of "normal life" concepts I love seeing the boys being themselves cooking and relaxing I've watched the first and second eps as of today and also few clips from the third and omg mingyu and jeonghan drowning in the pond dfuhidfhidfs lmao they're so dumb i love them 🤣 i'm glad they could go away for a few days and spend time together away from their hectic schedules!

I hope you're well now and if not hang in there it'll all pass soon enough! 🥰💕 bye bye!!

p.s.: I got your request for the svt this or that gifset and i promise i’ll do it one day i just don’t feel like giffing these days dhbduusi i’m out of energy 

[obxfics]

Help me, Rhonda

summary: sarah cameron is getting married to topper, and y/n wants to help her friend get over his heartbreak

pairing: john b x reader

word count: 1,405

a/n: the 1960s AU absolutely no one asked for lmao. john b isnt present in this fic a whole lot (discussed a fair bit though) and inspired by listening to my 50s/60s playlist and the Beach Boys. thinking of making this a series of fics based off songs from the era. anyways, i hope you all like this! also why are john b gifs so hard to find

“You hear about Sarah and Topper?”

You and Kie had been having a pleasant night at the drive-in with your brothers when the boys insisted you two go get some snacks before the movie. The line was long, but it was fine. The movie wouldn’t start for a while anyways. It seemed the whole drive-in was packed with teens waiting to see How to Stuff a Wild Bikini for some beach party fun for the summer, and you knew the Pogues were especially excited after seeing the poster. JJ insisted there would be some sex, but everyone had just rolled their eyes at him. You all knew there wasn’t going to be anything like that, but you were still happy to go out and see it. Your good mood, however, was soon dampened by Kie’s question.

“Who hasn’t heard?” you replied as you drew your brother Diego’s old letterman jacket tighter around your body. “Half the island was rejoicing, and the other half was disappointed but not surprised. I mean, everyone knew a relationship between a Kook and a Pogue was never gonna last.”

Kie sighed as you took a few steps forward with the moving line. Your best friend kicked at the ground with her Keds and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping she’d stick with John B.”

“We all did, for his sake, but you can’t tell me that you didn’t know deep down that she’d end up marrying Topper. Their parents have been pushing that since we were in the third grade.”

“So, what, we were just her rebellious phase?”

You shrugged and dug around in the jacket’s pockets for the cash your oldest brother Christian had slipped in there.

“Every girl who lives on the Figure Eight has one at some point, right? How many did JJ get with last summer?”

“Come on, Sarah is our friend... did you really never believe she could have changed? That she was serious about John B?”

“Hi,” you greeted the boy behind the counter with a smile, “one large popcorn and four Cokes, please.” You turned to Kie as the boy turned to shovel popcorn into a bucket. “I think she was serious about John B, but she’s just a lot more scared of what her dad would do if she didn’t do what he says this time.”

“He’d probably kill John B.”

“Exactly. And we spend too much time at his place for him to be killed like that.”

She laughed as you slid the three dollars across the counter and grabbed the drinks. “So you’d only be upset if John B died because we wouldn’t be able to hang around the Chateau anymore?”

“Yes, ma’am, that is the only reason.”

“Has nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been crushing on him since sophomore year, right?”

“Kie, I already have one brainless surfer with amazing hair in my life. I don’t need another Diego, thank you very much.”

“Right, and I’m sure that game of spin the bottle at Sarah’s boy-girl party last summer had no effect on you.”

“Well... I didn’t say that.”

The two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles and tried to shush each other as you climbed into the bed of Christian’s Chevrolet where your brothers were waiting.

“Y’all took quite a long time,” Diego said. “Gossiping too much to get me my Swedish Fish, I assume.”

“It’s called the screening of How to Stuff a Wild Bikini and the whole island coming out to see it,” you snarked back before shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. “The line was super long, Diego.”

“Whatever.”

You rolled your eyes and snuggled close to Kie under the blanket she had brought. The movie was about to start anyhow, and you weren’t about to miss it. Pretty soon into the movie the four of you realized Frankie Avalon was not gonna be a big part, and your interest in it quickly dwindled.

“It’s just not the same,” Diego ranted as the credits rolled onscreen. “You can’t have one without the other!”

“I liked seeing Buster Keaton,” Christian said, trying to stay neutral as always.

“Was it just me, or was that movie not as fun as advertised?” JJ asked as he appeared beside the truck.

“Was it because you couldn’t really see Annette in her swimsuit?” Kie teased.

You let out a laugh and turned your attention to John B as Kie and Pope got into an argument with JJ about the movie.

“Hey there, stranger,” you greeted, bringing his gaze up to you. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

He offered you a bashful smile and looked down at his scuffed Chucks.

“JJ’s been taking me out surfing pretty much everyday, and whenever we stop at the diner, your pops says it’s not your shift,” he said. “It’s not like I’ve been avoiding you or anything.”

“Well now I’m starting to think you are,” you teased.

“It’s just been... you know.”

You looked at him and saw the bags under his eyes. He must not have been getting much sleep since hearing the news of Sarah’s impending nuptials. Going surfing everyday must have been JJ’s idea of taking his best friend’s mind off the heartbreak, but it did not seem to be working.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

His head snapped up at your question, and you could see the relief in his face. So you hopped out of the truck and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, let’s go have some fun.” You began dragging him away from the others.

“Wait, what about your brothers and Kie?”

“They’ll be fine. Probably. You need me more than they do, and they’re busy talking about the movie to even notice we’re gone.”

John B laughed a bit as you led him through the many cars and people still loitering at the drive-in.

“Do you even know where I parked the Volkswagen?”

“I was just hoping I’d stumble upon it eventually,” you admitted. “But please lead the way because I will get us lost.”

“Oh, I know, babe,” the pet-name slipped out easily and you didn’t think he even noticed. “Remember when you got lost trying to get to the diner from my place?”

“In my defense, it was dark.”

“It was three in the afternoon!”

“Alright, alright, I am terrible with directions, you know that.”

“Well, Miss terrible with directions, where are we headed?”

You climbed into the van that was parked at the edge of the drive-in and shrugged. You hadn’t really thought that far ahead if you were being honest. So you glanced at him and swept your arm in front of you.

“The world is our oyster, John B. Why don’t you take me to your favorite place on the island? A place that makes you happy.”

He looked over at you. “Why are you doing this?”

“Being a good friend?”

“I mean... I guess that but... we...” He couldn’t meet your eyes, cheeks completely aflame. “The other night, when I opened the wedding invitation, we... you know.”

You nodded and played with your fingers. You reached out to turn on the radio, smiling when it started playing the new Beach Boys song that came out earlier that year. Perfect.

