#and ever since she's burnt herself out on every tour

[terrainofheartfelt]

Adele

Do I know them already?: yes | no 

Favourite Song: One and Only (said it before and I'll say it again. its her Aretha Moment. and I love it)

Least Favourite Song: Someone Like You has been overplayed for me. unless it's that tiktok of that kid singing it like Patti LuPone

Favourite Album: 19 - I just love how raw it is in comparision to her following albums, which seem to get more and more polished with each turn. I know 21 is when she made it big, but there's just something about 19 that has me reaching for it more than the rest.

Least Favourite Album: 30. just didn't Hit like the rest.

Song that got me into them: like most girls in 2011, it was Rolling in the Deep :)

Seen Live?: no :( but again, if I had a time machine I would track her down playing a cafe in London in 2009

Rate: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 

[cutseychangies]

When I say it’s okay.

-

Momo G!P x (fem reader)

Momo (reader as Nayeons Little sister) sneak fucking you at a sleep over.

Warnings: G!P, breeding k!nk, Exhibitionism

1.4K words

Momo had always had the hots for you. It was really hard to hide your relationship with momo in front of the other members, especially your big sister Nayeon. Nayeon would be extremely protective over you, I mean you were technically her baby, she’d hurt anyone who’d want to hurt you. She never found it suspicious how close you were with momo, Nayeon was just as close with Momo, so she just assumed it just because you 2 were siblings, and that she had a soft spot for you. Was she wrong, Momo just really wanted to screw you and wanted you to herself.

Nayeon had invited you over for Twice’s sleep over. It’s a thing the girls do where after every tour they spend time with each other and spend the night at someone’s dorm. This year the sleep over was at Nayeon and Momo’s dorm. Since Nayeon new how much you liked seeing Momo and how you were clingy towards her, she decided to have you over, all the members were okay with it Since you’re Nayeons little sis, you might as well be Twice’s too.

As you arrived to Nayeon and Momo dorm, you could already hear the conversations, and the movements happening in the room along with the smell of fried foods. You knocked on the door hearing footsteps coming towards it, as you’re greeted by a lovely bubbly face, Sana.

“Y/N! Come in! Come in!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you in with excitement. You almost tripped due to the sudden pull. You enter as you take off your shoes in the front of the door.

You see your Older sister, and the other members doing all sorts of things, Jeongyeon, Jihyo , Momo and Nayeon playing what ever competitive game on the switch, playing on the TV. Tzuyu and Dahyun trying to bake some sort of pastry (it smelt burnt…) and Mina and Chaeyoung watching Tzuyu and Dahyun probably burning down the kitchen. As Nayeon noticed you enter she had pause the game, causing the other girls to groan after the sudden stop. But had quickly changed their mood after your unnies saw you.

“Y/n! Y/n! You’re here!” Nayeon greeted, kissing your cheek while rubbing your head, causing your hair to be messy as you try to push off your older sister. Momo quickly dropped her control after seeing you, and had walked over eagerly but to wanting to seem desperate at the same time. She’s been dying to see you, she hasn’t seen you since part 2 of the tour stared.

“Y/n..” her eye sparked, she gave you a hug, while getting a whiff of your hair she always liked the way you smelt.

“Hi momoring.” You say as you held her hand, caressing her knuckles. She gave a soft smile, as you blushed and looked down at your socks.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughs, eating, playing Mario party on Mina’s switch. You were starting to get scared of Jihyo since she kept losing so much to which is quite rare to see. The other members were starting to fear her as well..

As everyone slowly felt tired, they all agreed that it was best they that they would get ready to sleep, and go out for breakfast tomorrow.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon helped set up the blankets, everyone will be sleeping in the living room. As everyone else got ready for bed, and you were getting ready bushing your teeth in the bathroom, a knock on the bathroom door was herd.

“Y/n..? It’s me Momo. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, that’s okay!” You shout.

Momo walked in, closing the door behind her, running into you and giving you a proper hug, leading her mouth on the crook of your neck, kissing it. Giving it a few nibbles.

“M-momoring…” you let out a few small grunts, Momo pulling off of you to look down at you. “I missed you so much y/n… not being able to see you has drove me crazy… I need you more then anything right now..” She tried to kiss you but stopped her before she could.

“M-momoring.. we can’t right now.. my sister is right outside! I don’t wanna risk it. I can’t risk..not being able to see you..can we do this when we’re more in private…? Please..?” Momo frowned. She needed you badly. But also wanted to respect you and your wishes. Even if she was desperate. As much as she needed you, you were right.

“Fine.. but can you at least sleep with me..? I’d like to hold you.” You gave in a thought.

“O-okay.. I mean it won’t look too weird right?” Momo pecked your cheek. “Yeah.” you continued to bush your teeth and Momo left to get a spot for the 2 of you.

“Alright girls! I Hope you Found a spot to sleep on tonight. Rest well.” Jihyo shouted, she turned off the lights. As you were crawling your way over to Momo’s spot, Nayeon gave a look to you, you ignored hoping it wasn’t a bad thing you were sleeping with Momo. Momo made room for you, you layed next to her. As you turn to your back, Momo spooning you as she put on the covers on top of both of you. You pressed your butt against Momo. It was already enough you were torturing her like this. Your sent, your body right pressed up against hers. It was driving her crazy, she couldn’t help but grind against your butt.

You noticed the sudden movement. Momo grinding a bit deeper. Her cock poking you.

“Momoring, what are you doing!” You whispered.

“I’m sorry Y/n I really can’t fucking help myself anymore. I really need you, right now. Please…” she was begging.

You felt bad for having her in this state, she needed some relief. You nodded, allowing her to use her to use you.

She grasped on your pajama pants, pulling them down, leaving you in your panties. She pulled her pajama pants and boxers. She slides herself between your thighs.

“F-fuck..” Momo quietly groans into your neck, she starts rubbing herself back and forth between your legs, she sucks on your neck to keep herself quiet. You held yourself still as Momo was grinding her cock on your clothed cunt, you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

“Y-y/n I’m so close..take of your panties… please.. I need to be in you so so bad.” You obeyed her immediately, sliding them off, allowing her to enter you. Momo sliding one of her hands in her shirt, groping your bare small breast and pinching your nipple.

Momo inserts herself in you slowly, She has you a whimpering mess, taking in the feeling of your walls closing around her cock. “F-fuck..you’re so warm.. you’re gonna make me cum by this alone..fuck..”

“M-momoring.. start moving..hhgh..” you moaned, which only cause Momo to get crazier. She started fucking you slowly to avoid any skin slapping noises, as you kept whimpering, gripping her hand tightly as a desperation to keep quiet, Momo stoped. “Shhh.. be a good girl and keep quiet for me okay? Can you do that for m-mommy?”

“Y-yes..” you said quietly. “That’s it, that’s my girl.” The praise had you crazy , you started moving by yourself,Momo moving the same pace.

As Momo went faster, it became so much harder to be able to keep quiet. Momo kissed your shoulder and neck, as she came close. “Please let me get you pregnant, fuck.. have my kids y/n please.” You nod violently, allowing her to finish in you, pumping her load in you having you to moan in the pillow. And there Momo was, practically breeding her best friends little sister.

After calming down from your high, Momo kissed your face frantically, her cock buried deep in you, while giving you pecks on the cheek.

“Y/n you did so good for me.. I’m so proud, I hope you’re pregnant with our kids and we’ll be happy mommies together. I love you so much baby.” All you could do was nod, you were so tried from Momo fucking you so all you did was kiss her hand, as momo wrapped her arm around around you. Sleeping while being connected with Momo.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next morning you two cleaned up, and after you and momo got out of the bathroom, Nayeon stared at you 2, in her big sister stance. She was especially staring hard Momo. She knew what Momo did and it was gonna be a rough morning.

[crackship-connoisseur]

take care of you

Summary: Edalyn goes to investigate the home of her older sister Evelyn after word reaches her that vampire hunters may have attacked. She expects to find any sign of the family's whereabouts but is shocked to discover only one member seems to remain...

