#I’m honestly shocked that I didn’t see more comments pointing it out sooner??
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hopelesshawks · 1 year ago
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Nothing like reading a fic on ao3 and suddenly getting heavy sadomasochist and impact play in almost all of the smut scenes even though the smut tags were only “dom/sub”, “soft dom [insert character]”, and “sub [insert character]” to make me appreciate how well tagged/warned shit on tumblr is
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starsomens · 1 year ago
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Can I request a jealous and possessive Noah one? With some smut?
WARNINGS : NSFW! Unprotected sex (SAFETY FIRST!), strong language, dirty talk, possessiveness, slightly rough sex MDI!! 18+! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!
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“Should we make some pasta for tonight?” You asked grabbing a box of noodles and shaking it at your boyfriend
“Whatever’s more fun for us to make sweet” he smirks at you. At least once a week you like staying in and cooking together. Like self care for couples. Some good food, maybe some games or a movie and your night is set. And who could say no to pasta?
“If I knew you’d make pasta at home, I would have asked you out sooner” a voice came from behind you and you turn around to see the source. It was an old college friend who you had a past crush on, but quickly left behind.
“Oh, Jason, it’s you. It’s been a couple of years huh?” You comment seeing him
“Yeah! Like around 5 maybe even, come here!” He comes up and hugs you, but you didn’t exactly hug back
“Well, Jason, hope you’re doing good. This is my boyfriend Noah” you said taking a step back, coming closer to your boyfriend.
“Oh so this is the lucky guy huh? I asked your friend about you and she said you were with some guy from a band. Honestly I was shocked! But hey real happy for ya!” He chuckled with some sarcasm in there
“Well it is getting late and we gotta get going” Noah narrowed his eyes and pull you closer to him.
“Yeah, we’ve got some things to do. At home. Together” you add, trying to make a point
“Oh yeah totally, it was great seeing you again-“ he said trying to come in for another thug but was stopped when Noah moved you to the other side of him without a word. Creating a visible and metaphorical boundary between you and your ex crush. Jason pressed his lips into a line and awkwardly put his arms back down. He put his hand into his pocket, turned away and walk down the aisle.
“ well, that was something wasn’t it?” You ask trying to make a joke that. But Noah seemed a bit off about it.
“ yeah… funny”
The rest of your shopping trip was a bit tense in at some point a little bit awkward. He started eyeing almost every guy that passed by or even looked at you. Even when you were at the cashier, and she was paying, she had you between his arms in between the counter, basically trapping you , so you wouldn’t go anywhere. In other words, so no one can check you out while he was checking out.
The ride home was a bit quiet aside from his short answers to your comments. Once the groceries are put away, and the pasta was put to boil, you finally brought it up.
“ Noah, what is going on with you? You’ve been acting weird since we went shopping”
“ It’s nothing okay? “ he answers in a tone that completely says it wasn’t OK. And then it hit you.
“ wait…. Did you get jealous with Jason” you asked coming closer “know what you should know nothing happened between us. On top of that you know I don’t have any interest in anyone but you”
“Look I know. I just hate when others think they can just take you from me like that” he said coming closer to you so that he tall frame towered over yours “…your my girl” he semi whispered
“I’m your girl?” You repeat as your hands slide up his chest and around his neck and link your fingers together
He lowers his head and kisses your lips “you’re..my…girl” he says between each one. Punctuating the statement with a deeper longer kiss. The one kiss soon became many, desperate, passionate and searing.
“Upstairs” he said as you feel his hand grip your waist tighter. You take a hold of his hand and climb the stairs up to your shared bedroom. This isn’t the first time Noah had resorted to sex when he was feeling very possessive and jealous over you. In his way this was how he got the pent-up emotions out and how he felt like you were still only his.
you both stumble in the room, lips still dancing together as your hands fumbled to get each other’s clothes off as soon as possible. Once you were both down to only your underwear it was only a matter of who would take control first. Now normally Noah would be the more dominant one but sometimes you need to switch shit up on him.
So instead of him getting you onto the bed, you turn around and push him towards the bed until he was propped up on his elbows.
“ oh, so someone wants to be in charge tonight, huh” he smirked
“ oh, hush, Mr. jealous” you answer back. You keep eye contact with him as you seductively and slowly unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor. 
“Fuck babe…” he said as the tent in his underwear only groom. To say that he loves your breasts was an understatement. “Get your ass over here already”
You take a step closer and run your hands from his knees, up to his hips, and ounces chest as a straddle him.  This was one thing he loved for you to do. So just slightly tease them and work your way up to the exciting part. 
You sit down and feel his hard dick on your ass. Deep grown comes from his throat as you begin to grind back-and-forth on him. His large hands finding your waist guiding you in the same motion.
“Fucck, how do you feel this good without me being inside yet?” he ask
“ maybe it’s because I’m all yours. And no one else gets to feel this.” 
“ you’re right. Now take these off.” he said, pulling on the band of your underwear, letting it snapped back in place.
You with yourself off of him only to get your underwear off or he does the same.  in one movie motion sit down on him and take a second to adjust to him. The fullness made your head fall back in pleasure. And the tightness around his dick made him a groan.
“God, you feel so good. Please princess move” he pants, wanting to amplify the pleasure he felt. One thing about him was that he was shy, and everyone knew that. But behind closed doors he was very much a talker, especially during sex.
“Mmm Noah, you feel so good” you moan. His large tattooed hands come up and massage your breasts
“Yea baby just like that, ride that dick baby, fuck!” He moans as he raise your hips up, almost bringing him all the way out and sit back down again.
In one quick motion, he flips you onto your bag so that he was not on top. He then resumes with deep, long strokes. His mouth finding your shoulders and neck. Leaving hickeys in bite marks behind. He was going to make sure the next time you went out everyone knew you belong to him.
“Does it feel good baby?” He asks “tell me who’s making you feel good” he growls in your ear wanting to hear it come from you
“Y-you Noah” you moan as your nails rake down his back. Your own back arching off of the bed as he brushes against that one spot that makes you see stars.
“Louder baby,” he came off of you and held your hips and pounded into your harder. Chasing both of your highs
“Noah! You! Only you! Fuck, please!” You cry out and practically beg him. He continued to hit your sweet spot and you felt yourself coming, Oh so close. The knot in your stomach was tightening your toes curling. You were pretty sure you were very close to drawing blood from his forearms.
“ that’s a baby come for me, cum over this dick” he encouraged you as he watched himself come in and out of you “and let me…let me cum in that pussy. Make it mine” he growls as he snaps his hips harder and harder. Finally, you get your release and clamp down around him. And in a few more times he feels you so deliciously.
He groans in ecstasy “oh fuck….fuck that was amazing” he pants as he leans down and kisses your cheek leading to your lips “I love you babes” he whispers
“I love you too” you answer back “but please know I’m only yours” you smile at him
“Hey no harm in some jealousy, besides you always enjoy the outcome” he chuckles helping you up and get comfortable.
Later that night you had asked for a glass of water. And of course, being a boyfriend he is he goes to get you a nice glass of water before you were to go off to bed. As he was walking into the kitchen, he saw Jolly sitting on the couch.
“Hey how’s it going?” he asks casually as he’s pouring a glass of water.
“ nothing much just waiting for you to be done so I can go to bed” he said, with a straight face, and all that could be heard. Was the water being poured into the glass
“…..” o-o (Noah)
“….�� -_- (jolly)
“…. Oh, we are done now.” he says and walks back to the stairs to bring you your water
「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @beaniebabylover
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prettysymbiosis · 2 years ago
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I’ve been trying to get these thoughts out for days but basically I feel like the unifying theory of s16 (as I see it) is a conscious exploration of the dichotomy between sunny as a classically bold and brash pee pee poo poo comedy and sunny as a thoughtful, nuanced and subtle show about flawed people and also about itself, at times (by that I mean the meta isn’t always about macdennis or the other characters but about sunny itself - win an award, clip show, big mo, etc). the trailer actually captures this dichotomy well through the dialogue clips and animations, as well as the pinned comment which said “get ready for a whole lot of subtlety.” it’s still so baffling to me that sunny can simultaneously read as one of the most loud, obnoxious, unsubtle shows ever on television, OR it can be so subtle and allegorical in the writing of later seasons that most viewers would think people like us are crazy for reading so much into it even though we’re really not. this kind of self-reflective flavor is another product of the rewatch/podcast project which has been almost universally agreed to have had a very positive effect on the writing.
anyway having said that, I want to just share my notes on the first two episodes without trying to edit them too much. I’m bolding the points that I personally haven’t seen anyone else mention yet and putting a 😎 next to ones that evoke a Classic Sunny VibeTM because that’s important to the experiment of this season.
the gang inflates
macden fun/domestic/DUMB again 😎
something something never committing to the couch when it was absurd not to and it ended up costing them so much macdennis blah blah
dennis hanging up on dee was so funny to me oops 😎
and the WHOLE dee (as a character and specifically the female character) thing about being minimized to an absurd degree. I like to think the bog was a turning point for dee and the show is gonna do better by her now hopefully by recognizing her plight in a more serious way, like the way the guys have been doing?
are mac and dennis…… you know…… like for real??? as many have said, it could totally be revealed kind of retroactively to undercut the shock and be like “honestly we’re surprised you didn’t notice sooner” I feel like that is something rcg would do. suggestive clues:
“I don’t wanna talk to you about–” “a TON”
or is dennis like well that’s news to me jealous vibes??
“I figured you were man” ??
“I’m getting a little concerned about our nut”
“you truly have no reason to be sleeping with frank”
they specifically put a lil reaction shot of dennis after mac says “that’s a lotta blowin” a la the lil grin in gets romantic and, well, I just think that’s a choice that was made
“it’s not homophobic” is that so?????
when mac is like “you think we got rid of our furniture too soon/that the business plan won’t work” it’s kinda like no it’s not the committing to what they have, it’s that mac still has big denial problems and dennis can’t work with that… maybe? but so does dennis tbh
in a show-meta sense it’s like, we should be less worried about whether the gay gay-ass love story will alienate people and more worried about how these characters are too ridiculous to even let the love story play out effectively. they need mental health days if we are ever to have nice things
it’s possible mac denying his reaction to the allergy has to do with his body dysmorphia?
also it occurred to me that maybe part of why rob is clean-shaven this season is so they could do those prosthetics more easily?
those handprints though…. I hate everything
oh also just the bed scene. its existence
the zoomed in neck touch of course
“I’m not going to do it!” “..okay” dennis keepin his cool :)
mac’s shirt! COOLER HEADS PREVAIL
just the sheer silliness of inflatable furniture - is there some metaphor here lol?
in a general sense could inflates be taken to mean flanderizes? also maybe it’s just implied but I noticed I hadn’t actually seen anyone mention inflation as a sexual kink and like, that was part of the intention right? if so, 😎
charlie “uhhhhhhhh… yep.” poor charlie :( he doesn’t want to live in a maze (like a rat)
“well then you’re just like being a predator” :( so here for charlie calling out bullshit with frank and mrs. mac and even his own mom so far in these first two eps
charlie just giving up and yelling in frustration which is kinda what bonnie does in ep2 (and ep3 based on trailer)
the gross horny male objectifying thing 😎
rob put his whole pussy into this episode
charlie saying “I don’t get why he doesn’t take me seriously” and dee saying “that’s gotta be maddening” 🙃
cats in the alley my loves 😎
gluing dee a pillow on the wall <3
“consider it an offering” “of war??” this says so much. must everything be a conflict?
charlie’s hair looks so crazy and good in the sleepover scene and also he’s so smart
charlie asks frank to “return everything to the status quo” by the end of the episode, sitcom style. full reset, no progression. except charlie is asking that frank not endlessly take advantage of the fact that mac and den can’t figure their shit out, not totally push dee out just because it’s easy, not make light of the trauma charlie has from what happened to him. all that stuff IS the status quo! so what is he really asking for? this is one of the bits of writing that I think is also about the show as a show, and how they’ve approached these dynamics forever. 
it’s funny that people are saying this season is such a return to form because it is, but it’s also so much more self-aware of what that form is/was and how deeper elements can coexist within it. they’re really walking with a foot in both worlds here and they’re doing it well. love this for them and for us, the people who know what it’s always sunny in philadelphia is REALLY about
“we’ll take you to the hospital, and they’ll have nuts. and you can– you can die there.” hahahah
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aceredshirt13 · 2 years ago
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All right, boys, which culprits got executed after TGAA?
Asa Shinn - Very well may have been based on crimes alone, but wouldn’t actually have been because of her apparently magical diplomatic immunity. It doesn’t matter, though, because Menimemo’s poison and knife made that a moot point.
Nikolina Pavlova - Absolutely not. Regardless of which country’s jurisdiction she was tried in, she both didn’t intend to kill Kazuma and didn’t even actually kill Kazuma. If he’d died, she would have had assault and involuntary manslaughter at best, which wouldn’t be executable offenses even if he hadn’t pulled up later in Britain with amnesia. I’m glad they at least told her he wasn’t dead. Poor girl…
Magnus McGilded - Stronghart seemed to imply that he would have hanged had Ryunosuke not taken his case, but his acquittal and Ashley’s later paraffin inferno (parafferno?) made that a moot point.
Joan Garrideb - No. Unfortunately, I don’t believe spousal abuse was grounds for hanging, and negligent assault of poor Olive isn’t, either.
Ashley Graydon - You bet your ass he was. I regret to inform my fellow Egg stans that if anyone in this game is getting the noose, it’s this guy. The man has two counts of murder - one premeditated, one not - and while that almost certainly would have been enough on its own already, he also has countless charges of high treason. I would be genuinely shocked if Ashley wasn’t executed. (Unfortunately, the Skulkins don’t seem to be aware of their old friend’s inevitable demise.)
Raiten Menimemo - It doesn't seem like it? My good friend Yello combined all his various crimes together and figured he'd probably be in prison for 20-30 years rather than being hanged. So our boy Raiten's gonna be put away for quite a while, but probably won't be dead.
William Shamspeare - Probably not? While he was by no means a good person (maybe consider just robbing your neighbor next time instead of trying to chase them off with poisonous gas), and did have a prior criminal record of some kind (though I suspect it was probably just theft and honestly? If it was anything like his gas theft? Valid), there was no actual point where he successfully committed a murder - he killed one man on accident, and failed to kill another man on purpose. It’s true, however, that Quinby hates his guts, and has a lot of influence - so if he had a particularly bad lawyer, it could potentially sway whether or not he was hanged. Ultimately? It could go either way.
Olive Green - Thankfully, no! It was almost explicitly stated that the fact that she didn’t kill Shamspeare was a blessing, because it meant that her life wasn’t over. So again, probably a hefty prison sentence; but she’ll be free someday.
Enoch Drebber - Nah. He planned the crime, yes, but in the end he only became an accomplice in Asman’s actual murder. A hefty prison sentence, I imagine, but not death - and depending on his behavior, he could potentially get out sooner rather than later.