“John B, you know this song, right?”

“Yeah, of course. JJ always requests it on the jukebox at the diner.”

“Okay, well, I’m trying to be your Rhonda, John B. Because seeing you in pain, hurts me too.”

“Why?”

“I don’t really think you’re in the right place emotionally to talk about the why, do you? Right now I just want to take you to where you’re happiest on this island and forget about everything else in the world.”

Your eyes met again in the dimly lit van, and you felt what you did the other night, when you had comforted John B after he’d realized the girl he loved was getting married to another man. Your lips met almost hesitantly, like neither of you were sure this was a line you were allowed to cross sober, but eventually he gained some more confidence. His hand came around to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw, and you sighed when his tongue swiped at your lips. When you pulled back for air, some of your lipstick was smeared all over his mouth, but he didn’t seem to care as he stared at you. His thumb rubbed your bottom lip, and a smirk pulled at his lips when you nipped at it.

“Alright, then. Help me, y/n. Get her out of my heart.”

[sendrickbecs]

Unspoken Feelings (3/8)

The heavy throbbing of her head makes the bedroom whirl around her. Is the world spinning? Beca sits up, quickly bringing her left hand to her forehead, pressing down on it as if it will release the tension. The intense dizziness is causing her stomach to churn which increases her urge to vomit.

Her eyes snap shut instantly, in attempt to decrease her hangover symptoms.

Beca inhales quickly, holding the breath, then exhaling. She repeats the breathing strategies a few more times until she no longer thinks she's going to vomit all over the floor. She doesn't want to recreate Aubrey's puking mess.

When her eyes flutter open again, it takes a minute for her to realise that she isn't in her own room, she's so naturally comfortable in the warm bed that she isn't even alarmed. The surroundings aren't unfamiliar, so she doesn't feel the need to get up and run away shamefully.

But then she looks to her right as she suddenly realises, she isn't alone in the bed.

The sight of her best friend lying next to her, with her left hand underneath her cheek and her gorgeous red hair sprawled out over her pillow, is absolutely breath-taking.

Her other hand is connected to the wrist that is resting on Beca's stomach. Beca didn't realise she was wrapped in Chloe's grip until now, and she has the urge to snuggle closer, loving the feeling of being so close to her best friend. But that isn't a thought someone should have about their best friend, so she hesitantly nudges Chloe's arm away.

After she sits up against the headboard, Beca reaches out to tuck a strand of Chloe's hair behind her ear.

She wants to appreciate the sight, because Chloe Beale really is her favourite thing to look at – to admire. Beca can deny it time and time again but she'll always come back to the same conclusion.

Chloe is her weakness.

Beca has never allowed herself to be vulnerable around others but the realisation that Chloe could literally break down every single one of her walls scares the absolute shit out of her.

She allows her gaze to drift around the room. Even though she shares the attic room with Amy, their room isn't much different to the other girls' bedrooms. She's spent a fair amount of time in Chloe's bedroom anyway, which is why she's almost surprised it took her so long to acknowledge that she woke up in her room.

In this moment it suddenly strikes her – why is she in Chloe's room?

What the fuck happened last night?

She tugs her hair down from the messy bun – she doesn't remember putting her hair up last night so Chloe must have done it for her, which is another example of why Chloe is literally the best person in the entire universe. Beca rakes her hand through her hair and takes note of the faint scent of alcohol. She's also pretty sure that she has sick in the front few strands, but she doesn't want to get into that right now.

Guilt runs through her accompanied by shame as she remembers the way she danced with Jesse last night in attempt to rid her feelings – if they even were feelings at all – for Chloe.

The events from the night before flood back to her and she's overwhelmed with...rage.

Beca isn't angry at Jesse for dancing with her because she was the one that asked, or at Chloe for messing with her head and confusing her, because Chloe isn't to blame.

She's mad at herself. She's so fucking angry at herself that she's allowing herself to feel this way about her best friend – her best friend who is beautiful, sexy, smart as hell and literally the most caring person on the planet.

Chloe Beale is way too good for her, so even if she was into girls there's no way she'll ever love her the way Beca longs for her to. The way Beca has loved Chloe since her freshman year.

She hates herself for the way she treats Chloe – hot one minute, cold the next. She only distances herself and runs from Chloe because it's all she's ever known. Leaving is the only thing she's good at.

There's no need for the walk of shame, but it's not like they had sex anyway. However, that doesn't mean she wants anyone seeing her leave Chloe's room early in the morning. Beca knows what her fellow Bellas are like – they love to make assumptions – especially about 'Bhloe'. It's bad enough that Stacie and Amy occasionally tease them by giving them a ship name and asking things like "When's the wedding?" and "Can I be the god mother of your child?" so there is no way Beca is going to let anyone see her leave Chloe's bedroom, it will only fuel their theories. They'll never let her live that down.

So instead of lying back down and falling to sleep like a part of her wishes she would do, she clambers out of the bed and moves across the room, careful not to knock into any of Chloe's things and cause a ruckus.

When she emerges from the attic stairs, she's met with an empty room, which half surprises her, but Amy not coming home is typical, especially after a treble's party.

Beca is tired, exhausted in fact, but there is no way she's going to be able to get back to sleep so she reaches for her precious laptop and headphones. She sets them on the edge of her bed as she fumbles through her clothes until she pulls out a pair of sweatpants, which she quickly changes into.

Her laptop and headphones are back in her grip as she trudges down the stairs towards the kitchen of the Bellas house. She slips the headphones around her neck and places the laptop on the counter.

As she's making herself some coffee, she acknowledges that it's only five in the morning, which is extremely early for someone who usually rises around midday.

Beca picks up her mug – one Chloe brought her last year – and carries it along with her laptop out the front door and on to the porch. Instead of sitting on the chair swing, Beca sits down on the steps, half leaning against the railing.

She lifts her headphones up and slides them on over her head, connecting the wire to her laptop and pressing play on the queued playlist. The music instantly relaxes her, she won't ever admit it but ever since Chloe requested a Taylor Swift song for the set, Beca has been pretty obsessed with her music.

But not even music can distract her from her thoughts, or more specifically, thoughts about Chloe.

She can't feel that way about her because she's her best friend. She loves her so much, but she can't be in love with her because if it ends badly – which Beca believes all her relationships will – then she'll lose her best friend.

At least with Jesse she's never cared for him the way she cares for Chloe, so if they fight or he gets mad at her, he can't hurt her the way Chloe can.

She doesn't know how much time has gone by since she came out here, but the playlist has ended, and her coffee is now stone cold. Beca has just been staring at a tree whilst she completely zones out.