Word Count: 19,764

Characters: Edalyn Clawthorne, Evelyn Clawthorne, Caleb Wittebane, Hunter (The Owl House)

CWs: house burning, child abandonment and neglect, death

A/N: i'm not as fond of this fic as i was initially but i feel like if i edit it any more i will explode so this is what you get

~~~~

The rain came pouring down quite heavily, which was not ideal for a vampire out in the night. It didn't necessarily hurt them, but it was still a great hindrance. Messed with their powers. And there were very few trees around to take shelter underneath. 

The clouds were thick and thunderous, completely blocking out the moonlight. But this was no issue for the vampire's ability to see in the dark as if it were day. The figure, shrouded under her dark cloak bedazzled with a ruby button, sprinted between trees as she made her way to the 18th century style mansion. These types of houses weren't necessarily uncommon, but it certainly stuck out  having not been refurbished nor surrounded by similar houses. What made it more unusual, was the very clearly collapsed parts of the house, the structure having been weakened from burning as the wood was charred. It was a wonder how it still stood upright at all.

As Edalyn approached the door, finally sheltered under an archway, she pulled back her hood to get a better look at the place, her mass of bright ginger hair letting loose from underneath. She tried to peek into any windows she could from where she was standing, and glanced around behind her a few times, just to make sure no one, not even a vampire could be there. 

It had been quite a long time since she had visited this house. She remembered touring the place after her sister had purchased it with her human husband. They wanted to start a family together. Edalyn always wondered if it was going to be a large one, from the sheer size of the house, but she knew how much Evelyn liked her space. She had missed so much in person over the years that she only ever got to experience through letters, and regretted being so caught up in her own business now that she was here to investigate devastation. 

Edalyn hesitated on the door handle with these thoughts, quite terrified of what might lay inside, but she inhaled her fear and shoved open the door.

She wasn't really sure what she expected. Possibly the worst, but she was met with stagnant, musty air and the old smell of burning wood. She thought she could detect a whiff of old garlic which made her wince in disgust. Vampire hunters. Just as she suspected. She tried not to let her worst suspicions consume her just yet. There was a chance she'd find a clue of their life, if she just kept looking. 

The first place she looked was the basement, which led to the chapel that would conceal their tombs. If the vampire hunters hadn't been cruel, they would be there, and if they had been stupid, they would only be staked in the heart. Very easily revivable. But as she shoved the stone lid off of her sister's coffin, her heart sank. There was no one inside. She did the same for her husband, Caleb, but he was nowhere to be found either. 

Edalyn stood stunned for a moment, fighting tears that already convinced her of the worst possible outcome. She shook herself from it and tried to reassure herself that they could still be alive. They could have merely escaped the house, and left a hidden note of their location somewhere. Determined, she ran back up the stairs to the main house. 

The young vampire anxiously made her way around every room on the first floor, checking every cabinet, drawer, or dresser, and taking note of the sheer carnage that was left. Indeed the main parlor next to the fourier was partially burnt and collapsed, the heavy rain seeping in. Edalyn did her best to avoid the wet as she looked through the salvageable drawers. She unsurprisingly found nothing, but she figured it was best to do a thorough search, just in case. She knew any secrets would most likely be on the upper floors, in the unused bedrooms. 

She quickly made her way up the grand staircase and stood at the top, pausing for a moment, expecting something, but there was nothing nor anyone there. It was strange. It almost felt like there was a presence on this level of the house, but she could see nothing in the deep darkness of the hallway, not even with her night vision. 

Still, she figured she'd better be careful. She made her way slowly down the hallway, taking in the few paintings and portraits left on the walls. Some of them were scorched, likely from the torches of the hunters. She entered every room she came across, whether they be locked or not, using her supernatural abilities to slip through the cracks in each door. Some were completely ransacked by hunters, others remained untouched, but regardless, she made quick yet thorough work of examining every nook and cranny, desperately looking for any sign that her family could be alive somewhere. 

Her desperation strangely ceased every time she reentered that hallway, for she could feel that odd presence there, and it made her cautious, yet curious. Perhaps it was merely some woodland critters that were taking shelter from the rain that she was mistaken for someone bigger? The presence did feel rather small, but maybe it was trying to make itself small…

Edalyn tried not to let it bother her as she made her way up the smaller stairs at the end of the hallway to the third floor. If there was to be anything, it would absolutely be here. It had to be. She checked in the first room on the right, which appeared to be fashioned into a large nursery, the leftover toys covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, but found nothing. The first door on the left was another library, filled with equally dusty books, but still, she found nothing. The second door on the right, the clearly unused grand bedroom that would have been meant for the heads of the house, was exactly the type of place Edalyn suspected would definitely have what she was looking for. 

She quickly entered the room, initially not bothering to take in any of the surroundings, but was immediately hit with a strange wave of despair. It felt as if something horrible had happened in this room, a nauseating chill that she did not feel in any of the other rooms she searched. It stopped Edalyn in her tracks, and she felt as if she could have broken down right there. The reality of the situation could have easily overtaken her, but she triumphed once more in fighting off her tears. She was still holding onto hope of the survival of her beloved sister. 

Edalyn practically tore apart the room, knowing that her sister would have likely used the main bedrooms as a storage for her personal things, and more importantly, as storage for her secrets. A storage for any sort of clue that could lead her sister to her. A storage for something, anything that would prevent even the very idea of this horrid event from being true. Each empty hiding spot only contributed to that sinking feeling. Edalyn checked every inch of that room until there was…

...Nothing. Her hope was rapidly fading. She collapsed into the vanity chair that she had paused at and very lazily prodded at the dusty objects left on the table, until she came to the music box. 

The very music box that she herself had given Evelyn as a wedding present. She very gently wound it up until the lid opened by itself, and the spinning figure inside spun along with the music. 

Edalyn didn’t know what to think. She couldn't fathom how something like this could happen, how vampire hunters could have gotten here. She was certain that Evelyn and her husband were strong and resourceful enough to have fought them off. But the emptiness in the house only seemed to prove otherwise…

As the music ended and the box closed on its own, Edalyn's head fell into her arms onto the table. The heavy feeling in the room finally put enough pressure onto her to force out her sobbing. She sat like that for a good long while, indulging in her worst fears. If they really had been killed, she felt it was her fault. Had she just made more room in her life to spend time with her blood family… maybe she could have been there to help. She did not want it to be her fault. She did not want them to be dead. She was not ready to accept it. She never even got a chance to meet their newborn son…

Suddenly, in the midst of her weeping, despite the suffocating feeling all around her, she suddenly felt as if someone was watching her. Her head shot up from the vanity table and whipped around to the door, but she saw no one.

That feeling was undeniable now, there was definitely someone here, and it wasn't just a woodland animal. She was racking her brain of the possibilities as she slowly stood and carefully made her way to the door. Poking her head out, she looked down either side of the hallway, stepping further out and checking to make sure no one was behind her. She turned to face the unsearched rooms, scratching her head in confusion, when she heard a voice finally call out from behind her.

"Who are you?" The voice sounded quite young, yet strangely rough. 

Edalyn whipped around to meet the face of a young boy who couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, standing rigidly in the entryway of the room she had just come from. He was most definitely a vampire, with his pointed ears, sharp teeth, and piercing red eyes. There was certainly some relief in that. But Edalyn's heart dropped as she recognized the unmistakable features of Caleb's face. 

"You're Hunter, aren't you?" Edalyn said incredulously.  

"Who are you and what are you doing in this house?!" The boy demanded.

Edalyn blinked the tears forcefully out of her eyes and shook her head as if to fight off a hallucination, but when the boy still stood clear in her mind, she began to approach him gently with both arms extended in a friendly manner. If Hunter was alive, it was still possible that Evelyn and Caleb could be. Surely, they wouldn’t have abandoned something as precious as their son all alone here. She still clung to that hope. 

"I'm your mother's sister, Edalyn. You know, your mother Evelyn?" She tried to be gentle with him.

"Don't come any closer!" Hunter warned as he shrank away from Edalyn's gesture. 

She stopped, taken aback by his forcefulness. She supposed he got from her side of the family. Hawthornes could be quite stand-offish. She pulled back and stood plainly before responding to his other question. 

"I'm here because I received word that something may have happened to my sister." She answered. 

The boy looked at her for a moment, quite angrily. 

"Well you're far too late to do anything about it." He finally retorted.

"Word doesn't travel fast when you're out of the country, let alone if you're a vampire." Edalyn explained. 

There was a pause as they stood awkwardly, looking toward the floor, unsure of what to do or say. Edalyn finally met his gaze again, and started to approach once more.

"Please, won't you tell me what happened here? I am not your enemy, I'm not here to hurt you. I really am related to your mother, and I just want to know where she and her husband went." She pleaded.