Courtney Sithe - Apparently not! Until Asman’s murder, I thought anybody who deliberately killed anybody in this universe would be hanged because of Stronghart’s comment about McGilded. However, Maria is far too happy about her mom still being alive during the credits for her death to be impending, so I have to think that Courtney is just going to be in prison for A While - possibly the rest of her life (though as a Sithe lover I can dream that she’ll get something shorter). Perhaps the queen commuted her death sentence because of her many years of work in the criminal justice system, which as far as I can tell was the only way you could evade hanging for murder at the time? Either way, she’d still be alive.
Seishiro Jigoku - Yep. Stronghart and others outright said he would likely never see his homeland again, and given that he committed two murders and organized an attempted assassination, I think he’s getting more than just lifelong prison time. The fact that Stronghart spearheaded all of these crimes and had quite a hand in coercing Jigoku to commit them would probably not be enough to stop him from hanging.
Mael Stronghart- Absofuckinglutely. Because okay, sure, he didn’t directly kill anyone. But there’s no way in hell this guy’s not gonna get executed. He’s ordered so many people’s deaths and committed so many corrupt acts that I don’t think it even matters at this point that he didn’t personally get his hands dirty - and given that Queen Victoria openly hates him now, she’s definitely not going to commute his sentence.
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farieshades · 2 years ago
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Um think this is question 4 for supernatural. Deities knows.
Fuck what was I gonna ask. Fuuuuuuuccccckk.
.
.
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Destiny!
No autocorrect. Destiel.
What do you think about Destiel?
I am, definitely, not the person to ask this of, but sure, lets goooooooo.
The Relationship through the Seasons
There are a lot of minute details that show up throughout the seasons, little looks here and there, offhand comments with deeper meanings, the wonderful queerbaiting eye-fucking, but for this, we’re going to go on both my thoughts and what the scenes can portray. 
So, we start with the beginning really. Dean and Castiel have romantic subtext as a part of their interactions since Castiel’s introduction at the start of Season 4, especially when paralleling Sam's relationships with Meg (I believe at the time) with the sneaking out and the secretive nature of both. However, unlike Sam’s relationship nothing explicit happened in the audience view.
Interestingly, we do get a lot of, what I’d call ‘background’ for the relationship. In 4.14 the Siren episode, it is clear from the male siren, and Dean’s own words of Sirens being creatures who attract men by turning into “whatever floats they guys boat”, that Nick Munroe is that which is attractive to Dean. The episode does play it off by linking similarities to Sam, but the mythology behind sirens (in general, lets not try and figure out fish legs or bird bodies honestly) is inherently sexual, seen in a later scene when Nick makes the brothers fight with the promise of “whoever survives can be with me forever” which in no way is straight or platonic. 
Season 4 is also where we learn a lot about angels in general. Castiel, as an angel, is “about the size of your Chrysler building” and as all angels are, “junkless”. Multiple angels in the series flip between both male and female vessels, Castiel included for a single episode, but nevertheless, Castiel often inhabits a male vessel (when an angel). With his appearance in the show, Cas is canonically a virgin, to the point of actual confusion to arousing stimuli, however, as the seasons progress, Cas gains an understanding of romantic and sexual desire; often to women (Hannah, Meg, April, kina Nora but not really). 
Interestingly, as I bring it up, season 4 is somewhat the time of learning to understand who you once were and who you could possibly be. 
Two lines strike out in favour of Destiel, specifically in favour of it. 
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition" 
We all know this one, and I’m probably certain it’s been analyzed to hell and back (hah puns), but from my view this opens up a reciprocity between the two, not an ideal way to start being ‘in debt’, but well, better than others. In this, of course, Castiel doesn’t mean to make it as a deal, he’s more or less stating a fact, instantly contradicting Dean’s thoughts of worthlessness and his unsaveable nature(1.16 and the interesting line “I know I’m a freak and sooner or later everyone else is going to know it too” while a shapeshifter wore Dean’s face / 3.10 in which Nightmare!Dean says “I know how dead you are inside, how worthless you feel…. Your own father didn’t care whether you lived or died, why should you?”), but these feelings are counteracted with their meeting,  ‘I am an angel of the Lord’ really is a shock to the system when really not believing in the good for the last 3 seasons.
Later in this season, however, we get the interesting line from the angel Uriel; "Castiel? Uh... he's not here. You see, he has this weakness. He likes you." 
This is straight to the face, he likes you. Sure, at the time he’s more in a state of “fond of charge” probably, but for an ‘unfeeling’ angel to be ‘fond’ that… there’s a lot of oomph power there.
Season 5 is when Dean’s platonic affection for Cas shows up (And Cas’ fondness becomes more clear), notably we have the statement from Cas, “And I did it all, all of it, for you.” Now this is more about them as a whole I’d believe, but the way it is worded is in itself a love confession, is it not?  But to Dean, he’s beginning to definitely see Cas as a form of family, and not a platonic kind surely, as he makes a joke, 5.3, about two women (Thelma and Louise) kissing refering back to themselves.
By Season 6, the fondness that Cas holds for Dean can be seen in wanting to let him lead his own human life rather that get him wrapped up in heaven’s politics, which, of course, causes the whole leviathan problem later because of some strange plotline that my head refuses to remember but I do recall that happening, so there is that. We also see, once again, it’s not just the audience picking up on interactions here, as Balthazar describes Castiel to Dean as “the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” Season 6 ends with Destiel with a very significant moment, Dean collecting the bloody trench coat that flowed towards him in the water, the only remaining piece of Castiel. Dean picks it up folds it, and keeps it. This is an interesting parallel to widows of soldiers who die in line of service and recieve the flag as an honour to their husbands' sacrifice. Dean also keeps it nearby in a multitude of different cars as we go into Season 7 until he can return the coat. 
Season 7 doesn't have much Cas/Dean moments honestly, but there are still significant moments, like the returning of the coat, the amnesia Cas trusting Dean instantly, and finally, when he gets his memory back that he remembers Dean, and everything that happened. Dean's own character has shown to have changed, specifically with this scene and how he regards Cas the same as he would his brother, "If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time." No matter what, however, Cas is full of guilt, even saying "I deserved to die. Now, I can’t possibly fix it… So why did I even walk out of that river?" But Dean refused to give up, telling Cas that coming back was his choice to fix it. This scene is one out of many that shows that Dean will fight for Cas and their family, as that is what he considers Cas to be. Dean's never really done long term relationships, the only people that stick around long enough are firmly set into the "Family” category in his mind, out of "Enemy" and "Friend" and "Stranger". This season also introdced an interesting concept from Hester, an angel from Castiel's garrison, who tells Dean "When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!" which, if an angel falls when there is too much emotion and whatnot, just merely touching Dean managed to flood Cas with emotion and love(?), probably without any idea what had happened to him when he did so.
At the end of Season 7 we end up in Purgatory, something intrinsically important to Season 8. Through flashbacks, we see Dean searching for Cas in a literal hellscape and praying every night, and when they do find eachother, Dean’s relief and joy are clear to see, despite Cas having been trying to stay away to keep Dean safe, and then when Cas chose to stay behind in Purgatory, Dean’s memories are distorted from the even in his own distress, he believes he failed Cas. When Cas does in fact return, 8.7, Dean yells at him for staying behind, “‘Look, I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I’ve failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don’t need it!” Everyone he cares about he fails and thus we have Dean entering the paradox of failed love; he failed Cas, meaning he cares about him (read Love if you want), but he cares for Cas, meaning he failed him. For Dean, destiny has dictated if he loves someone, if he cares, he will fail them. Which, considering the life he has led and how many people he has watched die, is actually possibly true. 
By mid season 8, we get the interesting “He was my gay thing” episode, with Aaron. Of course, in the episode, the flirtation is a diversion tactic, but Dean doesn’t know this when interacting with Aaron, and in the bar, Dean acts genuinely interested (or possibly shocked, could be read both ways), but with the interesting take, Aaron looks out of his depth. It is a romantic comedy kind of flustered that Dean is taken with at the scene, as said by Ben Edlund and Phil Sgriccia who did a commentary over the scene also further saying, jokingly based on their tone, that the two could have come together, where this was a potential with the hard life that Dean had lived and the idea that ‘wow someone likes me.’ Of course, in the scene where its revealed that Dean wasn’t actually being flirted with, he’s quite flustered and seemingly affected, though he does manage to say “It was really good. You really had me there. It was very smooth” as if he had faced rejection in a way. (Which it kinda was)
8.17 shows up not long after, Castiel having been reprogramed to be able to kill Dean, however, you know what stopped him? Dean echoing back what he said in purgatory, a declaration (of love) strong enough to break through the brainwashing. I need you. 
The need is repeated in Season 9's first episode prayer to Castiel, "I know you think that I’m pissed at you, OK? But I don’t care that the angels fell. Whatever you did, or didn’t do, it doesn’t matter, OK? We’ll work it out. Please, man, I need you here.” Dean later also refuses to give up Cas even to save him or his brother, something he would have never done in the past (considering Sam is family and family is everything to Dean). Of course, Season 9 is also when we get the tiktok viral video of Abbadon grabbing Dean and saying, “So obedient, and suicidally stupid. I like that too.” To which Dean responds with “Are we gonna fight or make out, cause I’m getting some mixed signals here?” (cough - bottom - cough) -- 9.6 Cas has a date, and Dean doesn't look happy about it. In fact, we get a romantic cliche “Cas, wait. I can’t let you do this.” Cas closes the door, stares up at Dean and says, “What?” Dean says, “You’re gonna wear that, on a date?”. Now, ok, not exactly romantic, but "I can't let you do this" very much is, especially when confessing love to prevent love interest from leaving/marrying someone/dating. Of course, Dean tells Cas to lose the vest. Cas takes it off. Then Dean says, “And why don’t you unbutton it.” Cas starts unbuttoning his shirt. Dean says, “Alright, that’s enough Tony Manero.” Dean grins and looks down at Cas’s chest. Which, to the younger audience, Tony Manero (the flim) is 1) deliberately provocative 2) as challenging and compelling as it is difficult to describe. 
This season honestly has more Dean/Crowley than Dean/Cas, but Metatron states and hints, quite a few times, about the relationship. He specifies that Castiel’s goal was to “save Dean” but also that Cas was Dean’s “Boy Toy” (though this was the illusion of Gabriel that Metatron created) and Metatron makes many references to queer or queer coded characters such as Sherlock, the erotic poem by Muriel Rukeyser, and the 'subtext' of a story making the story work [interestingy, the last time subtext was referenced was 5.9 in which two cosplayers (one sam, one dean) came out as a gay couple]. Metatron even states that he left Cas humant because he "was hoping [Cas] would live happily ever after, but he screwed that up too.” Then, damningly almost, in 9.22, Metatron states that "after a rousing speech, his true weakness is revealed: He’s in love. With humanity.” Although, in the scene, it's clearly Dean who was just saved by Castiel, one specific aspect of humanity one may say. 
Season 10 I am going over quickly as I’m probably overwriting at this point, we get the fun “Fanfiction” episode, 10.5, which strongly acknowledges the Destiel within the series “Supernatural” by Chuck Shurley. We also get Dean referring to Sam and Castiel as “the people who love me.” within the season. 
Really, nothing is going to stand out in the next 4 seasons other than basically strengthening the bonds and becoming fathers together, with their weirdly shaped family that we love. But, the fact that Castiel loves Dean is repeatedly affirmed in canon, not just through inference, but direct, unequivocal statements.
But, then we get Season 15, episode 18 in specific. You can all tell where I’m going with this. 
To save the life of Dean one last time, Castiel sacrifices his own to the Shadow. It was a promise for when Cas exerienced a moment of true happiness the Shadow would come, but he figured it out in that moment. He confesses, tells dean that everything Dean has done has been for love, that Dean is the most selfless, loving human he will ever know, that he changed him, and goodbye. He tells him I love you, tears streaming down his face. Many watch Dean's confusion, the anguish, the shock. It's too late for Dean to react, but Cas has saved him, saved the man he loved. The ending scene is Dean ignoring a phone call from Sam as he sobs.
The Actors
Here’s where I’m going to pause and take a step back. Jensen Ackles doesn’t support the ship, however he did state that at the time of Cas’ confession he played Dean’s character open to interpretation as Dean ‘was in shock’, of course, the Latin American Dub has Dean saying he loves Cas back. But in the English, this doesn’t happen. Jensen has also stated that most of Dean's reaction in that scene was removed in editing and with it more ambiguity is given to the situation. Now, Jensen has repeatedly said at conventions that he never played Dean as bi or gay, however, Jensen also says in an interview with TV Week that Dean may have been a prostitute/hooker for a time [Q: Are the guys still mainly living on stolen credit cards and so forth? A: For the most part, yeah. Dean’s a bit of a pool shark and also a bit of a gambler. It doesn’t really show it all the time, but it’s definitely implied that there are poker games and pool matches that they can win some money on. And who knows? Dean’s a promiscuous kind of guy. Who knows how he drums up the funds that they use?] 
Respecting Jensen’s thoughts on this, my take in understanding how this may be played out could be that,  Castiel loves Dean, and supposedly, by the amount of timesit's been referenced to his face, Dean knows it as well, but at the same time there are plenty of different types of love. What Dean may look on as Stroge or Pragma (Familiar and Enduring), Castial may see as Philia and Eros (Affectionate and Romantic).
Personally
I think the ship works for the characters. There is a distinct queer coding that is applied through many of their scenes, and especially to Dean’s character and his (bi)sexuality. I’ve read plenty of fics, seen plenty of edits, and yeah, tis a good pairing, possibly the best one that Dean could work with. 
Castiel – “I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want, it's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.”
Dean – “What are you talking about, man?”
Castiel – “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're “daddy's blunt instrument.” And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you see it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.”
Dean – “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”
Castiel – “Because it is. I love you.”
Dean – “Don't do this, Cas.”
Castiel – “Goodbye, Dean.”
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quoththe-ravenn · 3 years ago
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Building Docks
Back at it again with attempting to get back into the writing atmosphere, this time with Wren (my beloved). 
M!Wren x F!pc (I guess it can technically be GN!pc, but I can’t remember if I put in female pronouns.)
Tw for disassociation, but that’s about it. Mentions of being sold, illusions to rape, but nothing explicit. I just like the idea of Wren being soft with the pc okay! 
Anyways, I hope y’all like it, and if you do please leave me some feedback, or even if you don’t! I’m trying to improve so I take all comments <3
Also, no beta we die like men, and I did not edit this and MAY have forgotten pc was supposed to be drunk. Whoops.
*******
You weren’t supposed to drink as much as you did, you had to steal that smuggling shipment from the docks tonight after all. But you just wanted to feel something, even if it was just the dizzying effects of the alcohol.
How long have you felt disconnected from yourself? You couldn’t remember, exactly. The days were starting to blur together, one singular goal in mind throughout: Make money, pay Bailey.