She hears movement behind her which startles her out of her trance. Her head snaps to the side and she is met with Fat Amy holding a hot mug. She offers it to Beca, and she is quick to accept it considering how the one she made is now undrinkable.

"Are you working on a mix?" Amy asks, as she flops herself down on the porch swing.

"Uh, yeah?" Beca's already finished the mixes and set for the Bellas, and she isn't making anything new for her internship.

Recently her mixes have been kind of shitty, so she hasn't been able to add anything to her collection of mashups that she keeps for potential future use to show someone in the music industry if the opportunity comes up.

Normally Beca uses music as an escape, something to take over her thoughts if it gets too much for her, but right now her mind is elsewhere. Not even music can distract her from her own thoughts.

"Well, no...I'm just trying to figure some shit out." She says, trying not to admit too much about why she is really out here so early in the morning.

"Anything I can help with?" The blonde questions, whilst repositioning her arms behind her head so she's now leaning against them.

"No."

Beca's lack of hesitation sparks a hint of confusion in Amy's thoughts. "You sure? I'm your best friend, you can talk to me about anything." She says, completing it with a grin.

The brunette scoffs lightly, "Well, actually-"

"Mitchell, I know you love ginger more than me, but you don't need to say it out loud and break my heart," Amy jokes.

She almost wants to deny it, because lately the way she feels about Chloe is weird. Beca doesn't understand it, but instead of unpacking it slowly and acknowledging her feelings, she forces her thoughts about Chloe to the back of her mind. But no matter what, Chloe is her best friend, that will always come first.

Beca forces herself to chuckle, "It's just some stuff at the studio."

. . .

When Chloe finally stirs, a few hours after Beca's departure, she reaches her hand out for her best friend, but instead she's met with an empty, cold bed.

She instantly misses Beca's warmth even though she doesn't know how long she's been gone. She can also faintly smell Beca's perfume. Chloe sometimes thinks she's sprayed it around the house just to taunt her. In a way it's like Beca is still always around even when she's being distant or hanging out with Jesse.

Beca is always there and Chloe can't seem to escape her – but she isn't sure that she'd want to even if she could. For Chloe, Beca is her literal will to live. Seeing the smile on her best friend's face is what keeps Chloe going, so without her, life would be pretty damn pointless.

But waking up to an empty bed, knowing that Beca has left her once again, sends a punch to her gut.

Chloe knows she should just take that as a sign, that Beca doesn't want her, not when they're both sober anyway. When the small brunette's feisty attitude is combined with alcohol, she becomes needy – and very touchy. Chloe doesn't mind it, in fact, she kind of really likes it. Beca initiates the hugs and reaches for Chloe's hand to hold. Beca is a lot less clingy when she's sober so Chloe takes advantage of the moments where Beca wants to touch Chloe. She knows she should feel even the slightest pang of guilt for enjoying these moments, but it's not like she's forcing the alcohol down the younger woman's throat.

However, Chloe's thoughts can't help themselves, she assesses the situation once more. Beca had chosen her bed to sleep in last night, to cuddle with her and to wake up next to her. She could have gone to her own bed or any of the other Bellas. But she wanted Chloe. That has to mean something, right?

Chloe is most definitely a morning person, yet this morning she has to fight the overwhelming urge to stay in bed, wrapped up in her blankets all day.

Once she's out of the shower, and dressed in suitable clothing for Bellas rehearsals, she heads downstairs.

When the kitchen comes into view and she hasn't spotted Beca yet, she feels somewhat relieved, she knows Beca will pretend like last night never happened, but Chloe just can't let it go that easily.

She must jinx herself because not even five seconds later, Beca's voice runs through the bottom floor of the house.

"I swear to god, you can't even have anything to yourself in this house."

Chloe acknowledges the anger in Beca's tone and instantly wants to help her or calm her down – something only Chloe can do – so she rushes towards the kitchen. Beca is pacing around the room with her hands flying about frantically.

"What's up, Becs?" Chloe quizzes, attempting to keep her tone calm which is surprisingly hard as she watches Beca get worked up over something. Beca is her friend and she doesn't like seeing her upset.

"Someone ate my fucking ice cream." Beca mumbles, but the look in her eyes tells Chloe that this isn't just about ice cream. There is something much bigger bothering her.

"Um...Bec." Chloe looks at Beca with her most precious puppy dog eyes and a small smile, almost begging Beca to forgive her for something she hasn't even apologised for yet. In her defence, she was mad at Beca for disappearing when she needed her best friend.

Beca can't deny that Chloe's adorable expression got to her – it always does. "Yeah, Chlo?"

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Beca quizzes, still not understanding what exactly Chloe was apologising for.

Chloe sighs, and drops her gaze to the floor, ready for whatever Beca was about to throw at her – metaphorically and physically. "It was me. I was the one that ate your ice cream."

"Girl fight!" Cynthia Rose comments as she makes her way into the kitchen towards Fat Amy.

The brunette chuckles softly which causes Chloe to lift her head. "Dude, you should have told me, now I look like an idiot." Beca sits down at the table and lifts her mug to her lips.

"Wait...so you aren't mad?" Chloe asks.

Beca meets Chloe's gaze so both pairs of blue eyes are staring into each other's.

Although the shades of blue are quite different, they fit together so well, just like the ocean and the sky. Beca and Chloe are compatible; the light and dark shades of blues in their eyes harmonise together in the most perfect way.

Beca's expression softens into a smile, just for Chloe. "Course not. It's just ice cream." She shrugs.

"What?" Fat Amy yells, which earns three glares. Her volume is way too loud for this time in the morning, considering how a majority of the Bellas are still asleep. Although Amy's probably woken them all up with her shouting.

Beca tosses her head to the side and gives Amy a pointed glare. "Why are you being weird?"

"You were just about to rip my head off and it wasn't even me, but when Chloe comes forward and says she ate it all you have to say is 'it's just ice cream.' Beca, what-"

"She wasn't feeling well. Ice cream helps with the flu. She's better now so it must have done the trick." Beca smirks but dials it down a notch when she sees Amy raise her eyebrows.

Chloe's heart skips a beat at the thought of Beca taking care of her. Beca has always taken care of her in her own way – she buys Chloe her favourite food when she's on her period, she offered her shoulder to cry on when Chloe had Tom trouble back in Beca's freshman year and Beca makes numerous mixes for Chloe whenever she's feeling down.

There have been so many times where Beca has cared for Chloe, but Chloe wishes that Beca could really take care of her, that they could take care of each other.

She wishes they could cuddle in one of their beds, or on the couch when watching a movie with the other Bellas.

She wishes Beca would trust her enough, so she doesn't have to lie to her anymore.

And finally, she wishes they could care for each other's sexual needs, because the Bellas were probably getting tired of hearing Titanium blast from Chloe's room.