Hunter’s expression shifted into a worried grimace as he still looked to the floor, before he stepped out of the doorway and reached his hand out, a pinky extended. Though surprised, Edalyn immediately recognized the gesture. A pinky promise. Something that she learned from her whole family. Of course Evelyn would have passed it on. She locked her own pinky with his and shook it firmly. 

"A pinky promise." She said, a glint of comfort in her otherwise melancholic voice. 

Hunter smiled awkwardly at her, but he became much more relaxed, having established a foolproof method of trust in his mind. He remembered his mother established such a gesture as only a thing amongst family, and if this stranger knew of it, she was surely family. 

"Now tell me," Edalyn began, finally rubbing her face dry. "Why did your parents leave you here?"

Hunter slowly looked down to the floor again, a grim expression coming across his face. He hesitated for a moment as he shrunk completely in on himself. 

"They're dead." He blurted out forcefully, as he turned to walk away.

Edalyn gasped, and stood in her place in shock before she realized the answers to the flood of questions entering her mind were walking down the hall. She could feel her grief welling up inside her, her denial shattered. She wanted to hound his boy with more questions, but she realized by the look of him, that he probably really didn't want to talk about it. Her demeanor became more solemn as she followed quietly behind him. 

"Was it the hunters?" She whispered, barely able to speak. 

The boy met her eyes over his shoulder, his own clearly wet, and he simply nodded. 

Edalyn could no longer hold back her own tears. Not only were her fears confirmed in that she had completely lost her sister and brother-in-law, but their child had been left alone with this trauma for who knows how long, living all by himself with no one to raise him. She had a million more questions, but the instinct to ask them was not more powerful than the instinct to comfort. 

"Oh Hunter, I'm so sorry." She choked out.

She gently grabbed his face as he now turned toward her before she pulled him in close and held onto him tightly. This was her nephew, and she was determined to make sure that he was taken care of, above all else. 

"H-how did you know my name?" Hunter asked, rather bewildered by the intense emotions. 

Edalyn pulled away from the embrace, keeping one hand on Hunter's shoulder and the other wiping at her cheek. 

"Your mother told me about you, in her letters." She answered, her voice quivering. 

"She wrote you letters?" Hunter inquired.

"Yes. But then they stopped coming… and I got worried…" Edalyn replied. 

She looked to the floor, seemingly trapped in a daze. She tried to gather her memories and thought process from before she came here. The daze only lasted a moment before she breathed a heavy sigh, and continued. 

"I figured it was fine for a while. They were probably quite busy raising you. But then I heard that nobody, not even their closest friends had heard from neither Evelyn nor Caleb, and that there had been a great commotion at the house." She paused in thought.

"No one would elaborate, so I came to investigate myself." Edalyn finished. 

The emotions were hitting her again. She pressed her hand over her eyes as if that would work as flood gates. Hunter could see her lips contorted into an intense frown. He mindlessly seemed to copy her expression as he reached his hand over to hers placed on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He could hear her take in another shivery sigh in an attempt to compose herself. 

"I have so many questions to ask you." Edalyn could barely get her words out. 

"We should probably sit down for it." Hunter smiled awkwardly yet again, trying to ease the tension. 

He took her hand in his and began leading her through the rest of the hallway and back down to the first floor. She followed him wordlessly all the way into a larger drawing room that hadn’t been affected by the fire at the back of the house. It almost seemed to function as more of a back porch as there were very large windows that looked out into a garden in the backyard, with an accompanying greenhouse. The pouring rain that came with the storm had ceased enough to see that said greenhouse and garden had become rather unkempt. 

"Do you want me asking questions? I don't know how fresh it is in your mind." Edalyn asked as she swiped off some of the dust on her chair and her spot at the table, before promptly sitting down. 

"It's alright. I'm fine with it I think." Hunter said, sitting cross-legged with his hands folded neatly on the dusty tablecloth. 

Edalyn was surprised at his manners, compared to hers where she sat slouched back in the chair, hands folded on her lap. She couldn't be bothered to perform such etiquette after all the blows to her emotions. She wondered if maybe Hunter was so rigid because he was nervous. She was little more than an acquaintance at this point. 

She twiddle her thumbs in her lap for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts to coherence. 

"Do you remember anything that happened?" She finally asked, looking up from her thumbs. 

"Not really. It was such a long time ago. I think I must have been five." Hunter responded, instinctively looking away from her gaze.

Five years old. This was a complete shock to Edalyn. This poor boy had to fend for himself at such a young age, barely older than infancy. And no one came to his rescue. She couldn't imagine what kind of life he could have been living. 

"How long have you been alone?" She anxiously continued her questions. 

"Close to eleven years I think. I've been losing track lately…" Hunter replied. 

"How have you been able to survive? I mean, no one taught you how to catch your own food. What have you been living off of?" Edalyn hounded as she mindlessly leaned forward in her chair. 

"I live off the rats and mice that come into the house." He admitted. "It's not a lot but it's been enough to get me this far." 

Edalyn pulled back in disbelief. She placed her hand on her forehead as if to brace herself for some explosive emotion. 

Hunter looked at her a little worried. He knew his situation wasn't ideal, but he had gotten so used to this lifestyle that now meeting someone who led a much more normal life than he did, he felt embarrassed. Edalyn seemed to notice his expression and sighed. She leaned forward in her chair, far enough that she could reach Hunter's hands with her own, and took them in hers.

"Hunter, I know you're probably used to living like this, but the fact of the matter is, it is not a normal way to live for a vampire." She began. 

Hunter flushed at the gesture. It had been such a long time since he got any sort of familial affection. Getting it now was overwhelming. 

"I know we've only just met, and you might not want me in your house, but I feel as though it is my obligation as your next of kin to be the one to look after you from now on." Edalyn continued. 

She didn't know how hard she had to try to convince him to let her stay, if she even had to at all, but she still figured she'd give it some honest effort anyway. Even if he declined her care, she would just take care of him from afar, as best as she could. There was no way she was leaving this boy completely alone ever again. 

Hunter didn’t respond at first. All of his emotions were slowly reaching a point. He had gotten so used to being alone, fending for himself. He had come to accept it as his way of life. But now with the prospect of a family member returning, offering the safety and care he had been needing for a long time, he slowly started realizing just how much he had been struggling. And he had tried so desperately to cling to the memory of his parents for any semblance of comfort, but they had been fading more and more from his mind. 

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how truly grateful he was that someone had come into his life with the promise that she would care for him just as his parents did, and how much luckier he was that it happened to be a blood relative. 

He tried to stifle his emotions in the time that these thoughts raced through his head, but it was hardly any use. 

"Please stay." He finally choked out as he could no longer hold back. 

His head suddenly fell forward onto the table and he began hysterically sobbing, his hands still locked with Edalyn's, tensing in hers. She instantly got up out of the chair that was seated across from him at the table and plopped herself  in one right next to him. She then gently pried him off of the table and into her arms, letting her cloak drape over both of them. Hunter only clung to her as tightly as he could, burying his face in her chest as he cried. 

"It's alright, it's alright." Edalyn spoke softly above Hunter's broken sobs. 

She gently stroked his unkempt blond hair as she tightened the embrace, and let her own tears flow. 

"I'm here to take care of you." 

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [eight] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 3.1k

author’s note — the last chapter before the hawaii arc, ladies and gentlemen.  

masterlist

| ONE MONTH LATER |

‘Trouble in Paradise? BTS’s Jungkook seen earlier this week leaving divorce attorney’s office with his husband, Jeon {Name}.’

Just from reading the article’s title, you could already feel your blood begin to boil and your heart clench at the same time.

Many things have changed in your life over the past month. Jungkook and you have started to finalized your divorce, met with each of your lawyers, decided on the custody arrangement and child support—oh god, Minho.

When you both broke the news to him about the divorce he was devastated. Crying uncontrollably, tears sliding down his eyes and snot spewing out of his nose, begging for his parents to stay together. The sight truly broke you and Jungkook, but you two couldn’t do this anymore. Acting like the both of you were still together, pretending that you two were still happy wasn’t healthy for either of you.

The only thing that was left to do now was to sign the divorce papers, which both you and Jungkook have agreed on to do after the trip.

You just wanted all these troubles to be over with already—

“Appa,” you jumped at the sound of Minho’s voice, turning around to see your son standing in your bedroom’s doorway wearing his onesies. “Can we watch a movie tonight?”

“I’m sorry, pumpkin.” You approached him. “We have to get up really early tomorrow, so we can’t stay up late. Remember, we’re going on a big plane.”

Minho’s frown raised only slightly, “Is appa coming home tonight?”

The question made your heart stop completely. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.” Just from hearing those words come out of you, tears already began to form in his eyes and his lips started to tremble. The sight broke your heart.

“B-But,” his voice was quivering, “We always camp out in the living room before trips.” Some of the tears that glistened in his eyes escaped and slid down his chubby cheeks. And before you had the chance to wipe them, he was already pulling away, making your heart clench.