You weren’t quite sure when the last time you ate was either. Maybe that’s why you felt beside yourself after only three shots.
It was only three shots, right?
You couldn’t keep up at this point.
A thump to your left jolts you out of your drunken daze. Focus! You dart to the next shipping container, ducking low enough to not be caught. Were you even in the right place?
This was a mistake. You should’ve just gone back to the orphanage. Who cares if you get sent off to another buyer? It’s bound to happen sooner or later. Bailey made sure of that when you decided to take on Robin’s debt.
Your eyes shoot open, (when did you close them?) at the sound of a gun clicking behind you. You wait for the rush of fear to flood your veins, the tightening of your chest, anything other than the numbness you’ve become all too acquainted with. 
You can’t say you weren’t expecting it when nothing happens, choosing to just turn around and let the pieces fall where they may.
Well, you can honestly say you weren’t expecting to see Wren here tonight. From the surprise in his eyes, you can tell he was thinking the same thing.
His smug smile and cocky, “Well look who it is,” doesn’t warm you the way it should. And damn if that didn’t send you further into the depths of whatever hell you were drowning in.
It’s not like you were avoiding Wren, per se. Sure, you haven’t been going to your usual blackjack nights with him, and have been keeping clear of the farms more often than not, but that was because you just don’t have the strength to care what happens to the farm or Alex.
You’re just so exhausted. 
Wren notices something is up when you keep staring at him with that deadpan look. If the furrowed brows and deep frown are anything to go by, you’d say that he’s concerned. 
But that can’t be right. Nobody in this town cares about anything but themselves; hell, even Robin can’t even muster up the strength to help you out, letting you be taken off by Bailey when you can’t afford to pay, even knowing what happens.
You flinch when he takes a step forward, almost like you expect him to hit you for acting like… this. He comes up short, frown deepening. “Damn, I ain’t ever seen ya like this. Everything alright?”
“I’m fine.” It’s an automatic response, said to everyone who pretends to care long enough to ask you. 
The disbelieving laugh he gives almost shocks you. “Yeah, and I’m an upstandin’ citizen. I’ve been wondering why you haven’t been showing your tail around the farm of late, now I see it’s because you’ve upgraded to stealing from the nice folk.” His cocky grin almost irritates you.
“Yeah, well, sorry to deprive you and your friends of your nightly strip tease, but I’ve been busy.” You turn around to leave, only to be stopped by Wren’s hand on your arm.
“Hey, I’m serious. Are you alright?” You can’t help but be taken aback. You’ve never seen Wren like this before; head dipping to close out the rest of the world, eyes soft and full of worry, looking over every inch of you like that will give him the answer he’s seeking.
You swallow, tears welling in your throat. An emotion, but one you’ve been desperately trying to keep back. You can’t keep looking at him and keep the tears at bay at the same time, so you look away and mutter something along the lines of, “Yeah, I’m good.” 
You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you go. “Come with me.” Your heart drops, (no, not you too), but make no attempt to stop him as he tugs you from the docks. He opens the passenger side of a car and guides you in.
You note that he doesn’t lock the door. Not like it matters, you’re too tired of fighting. It’s easier to just give in and get it over with.
The ride is silent, neither of you willing to break the silence. 
When he stops and leads you into a dingy looking apartment complex, you immediately start to strip. Wren freezes when he spots you. “Hey, woah, what are you doing?”
The look you give him suggests he’s the crazy one here. “I don’t want my clothes to get ripped or lost. It’s easier to just set them aside.”
Wren flushes a bright red. “That’s not- I mean- If you’d like but-” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. “I didn’t bring you here for that.”
“Oh.” You stand with your shirt clutched in your hands, unsure what to do next. “Then, why-”
“I thought you’d like a place to sleep for a while. Somewhere that nobody will, uh, try to get at ya and all that.” He clears his throat again. “Anyways, showers down the hall to the left, and you can sleep on my bed in the back room.”
“Okay. Uh, thanks, I guess.”
“Yeah, whatever, don’t mention it. Feel free to take one of my shirts to sleep in. Actually, please take a shirt. I don’t want your muddy clothes on my bed.”
This actually prompts a smile from you, a warmth flooding through your veins for the first time in a long time. “Will do, boss.”
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talesofstyles · 4 years ago
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Reconcile II
Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!
Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx
Read part I here
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Harry
“So… are we okay now?”
We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”
“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”
I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”
I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 
“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 
“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”
“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”
“I guess,” she says glumly.
I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.
Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.
Just like that. Without a fight.
I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 
“How’s your mum?” 
“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”
Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.
“Can I ask you something, daddy?”
“Anything, poppet.”
“Do you still get sad too?”
I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 
“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”
“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”
I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.
“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 
“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”
I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.
“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”
“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.
“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.
She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”
“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.
She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.
“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”
Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.
“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”
***
I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 
You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 
I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 
I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 
In hell.
And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 
I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.
And all hell breaks loose.
“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”
“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”
“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”
“That’s-”
“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 
“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”
“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”
“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.
“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 
Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.
I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.
“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”
“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”
“You chose to be there.”
“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”
“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.
“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”
“Harry, it’s too late.”
“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”
“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”
Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 
“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”
“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”
I nod.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”
“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”
I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 
“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”
I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 
But I don’t.
Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”
“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”
“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”
“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”
“When really…”
“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”
“Emma…”
“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 
I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 
But where do we go from there?
Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 
All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 
“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 
“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.
***
Emma comes from a big family. 
There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 
They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 
After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 
Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 
I hear voices as we walk inside.
“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.
Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”
“Oh.”
The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.
You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 
“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.
Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 
“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.
“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 
I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”
“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”
“FREYA!” Her dad barks.
Meg can barely contain her giggles.
“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 
The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.
Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”
“Luce,” Emma mutters.
“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”
“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”
Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.
“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.
“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.
“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”
The three of them nod in unison. 
“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 
“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”
We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 
Let’s just hope it stays that way.
***
There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 
I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 
Not yet. I need a moment.
These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 
I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.
“Harry?”
I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly.
“I should be the one apologising, Em.”
“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”
“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”
“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”
We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 
“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.
“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”
Emma laughs under her breath.
“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 
“He is.”
“That got legs?” I ask her.
“Possibly.”
“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”
“Harry…”
“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”
The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.
“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.
“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.
Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.
“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”
“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.
“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”
“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 
“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”
“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.
The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 
“Don’t be sad, mummy.”
“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”
“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.
“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”
“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.
Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”
“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”
Emma
“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”
I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.
Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.
However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.
Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 
We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 
“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”
Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”
“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”
“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 
“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”
“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Very well-endowed.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 
“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”
Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 
“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”
“Lovely. No.”
Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”
“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.
“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 
Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 
“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”
Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 
“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”
If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.
“Anything you might fancy or need?”
She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 
Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.
“Seriously?” She says.
“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”
“Like mentally?” I ask.
“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”
“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?
She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.
“Show me your bush,” she orders.
“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”
“And we’ll wash them?”
Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.
“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”
“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”
I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”
“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”
“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”
I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.
“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”
“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”
“Do you want a shape?”
“What?”
“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”
“No!”
Meg roars with laughter.
“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”
“Do I have to?”
“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”
I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.
“Thanks, Luce.”
“You don’t say this enough I feel.”
“We really don’t,” says Meg.
“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”
“I’m good.”
“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.
“Like?”
“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”
“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.
“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”
“That’s what condoms are for?” 
They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 
“How do I initiate it?”
“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”
“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”
“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”
Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?
“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.
“I haven’t got any condoms.”
Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?
“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.
“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”
I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.
“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”
He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.
“Crisps?”
Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”
Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”
I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 
“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.
And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 
“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.
“It can wait.”
My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 
Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.
“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 
In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.
You know what, sod it. 
I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 
I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 
I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?
I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 
“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.
I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”
“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”
“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”
I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”
“Is it your ex-husband?”
He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 
“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”
“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”
“I’m worried.”
“And what are you worried about?”
“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”
Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”
What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 
Harry
It was a knock on the door that woke me up.
When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?
“Emma?”
She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”
She takes a step back instead.
“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.
“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 
She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.
“I don’t think I can.”
So I go to her. 
The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.
I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”
The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”
“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”
“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”
I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”
Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”
I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 
We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 
I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”
Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 
And we go in out of the rain.
I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 
“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”
“A while. I was walking… thinking.”
“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”
Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 
“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 
Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”
“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”
She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”
“Please spare me the details,” I beg.
“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”
Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.
“Oh, Ems…”
I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 
For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.
“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.
I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 
Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.
I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.
My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 
“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.
She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.
“Yer a bloody ice cube!”
She laughs kind of evilly. 
We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.
“Talk to me,” she says softly.
“I’m taking time off work.”
“But you never take time off work?” 
“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”
I see her smile in the dim light.
“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”
This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.
My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”
“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”
“A puppy, huh?”
“A puppy.” 
“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”
“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”
“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 
“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”
We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 
“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 
“Hmm?”
“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”
And I’m done.
The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 
***
Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 
We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.
“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.
“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”
“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”
“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”
It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.
When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”
She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 
She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.
“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”
“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.
I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”
“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”
Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”
She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 
Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”
She moans softly in my ear.
“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.
Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”
“My face between your legs.”
***
Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 
Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.
We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 
Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 
“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”
“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”
“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”
“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.
I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”
“I’m serious.”
“You sound like Austen.”
She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”
“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”
She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”
“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”
“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”
“Not true-”
Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”
“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”
Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.
“Wanna dance?”
The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.
We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.
“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.
“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”
She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.
“Emma?”
She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”
“You don’t need an excuse.”
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 
***
“What the-”
“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”
“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.
Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?
And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.
I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.
“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.
“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 
Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”
I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.
“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.
“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.
“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”
“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”
In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 
“Duly noted.”
“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.
“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”
“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.
“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”
“Have you got your Aladdin?”
She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”
Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 
***
A month later…
I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.
The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.
I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.
I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 
Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.
I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 
I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 
Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 
I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?
I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.
I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.
In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.
Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.
Finally, I say, “surprise!”
Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”
“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”
That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.
I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 
I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”
“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.
“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.
“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.
Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”
“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”
“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”
“Deputy Dawg?”
“Bark Twain?”
We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.
SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”
“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.
“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”
“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.
“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”
We laugh.
“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”
Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 
It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.
Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 
Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.
“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”
“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”
Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”
“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”
She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.
“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.
“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.
Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”
That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.
After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.
Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”
Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”
I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”
She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”
Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”
“Oh, I will,” she teases.
“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.
Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.
Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.
“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.
“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.
“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”
“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 
Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”
Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.
“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 
All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 
I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”
When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”
“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 
I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 
Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”
“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.
“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”
“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”
“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.
“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”
We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”
“You what?” My eyes widen.
“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”
I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 
“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”
“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.
“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”
“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”
I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”
George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”
“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”
They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.
“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.
Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”
***
Emma
“Gary! This way, Gary!”
Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.
My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”
“Hell, why not.”
Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 
 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.
We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  
“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”
I nod. “I do.”
“The view was decent,” he grins. 
“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”
“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”
“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”
We laugh.
I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 
“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”
“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.
We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 
Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.
“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 
“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”
“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”
He progresses to a light canter. 
“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.
“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”
A car flashes us. 
I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 
Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.
I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.
“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”
“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.
“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”
“Gary,” the kids say in unison.
“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.
“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”
“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”
“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”
Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 
“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”
“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.
The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.
“Give our regards to June,” I say.
“Will do.”
He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”
“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.
I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.
“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”
I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 
“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”
There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.
***
“Are you calling my turkey dry?”
I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.
“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.
I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.
I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.
“A mince pie.”
“With cow mince?”
“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.
Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”
She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 
“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.
Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.
My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 
We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 
“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”
“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.
“That’s called Christmas milk.” 
“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.
“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”
“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.
“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.
Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 
It’s time.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?” 
I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”
-
tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh​ @umadirectioner​ ​
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space-helen · 3 years ago
Text
Heartbeat
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Words: 2586
Pairing: Fox Mulder x Reader
A/N: I hope this is ok!! I really enjoyed writing this :)
Request:  Do you think you could do a Mulder x Reader where the reader has diagnosed anxiety, and the only thing that helps her in panic attacks is listening to recordings of calming heartbeats to the point where she’s almost in love with the sound? And one of the creature’s abilities is to distract people by making hallucinations of their biggest weaknesses, and so in the middle of conflict it makes her listen to Mulder’s heartbeat, making her flustered, and she has to abruptly admit her feelings towards him and her fascination with hearts afterwards or while everything is happening? Bonus points if he or Scully find out she has a bunch of heartbeat ASMR in her search history, and they bring it up in conversation before the actual conflict, making her flustered before anything actually happens. (I also want to clarify, I’m not requesting an NSFW fic since I don’t know how you feel about it, I want it to be purely cutesy and romantic.) - Anon
______________________
The sounds of heartbeats played through the headphones as you relaxed backwards in your chair. You closed your eyes and focussed on the soothing pattern. Even if there was no regular pattern to the heartbeats you’d find them.
You breathed in through your nose and held your breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out. Today had been extremely stressful and your anxiety had been through the roof leading to a panic attack. You’d excused yourself from the situation and had come straight here.
Scully entered your shared office to see you behind your desk, going to her own she put down a file “You look relaxed.” she commented and when she had no response from you she turned to your desk. “Y/N?”
Again no response, the sounds playing through the headphones had consumed your mind. 
“Y/N?” she gently put a hand on your shoulder which had you opening your eyes quickly with a start and scrambling to pull the headphones off.
“Dana.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you. “I’m so sorry I was just listening to a tape and I guess I had the volume up high?”
“Well you either seemed totally engrossed or bored with it. Either way you were relaxed and that’s all that matters. You gave us a little scare earlier, I’m sorry I couldn’t excuse myself sooner” she apologised.
“It’s ok.” You reassured. “Today has been stressful. All those people-” you started to recount the event.
“Y/N, Y/N please don’t worry about it. It’s the end of our shift anyway you should go home.”
“Are you sure?”
“More than. Go on, I’ll be here a little while longer until Mulder comes back.”
“I don’t mind waiting for him too.”
“No. Really don’t worry. We’ll call you if it’s important, you need a break.”
You smiled “If you insist.” Standing up you moved to the coat stand to grab your bag and coat. “Thank you.”
Dana watched you leave the office and sat back and relaxed for a second before deciding to open the file in front of her. An hour soon passed before she was startled out of her workflow by the phone ringing.
Picking it up quickly she pressed the phone to her ear “Dana Scully how may I help?”
“Dana. It’s Y/N. Can you do me a huge favour?” your voice came from the other side of the line.
“Sure what is it?”
“I was supposed to return that tape I was listening to to the library tonight. Would you be able to? I’m so sorry I would have done it myself but I totally forgot and just remembered now.”
“Yeah sure. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
“Uh.” you hesitated and went quiet “Actually” you paused again “Nevermind, ignore me it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? If I’m out I don’t mind.”
There was a silence “Can you book me out a tape with heartbeat sounds? Anything will do.”
“Sure. Is that all?”
“Yeah that’s it. Thank you Dana.”