Titanium is kind of their song, Beca might not know this but whenever Chloe listens to it, Beca takes over her mind. It's the thought of Beca that drives her towards her climax.

The brunette twists, focusing her entire attention on Chloe, ignoring the questioning glances between Amy and Cynthia Rose. "You are okay now, right?" She asks the older girl. Her expression softening as she waits for Chloe to confirm that she is okay – that they are okay.

Chloe's face lights up at Beca's obvious concern. Now she knows that Beca was actually worried about her. The past few days she spent in her room she had been assuming that Beca didn't want to be around her because she didn't care that Chloe was supposedly sick. But if Beca knew, then why wasn't she here? Just seeing the younger girl would have made her feel better instantly.

She nods quickly, and watches as Beca's shoulders drop slightly, relaxing them as she lets out a breath. Beca smiles at her and the expression is mirrored by the redhead.

The sudden need to be close to Beca, fuels through the older girl so she takes a couple of steps forwards until she's standing directly in front of her.

"Where'd you go?" Chloe mumbles, "I thought you would still be asleep."

"I was just working on some of my mixes." Beca says after taking a bite of toast, then returning the half-eaten slice to the plate.

Chloe reaches for the plate and lifts the toast up to her mouth, taking a bite then offering it back to Beca. She accepts the toast and takes another bite, smaller this time.

"You know I can make you your own toast if you're hungry?"

"No, I'm good." Chloe replies with a smirk, "I'd rather share yours."

Beca eats one more bite of the toast before holding it out for Chloe. The older girl gives Beca a playful smile then opens her mouth, wanting Beca to feed her instead. The brunette grins and rests the toast against Chloe's bottom lip, looking up at her with a wide smile.

"Get a room, you two." Fat Amy yells, which startles both girls, pulling them from their own little world where only the two of them exists.

Chloe reaches her hand up and takes the toast from Beca. The pink tinge on her cheeks suggest she's just been caught in the middle of a sexual act, not sharing toast with her best friend.

Once she's finished the toast she spins on her heels and reaches into the fridge for a bottled water and instantly unscrews the lid. The cool water is refreshing, and it manages to calm her down, she just hopes that the blush on her cheeks has faded.

"Can I hear them? Your mixes." Chloe asks eagerly once she's turned back to Beca.

The brunette hasn't looked away from Chloe since she entered in the kitchen, but when Chloe meets her gaze, she knows she's been caught staring, so she averts her eyes.

"Later?"

"Okay." Chloe nods, along with a squeal of excitement. Usually when Beca produces a new mix, Chloe is the first person to listen to it, unless it's about her – Beca doesn't show those to anyone, she just transfers them to a USB and adds them to her collections. She has too many mixes dedicated to her co-captain than she'd like to admit. "After rehearsal?"

Beca goes to accept, but then remembers that Chloe hasn't been feeling well recently and she doesn't want her to strain her vocal cords, her nodes damaged them enough. "Are you feeling up to it?"

Once again Chloe's heart swells at Beca's caring tone. "I could ask you the same thing. You drank quite a lot." She giggles at Beca's frown.

"I'm okay if you're okay."

Chloe smiles at Beca's choice of words. Beca is saying she'll only be okay if Chloe's okay, so if Chloe wasn't then would Beca not be either? The brunette's words are not helping, in fact they're just making her feelings towards her more prominent. "I'm okay." Chloe says, and she has the desire to ask, 'Are we okay?' but she pushes it down, too afraid of the answer.

Chloe nears the counter, selecting two mugs from the cabinet and filling up the kettle. She twists to face Beca once more. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Yes please," Beca answers, a smile growing on her face at the offer of coffee. She's already had two cups this morning but definitely won't say no to one more, especially to Chloe.

"Okay, you go shower, I'll bring it up to you." Chloe says, before turning back to work on the drinks.

Beca jumps up from her seat at the table and takes her plate over to the dishwasher. "Alright, thank you. Just don't barge into my shower." She teases, with a growing smirk on her face.

"Beca Mitchell!" Chloe squeaks as she spins around, blushing just like she was a few minutes ago.

"Sorry Beale, I'll try not to sing titanium too loudly." Beca jokes, letting out a laugh at the effect her words had on the older girl. It's as if Beca could hear Chloe's earlier thoughts.

"You better not, we might be late for rehearsals if you do." Chloe fires back, fighting the urge to invite herself into another one of Beca's showers.

Beca smirks at Chloe's response, deep down wishing that she'd take her up on the offer to join her in the shower, but before Beca can dwell on it, she pushes it to the back of her mind and hurries up the stairs.

Chloe can't resist the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips, curling upwards and breaking out on her face.

"Tonerrrrr." Fat Amy sings, with a growing grin.

"Shut up." Chloe says, but doesn't deny it which doesn't go unnoticed by the two other Bellas in the room, "I'll make you do extra cardio."

"No thanks, Boss. I'm good. Sorry Boss."

. . .

Throughout rehearsals, the co-captains were back to being Beca and Chloe.

Beca carried Chloe's bag into the auditorium even though she had her laptop bag and gym bag as well. Chloe encouraged Beca to join in the cardio, which she normally skips with the excuse of needing to set up the speakers.

As Beca leant over her laptop, Chloe found herself staring at her more than once, admiring her in her element. Beca was the same, she'd watch Chloe run through the routines with the other girls, staring at her ass and her biceps every now and then.

The two were synchronised once again.

Everyone seemed so much more relaxed now the tension had drifted.

But then Beca danced with Chloe.

The lingering contact and the passionate dance moves were just too much for her.

It was overwhelming Beca, and she began to panic. The thoughts running through her head weren't right and definitely not PG, she felt hot all over, and her head throbbed. She just needed a second to breathe.

Thank fuck Chloe decided to call the end of rehearsals.

Beca isn't listening to the multiple conversations between the other girls, she's completely zoned out, focusing on not fainting. Her heartbeat has quickened, and her hands are clamming up.

Her breathing still isn't back to its normal rate, but she's not just out of breath from the choreography. Beca's breathing is unsteady and it's starting to panic her. She begins to feel like the walls of the auditorium are closing in on her as she rocks to herself in one of the chairs.

She clenches her eyes shut tight, and grips onto her legs with both hands, squeezing hard so she can focus on the pressure. But it's still not enough because her breathing doesn't differentiate.

The volume of the auditorium does shift, however, and Beca realises that the Bellas must have left, but she doesn't dare open her eyes. The noise must have been a pretty big factor to Beca's panic attack because she's slowly starting to breathe at a steadier pace. Although, she is still far from calm.