Slowly, you retracted your hands away from him and placed them by your sides. “How about we have some ice cream instead, yeah?” You smiled, but that immediately dropped when Minho shook his head and left your room without saying another word to you. And once you were alone, you couldn’t stop your own tears that has been slowly building up in your eyes finally escape.

That’s another thing that has changed. Jungkook moved out, and Minho took it hard. He thought—still thinks it’s only temporary, and it breaks your heart every time you have to remind him that it isn’t and see his teary eyes stare back at you.

Minho hasn’t been same since Jungkook left. He wasn’t happy anymore.

So you called the only person that can make him happy.

.

.

.

“Jungkook...?”

When hearing your soft, gentle voice, every ounce of exhaustion Jungkook was currently feeling instantly vanished.

“{Name},” Jungkook instantly sat up from the bed and leaned himself against the headboard. “Why are you calling me?—not that you can’t,” he quickly added, voice just below a whisper. “I’m just wondering.”

“Minho misses you,” was your only answer, simple and straightforward. “Could you come over? He’s sad that you aren’t here to do our traditions before the trip.”

Jungkook winced at the mention. He knew exactly what ‘traditions’ you were talking about. Every night before a trip, the three of you would have a movie night and sleep in the living room. Minho would choose the movie, you’d make the snacks and Jungkook would use any extra blankets to make a large tent.

Till this day, the image of both of your smiles was still burnt inside his mind, making his heart stammer heavily inside his chest every time he thought of those moments.

Just as Jungkook was about to answer you, another voice suddenly spoke up.

“Babe, who are you talking to?”

Jungkook froze, and judging from the small gasp he heard coming from your end of the line, he knew you heard the voice too.

Before Jungkook had the chance to say anything to you, the sound of your unsteady voice filled his ears. “You know what, it’s okay. Minho’ll understand that you’re b-busy. See you tomorrow.”

“N-No, wait—” Jungkook tried to speak, but it was already too late. You hung up on him.

Jungkook stared at his phone, fingers clenching around the small device as his eyes burned into the black screen. He didn’t realize how long he was staring at his phone until he heard Yeonha’s voice speak up behind him. “Baby, who was that?”

“It was {Name}.” Jungkook simply answered, climbing out the bed and slipping his clothes back on. “Minho needs me.”

“Are you sure it’s Minho that needs you?” Yeonha questioned, shifting herself onto her side, the bed’s thin sheets being the only thing covering her bare body.

Jungkook paused briefly, pulling his shirt back over his body before turning around to face her. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Yeonha rolled her eyes. “{Name} is obviously using your guys’ son as an excuse just for you to visit him—”

“Stop,” Jungkook interjected, shaking his head. “{Name} isn’t like that. Minho’s upset that I’m there to have a movie night with him, that’s all.”

“—and {Name},” she quickly added.

“I’m not doing this with you right now.” Jungkook sighed, walking over to the door.

“Then when can we, Jungkook?” She shouted. “You haven’t been the same since you started finalizing your divorce with {Name}.”

“What are you talking about?”

Yeonha sat up from her bed, “Ever since you and {Name} started making your divorce official you’ve become distant. You hardly talk to me unless I’m one that pursues you, you’re always busy at work, and when we do actually spend time together it’s like you’re not even there, like I’m talking to some stranger instead.”

Jungkook felt guilt suddenly flow through him. This is exactly how he treated you before everything, and here he was now, doing the same thing to Yeonha—the girl he left you for.

“Listen, I’m sorry.” Jungkook moved away from the door and sat down beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. “I’ve just been stressed a lot lately with the divorce going on right now, and also having to deal with my lawyer—”

“But isn’t this what you wanted?” Yeonha interjected, raising a brow and tilting her head.

Yes, was the first thing that came to his mind. But now, after experiencing the consequences that comes with a divorce, he wasn’t sure. When meeting with you to discuss agreements with your guys’ lawyers, he’s never seen you so—emotionless before. It was like you didn’t feel any ounce of care anymore. And it pained him to know that he was the reason for you being that way.

But that wasn’t even the worse part, breaking the news about the divorce to Minho was. He has dealt with his son’s tantrums before, but when learning that his two parents were separating, Jungkook has never seen him cry so much before. He can remember that day distinctly. The both of you were sitting on the living room’s couch with Minho on his lap, and when you two told him about the divorce he completely broke down. Tears were pouring from his son’s eyes, hands clawing at his chest, begging for his parents to stay together.

The sight of your guys’ crying son pained the both of you. But what broke you two was when you both tried to comfort him and he pulled from your grasps and ran away to his room, the sound of his heartbroken sobs echoing throughout the house.

For the rest night, you and Jungkook remained on the couch, neither of you speaking a word as tears glistened in both of your eyes.

Now that Minho knew, it was officially over.

Jungkook didn’t realize how long he was in his thoughts until he heard Yeonha’s voice again. “Do you love me?”

His eyes widened at her question, the sound of her trembling tone making his heart clench inside his chest.

“I care about you,” was his answer, giving her hand that he still held a gentle squeeze.

“But that’s not what I asked you, Jungkook.” Yeonha frowned, eyes brimming with tears as her hand’s grip began to loosen.

“Yeonha,” Jungkook tightened his grip on her hand before she had the change to pull away. “We’ve been dating for only two months. Don’t you think that it’s too early to be saying that?”

“When did you and {Name} say to each other?”

After the third date.

Jungkook didn’t have an excuse for that either.

His silence was enough to make a single tear fall from her eyes. “Will you ever love me as much as you loved him?”

“That’s not fair, Yeonha.” Jungkook stood up, clenching his jaw and rolling his eyes. The guilt he was feeling was now gone and replaced with frustration. “Me and {Name} were together for ten years, married for eight of that. It’ll take time for us to reach that level of connection—”

“Stop avoiding my questions!”

“What do you want me to say, Yeonha?” Jungkook snapped, eyes wide with irritation. “I’m sorry that my feelings for you aren’t as strong as they were for {Name} at the start but over time it’ll get there. I’ve just been with him longer so—”

“But they were strong enough for you to end your marriage.” Yeonha interrupted again, pointing out with an evident smirk on her lips.

Jungkook’s eyes hardened and his hands that were resting by his sides clenched into fists.

“Because if I remember correctly,” she thought aloud while tapping her fingers against her chin. “When we were on tour, you told me how you and {Name}’s marriage was failing and that the feelings you both had for each other weren’t the same anymore.”

Yeonha then stood up and approached him. “And I also remember how I was the one with you that night, comforting you while you were hurting.”

Jungkook stopped breathing, heart sinking at the reminder. “Stop—” he tried to mumble out but Yeonha was already continuing with a cocky smirk on her lips.

“How you kissed me that night,” she grinned widely. “Your lips were so soft, and how you held in me in your arms—”

“Stop!” Jungkook shouted, eyes flaring.

He remembers that night very clearly. You and him talked for the first time since he left for tour—which was exactly one month later. Which was suppose to be a calm, sweet phone call ended up being a screaming match between the both of you. The short conversion ended with you two hanging up on each other without saying a simple goodbye. Jungkook was hurt. The first time you two talk to each other and it ends in arguments. He wanted to forget the fight you both had so he decided to go to a bar and drink some alcohol, hoping that the burning sensation from various beverages going down his throat would help.

Jungkook wanted to go alone—but Yeonha joined him anyway, ignoring his protests. The rest of that night was a complete blur to him, but nonetheless, he still remembers kissing her very clearly. He just doesn’t remember what led up to that moment.

“I was drunk—we both were,” he spat.

“But you still kissed me regardless,” Yeonha smirked, leaning up on her tip toes and pressing her lips gently against Jungkook’s cheek.

Guilt flooded Jungkook’s veins. He just wanted to be alone that night, to bury himself in alcohol and forget about the stupid fight, forget about the harsh words the both of you spat at one another, or the tears that glistened in his eyes and mostly in your eyes too. He never intended to cheat on you.

Nobody knew about that night except for himself and Yeonha—not even his hyungs. He was just lucky that nobody took pictures of him with her.

Before he said anything, Jungkook suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. And when checking on it, he only saw that it was a simple reminder about his flight. But what caught his attention wasn’t the reminder, but his wallpaper instead.

It was a picture of you and Minho on his first day of kindergarten, him sitting on your lap with bright smiles on both of your faces. Jungkook was upset that he couldn’t attend his son’s orientation that day because of rehearsals, but you were quick to reassure him that it was alright and made sure to send him lots of photos of Minho. Some of the pictures were of him choosing his seat and cubbyhole for the year, and others were of him talking to some of the other students. Minho was such a social butterfly back then—back before everything went to shit.

And till this day, Jungkook still kept it as his phone’s background.

“Just admit it, baby.” Yeonha spoke up, tearing Jungkook from his thoughts. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in that loveless marriage.” Her fingers ran slowly along Jungkook’s arm, making his jaw clench. If he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now.

It wasn’t a ‘loveless’ marriage. You two just fought a lot, grew unhappy with one another. The love he had for you was still there, it just wasn’t the same or as strong anymore.

“I’ve got to go,” was the only thing Jungkook said before leaving Yeonha alone in her room, utterly speechless.

He didn’t want to say anything he’ll regret.

“What are you doing here?”

You stood there, frozen in place with your lips parted and eyes wide, staring at Jungkook who stood in front of you with his suitcase placed at his feet.