“No problem. Get some rest Y/N I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a lovely night.”
The phone call had ended and Dana had to admit she was slightly confused by your request. Standing up she moved over to your desk and picked up the cassette player. Curiosity took over and she was soon pressing the play button and bringing the headphones up to her ear to try and get a hint of what you were listening to.
The sound of heartbeats filled her ears and she quirked an eyebrow. She put the played and headphones back down before ejecting the tape and putting it back in it’s case.
Picking it up she returned to her desk and slipped it in her bag as footsteps approached her office. She turned to see Mulder approaching.
“How’d it go?”
He flopped into an empty seat in the office “We have something big on our hands, and not like we’ve seen before.”
“How urgent?”
“We’ll need to start first thing. For now though get some rest.”
Scully nodded “I will but you have to promise you will too.”
He put his hands up “I will.” he pushed himself to a standing position as he walked with Scully out of the building “How was Y/N today?” he questioned.
Scully smiled and quirked and quirked an eyebrow, she knew how much he liked her “She’s good. Had a bit of a wobble earlier but I think she’s ok. It happens to the best of us.”
“As long as she’s ok.”
“Yeah she is. Actually, I have to go and run an errand for her so I’ll catch you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.” he replied with a smile before parting.
Dana was soon arriving at the Library, she found the heartbeat tapes and looked through them and their descriptions. She noticed your name on many of the checkout lists and picked one that your name wasn’t present on.
She quickly signed back in your old tape and out the new, slipping it into her bag and she continued home.
You’d had a pretty decent night's sleep and were now entering the office. Putting your bag down on your desk you turned to take off your jacket, not realising someone else was in the room. 
“Do I not get a good morning?”
You turned in shock towards Mulder’s voice, he was now rounding his desk to perch on the edge. “I didn’t even realise. I’m so sorry.” you hung up your jacket and gave him a smile “Good Morning Mulder.”
“How was your evening?”
You perched on the edge of your own desk near Mulder “It was good. Dana sent me home and I just had something to eat and went to bed honestly. I was pretty tired. What about yours? How was yesterday?”
He kicked your foot gently with his own and spoke with a smile “I’m glad you had a nice evening. Mine was good and I pretty much did the same. Yesterday was ok, we do have something big on our hands though.”
“Oh yeah?” you questioned “Is it really big or are you just saying that? You have a tendency to over-exaggerate sometimes.” you teased
He grabbed a balled-up piece of paper from his desk and lightly chucked it at you “I’ve never exaggerated in my life.
You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a smug look.
“Ok maybe I have but I promise you this one is big.” He emphasised the word with his hands.
Dana heard laughter coming from the office and wasn’t surprised at all to see the two of you together in there. “Morning.” she greeted.
Mulder pushed himself off his desk “We should get a move on.” he gestured to the clock and grabbed his keys “I’ll meet you both by the car?”
“Sure.” you agreed. Standing up you went to grab your jacket again. Regretting even taking it off in the first place, if you’d known you’d been going out you wouldn’t have bothered.
“I managed to get you a new tape,” Dana said pulling it out of her bag and offering it to you.
You looked at her in shock briefly, you’d totally forgotten that you’d asked her to get you a new one, you must have been really tired when you’d called her. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” you could feel the embarrassment rise in you as you took the tape from her and slipped it into the top drawer of your desk. 
“I noticed you borrow heartbeat sounds a lot from the library. Practically every tape has been taken out by you at least once.” she said lightly with cheer in her voice.
“Yeah. It’s nothing really.”
“I’m just interested.”
“I think we should really get going.” You were getting nervous and your words were falling out. Adjusting your coat you left the office and headed towards the car. Dana knew exactly when to drop a topic and knew she’d probably pushed a little bit too far but she was soon following you.
The drive to the location didn’t take long. Picturesque scenery had stretched out around you as Mulder drove. The three of you practically fell out of the vehicle to be greeted by a farmhouse.
You began to walk towards the property when you felt Mulder gently grasp your wrist “There’s one thing you should both know.” he let go and the three of you formed a mini circle. “it apparently likes to project your biggest weaknesses when confronted, it uses them to get away and distract you. Just be careful.”
His eyes locked with yours and you nodded. Mulder was the one to lead the group into the house and made some hand gestures to suggest splitting up.
You slowly walked through the house, your footsteps echoing on the floorboards. The house was run down and abandoned but the light streaming through the windows gave it some life. It was abandoned but certainly not empty.
A creak in the next room caught your attention, slowly creeping into the room you laid your eyes immediately on the culprit. They were incredibly tall and had a rugged appearance but were backing themselves into a corner.
“Hi. I’ve heard that you’ve been causing some problems,” you spoke as you approached carefully. “That’s ok though, we can help you. You might be confused but if you just come with me and my colleagues.”
Your foot landed on a particularly loud floorboard and the person took an abrupt step towards you before slamming themselves back into the wall. “It’s ok. It’s ok it was just the floorboard.”
They started to shake their head violently before stopping and looking you dead in the eye. “Please” you pleaded.
You started to hear a heartbeat and brushed it off as your own, thinking you were getting nervous. “If you’d just come with me.” you took another step closer and the heartbeat got louder and very present in your ears. 
You took another step forward and it was soon rushing away from you and knocking over some of the last pieces of furniture in the house.
You kept your distance but turned with them. “Please just don’t be scared.”
The heartbeat was getting louder and you could hear your name being called and footsteps running up the stairs. Soon the heartbeat was so loud you couldn’t hear much else.
“Y/N?” Mulder came into the room and saw the ‘Monster’ but his eyes quickly found you and he could quickly see how uncomfortable you were. “What is it?” 
The man’s heart spiked in concern and the heartbeat that you could hear mirrored this. As he came closer it became unbearable. You knew what was happening and put out your arm to keep him away from you “Keep your distance.”’
The noise was pounding through your head. Usually, you found it comforting and you suppose there was comfort in the sounds but the amplification of them made them difficult. It was truly turning your biggest weakness into something unpleasant.
“What is it?” Mulder tried to take a step towards you.
Looking at the man you could see the concern in his eyes and the heartbeat became irregular, all you could do was shake your head and step away. “My weakness it’s-”
He wanted to help and his feet were instinctively moving towards you.
“Stop.” you shouted.
The man stopped in his tracks as you walked away “I can’t” you could feel yourself getting emotional, heat rising in your face and eyes getting wet. “Just deal with it.” you called.
“You need to tell me what you’re weakness is.” Mulder spoke.
“It’s… It’s you. Your heartbeat.” You reversed yourself into a corner.
Mulder looked between you and the creature. “And it gets worse the closer I get?”
You nodded and tried to ignore the heartbeat but it was extremely difficult.
Mulder started to approach the monster, there was a screech in your head and the heartbeat amplified more as if the monster was taking it out on you. You backed into a wall and slid down it, hands over your ears trying to gain some relief.
Mulder turned when he heard you sliding down the wall and realised how much you were being affected. Backing up he stood in the corner of the room. The heartbeats amplification lessened and you removed your hands but your eyes were reddened and threatening tears.
“Look. Just stop what you’re doing and come with us. We won’t hurt you, we’ll help you understand what’s happening.”
They took a step into the room. “That’s it. Just come with me to the car and we’ll get you somewhere where they can look after you.” Mulder coaxed
You began to push yourself up off of the floor when you heard a scuffle. Dana had come in through another door and crept up on them and injected them swiftly with a sedative which had them falling to the floor.
Mulder was at your side, putting an arm on the small of your back “It’s gone right?” 
You nodded “I’m sorry-”
“Don’t apologise I can’t even imagine.”
“Thank you Dana.” you smiled 
“He won’t be out for long, we should get someone to come collect him.”
Mulder nodded “Do you have any contacts?”
Scully nodded and was soon leaving to arrange a pick up
You moved to be beside Mulder “I think I have to explain what happened.”
“You don’t.” 
“I do.” the man moved to perch himself on the old dusty desk and you sat next to him “I use heartbeats to overcome anxiety and … well I’m pretty much in love with the sound. I think it chose your heartbeat to amplify because I think I like you Mulder. What happened there basically confirms it.” you let out a small laugh.
“If we’re putting all our cards on the table here.” he looked at you and you turned to him “I have many weaknesses including losing the ones I love and it used that and also used you. When I was walking through the house I saw bodies on the floor and most of them were yours. I kept going because I knew this he hadn’t physically killed anyone yet but when I saw you in pain and couldn’t have me near you? That really hurt.”
You nodded and looked at your hands “So what we’re both saying here is that we have feelings for each other.”
“I guess so.” he let out a breath “Will you let me take you for dinner tonight?”
You nodded “That’d be nice. I think we deserve it.”
“We do.” he smiled and stood up “I think we should probably get out of here before he wakes up.”
“Yeah, we should.” The two of you walked side by side as you left the property to meet Dana by the car, Mulder couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face.
“They’re on their way to come get him.” She turned to face Mulder properly “What’s got into you?” Scully questioned
Mulder just shrugged and walked over to the driver's side of the car and slid inside. Scully rolled her eyes “Looks like we’re leaving.” She opened the passenger’s side door as you got into the back.
As Scully’s contacts pulled up Mulder began to pull away. He briefly made eye contact with you in the rear-view mirror and smiled and you flashed him a smile of your own.
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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago
Text
Crush
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Philip “Lip” Gallagher x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1726 words
Warnings: none 
Summary: Lip develops a crush on the reader, Fiona’s childhood best friend
——————————————————————————————————
Fiona'd had friends of hers in and out of the house since Lip was a kid, but no one more so than you.
You were arguably her best friend in the entire world and everyone knew it. For the better part of both of your lives, you’d been inseparable and it was only natural that you get close with the rest of her family.
In a way, for them, it was like you were a part of their family, and even Frank spoke highly of you, which in itself was a feat. They just all seemed to love you.
Unfortunately though, as Lip got older, he didn't seem to feel the same way.
It wasn't that he didn't love you, because he did, and you were very important to him. It was just that he didn’t feel the same way for you that the rest of the Gallaghers did.
More than anything, he was in awe of you for everything that you were. You were confident and gentle, with more heart and soul than anyone he’d ever known. You were sweet, and caring, while also being a huge badass.
To Lip, you were everything.
...But he knew the truth.
You saw him as nothing more than your best friend's annoying baby brother, and that was never going to change. What did change though was how Lip wanted you to see him.
He didn’t want to be that in your eyes, not when he could be so much more.
Not that you could ever know that.
Lip was positive that he would die if you ever found out how he really thought about you. Nothing could ever be more embarrassing, especially because he had a pretty good idea of how it would go.
You were the one woman in the world he couldn't be confident around, and it had everything to do with the history you two shared.
You had helped Fiona raise him; and Ian, and Deb, and Carl. Hell, even now, you picked Liam up from daycare three days of the week.
You knew everything about every single one of the Gallaghers and the crush that Lip harbored wasn't going to be anything more than a cute little joke.
What you didn't seem to realize was that Lip was a grown man now.
He didn't need you to take care of him now, not anymore.
You were no longer the girl who came around and bothered him when he tried to hang out by himself, and you certainly weren't the girl who'd found his playboys under his bed and put them back without a word anymore either.
You were attainable, as far as age, feelings, and experience went but that didn't mean that Lip could make you his.
Every member of his family was too invested in all this for him to start going out with you, not to mention that Fiona would never allow it. She would sooner end his life than let him be with you.
So Lip kept quiet.
It was much easier to do than opening that can of worms.
He opened the refrigerator door slowly, his hand lazily falling on the neck of the bottle. It was as if the motion was a habit by now, and he didn't even have to think about it.
Across the kitchen was you, giggling at whatever was being said over the phone. He didn't know who you were talking or what it was all about; all he knew was that you were having an amazing time.
There was nothing Lip wouldn't do to hear that laugh but he just wished that he could be the one making you act that way.
Knowing that he couldn’t was more than enough to anger the younger male, who slammed his near-empty bottle down on the counter without a word and stormed out.
You hadn’t really been paying attention to him before that, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was gone. It would have been impossible not to but what you didn't know was why?
It certainly couldn’t have had anything to do with you.
You had just been on the phone with your cousins in Jersey. They spent most of the time arguing with one another more than talking to you, but they were also a laugh riot.
...But Lip didn’t know that.
In his mind, you had been laughing and carrying on with the greasy yet somehow charming usher from the theatre who loved you. He hit on you all the time and it wouldn’t have surprised Lip if you’d hooked up with him.
There was no way for him to think about it that didn't make his blood boil.
You were his, you just didn't know it yet.
~ Normally, you would have let Lip be.
Sometimes he could be dramatic and it was possible that he’d just gotten upset about something else and you’d read the room wrong. However, you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.
So, naturally, you went to go check on him.
If you were wrong, you could just move on and go about your business, but if you were right, you might be able to make him feel better.
“Hey kid, what’s going on?” you asked, knocking lightly on his door frame to let him know that you were there. You didn’t want to say anything if he was busy, but he didn’t seem to be.
In fact, he was far from it.
Lip was just sitting there on his bed, his beer bottle long discarded on the floor. It was funny, or perhaps it would have been, if he wasn’t so clearly upset.
“Don’t call me that” he snapped, catching you off guard.
There was something so pointed and aggressive about the way he spoke and it shocked you. Maybe you had done something after all, but you had no idea what it was.
“Okay, sorry. Is there something going on?” you asked, doing your very best to be understanding, even though you were more and more confused with each passing moment.
You were just lost.
Nothing that was happening made any sense at all to you.  
“No, why would there be?” he questioned, that accusatory tone still evident in his voice.
You weren’t even sure why he wouldn’t just tell you what it was, but since you were clearly gonna have to pull it out of him, you sat down.
“Out with it?” you suggested, though you both knew it was more of an order. If he didn’t want you to call him a kid, he’d have to stop acting like one.
Usually, Lip was the most mature of the Gallagher siblings but times like these made you wonder if that was true. It didn’t really make sense that he couldn’t just tell you what was wrong.
He sighed at first, the deep sort of sigh that you’d gotten used to hearing in this house. Someone always had a problem that needed to be worked out, even Lip, apparently.
“I don’t like that you talk to that guy, he’s trash, even more than most of the people around here” he commented finally.
There was a casualness in the way he spoke, though you could see just how hard this was for him in his eyes.
“Who? What are you talking about Lip?” you asked, genuinely confused this time. Clearly he thought you were talking to someone else but you had no idea who it could be.
You haven't been seeing anyone new lately.
“That guy from the theatre, what’s his name-” He huffed, scrambling a little when it came to his name. Lip had always been so focused on how much he hated him that he didn’t pay attention to what he said.
All he knew was the guy was not good enough for you and he was tired of hearing about him.
“I haven’t talked to him in forever. Why do you even care?” you asked, finding it hard not to be offended that he clearly didn’t think very highly of you.
He assumed that you were just going out with whatever guy paid attention to you, and honestly, that hurt. You had never been that kind of girl, but even if you had, it wasn’t really his business.