The brunette acknowledges Chloe's presence instantly, she can smell her – Beca doesn't have time to analyse how stalkerish that sounds because a sob rakes from her chest, which takes her completely by surprise.

The chair beside her squeaks slightly, and a hand falls onto her knee before it moves up and rests on top of one of her own hands. "Hey Bec," Chloe's soothing voice reaches her ears. After a few seconds she releases the grip on her legs.

"Take my hand." She says, and Beca instantly grips onto the hand offered to her. "You're okay, Becs. I've got you."

Beca finds comfort in the words and she latches on to Chloe's hand for dear life, too afraid of what might come if she lets go.

The two girls sit together in silence as Chloe guides Beca through her panic attack, helping her breathing pattern get back to normal then working on her senses.

It takes Beca ten more minutes to calm down and finally open her eyes. When she does, she's met with the beautiful ocean blue eyes, they are slightly glistening with unshed tears, almost mirroring her own.

Chloe's smile isn't as bright as usual, but it's still enough to reassure Beca that everything will be fine. Beca genuinely believes that everything will be fine as long as Chloe Beale is here.

"Are you okay?" Beca nods and takes the water bottle that Chloe offers her, gulping down at least a third of the water before reapplying the cap.

"Sorry." She whispers, as she stares at the ground.

Chloe's face saddens. Beca did nothing wrong yet she still feels the need to apologise, which makes the older girl acknowledge just how frightened Beca is to let her guard down around people. She is terrified of people judging her for things that are beyond her control.

"Hey, don't be sorry." Chloe says, as she intertwines their fingers, "I'm just glad you're okay. You scared me a little back there."

"Uh, yeah. I get them sometimes." She explains, "Thanks for helping me through it."

"I'll be here whenever you need me, Becs. If you have a panic attack again, please call me and I'll come straight to you."

Beca doesn't like to rely on people, she never really has, because everyone leaves at some point. Even the people you believe will stay in your life forever walk out of it and never return. But there's something about Chloe that makes Beca trust her entirely. Chloe is the first person in Beca's life that she trusts will never leave her, but that scares her more than anything, because if one day she does leave, that will hurt her more than she can imagine, it will leave her broken and shattered to pieces, the pain will be worse than anything she's ever felt before and she never wants to let that happen to her.

So that's why Beca distances herself from Chloe, so she can be the one to leave if times get tough.

Before Beca can process what's happening, Chloe's arms are wrapping around her waist, bringing her close into a hug. Beca scoots closer to Chloe and puts her own hands on Chloe's back.

Chloe is always so caring, and Beca feels like she always throws it all back in her face.

"The girls are back at the house setting up for the movie night." Chloe mentions after they've collectively packed up Beca's equipment. The Bellas left around half an hour ago so they're probably wondering where their captains are. Beca always has something to say about the Bellas movie nights so when she doesn't respond, Chloe knows she still isn't okay. "Are you coming?"

Everyone that knows Beca, knows she doesn't like to be smothered, but it's hard for Chloe not to be overprotective and worry about her when she's just witnessed Beca look so scared.

"No can do, I have a shift at the radio station." Beca mumbles quietly, as she secures the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder.

"I thought you stopped working there when you got your internship?"

"I did," Beca confirms, "but Luke asked me to be in charge for a few days and I kind of owe him a favour."

Chloe knows Beca is lying, but if she calls her out on her bullshit it might cause an argument and she really doesn't want to argue with her best friend. She knows Beca must be feeling emotionally drained after her panic attack and that she needs some time alone to recover from being so vulnerable with another person. Chloe understands, but she wishes that Beca didn't have to feel that way, she just wants Beca to relax in her arms and feel comfortable enough with her to let out her emotions.

But Chloe knows that's just not who Beca is. Not even with her.

. . .

As soon as Beca walks out of the auditorium she knows exactly what her night has in store for her. She needs to get drunk – so fucking drunk that her mind shuts up for one second. She needs not to feel because it's too overwhelming. And she needs to stop thinking, just for one fucking night.

She sits down in a bar stool rather abruptly, which catches the attention of one of the bartenders.

"What can I get you?" He asks, as he approaches her.

"Whiskey. Neat." Beca says, already digging into her back pocket for some cash.

She downs the drink as soon as the bartender hands it over, then asks for another, which he raises an eyebrow at but pours it anyway. Beca does the same for that one then pushes the glass over to him, with only the ice remaining.

"Can I get a beer?"

"Sure." He nods and reaches for one of the bottles under the bar, cracking it open before passing it to her. She hands over enough cash to cover the three drinks and then settles back in her chair.

She doesn't stop at three, but after five she stops counting.

Beca is a very big lightweight so it doesn't take her long to get absolutely wasted.

The very reasoning for getting drunk in the first place is actually the reason she leaves the bar. Chloe is still all she can think about, the redhead is possessing her mind and she can't stop her thoughts.

"I'm so fucking stupid!" Beca mutters to herself as she drags her feet towards the Barden University campus. She still has her laptop bag fitted on her shoulder, which she guarded possessively at the bar, not letting it out of her sight in case someone spilt a drink on it or attempted to steal it.

All Beca can think about right now is how she wishes she was back at the Bellas house, in Chloe's arms.

Most people have that one person they think about when they're drunk, and for Beca, that person is Chloe. But it's not just when she's drunk, Chloe is in her sober mind constantly. She wishes she could fixate on something else for once but all Beca seems to think about – to care about – is Chloe.

She needs Chloe right now – not even really in a sexual way – she just wants Chloe to hold her and kiss her and run her hand through her hair. It isn't badass at all but Beca doesn't give a shit about her badass reputation anymore. Chloe saw through it right from the beginning.

Her thoughts are still drilling through her mind when she walks up the steps of the Bellas house. She's been so distracted that she hadn't even realised she got here; she can't even remember walking across campus.

Luckily, the door is still unlocked so she slips inside but it slams rather loudly when she closes it.

It's definitely the alcohol talking when she whispers to the door to 'shut up,' because it's 'going to wake everyone up.' Beca manages to stumble across the kitchen until she barges into the table, knocking over a chair which slams to the floor. She jumps backwards, kicking the table leg in the process.

"Fucking motherfucking shit." Beca hisses as she lifts up her foot and hobbles around the room whilst cradling her foot in her hands.

"Um...Beca? Are you okay?" The voice startles her so her body jolts upright. She snaps her head behind her and meets Stacie's gaze. She's standing in her very revealing pyjamas with her phone in her hand.

"Just peachy." Beca says, with a chuckle.

Stacie steps forwards and glances down at the chair lying on the kitchen floor. "Are you drunk?" She questions as she stands the chair back up.

"No. I am Beca."