“You said Minho missed me,” was his only reply.

“But—” you were interrupted at the sound of another voice calling your name, causing you to turn around to see Cho walking down the stairs.

“{Name},” she shouts, “Have you seen Minho’s favorite plushie? He wants to pack it for Hawaii, but he can’t find it anywhere. He’s practically tearing apart his room right now trying to—” she suddenly pauses, eyes glaring and jaw tightening at the sight of Jungkook. “What are you doing here?”

“To see my son.” Jungkook answered bluntly, his soft eyes that were recently focused on you hardening when shifting towards Cho.

The two of them never got along, even before you and Jungkook’s marital problems started. She would always say how he wasn’t good enough for you, and that you shouldn’t waste your time on someone like him who won’t have enough time for you. It infuriated Jungkook.

You sighed, “I’ll go help him find it. Try not to break anything you two.”

Jungkook watched as you then walked away before entering the house with his suitcase at his side. As you left to go upstairs and help Minho, he was now left alone with Cho.

Luckily it wasn’t for long, because about ten minutes later Minho himself was running down the stairs and sprinting towards him with the widest grin Jungkook has ever seen on his face in a very long time, shouting “Appa!”

Jungkook caught him and lifted him in the air, peppering his chubby face with smalls kisses. The sound of Minho’s laughter made his heart flutter inside his chest. While entertaining his son with playful kisses and tickles, Jungkook was also unaware of the pair of eyes watching the heartwarming scene.

As you stood on the last step of the staircase, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“I’m heading out,” Cho stood beside you, and before you had the time to interject she added, “You two have things to work out before tomorrow and I don’t want to intrude.”

You only nod. “Call me if you need anything.”

At the sound of a door closing, Jungkook tore his gaze away from Minho to see you standing beside the front entrance, alone, and when your eyes met it was like time stopped completely.

This is the first time you two are in the same room together since the fight. After that and him moving out, the only time the both of you would contact one another is when exchanging Minho between each other. And even then, neither of you would say anything to each other, only send a quick message of your location and that’s it.

As your eyes stared into his, you can’t help but feel inside your chest the heavy beating of your heart. It hurt how strong your heart was beating you from internally. It almost felt like everything was back to normal, when you’d get home from work late and find Jungkook and Minho playing in the living room. You would join them, of course, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

You can’t. You three aren’t a family anymore. You and Jungkook are just two single parents who just happen to have the same kid. If the three of you acted like one, the only thing you’d do would create hope for Minho, false hope that his parents would get back together again, which wasn’t happening.

“I’ll go make snacks,” you said before leaving, still feeling Jungkook’s eyes burning into your back.

.

.

.

Jungkook was different, was your first thought while watching the movie.

About an hour into the movie, you couldn’t help but notice the only time Jungkook would smile was whenever Minho would glance up at him. Other than that, he’d have this straight, emotionless look on his face that you couldn’t describe.

“Hey,” you spoke in a low whisper, careful to not bother Minho who was deepily focused on the movie. “Are you alright? You seem upset.”

Jungkook only shrugged, “It’s nothing. Yeonha and I just had some stupid fight, that’s all.”

“What was it about?”

You, was on the tip of Jungkook’s tongue, but chose to shake his head dismissingly instead. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You should’ve stayed with her,” you suggested. “This is your last night here before the trip. Don’t you think you should spend time with your girlfriend?”

“She knows that Minho is more important.” Jungkook’s words made Minho glance up at him and flash him a toothy grin, making your ex-husband smile back down at him.

“How about you?” Jungkook then asked you. “How are things going with you and Jaehyun? Is he alright with this trip?”

His question caused your breath to hitch. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh—” Jungkook’s eyes widen with curiosity.

“Yeah,” you smile awkwardly. “I told him that I’m not ready to date just yet and that right now I only want to focus on me and Minho. We both decided to just stay friends.”

Friends. That word mocked you. Even though Jaehyun was nothing but understanding when you told him about your decision, things still changed between the both of you. The two of you didn’t act like friends anymore, but instead treated each other like colleagues.

But perhaps this was for the best. You would much rather have a professional relationship with your boss rather than a romantic one with no real feelings.

Jungkook opened his mouth, noticing your guilt-filled expression, but no words were able to come out.

“I’m nervous for tomorrow,” you spoke up after a brief silence.

Jungkook sighed, “I am too.” He then held his hand out, making you stare at his open palm. “But we’ll get through this together.”

Hesitantly, you slowly laced your fingers with his and glanced at him with a small, soft smile, heart quickening at the feeling his hand squeezing around yours.

“Together.”

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx, @yoongis-soulmate, @jikookvfans, @heartfeltscribblings, @chrissfuk, @blazedprince, @btsfaris, @sonderkook, @angel-moni, @http-je0n, @magic-fox-555, @moonfairyjoon, @taozibun1, @ephemeralkookie, @thesquiglybumblebee, @httpjazel, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @dreamer95, @singabon-roll, @its-your-dreamworld, @fancykoos, @galaxyeyedjungkook, @nlnkm, @you-need-namjesus, @teuteusstuff, @moon-asia, @julia-pacheco-blog, @0minabean0, @pjmislovely, @polly-wifu, @foodismyboyfriendd​

[plotbnuy]

KarpReviews - The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Back when The Hunger Games became a huge phenomenon, I have to admit that it didn’t quite grab me like it did for many. The original film came out on March 23rd, 2012, followed by Catching Fire late next year. These films started a trend of dystopian novel movie adaptations, with Divergent coming out on March 21st 2014, and Maze Runner coming out on September 19th that same year. By the time Mockingjay: Part One released on November 21′s, right after Maze Runner, I’d become a little burnt out on these tales of children fighting for survival against an oppressive system meant to keep society under control. Despite reading the first two books in the series, I didn’t return for Mockingjay. 

That is, until a few months ago.  I decided to give the books another try, and to my delight I grew to really love and appreciate them. Katniss is a wonderful protagonist, surrounded by a surprisingly colorful and interesting cast of characters (even though it still features the classic love triangle trope.) While the first two books were rereads, going in blind into Mockingjay was a treat, and I felt the series had a wonderfully satisfying ending. 

Imagine my delight, however, when I realized that there was a prequel to the series! The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes features a much different entry in the story, taking place long before the events of the main series to highlight the tenth Hunger Games. In order to spice up what is comparatively an archaic and unpolished annual event, The Capitol has enlisted a large selection of students from an elite secondary school - simply referred to as “The Academy” - to mentor the children forced to fight in the arena! Who else should be chosen to be a mentor but a young Coriolanus Snow, hoping to become recognized and attain a university scholarship on his path to becoming President of Panem.

Yes, this entry puts us in the perspective of the infamous Coriolanus Snow, allowing us to see a little bit into what led to the events of the original Hunger Games novel. Not only does it flesh out Snow himself, but also how the titular event became the lavish, intricate, and audacious spectacle depicted during Katniss’s run in the arena. This allows this entry to differentiate itself immensely from the others, allowing it to feel fresh and new while it gives us a better look into the universe we’ve become a part of after three other novels and four films. With that being said, I want to dive deeper into what makes this particular entry so engaging. 

While other entries in the series have a bit of a fluid structure, our story this time is split into very neat thirds: The events leading up to the games, the games themselves, and the aftermath. This time, we get to see the perspective of the games from the capitol’s eyes, as opposed to the districts. However, while the event is massively celebrated, with banquets, parties, tours, and intricate broadcasts during the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, the 10th is much different. It’s much bleaker and more depressing, as tributes are treated like livestock, with no access to good food or proper shelter. Many citizens, District or Capitol, would rather ignore the barbaric event, only bothering to attend The Reaping before returning to daily life. There’s no reward for victory, beyond the singular tribute avoiding death, only to return to the poverty-stricken districts. Tributes die before even entering the arena, leading the games themselves to be swift and merciless. 

Ultimately, this raw and bleak depiction of the games, combined with Capitol citizens not yet disillusioned by the grandeur of future games, still recovering from the war, is a perfect choice for this Capitol-centric prequel. It keeps the citizens of The Capitol that we spend most of our time with from being completely unsympathetic, and it allows for a much more engaging story. Even before the games themselves, many things happen that impact the story, allowing for a lot of tension as things lead up to the main event. 

Speaking of the Hunger Games, this is the first time we get to enjoy them from outside of the arena itself. As the story follows our mentors, we get to watch from their perspective as spectators as the games commence in the arena. This event also happens to be the first where sponsors are allowed to affect the games, sending gifts for the tributes to possibly keep them alive. Since the mentors themselves have agency over the games, they never feel boring as you hope for the survival of our main character’s tribute. The aftermath of the games left me absolutely shocked, leading into a finale that felt unlike anything the series has had to offer before.