“Because, you’re way too good for a guy like that” he groaned, going for broke. The cat was out of the bag and there was no getting it back in now.
Gingerly, Lip reached out to take your hand in his own, his fingers brushing over the back of your knuckles slowly. The skin of his hands was noticeably rougher than yours, likely to working construction over the summer, but you didn’t mind.
Instead, you chose to ignore the strange feeling that overtook you at the touch. This was Lip, and the fact that you were even in this position was not alright
You’d known him all your life.
“Lip-” you started, but he stopped you before you could continue.
He knew that as soona s you said what you needed to say, this would be over and he at least had to get out what he was thinking before that happened.
If this ruined any friendship you'd ever had, he had to know that he got it all out there.
“I care because the right guy for you is right here, I always have been” he continued, startling you with his admission but he was far from done. Lip had been sitting on his feelings for so long, it was almost a relief to be honest.
“I know you probably think it’s just some stupid crush but it’s far from that. I’m in love with you”
By the time he’d finished, the male was almost entirely out of breath but neither of you minded. In fact, you were just trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.
Lip was in love with you? How was that possible?
“I have to go” you decided finally, the walls of the room felt like they were closing in and you could hardly even breathe. It was ridiculous that you were even considering this, but you couldn’t help it.
Was it possible you cared about him in that way? Then, as if you hadn’t been handed enough, you realized something. What happened when Fiona found out?
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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years ago
Text
Branded - Chapter 57 (Final)
Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You find your relic.
(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)
AO3
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You’d only been to the ancient Sanctum a few times, with strict access to the library for your studies and nowhere else, and normally you would be excited to visit the unofficial headquarters of the Mystic Arts.
But now, as you followed Wong to the room of portals that would lead to the Nepal sanctum, your stomach twisted and your heart raced. You couldn’t even enjoy the fact this was where Strange had gone on his near-disastrous pilgrimage. The idea of the Ancient One kicking him out on his ass was an entertaining one, though you were still glad she eventually trained him. As irritated as you were about a lot of things regarding the former surgeon, he and Wong both had taught you nearly everything you knew.
Plus, you’d seen the scars on his hands. As arrogant and egotistical as he appeared, Strange had suffered to get where he was. Not unlike yourself. Not unlike Bucky.
The Orb of Agamotto hung within the circular room where other sorcerers consulted with it, verifying that the magical Earthly shields were still intact. Past them were three doors leading to the other sanctums, including the one in Kathmandu.
You and Bucky followed Wong through, the familiar feeling of displacement shifting your stomach and throwing you off balance for a moment. Neither Wong nor Bucky were as unsteady as you were. It had been something you were embarrassed about, but according to Strange during one of your lessons, it simply meant you were more sensitive to spatial displacement.
As Wong led you both through the ancient stone hallways, past the commons where other sorcerers were in training, doubt crept along your nerves. Someday, possibly sooner than you were prepared, all of these people were going to follow you. Look to you for guidance, for teaching. For protection.
How were you supposed to become the next Ancient One if you couldn’t even walk through a portal without getting dizzy?
This wasn’t going to work. The idea was crazy enough to begin with. The Ancient One had to be wrong. You were going to step into her office and nothing would happen. You would make a fool of yourself; you weren’t any more talented or skilled than any other sorcerer. Just half a year ago, you’d had no idea demons and magic were even real.
And now, you were expected to carry on the mantle as one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth? How was that even possible? How could you ever be worthy enough to—
Wong opened a door using a complicated series of hand gestures, and as soon as you stepped through, your panicked mind fell silent. Energy thrummed along your skin, setting the hairs upright.
“Here it is.”
Wong’s announcement was unnecessary; you would know this place in your dreams, even though you had never been.
It was a simple room with a single large, circular window pointed towards the mountains over the city. Potted plants perched on most available surfaces that weren’t covered with books, scrolls, and odd knickknacks.
There was only a single writing desk pushed to the side, humble and unobtrusive. The rest of the room was empty space with a single well-worn green rug in the middle. But the plants made everything seem alive and verdant. It felt very much like a place the Ancient One would spend her time. It was a reflection of her, in a way. Quiet, but hidden with secret truths.
“Take a look around,” Wong said, but you were already moving. Slowly and with intense focus, you circled the room, reaching out and feeling, not with your hands but with your mind.
Odd and powerful energy pervaded the room, muted by spells but still apparent to you. They were coming from the artifacts that were laid out, seemingly casually, on the shelves and desks.
Most of them seemed as plain and unimportant as the room itself. A cracked vase with the lip stained red. A golden helmet that was varnished and faded, but two glittering horns jutted from the temples. A knobby staff with a smooth, grey stone fixed at one end, as modest as any walking stick except for the melodic hum that emanated from the stone. You had a feeling neither Wong nor Bucky could hear it.
But despite all the weird, wonderful oddities in your reach, you were drawn elsewhere. You approached one corner of the room where lay a pile of old scrolls and their cloth wrappings, and moved them aside with care to reveal what was hidden underneath.
It was a sword hilt. Just the hilt. There was no blade, not even a piece of broken metal. The metal was dulled with time and flaked with rust, the pommel grey and dirty.
You reached out and hesitated. Fingertips inches away, something stopped you. The knowledge that once you took hold of the relic, everything would change.
You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky.
He was watching you with close attention, as was Wong, but when he caught your eye he gave a small smile of encouragement. He supported you, even though he had to know what this meant, or at least had a good idea of it.
Not every sorcerer found their relic within the Ancient One’s study.
Comfort and warmth, so strong it could only be described as love, flooded across the bond and washed away your fears. You returned his smile, even if it was shaky, and you held on to that feeling as you turned back to the hilt.
You closed the distance, wrapped your fingers around the relic, and lifted it.
It was surprisingly heavy; that was your only observation before it began. The hilt thrummed in your palm, vibrating so fast you nearly dropped it.
The rust flaked away from the metal, leaving it polished and silver. The grey pommel was shaken of its dirt, and you realized it was white bone, the metal wrapping around it to form the grip and crossguard.
The thrumming didn’t stop, but you couldn’t let go even if you wanted to. Your fingers seized around the metal, energy teeming up your hand and arm. When it reached your right shoulder, all the way up to your pentagram, the sigil burned in a way it hadn’t done since the ritual.
Bucky must have sensed your panic because he rushed forward, but you backed away from him fast, instinct screaming at you to put a safe distance between you now.
It was a good thing you had; the energy from your sigil exploded down your arm, through your hand, and into the hilt. A burst of red light shot outward, forcing you to turn away from the blinding beam.
When the light dimmed and you could see again, blinking away the after images, you stared at the sword. That’s what it was now. A glowing red blade, seemingly made entirely of light. The energy that came from it was purely of the demon realm, scorching and sulfuric.
“What…” You choked the words past your dry throat. “What is this?”
There were only a handful of times you’d ever seen Wong shocked. So, that was three powerful sorcerers you’d rendered speechless in the span of a day.
“The blade of Hell, or so it is spoken. None in the history of the order had been able to unlock its powers, rendering it anything more than a broken hilt.” He leveled you with a somber stare. “It is called Daemonio Vexatur. Which means—“
“—to become a demon.”
Wong raised a brow.
“Rough translation, but yes.”
“So, it’s a demon sword?” asked Bucky, eyeing the glowing blade. He was understandably wary, and honestly, was accepting what was happening better than you were. You were still stuck on the fact that you were holding a glowing-freaking-sword in your hand.
“Yes. And no,” Wong said in traditional teaching-fashion. “A demon cannot wield it, but it takes demonic energy to power.”
“Oh. So that’s why my sigil and my entire arm feel like they’re on fire.”
Bucky’s mouth opened and he took a step forward, protectiveness sizzling along the bond, and you gave him a hurried smile.
“Kidding. Sort of.” You smiled wider through your clenched teeth. “It is really uncomfortable.”
Bucky’s dark look told you he didn’t believe you, and with what you imagined was coming from your end of the bond, you didn’t blame him. Holding the sword was like holding on to a live wire that was also burning. There was a molten jolt connecting the hilt to your sigil, and you were just hoping to not get incinerated in the process.
And just like that, the connection was gone, and the relief of your arm no longer being on fire was dimmed by the disappointment as the sword was extinguished, leaving nothing more than a gleaming hilt.
“What happened?” You frowned, eyeing the relic as if searching for an on switch.
“It will take time and training to effectively control your relic.”
“How long?” You looked up when Wong didn’t answer immediately, catching the serious dent in his brow.
“It’s hard to say. No one in living memory has wielded the blade, and it was believed no one ever would.”
Wong gave a heavy sigh.
“So of course, you would be the one to wield it.”
You returned your gaze to the relic and turned over the hilt in your hand, admiring the metal and bone. You wondered if the bone was from a demon, a safe bet considering.
“So.” You carefully put down the hilt and turned to give Bucky your best serious face. “How does it feel to have a wizard girlfriend with a lightsaber?”
Wong rolled his eyes. He knew you well enough by now to know what you were doing, but he didn’t comment on your attempts to over your fear with humor. He muttered something about reporting to Strange as he left the office.
But Bucky…
Worry and fondness conflicted across the bond, struggling to coexist. He stepped forward, the green cloth tunic he’d found in one of the drawers of your room stretched unfairly tight across his chest. It was the largest he could find in a hurry, and it was nearly enough to distract you from your own anxieties.
“I think…” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, drawing you into an embrace that you melted into easily. “That I’m scared for you. I’m confused as hell what this means, and I’m guessing this isn’t going to make your life any easier or less complicated. But… I’m also proud of you.”
You could sense the pride easily, but Bucky was trying to bury the fear that was close to terror. He truly was scared of what this meant. You were too, and the Ancient One’s words weighed heavily on your shoulders.
There was a questioning feeling tugging at your thoughts, and you remembered too late that Bucky could sense the same anxiety, even if he didn’t have all the details. So you smoothed out your tumultuous thoughts and covered them the best way you knew how.
“You say that to all the wizard girlfriends.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“That is what swords do.”
Bucky pulled back far enough to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but when he touched his horns to yours it was with such gentleness that you nearly forgot to breathe. But breathe you did, drinking in his familiar, soothing scent and allowed the tension to drain from your muscle.
“We should head back.” Bucky said after a moment of intimate, comfortable silence in which you finally relaxed. “Got a bastard to catch.”
You reluctantly let go first, knowing he was right and you couldn’t stay here forever. Turning toward the sword hilt, you reached for it and paused. You took a small detour and picked up an old, ratty cloth nearby and carefully wrapped the relic within. Until you had a better grasp of how to wield the sword, it was probably a wiser idea to not handle it directly. You had no idea if it was sentient like Strange’s cloak, and it would be better not to accidentally set it off. Slicing off your own leg was a poor way to convince anyone that you were the next Ancient One.
On your journey back down the halls toward the portal door, Bucky said, “So… what are you going to name it?”
He smiled at your sideways glance.
“All cool swords get a name. It’s kind of a universal rule.”
Maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did, because you had no idea he was such a damn nerd.
“Yeah? You’ll have to bestow all your sword knowledge on me.”
“Is that a sexual innuendo?”
“It is now.”
Bucky’s smile died on his lips when you were no longer at his side. He paused and looked back where you had stopped at the threshold to the portal room.
“What if I can’t do this?” The doorway before you was no longer just a doorway. It was an insurmountable hurdle, and your feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. “What if I fail?”
Bucky approached slow and steady, his expression gentle and fond.
“You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.” A warm hand softly cupped your cheek, his human one, and you leaned into it. He laughed silently at your predictable need to be touched, but his expression faded into something more serious. “But on the very slim chance you do, then you get back up and you start again. Just as you always have.”
Your stomach fell. Bucky couldn’t understand what failure meant in your case. You didn’t even know what it meant, but you could guess. If you failed to be the Ancient One everyone needed… then there might not be any second chances.
Bucky wrapped you in his arms one more time, undoubtedly sensing his words of encouragement hadn’t hit as effectively as he’d wanted.
“Whatever this means, you finding that relic… Whatever happens when we find Zemo...” Bucky’s voice was deep in his chest, a rumbling sound that never failed to comfort you. “I��ll be here.”
You returned his embrace, gripping him tightly as you pressed your cheek against his chest.
“I know.”
And you did, too. Bucky would be there for you. Not because he was compelled to be, and not out of a sense of duty or guilt to protect you. He would be by your side by choice.
And that fact made Zemo’s escape, the Ancient One’s words, and your own self-doubt a little easier to bear. Because you and Bucky would weather it.
Together.
“When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful.” –David Bowles
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seraphdarlimg · 4 years ago
Text
wish I were...
after Harry kisses reader, she watches him mesmerized as his ex walks by
‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST. WORD COUNT - 2,109
A/N: this is the first imagine I’ve ever posted on here hehe. but this most likely will be a 2-3 part mini series of pure angst...so yay!
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   "My goodness, I can't believe it's been a year and this is how we're celebrating it? " I take a sip from my wine glass with a raised brow towards Harry. We were sat on the floor at the recording studio, having a makeshift little picnic to celebrate a year. A whole year of a beautiful friendship. "Well I thought it'd be fitting, ya know this is where we met and stuff. Look, I even got those Korean chips that you snacked on that day!" I laugh as he comically picks up a chip and places it in his mouth, followed by an exaggerated moan. I try to hide the blush rapidly heating up my face at how much effort he put into this silly thing. It started as a little joke I brought up to him one day when we were having a lazy day, and of course Harry would take it seriously. He planned the little picnic basket after a day in the studio when everyone else left and he had asked me to stay a little longer to help him with lyrics and whatnot. It was a complete surprise and I couldn't help but adore how happy and proud he was setting this up. 
"Alright I gotta give it to ya H, you are the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for. I'm just happy that you didn't include those disgusting kale chips of yours." The smile that hasn't left his face drops into a shocked and offended look. 
"Hey, you said you wouldn't make fun of my addiction anymore." He scoots closer to me, gently poking my rib to which I immediately jump and swat his hand away. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry!" I giggled when he makes himself comfty sat right next to me. 