That is all the confirmation Stacie needs, "Where have you been? This isn't like you at all."

"Who the hell even am I, dude? Who even am I when I'm not with her? Or who am I when I'm with her? Am I me with her or is she me with her...no, wait? I am me with her, but I don't know if I like that. It scares me how real I am with her, that is the real Beca Mitchell."

Stacie's eyebrows knot in confusion, "Beca, what are you talking about? I didn't understand anything you just said."

"I think I love her." Beca blurts out.

"Oh shit." Stacie chuckles, but stops when she acknowledges the pain on the small brunette's face. "This is all because of a girl?"

Beca lets out a loaded sigh, then nods, "Yeah. She's a girl. But I'm not gay...or maybe I am. Who knows?"

Stacie opens her arms, "Come here," she says, whilst holding back a laugh at Beca's expression. She's frowning and her face is all creased up.

"Why?" Beca groans.

"You could do with a hug." Stacie shrugs, "And you're pretty drunk, I don't want you to knock over anything else."

The smaller girl crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't want a hug. I want a hug from...but I keep on fucking up."

"No, you don't." Stacie says, which doesn't seem to reassure Beca at all. The taller girl follows her over to the couch and they take a seat at either end.

"She's beautiful, she's a beautiful panda and I...god, what am I doing?" She rakes her left hand through her hair whilst letting out a shaky breath.

This is a side of Beca that Stacie has never witnessed before, and it's kind of making her nervous. Whenever Beca is stressed or freaking out about something – it doesn't happen that often because Beca is pretty chill – Chloe is always the one to comfort her, so Stacie has no idea what to do.

She decides that sleeping it off is probably the best option. "Beca?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe you should get some sleep, think this over in the morning. Your beautiful panda will still be here in the morning." Stacie's attempt doesn't completely fail but mentioning Beca's 'beautiful panda' is probably not the best thing to say.

"She is really beautiful." Beca mumbles, her tone so soft as she talks about Chloe.

"So you've said." Stacie nods, with a smile. She's always known Beca's badass exterior was just for show and now she finally has a reason to believe that Beca is a big softie. She's falling in love.

Beca stands up rather suddenly, "I think I'm going to tell her."

Stacie groans at Beca, standing up too, just in case she has to be prepared to chase after the small brunette. "Have you just ignored everything I just said to you?"

"No." Beca grunts in response.

"Go to bed, Beca." She demands. Her tone is rather authoritative – she learnt a lot from Aubrey in her freshman year, including how to sound like a bitch in charge. "You can talk to her in the morning when you're not drunk."

Stacie helps Beca up the remaining stairs leading to the attic room. Luckily, she's as light as a feather because Beca was practically leaning her whole weight on Stacie so she was basically carrying her up the flight of stairs.

Fat Amy is already in her bed asleep, which is a surprise because most nights she disappears until the morning, claiming she was on a night time hike, which nobody believes because Amy is not one for exercise – she only vertical runs when she is escaping cardio, which is pretty ironic.

The small brunette flops onto her bed, making no attempt to change out of her jeans into something more comfortable.

Stacie places her hand on Beca's lower back and the other on her hip and tries to roll her over but Beca groans and kicks her legs about frantically. "Get your hands off, dude. I'm not the mega bitch."

"Mitchell, shut up!" Stacie whisper-yells, then pauses when she acknowledges what Beca has just said. "Wait, how did you know about-"

"Posen isn't exactly quiet."

A smirk appears on Stacie's face, "I know."

"Dude. Ew!"

"Where are your sweatpants?" The leggy brunette questions as she kneels down next to Beca's dresser, pulling out her first and second drawers but still not finding the clothing she's looking for.

"Second to bottom drawer." Beca mumbles, as she watches Stacie search through her clothes until she pulls out a pair of sweatpants that used to belong to Chloe before Beca borrowed them and never returned them to her.

Stacie launches the sweatpants across the room, and they land close to Beca's head. She grunts out a "Thanks," as she slips out of her jeans, too drunk and too tired to care that Stacie is still in the room. She slides into the sweatpants and strips her bra, then nestles under the blankets, ready for the sleep to overtake her thoughts.

Beca is known to disobey orders, especially from those giving her demands, so Stacie stands at the top of the stairs until Beca is consumed by sleep.

"You're in quite the shit my friend." Stacie whispers before disappearing down the attic stairs, heading towards hers and Emily's room.

- - - -

also on wattpad: @writteninbechloe 

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Eleven

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

**I've been asked and here it is! This story has a playlist on Spotify under the same title as the story made by Kelly with the same profile picture! If you have any trouble let me know. There will also be one for my other story Falling In Love Through The Phone**

*playlist link (I think)*

Louis walked into the kitchen confused as he looked around the house. Harry was only in the Halloween sleep pants he had slipped on after they decided to get out of bed.

"Where is everyone?" Louis asked walking up behind Harry and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Oh, Liam and Niall offered to take the dogs on a walk and Freddie asked if he could go too. I told them I didn't know how you'd feel considering you just met them, and Zayn and Amy offered to go along so I agreed. And before you worry, they completely understood and were not offended at all. They left about ten minutes ago. Freddie has taken to Niall though; Niall was showing him my guitars and how to play them. Niall has already promised a kid guitar as a Christmas gift for both the kids."

"Anyway, we can convince him to take it back and claim he couldn't find any?" Louis asked.

"Afraid not. Freddie was too excitedly about it and I don't break little hearts."

"Only little ones?" Louis teased.

"Well, you are little- Ow! Not the nipples." Harry said turning to face Louis and wrap his own arms around him, "come on I have a surprise for you."

"Oh, you do. What is it?" Harry didn't answer just kept his arms around him as he led them towards the second living room making Louis walk backwards. Louis tried to look but Harry turned him around and covered his eyes, "what? Harold!"

"Relax you'll be fine." Suddenly he was stopped and shifted around then the hands were removed. When he looked, he noticed they were in the small sunroof with breakfast laid out on a blanket and candles that filled the room with a beachy scent and a record player playing at a low volume.

"What is this?" Louis asked.

"It's breakfast silly. Don't mind the half-eaten waffle Freddie demanded it." Louis laughed as he watched Harry grabbed the plain half eaten waggle off a plate and toss it into the main hall as if it never was there, "I really hope that wasn't in the photos I took."

"It adds character." Louis said grinning as he kissed Harry's cheek, "thank you this is great if with the decor Freddie added makes more special."

"Look I'm trying to impress you I don't need Freddie to show me up with his talents." Louis shook his head as he led Harry into the room by his hand making him sit down first then he slotted himself between his legs leaning back against his chest, "look I even dug out my fancy tea set." Harry said excitedly as he showed off his baby blue floral teacups and saucers.