Even though Coriolanus Snow is designated as our main character, this story is truly given life by the people who surround him. Closest to him is Sejanus Plinth, a childhood friend who joins Snow in the tribute mentorship program as his classmate. At first, Sejanus is telegraphed as an old rival and a clear foil to Snow, and you suspect he’ll be something of an antagonist given the disdain Coriolanus seems to have for him. However, I was pleasantly surprised as the story paints a much more intricate picture of our main character’s best friend. Their relationship is one of the many highlights of this story, as even when Snow tries to distance himself, or otherwise shows dislike for Sejanus, their paths become forcibly intertwined, and it becomes unclear whether they will become bitter rivals or loyal comrades.

The real star of the show for me is Coriolanus’s tribute, a District 12 girl named Lucy Grey Baird. A member of the Covey, she’s a performer and singer who prides herself in her skill for entertainment. With both Panem and the reader as her audience, her personality and charm is utterly captivating, with an even sharper wit than Katniss. Despite the circumstances, she becomes fond of Coriolanus early on, a fact attributed to Snow being one of the few mentors that goes out of his way to forge a bond with his tribute. She leaves an impression from her very first scene, and every moment with her going forward is captivating and wonderful. Truly, if I had to give a single reason to read this book, it would be for Lucy Grey specifically. Even though her situation seems completely impossible, you can’t help but hope for her victory in the games. 

Of course, there’s always room for a good antagonist, even in a story starring Coriolanus Snow. Casca Highbottom, dean of The Academy, is one of the main obstacles making Snow’s future so uneasy. The story says little about him at first, only that he isn’t Coriolanus’s biggest fan, and that he created the Hunger Games themselves. He’s hard to read as a threat, given his addiction to painkillers and somewhat contradictory dialogue. Truthfully, he’s not much of a villain. 

Enter Doctor Volumnia Gaul.  Serving as the head Gamemaker, as well as an instructor at the Capitol University, she spends a large amount of time with both Coriolanus and the other mentors. Specializing in the “muttations” that her labs create for the Capitol, she serves as something of a mentor herself for Snow, challenging his morals and shaping his ideals. She starts off as seeming like an ally, only for her to show just how dangerous she is. She has a blatant disregard for life itself, only just barely being grounded enough to not be entirely absurd. Her presence gives the story a lot of much-needed tension, and I found her to be absolutely riveting. 

What impresses me the most about Songbirds and Snakes is how it expertly avoids delivering what could have easily come off as a tragic backstory intended to garner sympathy for Panem’s ruthless dictator. Instead, it cleverly highlights Coriolanus’s personality, nature, aspirations, and faults, adding to his character without ever trying to suggest that he’s misunderstood or redeemable. His downfall, while accelerated by his environment, can be attributed entirely to the choices he makes himself. Even when surrounded by good people who genuinely love and care for him, miles away from the capitol, he makes the choice to become who he is: a vile, treacherous, untrusting snake. Yet, despite knowing his fate, there was a part of me that hoped he would make the right choice anyway, making the end of his arc even more effective. 

Suzanne Collins is a truly talented writer. Not only is the original trilogy a fantastic read, but she managed to craft a prequel that both builds the lore of the series and has a major impact on the story as a whole. The connecting tissue between this prequel and the rest of the series is solid, not only fleshing out the world explicitly, but leaving breadcrumbs for attentive fans to enjoy. Upon reading the final chapters, there was a particular scene I couldn’t get out of my head. It wasn’t one within the book itself, but one that harkened forward to Mockingjay. I can picture Coriolanus Snow, eyes focused on the television as the rebels broadcast another one of Katniss’s propaganda videos. He can tell she’s in District 12, walking amongst the rubble of the decimated mining town. He thinks to turn away from the image of the collapsed Justice building and broken town square... until he hears Katniss begin to sing. His blood runs ice cold, every hair on his body stands on end, and in a hoarse, mangled voice, he begins to wail. Every one of his past sins comes rushing back as Katniss Everdeen unwittingly deals the most devastating blow she could ever give to Coriolanus Snow. It’s a scene that remains completely theoretical, and yet it’s perhaps one of the most powerful images in the entire Hunger Games saga. If you’ve enjoyed the rest of the series, then I urge you to read The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

A/N: I might do a part 2 to this, maybe. Also, Sorry to the one who requested something else first. Still looking for a trope to match your description :’<, but I will get to it!! Please do submit um, specific tropes. That will also make it kinda easier :)). Thank you!

Sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind? I had fun though. Will try to stick closer to the theme next time ;-;. Really need to practice. This feels more like… unintended? Marriage? Then Accidental? Yep. I might just need to redo this prompt someday huehuehue. I’ve been burnt out of good ideas lately so. This is ;-; sorry. Realized too late, and couldn’t retract, rip.

This is not a short, it seems. I have failed. Both the short, and the prompt. I’m sorry. ;-;

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

“This… was not quite what I meant before when I said I needed a partner who could stand alongside me on stage forever.” Claudine muttered, still shocked as she played with the ring on her finger, beholding it with some sort of awe, and slight awkwardness.

“Is that so?” The question was followed by a thoughtful hum. “This was exactly what I had in mind, though.” Maya smiled flirtatiously across the table, act perfect as always as she pretended Claudine’s words and the migraine she currently sported did not hurt her as much as they actually did.

“Hmmm.” Claudine simply continued to scrutinize the jewelry that now adorned her finger, not sparing Maya a glance.

This made the latter deflate, confidence shrinking by the minute. Claudine… did she really dislike the situation all that much?

Maybe Maya should find this sudden, forced(?) romantic engagement weird as well. After all,

They were only best friends.

And best friends didn’t just wake up side-by-side, married, out of the blue.

-As much as Maya loved the mere idea of it.

The events of yesternight were surprisingly vivid and fresh in her mind; Claudine’s as well. This only served to feed the uncomfortable atmosphere and embarrassment between them as they tried to wrap their heads around the thought of them actually, legitimately, officially being married.

How had it even come to that point?

Well…

It all started with Maya’s celebratory party after a successful nation-wide tour for her new show. Claudine had come to watch the top star in all her glory on the closing night, and had gotten herself invited along with the cast afterwards while the pair had been exchanging pleasantries and the usual congratulations. Claudine had been pulled along so naturally, like she was meant to be with the group, and it wasn’t even on Maya’s request.

Maya was ever in awe of her former partner’s charisma, drawing her own cast to the French actress, as if she were their companion these past few months of dedicated rehearsals and shows.

She was happy, and just the slightest bit jealous. Of Claudine or her cast? Maya didn’t really know.

Another thing she did not know was that everyone knew something. That there was something different, different about Maya and Claudine, leading to this turn of events.

After months of dealing with a stoic Maya with minimal genuine emotions slipping by, they’d known in a heartbeat when things changed. Changed when Saijou Claudine, her best friend, was around. They’d have to be blind to not notice how Tendou Maya was always much more enthusiastic in practice whenever Claudine would drop by. Though of course, she was always perfect during any performance, whether in practice or the final thing.

But the troupe knew it was different. It just was. As unexplainable as it was.

There would be weeks when Claudine would never show up, and sometimes it felt like practice was a little tense. Maya was like a deprived pup, waiting on her owner, eyes darting to the door at the end of the practice hall any chance she’d get. She thought she was being discreet, but no. No, she was not.

By no means did her distraction ever weigh anyone down. Maya would die before letting something as trivial as feelings get to her. But… it was clear when her heart was in a place separate from the stage. It never did leave, but it occasionally wandered off, taking its steps farther and farther to where Claudine was as time went by.

Moments like those, the cast had learned to deal with. With how often Claudine came over, they’d all gotten to know each other enough to exchange numbers, and it was simply an easy matter of praying the woman wasn’t too busy for a quick video call, the troupe members shoving a smiling Claudine on their phone screen, the blonde tutting Maya and telling her to move her ass along and stop troubling the rest of the group.

They could just see the light beaming off of Maya even as she was being scolded; so happy, so pleased.

‘Best friends’ their ass.

She’d make a haughty, faux-prideful remark and Claudine would call her out on it, be her usual irritated self with the occasional “mechante va!” . Maya would laugh airily at her, before calming down and mumbling softly how she missed Claudine, how she wished she could pay her a visit- selfish as it sounded. Claudine would then apologize for being so busy, tell Maya that her schedule was hectic at the moment, but that she’d try to swing by one way or another soon. The cast would pretend they didn’t hear the longing in the pair’s tones over the phone, how Maya’s usually perfect posture would slip, frame slouching in poorly-hidden sorrow.

Being apart clearly tore at her. But what could anyone do? Maya had chosen the world of Takarazuka, and Claudine went to walk on broadway. It was surprising enough that they were able to still visit one another as often as they did, Maya surely having been on Claudine’s sets more than once, always welcome, and ever well-known.

They were inseparable, not only physically, but in public image and name as well.

And so with all this knowledge, it was only the obvious choice that Claudine would be invited as an honorary guest to the afterparty, right? No problems with that, right?

….right. Maybe.

Everything had been going swell at first. All was the norm when it came to these somewhat generic parties. There were the usual speeches, acknowledgements, some challenges, karaoke and games. Yes, games. And one game just so happened to swerve them completely off of the safe course.