Subconsciously, I move closer till his shoulder touched mine. "I like this sweater, it's fluffy and keeps people warm." I say, huddling into the fabric that Harry gave me to wear when it got colder. "You know what, I like all your sweaters H, they're all impeccable."   He chuckles, "really? It looks better on you than me, bubs." I smile, using the over-sized sleeves to cover my face and faking a groan. "Oh you would with that cliché ass line."  "It's true! Beautiful in m'clothes." He mumbles and I had to only respond with gratefully lending my shoulder as a resting spot for his head. Considering he literally had to bend his whole body to do so every time he does this, I never understood how he found this comfortable. We shared a comfortable silence for a minute, sipping on our wine, the bottle nearly finished. The courage coming from it is telling me this would be the perfect time. It's the right setting to finally tell him that my feelings go beyond friendship and that it has been since the first month. The thought made me nervous at first, but there had been so many signs from him that had me thinking he's feeling the same way. Maybe those were just my expectations and how loving Harry is, but every time I look at him, I'm mesmerized. "Honestly don't know what I'd do without you bubs." Harry suddenly says and I snap out of my thoughts to glance down at him staring at his empty glass. My heart started beating fast and my breathe hitched when he pulls away only a few inches away to look back at me "This was a tough year and you've been there with me through it all, haven't been this close to someone in that short of time." He says lowly, looking right into my eyes. I take his hand in my small ones and play with his fingers in comfort, as we reflected on how this was both the best and worst year for him. While he became such a successful solo artist after the band and created the best relationships in his life, he reached a mental low dealing with his own insecurities and went through a breakup that took a major toll on him. They ended on good terms, but Harry went through the aftermath of a loss alone. I came in a month after his break up, hired as a lyricist to help him get out of this creative block but also to help him realize how much he was really worth as a person. It was a gradual slow process of friendship at the start, but it quickly blossomed into becoming best friends, growing feelings in between for me. "You're so good to me, I don't deserve it." He was so close and I couldn't tell if I was leaning in or not. My chest feels like it's bursting. "Harry, you've done so much for me, don't put yourself down like that. You deserve my love, mkay?" He looked so vulnerable, staring into my eyes as I couldn't pinpoint what emotion he was feeling right now. I was always able to read Harry easily, but maybe it was the wine that made it harder to understand what was racing through his mind. I couldn't register it. His lips on mine were foreign but felt right, like they fit perfectly. His hands cupping my face gently made me realize this was actually happening. My best friend who I've loved for so long was finally kissing me. "You absolutely deserve mine... "                                                        ***    My anxiety was getting the best of me. The party wasn't like any other rowdy and crowded New Year's Eve celebration. It was a gathering of close friends and mutual at a penthouse with just enough drinking and fun shenanigans. I knew all these people and they knew me, yet it wasn't easy to breathe regularly for some reason. I smiled and laughed along with the conversation among the circle of friends I situated myself in with Harry standing to my right, two people in-between us. I anxiously played with my fingers wrapped around a bulbous wine glass, zoned out but somewhat participating with the group. I caught his eyes, both of us giving a smile when he shot me a quick goofy face. His eyes trailed down to my hands, an obvious tell. I respond with a reassuring smile, placing my hand on my chest to which he steps outside and moves to stand next to me. I soften as he places a hand casually on my back, rubbing up and down. The nerves die down a bit. Usually, I would of been full comfortable but it was different now. After the kiss Harry and I shared, nothing had changed as much as I wanted it too. There was still the casual flirting and touchy gestures, but other than that, Harry never brought it up. "Soo, what now?" I had asked him when he dropped me off at my apartment. He gives me a tight smile and takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. "Still my best girl." I was confused afterwards, not fully understanding how he felt towards me. "Hey, I kind of wanted to talk to you about yesterday... " I approached him in the studio, his sweater keeping me warm that morning. "Oh yeah, you never told me what you wanted for Christmas. And by the way, I'm gonna need that sweater back sooner or later." He chuckles, going back to writing down chord progressions. Him avoiding the subject made me think he didn't want to talk about it, so I stopped trying. It made me insecure a bit to show him any type of affection back, but I didn't have it in me to tell him when I'm engulfed in his huge frame, feeling safe and happy at the moment. What made me snap out of my thoughts was his hand leaving my back and slipping into his jacket pocket. He then started being part of the funny story Mitch was telling, including his own side and little comedic comments that made the group laugh. As much as it brought a smile to my face, there was nothing more I wanted to do than take his arm, wrap it around me and kiss his cheek before laying my head on his chest. He took a second here and there to glance at me, probably aware how tired i was getting even though it was only a few minutes before midnight. The kiss defiantly affected something here, as much as Harry was trying to show that it hasn't, I can at least appreciate the acknowledgment that he shared similar feelings towards me. Maybe this was him thinking about the possibilities afterwards, knowing Harry wasn't very much a confrontational person and has taken time to learn to process things more logically rather than pure emotional instinct. When he catches me staring and throws a knowing smirk followed by a wink, I melt right on the spot but at the same time, holding back from rolling my eyes. I felt his stare kept on me when I looked away, feeling less frustrated and more understanding of his situation. Maybe I do just need to give him time... When I looked back at him, he was now looking away at something else apart from the group. I didn't give it a second glance till I noticed he was fully distracted before Mitch kept calling his name but getting no response back. Harry was in deep trance at something more fascinating than his friend's story, and when I caught sight of what was distracting him, I fully understood why. She stood out, so it wasn't to hard to point her out. But of course she would, she looks stunning in that dress that happens to only be a different shade of color from mine. The natural glam and brightening smile on her face as she talked to mutual friends perfected her look, but it was the sound of her melodic voice that just set the deal. It was her laughter from across the room that caught his attention first, what made him break his gaze on me to her. My first thought was concern for Harry and if he was suddenly feeling overwhelmed or distraught by her presence after a breakup. But then I looked back at him and only saw longing and adoration. It was a look I only was recently familiarized with. I purse my lips to hide the frown set on my face while I felt my heart beat much faster initially, watching him mesmerized as she walks across the floor to greet more party guests. Her blue eyes wide and shining, most likely something Harry was dying to see once again as he hoped she would turn his way. Is this what hopelessness feels like? Mitch gave up on trying to catch his attention as soon as he realized who Harry was looking at, and so did the rest of the group. But here I was, desperately looking up at him in hopes that he would suddenly break away and meet my own eyes that stood right next to him. "Guys! The count downs about to start!" Someone called out, followed by cheers and applause as everyone slowly started gathering towards the balcony to see the firework show and celebration of the city below. She moves away from the crowd though, choosing to be semi alone next to the aquarium with a glass of martini in her hand. More people started crowding around us, the group disintegrated into a whole, but my focus was on Harry. As much as my anxiety and tiredness was getting worse, it couldn't compare to the ache in my chest when he takes a hesitant step towards her direction. In a second, my hand flies towards his and gently tugs to me in a last ditch of desperation while I softly call out his name. Maybe it was the way he stopped and turned his head slightly before completely pulling away and walking towards her, leaving me engulfed with the crowd alone. Or that I could picture the loving look on his face when she finally sees him approaching and gives him a welcoming smile while the sound of people counting down from 20 is muddled into the background. All I could imagine to hear was his small 'hi' and compliment for how beautiful she looks, knowing how nervous he would be. "3, 2, 1! Happy New Years!" The celebration of those around me drowned out my glossy eyes as I see Heather take Harry's hand in hers, sharing that same complete adoration look on her face that I was only just becoming familiar with.
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part 2 A/N: feedback would greatly be appreciated :) 
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago
Text
VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)
hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!
word count: 4.5k
SERIES MASTERPOST
masterlist
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Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.
“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.
“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.
Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.
“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”
“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.
“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”
Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.
She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.
“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.
“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”
She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!
Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door. 
“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.
“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”
“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.
“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door. 
It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.
“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”
You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.
The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there. 
Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon. 
You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa. 
“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.
Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.
Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.
“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.
“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”
“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!” 
You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.
“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.
“What? No, Harry--”
“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away. 
Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address. 
Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.
“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.
The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.
“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door. 
Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.
His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.
“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.
“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.
“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.
“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms. 
“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.
“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.
“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.
“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”
Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.
“So what do you suggest?”
You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.
Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.
“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”
You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.
What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.
Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.
“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.
“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?” 
“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”
Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.
“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.
You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.
“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”
Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops. 
Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped. 
“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”
You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well? 
The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation. 
It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords. 
At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.
“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped. 
“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.
The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.
“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.
You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.
Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.
Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy. 
You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop. 
Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines. 
“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago. 
“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you. 
Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down. 
You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still. 
Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.
“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him. 
“Have you ever run a marathon?”
“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”
You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.
“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move. 
“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.
Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.
The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again. 
“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.
You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.
“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.
You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.
“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath. 
“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.
“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.
“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.
You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.
Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?
“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.
“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well. 
“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.
“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.
“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”
“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out. 
You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.
Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.
You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.
Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch. 
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zukkoxx · 4 years ago
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confessing to you!
w/ bakugo, deku, shoto
bakugo 💥 (forced confession)
bakugo refused to admit he had a crush
it didn’t matter how obvious it was, he’d always deny it.
when people called him out about the way he yelled at you a little quieter than usual,
or that he put up with you more than his other classmates
or that he actually asked you if you were okay when he sent you a big blow during a sparring match,
he’d just make an excuse. saying he didn’t want to deal with your whining.
which was completely out of your character
you were as big of a hot head as him, which is probably one of the reasons why he liked you.
the point is, he would have to be held at gun point to confess to you. or so he thought.
denki knew about the blond’s little crush, without his knowledge. and the little bastard mustered up a plan to encourage him to confess.
it was monday, and present mic had just assigned a group project to the class for the week.
naturally, you, momo, denki, and bakugo became one group, being people that worked well together.
it wasn’t long before you finished the project, and by thursday, you and the others began practicing the presentation and making a few final edits.
however, this particular day, denki seemed to be acting strange.
for one, he didn’t sit next to momo like he usually did. he slid into the seat next to you, where bakugo usually sat.
he was also more flirty than usual. a lot more than the playful banter he did to get you flustered.
“oh y/n, you’re so smart! your part of the presentation looks amazing. i like a girl with some brains ya know ;)”
“y/nnn can you pronounce this word for me? wahhh it sounds much better coming from you!”
“hey y/n, what do you say i take you in a date tonight? sounds fun right!”
those types of comments continued on throughout the class until the next period bell rang and everyone began to part ways.
denki rushed out of the classroom, speed walking to his next class, knowing his angry friend would be after him.
he didn’t get far though, when a hand grabbed his collar and pushed him against a locker. denki looked up at the red eyes of his friend, shivering in fear.
“what the hell was that stunt you pulled back there dunceface!?” bakugo asked, coming severely close to the sparky boy.
“i-i-i don’t know what you’re talking about dude!”
“do you think i’m stupid? you were flirting with y/n right in front of me! you know how i feel about them-” bakugo stopped himself before he said too much, but a familiar smirk was already spreading across denki’s face.
“so you do like them?”
“obviously dumbass. but here’s no way in hell i’d tell them.” bakugo scoffed.
“why nottt?” denki whined
“i doubt they like me anyways! and besides, i don’t need another side character clinging onto me. it’s a stupid little crush. i’ll be over it in no time.”
“that sounds like loser talk to me bakugo.” denki shrugged.
“what the heck do you mean you idiot!?” bakugo yelled.
“i mean...you wouldn’t want someone else to confess to y/n right? someone with the balls to try to get them. they’re pretty cute...i might even try myself-” denki’s sentence was cut off by a flashy slap to his neck.
“as if i’d let some low life extra confess to them before me. especially not you!” bakugo yelled. “i’ll confess to them. i’ll confess and they’ll accept it....or dieee.”
friday had rolled around, and you had approached your locker at the end of the day.
opening it, you stepped back in surprise when a singular rose fell out of it.
you picked it up, and proceeded to read the note that was attached to it.
i like you...you idiot. i don’t know how you haven’t figured it out yet, but i like you. meet me at my dorm tonight so i can say it in person. >:(
- katsuki bakugo
deku 🥦 (accidental confession)
getting izuku to confess was a pain in the ass.
he wanted to, he really did
but his shyness and overthinking didn’t allow him.
every time he would get close to trying to confess, he thought of all the possible ways it could go wrong
what if they didn’t like me back?
what is i mess up and totally ruin everything?
usually, izuku was thankful for the way his brain was able to come up with many solutions for different situations.
it was especially useful in his training to becoming a hero.
but at this moment, he just wished his brain didn’t think so much!
in reality, there had always been a mutual pining going on between the two of you.
you liked him too, but you never thought about confessing.
he was trying to become the number one pro-hero, and always had so much going on. there’s no way he would be thinking about being in a relationship right now.
so, it had been like that for a few months. a constant pattern where you and izuku would smile at each other sweetly, or you’d compliment each other during training.
he’d walk you to your dorm when it was late at night, and give you tips on how you could improve your hand on hand combat.
honestly, people from the other classes already thought you two were dating, and you even confused your classmates when you’d act like a complete couple in front of them.
maybe it was the god’s of fate who were tired of the both of you silently gushing over each other....not so silently
but whatever compelled izuku to say what he did, you thanked it.
it was lunch time, and you and izuku were in an intense conversation about your hero internships.
you were telling him about how you helped your boss catch and detain a criminal. you were really proud of yourself, considering you basically did it all by yourself since the hero you were interning was caught up with some other thugs.
izuku listened in interest, smiling wider as you told your story.
“that’s amazing, y/n!”
“thanks izuku! honestly in the beginning i thought i wouldn’t be able to catch him, but i kept trying. plus ultra right?” you teased.
“of course y/n. see, that’s why i like you so much. you have so much passion and integrity that i admire so much!” the green haired boy beamed.
it was silent for a few seconds while you both processed what he said.
when izuku realized he basically threw himself under the bus, he tried to deny it.
“i-i mean-”
“you like me?” you asked hesitantly, hoping you heard him right.
“NO! i mean- sure i-” he stopped himself before he said anything else he’d regret. he decided it was finally time to come clean. “yes...i like you y/n. i have for a while now.” he sighed.
shit, here comes the rejection....
“why didn’t you say anything sooner!?” you asked, making izuku look at you in shock.
“w-what?”
“i like you too izuku...” you shyly confessed. “i didn’t knowing you felt the same. i just thought you were being your usual nice self.”
“well i do like you y/n. and i’m glad you like me back.” izuku sighed, softly taking a few of your fingers in his hand.
“yeah...i am too.”
shoto ❄️🔥(straightforward confession)
honestly, todoroki was the most oblivious as it could get when having a crush.
he didn’t really understand the idea of romance or love, having his childhood being stripped from the emotion.
so when he felt his heart tug a little more when you smiled at him, it confused him.
when he found himself wanting to know how your day went, he wondered why he cared so much.
he thought you were like every other one of his friends, but there was obviously something more.
so, he tired to distance himself from you to try to figure out what he was feeling.
maybe being away for a while would let him get his head straight.
it had been a few weeks, and you noticed he talked to you a lot less than usual. there wasn’t anymore soft smiles when you walked into class in the morning
and he didn’t even walk with you to the classes you shared like he usually did.
when you approached him to ask about it, he shut you down quickly. “i’ve just been busy, y/n.”
you decided to respect his decision. maybe he just didn’t want to be friends anymore.
but that was completely the opposite!
it was so hard being away from you. every minute he wondered what you were doing and if you hated his guts for shutting you out.
as a last attempt, he went to ochako to get answers. maybe she would help him figure out what was going on in his head.
“todoroki...you have a crush.” she stated as if it was the most obvious thing.
it was
a crush?
he supposed she right. why else would he be feeling this way? yeah. he definitely liked you.
so he didn’t let the confusion linger, heading to your dorm right after realizing.
he knocks on your door, and you peak out to see who it was.