"Very fancy. I practically feel like royalty." Louis said grinning widely, "since I'm royalty i absolutely cannot pour my own tea you'll have to simply do it for me."

"Ah yes how dare I make you lift a single finger." Harry said kissing his hand that he was holding while the other hand poured the tea carefully. Louis absolutely refused to admit he giggled when Harry maybe a clinking sound on accident, "Shhh it didn't happen."

"Oh yes my mistake." Louis said grabbing a chocolate drizzled fruit kabob, "I heard not a thing."

"Exactly." Harry said pressing a kiss against his cheek as he grabbed his own kabob, "who says romance is dead with kids."

"The half-eaten waffle decor definitely says something." Breakfast was finished between laughter and sips of tea, but that apparently wasn't all Harry had planned. He was up and changing the record to something else. When the vinyl was in and the needle was moved Harry pulled Louis up to his feet.

"Dance with me."

"Dance with you to what?" Louis asked skeptically even if he did wrap an arm around Harry and slide his hand in his free one. Before Harry had a chance to respond Shania Twin filled the room and Louis grinned, "I knew I was marrying a man with good taste. Though I must say I'm shocked it's not Abba."

"Oh, don't worry they're in the list of potential wedding songs. After all we do have quite the story to tell with our first dance. Who knows maybe Abba tells it better than Shania. Hard to believe I know, but it's possible." Louis didn't even deem that worthy of a response especially when the introduction ended, and the first words started to play.

Looks like we made it Look how far we've come, my baby We mighta took the long way We knew we'd get there someday

They said, "I bet they'll never make it" But just look at us holding on We're still together, still going strong

You're still the one I run to The one that I belong to You're still the one I want for life You're still the one that I love The only one I dream of You're still the one I kiss goodnight

Louis grinned as he and Harry sang along with the lyrics, Harry's voice mending with his perfectly as they did a simple step and sway slow dance. His hand slid in Harry's hair pulling him down for a soft slow kiss and neither of them noticed when the others came back and stood in the doorway. Louis pulled away and gently guided Harry into a spin making them both laugh before their lips met again then it was Louis' turn to spin. As the last words were sung, they're lips touched again with emotion that seemed too strong with how little they knew each other, but Louis pushed it aside jumping when their friends 'awww'd loudly causing both of them to turn and see them standing there. Liam had Freddie on his shoulders and Niall had his phone out recording them.

"You two are so cute. I'm sending this to your mother Harry." Niall said as he walked away typing something on his phone, "don't worry I'm sending it to you two as well."

"We should get dressed. Busy day today, you go ahead, and I'll clean up."

"You sure?" Louis asked.

"Yes, now leave." Harry said gently pushing Louis towards the door.

"Alright come on Freddie let's get you ready as well mister Jammies." Louis said taking Freddie groaning slightly, "You're getting big kid."

"Liam says I'm light."

"Yeah, for him he has biceps the size of China. We don't listen to him." Louis grumbled hearing the lads laugh as he walked away.

****

Shopping was Harry was different than he expected or imagined. Since Harry didn't worry about money Louis had assumed Harry just tossed things in without much thought process and just swiped his card without worry. Turns out he was very wrong. Everything Harry bought he had a purpose for which really shouldn't have surprised Louis now that he thought about it. Though Harry also pretended not to notice when Freddie snuck snacks into the cart and buried them under things and Louis didn't say anything wishing for Harry to stop him when it was enough. Freddie was currently on his tenth box and Harry was reading the back of a noodle box as if it weren’t just a box of noodles that he had in his cupboards at the house. When Freddie had successfully hidden it only then did Harry coincidentally finish as well and put it in the cart pretending to not notice the junk food in his cart.

"What?" Harry asked innocently when Louis continued to stare at him, "I was reading the ingredients making sure they hadn't changed it."

"Uh huh. I'm not saying anything. It’s all on you this time." Harry looked betrayed but then he sniffed and turned away from Louis.

"Fine. I can totally say no when I need to." Harry said grabbing a few different boxes of pasta before he pushed the cart down a different aisle.

"Papa." Freddie whispered tugging on Louis' hand.

"Yes?"

"Harry needs cookies."

"Oh, he does?" Louis asked looking at Harry who was humming as he quickly grabbed two of the same jams and read the backs of them as if they were different.

"Yeah, but we have to be sneaky about it. I am a break hider with Harry because he reads a lot unlike you so we can sneak in a lot I bet."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, and I reckon if we guess his favorite, he won't say no no matter how many we bring back, so I think we being back one of each."

"Wow you thought this one through. One of each you said." Louis said looking at Harry who started pushing the cart forward, "hey Haz."

"Yes, my darling?" Harry asked innocently as he looked back at them.

"Freddie and I are going to go look around you uh...have anything to say to us?"

"Have fun. Make smart choices." Harry said before he hurried down the aisle, Louis shook his head as he grabbed Freddie's hand and followed him down to the correct isle.

Harry didn't question it when Freddie practically begged that he and Louis unload the cart while Harry stood with his back to the belt. Louis shook his head glad he had sneakily snuck out the snacks he knew Freddie wouldn't miss or have eaten while Freddie and Harry had been picking fruits and vegetables. Harry didn't even question why there was ten boxes of random snacks in the produce section as he kept Freddie distracted by letting him push the cart.

"You're welcome." Louis had whispered.

"No idea what you are talking about."

"Uh huh." Harry grinned turning to peck him on his lips but never admitted to anything.

"Papa I think some things fell out but that’s okay. I think he would have noticed if we had too much." Freddie whispered.

"I think you're right. It must have fallen out when we helped rearrange the cart." Louis whispered back.

"Yeah, I think so too."

The cashier was grinned as she swiped the junk food boxes after having swiped the things Harry and Louis had picked out for dinners and lunches. The last fifteen items were obviously picked by a child and was obviously a 'secret'. She even played along by double bagging the items and sneakily handing them over the belt with a wink. Louis then pushed the cart ahead and started putting the bags in the cart while Harry paid for the groceries grinning. When everything was packed Louis moved ahead out of the way and helped Freddie put on his jacket. When Harry came over shoving his wallet and receipt into his pocket Freddie was  ready to go out to the chilly October weather. When they got to the Murano Louis got Freddie into the booster first then went around and helped Harry finished packing everything. When they were back in the Murano Louis made sure Freddie was strapped in correctly before he buckled himself.

The drive to the apartment building was short and when Harry parked, he kept the Murano running and leaned over to kiss Louis on the lips.

"I'll be back."