Maya had been observing Claudine the whole night from where she was seated at the head of the table with important producers and guests. She tried her utmost to hide the annoyance at being interviewed after a long show, unable to enjoy the ambience of the festivities. Coupled with that were the people attempting to get with her, or at least suck up to her good graces. Albeit, she should be used to all this, with Claudine so near, yet so out of reach, it only served to tick her off each second that went by with these snakes of men and women coiling about her, choking her with their disingenuous praises.They were as acid in her ears, burning hot and unwelcomely painful.

The horrid collective concentration of their too-strong “fancy” perfumes with scents all jumbled and odd, along with all the alcohol they made her down (she willingly did so, if only to distract herself from all of them) made bile tickle the bottom of her throat, humiliation threatening to make its appearance.

‘Ah, how annoying.’

She’d much rather be next to one gorgeous French woman, standing alongside all her underrated castmates- these moneybags never gave their potentials a second glance, the idiots. She’d much prefer to be dancing the night away to the oddest of tunes, but enjoying each moment all the same with the rest of her new family, alongside one who had always been her family. And her home. And-... she would stop herself right there.

She hadn’t the right to claim Claudine like that. Not while she remained cowardly, concealing her affections each and every day. She shouldn’t. Not until she made the effort to be able to.

Maya sighed, downing another glass of beer. She was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. She needed a different distraction. One that hopefully did not involve her getting more drunk than she already was.

Who better a distraction than Saijou Claudine then? Beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, voice a pleasing timbre to the ears, aura radiant and warm. Maya sighed, feeling her stress melt away instantly the moment she’d placed her focus on her cherished partner. Now, if only she could call for her attention to save her, or maybe go to her and spend the rest of the night with- wait. Wait a second.

While observing Claudine intently, Maya had realized something. Maya, with all her competitive spirit, had taken note of the fact that Claudine had drunk one glass of alcohol more than Maya. How she knew this? Besides the number of empty glasses laid before the woman on a table as the troupe had currently advanced into a drinking competition, Maya had subconsciously been taking note of each time Claudine called for another drink when Maya managed to spare her a glance. And she always seemed to be taking in more and more!

Therefore, by her very sober mind’s standards, did this not mean that Claudine was trying- and actually being- superior? With the higher tolerance and capacity? Claudine was winning something! And that certainly wouldn’t do! For Maya was always the winner.

Yes! Maya now had the perfect reason to get out of this unwanted bind! She had to defend her honor! She had to maintain her winning streak! She had to best Claudine as she always did in any competition they had! It was tradition; everyone knew of their rivalry since the beginning of time. This was a valid excuse!

With not so much as a word of farewell to the blabbering buffoons she’d be leaving behind, Maya made her exit, stumbling momentarily- whoops, was that supposed to happen?- as she moved out of her seat towards where Claudine currently stood. She had left the drinking game she’d been a part of moments prior, now occupied in talking with one of the show’s directors who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the affairs that Maya had been drowning in, it seemed. And he should have been the one to be receiving all these… those people. He made Maya his scapegoat, the damned old man.

“Tch.”

She observed for a moment as they continued chatting, one moment looking serious, then the next, laughing as if they were old time friends. Was their conversation of great significance at the moment? Maybe. Maybe Maya shouldn’t cut in. But Claudine was animatedly communicating with him, gestures and smiles and all, and something stirred within her at the thought of her best friend so close to this man. Claudine looked like she was having fun. Too much fun. So Maya thought it would be best to interrupt them. Right now.

“Ma Claudine!” She hiccuped, covering her mouth in surprise, and giggling a little ‘sorry’, very amused by the sound that had slipped from her own lips.

“Hmm?” The woman turned around before her eyes widened, moving forward just in time to catch Maya in her arms as she slumped forward. “Maya?! What are-” Her scent… though still as pleasant as always, was mixed with something Claudine didn’t quite fancy as much.

“Claudine? Oh! Claudine! Greetings, my lovely sta-”

Maya had leaned in closer to do who knows what, but Claudine was not having it. Not right now. She pushed her face away, still holding the girl up by the waist. “Maya! You’re drunk! So drunk!” She screeched, already requesting for a glass of water that the director went and fetched from a passing waiter, a glass of relief that Maya adamantly rejected, stomping her foot down with a little whine.

“No! Am not!” She slurred, giggling some more. “But maybe you are!” She poked at Claudine’s chest. “And so you won’t accept my challenge!”

“Challenge?” Claudine shook her head, not wanting to be distracted from the matter at hand. The matter in her hands being an incredibly wasted Maya. “Maya, I think you’ve had a little too much to-”

“You’ve had too much to drink? Haha, I thought so. You’re looking a little red, my dear.” Maya drawled, dragging a manicured nail along Claudine’s cheek, lightly scratching.

“No,” Claudine sighed. “I am very much sober, thank you.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on now, be a good girl for me and take this water.” She tipped the glass the director had passed her, getting Maya to drink somehow.

“I’d say thank you-” Maya exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air, still slumped against Claudine. “But times like these, I can’t be grateful to the enemy. Saijou Claudine!” She patted the said woman’s cheek, maybe a little too hard. It sounded like it would leave a mark.

“Maybe you need more water.” Claudine grit her teeth, very willing to douse Maya with a pitcher with the way she was acting at the moment.

“I challenge you-”

“Are you not listening?!”

“To a drinking contest!”

“I just told you you’ve had enough-”

“Scared?”

“Maya, if you drink any more, you’ll-”

“You’ll lose to me.” Maya grinned, evil and conniving. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? Haven’t won lately, dear Claudine.” Maya chuckled, lips leaning close to a now shaking Claudine, irritation and fury building. Maya just had to add the spark to the ready fuel. “- or at all.”

“You…. you… mechante va! ” Claudine grabbed Maya by the wrist, taking her to the drinking table, seating her opposite of herself. “I’ll make sure you eat your words. Or well… drink them bitterly. More bitter than any alcohol or your tears. Be prepared, Tendou Maya!”

“Always am, Saijou Claudine. ”

//-//-//-//-//

Ten mugs in and Maya was toeing the edge of consciousness. Or lack of it. Her mind was floaty, hazy, dull.

Still, she could not lose. Not to anyone. Especially not to Claudine. She had to always stay on her toes, and keep Claudine’s eyes on her… she’d also like it if they met her own and they’d stare into one another’s colored gems, the sunset’s rays hitting Claudine so perfectly as they had dinner by the beach, the sound of waves beating against the coast as Maya got down on one knee and- that was not important right now.

Maya had to get through one more drink. She shook irrelevant thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus. Focus.

Focus on… Claudine and her pretty pink eyes, almost identical to the flush of her face, lips parted slightly as she breathed gently over the chilled glass, droplets condensing on the outside and rolling down, and gently falling onto the waxed wood of the table.

‘ Ah… you’re just so… ‘

“Beautiful.”

“What was… that?” Claudine got out, tolerance slipping after so many rounds of drinking, including the ones from her previous match up.

“If I win this… there’s a reward, right?” Maya changed the subject, hoping Claudine was drunk enough to truly not have registered her little slip up. Now was not the time for her desires to be made known. She took in a deep breath of air while their drinks were being refilled. “There is. Right?” Violets pinned Claudine in place, daring her to say no.

“Mmph.” Claudine nodded sloppily, reaching for the full glass, bringing it closer and staring into liquid death. This little contest might just be going too far. Claudine still had work the next day. She knew this. Maya knew this too. Claudine knew that Maya knew this. And yet, here they were, probably way past midnight and into the early morning, drowned in intoxication and pride. And yet, “Whatever you want.”

Maya had never been so irresponsible in her life, to get this inebriated. She knew this was a first for Claudine as well. They were usually so careful and calculated, and just… not this pair of reckless drunkards, consuming glass after glass, staring into each other’s souls, no one willing to back down.

“Whatever… I w-want… you sh-say…” Maya drawled, tapping a finger against her cheek, looking to be in thought.

“Obvious-ugh-... obviously… within my power to give.” Claudine laid her head back against her seat, breathing heavily through her nose and huffing out strongly, hoping she wouldn’t just spill her guts right then and there.

She was going to fucking win this.

“And if you won? Whaateveeerr could Claudine Saijou even need, or want in this world?” Maya giggled, taunting. “I’ll give it to you. All of it. Even if it were to be the moon that you wanted, or a star.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not as unrealistic as you.” Claudine waved.

The twentieth glass glared at them through the table.

Maya could barely manage to read Claudine’s body language, but she knew the girl was at her limit. Well, she was too. Her beautiful best friend remained staring into the cup.

“Giving up?”

Claudine shot her a glare, one that sent electricity coursing all throughout Maya’s entire being. She loved it. She loved it so much. This feeling, that gaze, that Claudine. She loved her.

And all Maya wanted to do was be able to tell her without fearing rejection. Why she ever did was stupid. She knew Claudine, and Claudine knew her. They knew each other’s minds, almost as if they shared them. She knew Claudine’s kind and gentle heart. She would feel her affections, sweetness, and genuine thoughts in every action.

So why was she so hesitant?

Why did she still think that Claudine might not return her feelings?

Maybe it was because she knew she could be too egotistical and assuming; assuming that everyone loved her, and always would. Because they just did.