“oh? hey shoto.” you muttered, opening the door a little more. “hi y/n. i just wanted to say...i’m sorry for ignoring the last few weeks, and i like you.”
you stood frozen, shocked by the sudden confession.
“if you don’t feel the same, it’s unfortunate, but i respect it.” shoto added, feeling eerie at your silence.
“i do!” you blurted out. “i like you too.”
he smiled, finally feeling content.
~~ be sure to send request on what you’d like me to write about here!-> 🥀
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9tzuyu · 4 years ago
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children of tragedy [pt.2]
note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!
mistakes are mine as always.
warnings: talk of alcohol abuse
pt. 1 | pt.3
🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)
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when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process. 
you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.
(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)
you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.
rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town. 
in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.
similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.
with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket. 
natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising. 
there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda. 
what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.
natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort. 
“stay here, i’ll be right back.”
you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.
it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.
“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly. 
she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”
you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove. 
“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.
“s’okay.” 
you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.
she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you. 
she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you. 
you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered. 
“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her. 
“ah!”
she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.
“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?” 
you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something. 
she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand. 
(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?) 
you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving. 
“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do. 
natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.
the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.
(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)
“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex. 
“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know. 
“what happened?”
your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?” 
“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.
“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”
“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.
you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you. 
“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”
“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”
you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.” 
your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”
“she sounds like a good person.”
“she is.” 
natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.
(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)
“i’m sorry, tasha...” 
“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”
you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?” 
she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”
you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”
natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”
it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.
“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”
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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years ago
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Not just a soft princess - Azula x female reader imagine: Part Three
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Your relationship with Azula develops but a reality check makes you question if you are wise to trust the princess of the fire nation...
Part one here
Part two here
Part four here
Part five here
Part six here
Your POV
Since the day Azula stood up to Ozai for you things changed. You supposed word got out Azula was protecting you that’s why people started treating you better but it could also be due to Azula’s presence herself. After that night you saw a lot more of her and you weren’t complaining. She attended your lessons more frequently and even took over some portions of them herself. You got more freedom granted to you and when you were with Azula you didn’t even need a guard anymore. Thanks to the clause Azula placed in the contract there was no reason to force you and Zuko together and so you no longer dreaded all the formal occasions. Instead you were free to do as you wished at such events and that often included Azula. You found her presence comforting but also enjoyable. She was witty and clever, making you laugh with her deductions and well timed quips. You liked the proud blush that would fill her cheeks when she made you laugh and the only thing better was when she’d laugh at one of your own jokes. The way her mouth upturned into her signature smirk, how her shoulders would shake lightly and then she’d realise you were admiring her and be unable to meet your eyes for a few seconds. You’d never seen a sight so beautiful and were convinced there wasn’t anyone as beautiful as Azula, ever. You realised you’d developed more than a fondness for her when you found yourself thinking about her when she wasn’t around. The realisation made you nervous but also excited for one reason in particular. You were pretty sure the fire princess liked you too.
You were thinking about Azula as you dressed for the party that night. You had been at the fire nation for 2 months now and the constant feeling of dread and uncertainty was now more of a memory. You still missed home but it was no longer painful being here, you were adapting. That thought in mind you frowned when your maid asked you what dress you would like to wear tonight. There were dozens of beautiful options but they were all green given Ozai’s desire to make you up as a earth kingdom doll. You were sick of the colour green now and wanted to wear any other colour at this point. You’d noticed Azula constantly wore red and it always looked flattering. You couldn’t tell if that was because of Azula herself or if red was simply a flattering colour but the fire nation certainly did fashion better than the earth nation and if you were forced to live here you thought you should benefit from that. "Are there any red dresses?" you asked and the maid looked at you "red?". "Yes...i just thought as i’m part of the fire nation now maybe i could show it?". The maid smiled 'that sounds lovely princess y/n, i’ll go find one right away".
Azula’s POV
Azula stared out of the window as her father complained about some nobleman. Typically Azula would hang on her father’s every word and rush to assure him he was superior to everyone but lately her mind had been elsewhere...well it’d been on you more accurately. The truth was Azula had greatly enjoyed her time with you and found herself looking forward to the next chance she’d get to interact with you. Sure she’d had her friends Mai and Ty lee growing up but she’d never had someone she could relate to or feel solidarity with. With you Azula felt that. She’d always figured she was the exception to the typical princess role but you had made her see that was incorrect. You were smart and outspoken, you weren’t intimidated by the fire nation anymore and it showed. Your confidence seemed to grow each day and while it clearly bothered her father Azula relished in it. Despite the nation you were from, she couldn’t help but root for you and it had nothing to do with the fact your fate was tied to hers. It was because she genuinely liked and cared for you, something she’d never expected to happen. 
Azula was ironically pulled out of her thoughts about you because of you.
"What is she doing?" Ozai snapped and Azula was so distracted she didn’t turn around for a few seconds. When she did her breath was knocked out of her. Her eyes were drawn to you immediately and they widened as a smile formed on her face. You were wearing her favourite shade of red and you looked amazing. The dress was simple and so was your hair and makeup but that seemed to make the effect all the more impactful, Azula remembered when she saw you back in Ba Sing Sei and how then you’d been dressed simply but still managed to look amazing. You didn’t need to dress up a diamond, it was beautiful no matter what adorned it. Azula was biased but saw this as a good sign, you had donned their colours, surely this showed your willingness to cooperate? 
Her father didn’t agree. "I ordered all the maids to give her green clothing only! What use is she to us if you cannot identify her as earth kingdom royalty at a glance". Azula thought the emphasis on colour scheme a tad ridiculous but tried to appease her father "i think it is only for one night, this is good though. It seems she is showing loyalty to us". Ozai scoffed "as she should given all we’ve done for her, less of a prisoner and more of a honoured guest considering we’re housing and educating her for free". "She will get us the whole of the earth empire". "So you keep saying but so far all she has brought is Ba Sing Sei". Azula’s eye twitched. Ba Sing Sei was the biggest victory for the war in decades and was the brightest piece of the earth empire. For her father to disregard that was ludicrously idiotic but Azula knew he was just in a strop. He knew your use he was just annoyed he couldn’t exploit every drop of it at once and she was more determined than ever to prevent him for ever being able to do that to you.
Your POV
"You must've been dreadfully bored to make such a bold statement" a silky voice called and you didn’t even have to turn to know who it belonged to. Azula always found you sooner or later but she was definitely getting quicker. When you looked at Azula confused by her comment she gestured to your outfit "the dress, I can’t imagine what provoked you to don our colours". You laughed smiling "i thought a change would be nice, plus if this is to be my home now i thought showing some loyalty to it couldn’t hurt, but given your father’s reaction...". Azula almost scoffed but caught herself. "He was anxious but i made him see it correctly, that this a symbol of unity. How you were proclaiming your support and love for the fire nation simply by wearing a colour...a very subtle but effective political statement”. You smiled "yes but honestly? I’m just sick to death of the colour green". That thought never occurred to Azula and it caught her off guard making her laugh aloud. Something the princess had never done at a formal event. She caught herself quickly but blushed to see you were beaming at her reaction. "I’ve seen you wear it so successfully i thought i would try" you smiled and Azula looked at you surprised. "I...i am flattered". Azula’s slight blush deepened making you more confident and so you stepped back from her and opened your arms "so what’s the verdict? Did i pass in red?". Azula glanced over you very quickly her blush still very evident as she purposefully avoided looking you in the eye "you know you did, the colour suits you rather well, especially with your skin tone...." Azula trailed off before coughing "so yes you passed". You blushed smiling too "i would wear it more but i do not know if that is wise". Azula shook her head "i think green is safer". You nodded your head but felt deflated "i thought as much". "It’s lucky you look good in that colour too then i suppose" Azula commented suddenly and you looked at her in shock. "Maybe it is simply all colours?" she suggested "that wouldn't surprise me". "It wouldn't?" you asked and Azula shook her head "not at all princess". You looked away first, flustered and now blushing too and Azula grinned widely.
Mai and Zuko’s POV
Mai and Zuko watched you and discussed your show quietly. Zuko was worried what this would provoke from his father and Mai was worried Ozai would like seeing you in red. They were discussing which outcome was most likely when Azula approached you. They carried on talking when they noticed Azula laugh. An actual genuine unprovoked laugh. The couple went silent and Zuko spoke first after a delay "did my sister just....". "Burst out laughing? Yes". "When has she ever...". "Never" Mai finished "i’ve only seen her laugh when somebody falls or says something stupid". Zuko nodded "what on earth did y/n sat to her?”. Mai narrowed her eyes wondering just that too. "Could Azula...are they friends?" Zuko asked watching you two talk and Mai paused "Azula did keep her promise to protect her and she did add that marriage clause to her contract risking your father’s wrath". "But Azula never likes anyone" Zuko frowned "especially enough to put her neck on the line". "She must really like y/n then" Mai frowned as Azula suddenly blushed. Her and Zuko watched the two of you both blushing vividly, glancing at each other excitedly and they both inhaled. "She really really likes y/n" Zuko gaped and Mai nodded "and y/n her it appears .
Azula’s POV
Azula knew she had secured your place theoretically but she still worried you were physically vulnerable. She knew you were a skilled earth bender but you didn’t know how sneaky fire nation fighting was. The earth nation was upfront in their attacks but the fire nation was a fan of knives in the back and so Azula thought it wise to prepare you. So she invited you to join her for an hour a day to train.
Your POV
When Azula first invited you to spar with her your initial thought was suspicion. Why would the fire nation want to train you physically? However that was quickly overshadowed by excitement as Azula assured you that you’d be alone and that she just wanted to show you some basics. You’d seen Azula fight and were more than eager to receive tips from her. Not to mention it would make the seemingly never ending days go faster. You arrived at the sparring yard before the agreed time to find Azula already there. "You’re early" she commented dismissing your guards and you frowned "i apologise i thought the walk would take longer". "Do not apologise being early or on time are the only two acceptable options". You smiled getting the feeling Azula was early for everything and your smile lingered as the princess had you warm up. After your cardio Azula started showing you forms. Basic crucial ones first like how to avoid a knife strike or block a blow. She made it look so easy but was also a very good teacher. By the end of your third session you were able to successfully block Azula at her fastest pace and you were thrilled. Azula had been springing surprise attacks at you all session and even once she declared the session over she attacked you once again. You didn’t even register it but instead your body reacted and blocked her using perfect form. Azula looked at you impressed and a smile broke your face "i didn’t even think about it I just blocked you! I did it Azula!". Azula smirked at your endearing excitement "yes well done". "You are a very good teacher, i am a slow learner but you helped me master that in three days!". "It is only one of many forms" Azula replied "we still have many more to go before you are truly a master or i a good teacher". "Of course but this is a good first step is it not?" you asked. Azula would’ve said no. She was always hard on herself and didn’t believe in small victories but your smile was infectious and so she agreed "yes, you did well".
Azula’s POV
As your hand to hand combat improved Azula turned her attention to your bending. She was more than excited to have you display your bending again and not just because she found it enjoyable to watch. She also knew you’d been strictly forbidden from bending ever since you’d stepped foot in the fire nation. She figured it might make you more comfortable to be able to bend again and so she quickly worked it into your curriculum. She was impressed again as soon as she saw you bend. Earth was the element of strength and you were very skilled in that aspect. Azula would catch herself admiring your back and arms as your muscles tensed before she’d catch and scold herself for being unprofessional.
It soon became tradition that at the end of every session you and Azula would spar using your bending and it was the favourite part for both of you, You were both in your element (no pun intended) and Azula could get caught up in the feeling easily. Sometimes too much...
The two of you were sparring and it was going as it always did. You would stubbornly hold territory and refuse to move while Azula would flit around attempting to dislodge your stance. It took a while for either of you to wear the other down and so when Azula saw you starting to grow tired she got excited. She attacked your left side with a flurry of attacks coaxing you into exposing your other side to attacks. Azula knew you’d block the attack with your quick reflexes but when she finally saw you neglect your right side defences she acted. Azula reached out for your exposed arm directing a whip of fire straight for it. She smiled as you noticed and went to block it when you lost your footing. The floor was littered with debris from all your rocks that Azula had shattered and a piece had wormed it’s way directly between your feet. You stumbled over the rock your defence forgotten as you tried to regain your balance and Azula’s fire sped at you. Azula tried to yell but it was no use as her fire hit you knocking you over, a trail of smoke following. 
Your POV
“Y/n” you heard Azula yell as the blast hit you. You had been knocked flat on the floor but managed to sit up. You arm had took the brunt of the attack and you clutched your arm tightly into your side as it pulsed in pain. Azula appeared by your side and stared at your arm horrified. The moment you saw her worried look you tried to play it off and smile. "I’m fine" you assured her but Azula shook her head "no you’re not, come here". You glanced down at your arm but held it out to her.
Azula inspected the burn and frowned. It wasn’t serious, the skin would be healed in a few weeks and it shouldn’t cause you too much pain in the meantime but it would scar. “It’s not too bad but it needs dressing...come on”. Azula soaked your arm and apologised as you winced. She carefully dried it and applied a cooling balm onto it. You flinched and she frowned “does it hurt?”. “Yes but that feels nice, it feels cold”. Azula nodded. She waited for the gel to soak in before bandaging your arm carefully. “We’re lucky it was just your arm...if you’d fallen and my fire hit you somewhere else...” Azula paused “I should’ve been more careful”. “It wasn’t your fault, it was just an accident” you tried but Azula shook her head “fire benders aren’t allowed accidents, accidents get people killed”. You watched Azula’s concentrated tense face and wished you could ease the guilt she seemed to feel. Azula finished bandaging your arm and tucked the bandages away expertly, you watched amazed as her fingers worked softly and swiftly. For the first time you noticed there were many small scars from burns and cuts along her fingers and you watched her face closely. The princess was immaculate but on closer inspection, you could see the small scars and flaws of any person. It didn’t surprise you Azula kept hers hidden, she seemed like the type to tightly guard her weaknesses and you frowned wondering if she’d been told to do that as a child. From how faded some of the scar were you were guessing she had and it made you angry. Azula was a powerful force of nature but she was still a human with flaws. Not despite those flaws but because of them you viewed her as the most beautiful and intelligent woman you’d ever known and you wanted her to know that.