"Okay we'll be here." Harry got out and hurried inside the building to escape the chilly breeze that accompanied the end of October. He hurried inside the elevator and pressed the fifth-floor button and then to room 409, He pulled out his phone and went to the camera app pressing the record button then he put the phone in his shirt pocket, so the camera was visible. His lawyer told him never to talk to her about Maddie without recording the conversation whenever possible and make sure to get her face so they could prove it was her. When it was situated, he knocked on the red door and waited only a few seconds before it was opened revealing Hannah dressed in a very revealing dress that Harry quickly averted his eyes upon seeing.

"Where's Maddie?" Harry asked stepping inside the apartment when she widen the door for him to enter.

"She's in her room." Harry tensed when Hannah's hand touched his shoulder. He quickly moved away from it and looked at her, "oh come on Harry...Danny isn't here, and Maddie doesn't have to know."

"I'm not interested. I'm also not available as you know. I'm engaged. I'm just here for my daughter. Maddie!"

"Daddy!" Harry grinned turning when a door opened and Maddie came out with a small suitcase making him frown slightly, "I'm ready."

"That's great princess what all did you pack? You look like you're ready to run away." Harry teased assuming she had packed toys or something.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you you're getting her for a week because Dan and I are leaving to look at a few homes in America where his transfer will be."

"A week? That would have been nice to know before today."

"It's a week or nothing. We leave tonight and we don't have a ticket for her, so we'd drop her off as Dan's parents’ place tonight otherwise.”

“Well, no I want her. Of course, I want her I just wish you would have told me. But thank you anyway for letting me keep her for the week.”

“You could thank me in another way.” She suggested.

“Not interested. Ready to go Mads?”

“She already ate so there’s no need to feed her dinner tonight.” Hannah said stepping closer, Harry immediately stepped back and opened the door.

“Goodbye Hannah.”

“Bye Harry.” She said slowly smiling as she wiggled her fingers. Harry ignored her and hurried out of the apartment with Maddie’s hand in his and her suitcase in the other hand.

“Daddy why does mom want me to you about you two getting back together upfront of Louis?” Harry pulled his eyebrows together and looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom said I had to ask you about you and her getting back together as soon as we got in the car if Louis was in the passenger seat. I asked her why and she told me it doesn’t matter to just do it.”

“Oh well I’m not sure, but I would prefer it if you didn’t. It can cause some tension that I really would rather not have inside the car. Your mother and I are not getting back together and there is no reason to ask that, okay? I’m marrying Louis and we are planning to stay together for a very very very long time.”

“like a Happily Ever After long time?”

“Yes, just like that. You’re going to be at the wedding and Freddie will be there. He’s going to be the ring bearer and you’re the flower girl. You’ll have a sort of baby aunt to help walk down as well. She’s only a baby you like that idea?”

“Yes, I can help her walk and help her throw petals on the ground, right?”

“Right. But don’t tell Louis I’ve already got it all planned out he has to feel included too.” Harry said jokingly making her giggle as he tickled her, “Promise?”

“I promise it’s our little secret daddy.” Harry grinned before he noticed something.

“Where’s your coat?”

“I don’t have one…well I have one, but it stops here.” She said pointing to her mid forearm, “and it’s tight and I don’t like it.”

“I gave your mother fifty pounds last week to get you a new one.”

“She spent it on the jacket, but it doesn’t fit, and I told her it didn’t fit but it was the only one the thrift store had.”

“The thrift store I gave her fifty pounds for a winter coat. She didn’t have to- it’s fine we’ll get you two one for me and one you’ll keep at your mothers, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, daddy.”

“You don’t need to thank me for getting you essential items like coats, but you’re welcome.” Harry pulled his phone out and ended the video making sure it had recorded the entire time before shoving it in his pocket. Once they got to the front doors, he made sure to have a good grip on her suitcase and her body as he lifted her up before he ran out into the cold making her squeal with laughter, “RUN RUN RUN RUN.” Harry said laughing as he got to the Murano and pulled it open as she giggled, “There we go all toasty. Get in your booster and buckle up.” Harry told her closing the door then hurrying to the driver seat.

“I told you to put a coat on.” Louis told him as he rubbed his arm.

“Tell me you were right later.” Harry grumbled as he pulled his phone out and set it in the little cubicle, “We have to go to a department store for Maddie to get her a coat. Does Freddie need one for winter?”

“No, I go shopping for the after-winter sales and get him a size up for the next winter. He has a coat and gloves and a hate. He’s all set for winter.”

“Smart man. I knew I was marrying you for a reason.” Louis rolled his eyes with a grin, but he leaned into the kiss Harry pressed against his cheek, “we need to talk when we get home for a few minutes about Hannah.” Harry whispered against his ear before pressing another kiss there to disguise it. Louis nodded letting him know he heard him, so Harry pulled back but kept one of his hands intertwined with Louis’ as he pulled out of the parking space.

********

Two hours later Harry and Louis were finally finished putting everything away and the kids were successfully distracted with each other and the toys, so Harry pulled Louis into his home office and pulled out his phone.

“My lawyer has always told me to record every conversation I have with Hannah as much as possible so that’s what I did. Anyway, I’m not worried about what happened inside the apartment for obvious reason what I want you to really focus on is inside the elevator, but I’ll let you see whole the video anyway.” Harry said handing the phone to Louis as he sat in the desk chair and Louis sat on his desk, his legs in his arm rest holes pulling the chair in closer making Harry grin at how cute he was. Harry didn’t pay much attention to the video, but he knew when Louis got to the part where Hannah started coming on to him more and more. He’d make a face and his hand in Harry’s hair would tighten briefly but then came to the part where Maddie asked about Hannah tell her to ask the question upfront of Louis. His eyebrows rose and he grinned as if he found it amusing and when the video ended Louis laughed sliding down to straddle Harry’s lap.

“Even if Maddison had asked that it wouldn’t have bothered me.” Louis said.

“You got upset with the florist commented about my eyes sparkling with artificial bluebells.”

“Yeah, because she was wrong.” Louis said with an eye roll, “Your eyes sparkled with the purple Ranunculus.”

“Right the flowers we never even went near.” Louis rolled his eyes with a grin as he stood up, “How could I have forgotten those.”

“Someone’s sarcastic today and I don’t know if I like it, Harold.” Louis said with his arms folded, “It might hurt my feelings.”

“No not your feelings!” Harry said in fake outrage before he quickly wrapped his arms around Louis and kissed his face multiple times until he was pushing him away and running out of the room. Harry grinned as he grabbed his phone and hurried after him only to see he had teamed up with Freddie and Maddie in the matter of three seconds and all three of them had nerf guns points at him.

“CHARGE!” Louis shouted as he ran up the stairs and they ran after him shooting at him.