"Finished" Azula declared and then looked up to see you staring at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. In response you blinked and leant across the table to kiss her. Azula jumped pulling away as soon as you touched her and you jumped back too, upset and horrified you’d read her signals wrong. "You shouldn’t do that" Azula said and you blinked "i’m sorry i just thought...we’ve been flirting and I thought you might like me...". "No i meant here" Azula said cutting you off "we shouldn’t do that here but other places...". You paused and slowly smiled at Azula’s tone "other places....so you do like me?". Azula shushed you "not here too many ears come on" and held a hand out to you "but yes" she whispered as you took her hand. You smiled at her and Azula’s cheeks turned a shade of pink as she shot her eyes away from you. Azula led you through the palace confidently and to the royal gardens. You frowned figuring this was an open space with many prying eyes and ears but Azula just smiled more "as a child i learnt all the best places to hide are in here". "You had need of many hiding places?" you asked as Azula led you into the maze. She nodded "this was my mothers favourite place and so the last place she'd think to look for me when she wanted to yell at me, i hid right under her nose and avoided detection". Azula led you deep into the maze before she stopped suddenly "here".  A large hedge stood before you and you frowned “Azula it’s...” but Azula just smiled “watch”. She pressed her hands under the left side and pushed the bush to the side. It moved aside easily and Azula stepped through. You followed and found yourself behind large grass sculptures. They perfectly obscured you and gave you a small secluded area. You were still admiring how the hedge just bounced back hiding your entrance perfectly when you realised Azula was close behind you staring at you. Suddenly she couldn’t wait any longer and she kissed you. You laughed at her eagerness but kissed her back. As you were taller Azula wrapped her arms around your neck to be able to reach you easier. You rested your hands on her waist and smirked as Azula almost made you lose your balance in her excitement. You were thoroughly enjoying the kiss when Azula broke it and shot away from you "come on we have to keep moving" she laughed and tugged you out of your hidden area. “Why?” you asked and Azula smiled “you only go undetected as long as you keep moving so that’s what we’ll do”. Azula tugged you into another perfectly hidden alcove and brought her lips to your again before pulling away again just as you were slipping into it. Azula smirked at you exasperated look and you got the feeling she was toying with you. So in the third hiding spot Azula brought you too as soon as she had hidden your entrance you trapped her against it. Being taller had it’s advantages and you gripped Azula’s waist while hovering over her “No more running princess”. Azula grinned and happily accepted her fate.
You liked these hiding places in the garden and apparently so did Azula. She leant against your arms the most content you’d ever seen her. You could see why she loved it here. You could hear other people in the gardens but it felt so wonderfully private. The weather was beautiful and you laid down looking at the sun. “This is one thing I have grown to love about the fire nation, the weather...it’s so nice and warm here” you smiled. “Well it is summer” Azula smirked leaning on her forearms to look down at you “but it is beautiful, wait until you see the festival for the summer solstice. The sky stays light all night and the streets are lit with lanterns everywhere, the whole city glows and all night you just bask in the beauty” Azula sighed “I can’t wait to show it you all”. “Yeah?” you asked and Azula nodded “it’s beautiful even in winter too! We don’t get snow but it gets colder meaning there’s fires on every street corner. They even make a hot chocolate with fire flakes that you have to try” Azula told you “we can take a trip into town and get one....and the restaurants serve festive dishes that are spiced to perfection we will see it all” Azula declared and you smiled. “That sounds amazing”. Azula smiled up at you before leaning further into you.
A while later with a large sigh Azula sat up moving off you “I have to go...my father requested to see me and Zuko, it must be important...if it wasn’t there’s no way I’d go” she told you and you smiled “I know, it’s fine i’ll find someway to manage without you”. Azula smirked “I know Mai and Ty lee were going shopping, you could always tag along with them...they’re not as good company as me of course but it may distract you until i’m done”. “Until you’re done?”. Azula nodded “how about I come join you when i’m finished?”. You nodded your head “sounds perfect” and kissed her softly. Azula smiled and lingered with you as long as she could before pulling back “come on”. She stood up swiftly before helping you up. You walked out of the gardens together and Azula stopped at one path “Ty lee and Mai will be that way, you should hurry so you catch them”. You nodded “have fun at your meeting” and with a purposeful brush against her hurried away. You noticed Azula stayed long enough to watch you walk away before she rushed off for the meeting and smirked, she was definitely going to be late for that.
You came around the corner abruptly and both Mai and Ty lee jumped. “Y/n” Ty lee said surprised “are you okay princess?”. You nodded “I was actually looking for you both, I was wondering if i could accompany you into town? Azula mentioned you were going and suggested you wouldn’t mind”. “Of course we don’t” Ty lee cried and Mai shot her a look. You glanced at Mai who paused before sighing “of course you can come princess”. You smiled “thanks” and went to walk out of the open door but Mai held out her arm “are you forgetting something? A royal can’t leave the palace without a quadrant of guards and a royal precession”. “But she’s not fire nation does she really have to?” Ty lee asked and Mai sighed “you know she does” and turned to call the nearest servant.
It was easy to forget everything the fire nation stood for while you were running around the gardens with Azula but it had a way of reminding you. Mai and Ty lee were not permitted in the royal procession with you and had to walk behind you. The fire nation guards cleared the way through the streets mercilessly and you could see why Mai hadn’t wanted you to come. The citizens were either excited to see you and got beaten back or had been pushed forwards accidentally and suffered the same fate. When you finally reached your destination you felt so malevolent and cruel as the towns people stared but dared not come close. You’d never left the palace in the earth kingdom but there were often parties when normal people could come and they never hesitated to approach or touch you, here you bet the guards would have their hands if they tried. “Y/n?” Ty lee asked as you stared at the guards *controlling* the crowd. “Are you okay?” Ty lee asked and you paused before nodding “i’m fine” and you followed her inside.
Everywhere you went caused a fuss and you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. Ty lee wanted to go clothes shopping with Mai but because none of the shops sold green clothes you couldn’t join in. Every time you left a store you had to get back into your stupid cart even if the store was simply down the street. Each store you went into ignored Ty lee and Mai and only focused on you being the royal. You hated all the special treatment you received. You didn’t deserve it and you didn’t want it but there was no escaping it. This was the fire nation.
“What’s wrong y/n?” Ty lee asked “ you’ve barely touched your food” she said noticing how you were just pushing it around. You frowned “I just feel like i ruined your day, everywhere I go I causes a scene, it must be so annoying”. Ty lee shook her head “you haven’t ruined anything we’re used to it”. “How?” you asked and Mai fixed you with a look “you’re not the first royal we’ve travelled with, Azula and Zuko have the same rules but they revel in it a lot more than you”. “They enjoy it?” you asked shocked. “Well not so much Zuko” Mai admitted “but Azula does, she says it reminds people of their position....beneath her”. Mai’s disgusted tone wasn’t lost on you but it did make you think. You didn’t doubt Mai was being truthful, you’d seen first hand how Azula could act but recently you’d started forgetting. You realised with a crashing taste of reality that Azula was probably only like she was with you, with everyone else...who knows how cruel she was. You stared down at your hands feeling guilty for your morning activities with her. What on earth had you been doing sneaking around with the princess that conquered your city. Azula had taken over your home and sent your uncle into exile. The only reason you were here was because she liked you, if you hadn’t have appealed to her would you be exiled too or worse? These thoughts worried you and you couldn’t help but feel like a hypocrite. You’d personally sworn to detest the fire nation but had fallen for the princess? You couldn’t allow that and so you decided to call whatever this was off with Azula. As soon as she joined you.
However Azula never made it to the cafe. When you returned to the palace in the evening there was still no word from her and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not. The evening pressed on when suddenly there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Azula smiling widely. “I know I missed this afternoon but I have a good reason!” she waved some servants into your room and you watched confused as they started packing your belongings. “Azula what on earth....”. “We don’t have time!” she said excitedly “we’re leaving tonight! Mai, Ty lee and Zuko have to come too but it will still be great y/n”. “What will be...where are we going?”. “Ember Islands” Azula smiled.
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stoney-siren · 4 years ago
Text
May I Have This Dance? PART 1 (Sal Fisher x Gender Nuetral!Reader)
I decided to stray a bit from my usual AOT content and give some attention to the other fandoms I’m in, like Sally Face! :)
Summary: Senior year at Nockfell High is coming to an end, which means prom night it coming up soon. Although usually Sal Fisher is not one for high school get-togethers, he’s been wanting to ask (Y/N) to the dance, though it’s not as easy as most people make it seem. He just doesn’t know how to ask them.
This is the first part, I plan on there being two parts to this fanfic, possibly three.
TW: Swearing, possible mentions of drug use, slight angst? 
“Bullshit!” Larry burst into laughter, throwing his head back as he held his stomach. His rather embarrassed friend tensed up at his reaction. “You wanna ask (Y/N) to prom?” He continued to giggle, as his fit of laughter died down.
“Can you try and be quiet? What if your mom hears.. She’s gonna never let it down!” Sal tugged at his pigtails out of nervousness, pacing around the room.
“Come on, who cares? You should ask them!” The taller boy encouraged as he shut the door to his bedroom, turning his attention back to his blue haired buddy.
If only it was that easy, Sal wanted to say, but he just knew Larry would shoot back with something irritating and snarky. So instead, Sal fell back onto one of Larrys beanbags and let out a loud and irritated sigh. His friend soon followed persuit, jumping onto the beanbag that sat beside Sals.
“I just.. Cant. Who would wanna spend prom night with somebody like me anyways?” His self deprication captured Larrys attention faster than the reaction of a mouse on a mouse trap.
“Oh don’t give me that shit Sally dude! Anybody would be lucky to have you, everyone knows it too! You’re caring and funny, quick witted and honestly just somebody everyone wants to have by their side!” Larry exlaimed, though his words fell upon deaf ears.
Sal was too busy just day dreaming about (Y/N), he admired everything about them, the way they laughed, the color of their beautiful eyes, and the pure look of joy that washes over their face whenever he lets them paint his nails or put stickers on his prosthetic.
“Sal? Sally Face! You listening?” Larry called out, finally getting Sals attention.
“Oh, shit, sorry.. No, I’m not.” Sal shook his head and grabbed ahold of his pigtails again, glancing down at the floor and sighing.
Larry hated seeing his friend like this, he was aware of how low Sals confidence could be sometimes, but he’d never dare to point it out in fear of upsetting him or making things worse. He wished he could show Sal what all their friends and himself thought of him, then maybe he’d see himself in a brighter light.
“I think you should head back upstairs and get some rest now, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, alright?” Larry gave Sal a light punch on the shoulder before standing up and walking to the door with him.
“Yeah, alright. See you tomorrow Larry Face.” With that, he shut the door behind himself and headed to the elevator, pausing at the second floor button, thinking of (Y/N) before hitting the fourth floor button.
Your POV
You laid in your bed peacefully, staring up at the ceiling as the light from your lava lamp illuminated the room. The light was your favorite color, lighting up the side of your face as your thoughts raced for the future. Usually on a Sunday night, you’d play your music so loud that Todd would come over from his apartment and tell you to keep it down, but so many things were on your mind that you just didn’t have the energy to start a little fight with Todd. 
“Maybe I’ll talk to Ash about it, she always has good advice.” You mumbled as you turned and killed your lava lamps energy. You have had a crush on Sal Fisher since Sophomore year, but you never got the chance to talk about it with him or anyone for that matter.
Letting out a final sigh, you shut your eyes and melted into a world of memories and dreams.
“(Y/N)! Get up dear! You’re gonna be late for school if you don’t!” Your mother called from outside your room, this was how you usually woke up before school. She would always pretend to be in a panic, and tell you that you’re late to try and get you out of bed sooner, though sometimes her act would be real. That’s why you always check the clock in your room to see if she was lying or not.
“It’s 7:30, mom.” You mumbled as you pushed the blankets off yourself, Todd probably wasn’t even here yet to walk with you to school. Since you two both lived on the second floor, you guys have walked to school together since the first day of Freshmen year, then Larry, Ash, and Sal came into the picture and you guys became a team.
“Still, get up!” She called, her voice sounded more further away this time. You knew she wasn’t gonna stop pestering you until you got up. So while pushing the covers off your body, you got to your feet and picked out and outfit for today.
After breakfast, you brushed your teeth just as you heard a knock at the door, and your mom open the door to greet Todd.
“Hi Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) ready?” His voice grew louder as you stepped closer to the door and stopped next to your mom.
“Hey Todd, I’m ready!” Giving him a smile, he returned it as he lead you down the hallway and to the elevator. He hit the button as he attempted to make conversation with you.
“So how have your grades been? Excited for the end of the year?” He turned his head to make eye contact with you.
“Yeah I guess, I’m still not completely sure what I want to do once I graduate, but I know I’ll have you and everybody else to go to for support.” You responded in a tired tone, still a bit dazed from just waking up only 10 minutes ago. Todd nodded at your response as the elevator chimed.
The two metal doors slid open to reveal Sal and Larry standing on the other side, they looked ready for school just as much as you and Todd.
“Oh hey!” Larry called, “You two look like shit!” He laughed, Todd grimaced in annoyance while you just rubbed one of your eyes, trying to wake up.
“Yeah well your eyebags got eyebags and I’m sure Sals looking more than tired under that prosthetic.” Todd shot back as he stepped into the elevator, you supposed everyone was up late studying, since Mrs. Packerton always has extremely hard ‘end of the year’ tests. The fact that she’s a cultist makes trying to focus more difficult.
You stepped into the elevator and stood between Todd and Sal, taking notice in how quiet Sal was. It wasn’t unusual for him to not say anything, but a small hello could always be heard from him whenever we saw each other.
“You okay Sally Face? You seem a bit quiet.” Larry seemed to get a kick out of comment since he snickered and nudged Sal with his elbow.
“Yeah, what’s up bud?” Larry questioned in an almost teasing tone, it confused you, but you also knew that Sal and Larry always had their own little inside jokes. Maybe something happened last night while they were studying together, probably something involving Larry’s terrible toilet humor, or maybe they just got high again and completely blew off studying.
“Nothing, just tired.” Thats when you noticed how red Sals ears were, though you didn’t think much of it since you just wanted to get to school and get these seven hours of hell over with.
School never failed to be the same as always, with Travis and his homophobic and just down right ignorant remarks, the lunch food always smelling strange (especially the bologna), and of course messing around in the hallways and during lunch time with some of your favorite people. This time at lunch though you asked to speak with Ashley in private, she and Todd were the best advice givers you knew, but you just didn’t have as much faith in Todd in keeping a secret as you did with Ash.
“Whats up, (Y/N)?” The two of you stood behind the school as you anxiously looked around for any people who could overhear you.
“I, um, I needed some advice. It’s about the prom coming up this week..” You mumbled as Ashley burst into squeals of excitement, smiling widely to you.
“Oh I’m so excited you came to me for help! So you want to ask somebody, right? Who is it? Is it Larry?” She giggled and nudged you, trying her best to get the name out.
“No! It’s Sal!” Not even sure where that little outburst came from, you lifted a hand over your mouth in shock, as Ashley’s face only stretched further into happiness as she grabbed your shoulders.
“Oh I just knew you had a crush on him! You always laugh at all his jokes, and compliment him whenever you get the chance! And if you ask me, I think he might like you too!” That suggestion made your face burn, the thought of Sal actually returning such feelings made your heart warm.
“C- Come on, don’t say that!.. But do you really think that?” Ash nodded in response as she took your hand.
“You have to ask him out! And I know just who can help us.”
75 notes · View notes