But Claudine wasn’t everyone.

Claudine didn’t fawn over her every gesture, or plaster her posters along her wall, or cry out for autographs, or send her billions of gifts and mails and extravagant whatevers.

Claudine just stayed by her side. Even after seeing how weak Maya truly was.

Even now, in her insecure, lowly, shameful state.

Claudine loved her.

Maybe.

Maya wasn’t brave enough to confirm that sober, so maybe this little contest reaped good benefits for her after all.

She had a chance if she won. Yes. She’d use the reward to request Claudine to go out on a date with her, then they’d go to this quaint little cafe, just like the ones Claudine loved in back in France, and Maya would get her a dress in a shop, and take her on a boat ride and-

“Maya.”

“Do you like the swan boats, or the wooden ones?”

“...huh?”

“O-oh.” Snapping out of her reverie, Maya asked Claudine to repeat her words, apologizing for being absent-minded.

“Iiit’s… it’s alright.” Claudine blinked, brow raised in question, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Anywaaay,” she sighed. “I… said I’ll sh-stop. Tch. I give in. You win.”

Claudine sounded a lot less drunk then Maya, but maybe the glass of water in her hand, as well as the lack of people around them explained that Maya had been out of it for a while. Really, Maya was so far gone from the world that she hadn’t noticed most of her troupe and guests had already headed on home. Even the bartender who had been serving them up to this point was already wiping down the far ends of the counter, preparing to close up.

She would have been concerned about all that, if not for one little detail...

“Araaaa~Ara, Shaijou-shaannn~” She grinned. “Admitting de-*hic*-feat is so unlike y- ack”

Claudine retracted the hand that had just chopped Maya on the head. “Quiet. Drink your water and let’s go home.”

“Eeehhh...”

Claudine sighed. She barely had enough of a mind to be thinking straight right now. She really should have stopped this stupid little thing sooner. She was lucky enough to notice that Maya had very much passed out seated, and she knew she was on the brink of losing her rationality as well. So she just wanted them both to get home in one piece before she lost all semblance of controlled thought. They needed to be home safe. Home separately, not together of course, not that they lived together. Not that Claudine minded , but… oh God. She was really getting there.

“You haven’t forgoootteeen about my… -eugh- ahh… reward though? Have you?” Maya managed, wiping the drool from her cheek as she asked for another glass of water.

“I’m starting... to think you’ll be the one t-to forget it very soon.” Claudine sighed, feeling her eyes begin to droop, rubbing her face with her palms. “Buuut... whatever.  Get it over with. What ish-is it that you want, insufferable woman?” She still tried to maintain her coherent speech, shamed enough for losing their little bet.

Through her exasperated tone, Maya still heard fondness and sprinkles of mirth, Claudine smiling at her gently, even if her brows were furrowed. Ever the good sport. Maya loved her like this too.

“Sooo? Hurry up? We don’t... have all the time in the world here?

Right. Maya’s reward. A response.

Drinking more of her water, she prepared her tongue to speak the necessary words.

‘I want to date you. I want to go out with you. Please go out with me. Please be my girlfriend, please be mine.’

“Maya?” Claudine was beginning to get worried as Maya just stared at her blankly.

‘I love you.’

“Oi. Tendou Maya!”

‘You’re beautiful, inspiring and amazing.’

“Maya? Ma Maya?”

‘I love you. I want to be with you. For a long long time. Please go out with me. Say it Maya. God damn, SAY IT!’

“Tendou Maya!” Claudine shook her by the shoulders, very concerned now by the lack of response, that concern quickly turned into surprised confusion as Maya blurted out her request.

“How about your hand in marriage?”

“...”

‘ What did she just…’

Claudine was in too much shock, too drunk to comprehend what the hell Maya had just asked. So just as stupidly, she replied,

“Sure whatever.”

Maya felt herself slightly sober up suddenly. Wait… didn’t she just say… and Claudine said... “Is… Is that…. Are you shue-su… sure?? Are you-”

Claudine sighed, headache coming on quick. She hoped she had aspirin in her bag. Or car. Or- ah gosh dang it, she wasn’t in the safest state to drive. “Go on ahead, you idiot.”

“But…” Maya tried to reach out for Claudine, still fairly surprised. “What about yoouur… feehlinshh-whoops.” She had stumbled forward again, Claudine catching her the same way she did earlier that night.

Just a lot less sober.

Claudine sighed, taking a sip from her water glass on the counter, hoping to keep her mind for moments longer. Downing one big gulp, she decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest from time to time. Maya was a lot less sharp- scratch that. She was completely dense when it came to Claudine, it seemed. Or maybe she was pretending not to know of the blonde’s feelings for her. Whichever it was, Claudine had no better chance to tell Maya something she’d otherwise never allow the light of day to see.

The truth of her feelings. It was fine. Nothing would be amiss after this, even if Maya understood it now. Tomorrow would be a normal day. So Claudine just needed to tell her honestly, and wholeheartedly, try to make these feelings known tonight. Not that Maya would remember this in the morning. Not that Claudine wanted her to.

This water tasted funny.

But Claudine needed to confess first.

“Don’t you know I’ve…”

‘Huh? What is this… why is everything suddenly so hazy and…’

“likaefgfin you fer so”

“Whaaat was thaaat?” Maya replied a little too loud for Claudine’s eardrums to take.

She barely registered the bartender cursing under his breath, apologizing for leaving that drink on the counter fairly close to Claudine’s water. It was supposed to be his. A strong drink for him to unwind with.

“Ah, Fuck it.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I have to admit, as weird as it feels, I’m impressed.” Claudine whistled, still looking at the metal band wrapped about her finger, fitting perfectly, design simple, yet intricate- and how did that even work. A beautiful purple sapphire rested at the apex of its curve. Claudine admired it carefully. “I really am impressed. How you managed to arrange all this, drunk. Rings and all, even marriage papers.”

Claudine sorted through her memories of the day hours prior to their current afternoon meal time on Claudine’s apartment balcony, admiring the sunset that was closing in. Fragments of images of them walking up to an empty church with Maya shaking down a priest to marry them haunted her recall.

Claudine wasn't all that religious, but Dear Lord, forgive them both.

Claudine felt the intensity of second-hand embarrassment wash over her. Really. What had they been doing at six a.m.?

Right. They had been busy trying to get married.

They even sat in front of the supreme court, waiting for it to open come eight-thirty in the morning. How Maya convinced people there to get them to do the procedures that fast was a mystery in and of itself, but in barely two hours, they were walking onto the street, hand-in-hand, somehow still barely conscious and far from sober enough, with the sun blaring in their eyes, sleep-deprived, and now officially married.

“I still can’t believe your crazy amounts of luck, to have come across a travelling trader. And these rings…” Claudine stroked them gently. “Exotic and from a different country, huh…” She murmured. “Hope they aren’t fake.”

Maya choked on the tea she had been sipping, tongue burnt suddenly. “I-I’ll have you know I have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

Claudine merely hummed again, stirring Maya’s anxiousness up even worse. Maya thumbed the onyx on her own wedding ring, biting her lip nervously, a question on the tip of her tongue escaping after being held back since they’d regained consciousness.

“Do you mind it? Being married to me?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Claudine to hear. Or not in case she had an unfavorable answer for Maya that she didn’t know if she wanted to hear. “Does it bother you?”

Claudine’s eyes lifted up, a sparkle in them, and a few shadows swirling about. Maya read it as doubt, but with a conviction. Claudine had something planned. What it was waslost on Maya, but clearly she was about to say something important-

“I mean, I love you. So I hardly mind this arrangement, out of order as it is.” Claudine laughed. “And I’m fairly sure you feel the same way, considering you were the one to propose this. Quite literally propose. So,” She tried her best to offer a reassuring smile, finally looking Maya’s way to meet her eyes and tell her what they both thought about this- “Maya?”

The sight that greeted her was a flabbergasted Tendou Maya, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I… you… I- you- me, l-l”

Claudine blinked, taking Maya’s image all in. Before she broke,

“...pfft- Ahahahaha, you should see your face, Tendou Maya! You look like you can’t believe what I just said!”

“I… I-”

“If you say you actually can’t believe it, I’ll be incredibly heartbroken, you know?” Claudine wiped tears from her eyes; she propped her arm on the table, chin resting on an open palm. “I’d cry a river.” She giggled, but they both knew there was a truth to her words.

Maya was still at a loss. And Claudine was only teasing her more and more. It was frustrating that Maya couldn’t even manage a word out, she couldn’t even tease her back to regain the upper hand-

Wait… didn’t this mean…

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Claudine cocked a brow. “Are you praying or something?”

“You’ve won.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve actually won.”

“Won? Won what, exactly?” Clearly, this victory wasn’t registering in Claudine’s mind, as she still gazed upon Maya tenderly, a soft blush on her face as she lovingly made fun of the girl. Her smile was of a maiden in love, happy and satisfied, and Maya…

“Or am I the one whose won?” A winner to be married to the most wonderful person in the world- unintentional as it was. Maya knew she’d do it all over again. Intentionally, this time.

“If you’re talking about winning me over, then isn’t it a little too late to realize it now, Tendou Maya?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea.

Maya blinked. “Maybe.”

“Eh? Not that?”

“But maybe you can take that as your first victory.” Maya’s usual flirtatious smile had returned, but there was a sincerity to it that made Claudine’s heart flutter in her chest, Maya’s eyes so warm adding to the butterflies within her.

“A-and what… what “reward” do I gain from all of this?” She stuttered, suddenly unable to keep her eyes locked with Maya’s.

“My, what a silly question, Ma Claudine.” Maya reached a hand over, taking Claudine’s ringed one in her own. “For haven’t you already won me?”

“...you really are infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly charming?”

“I should not be as calm and accepting as I am in-and-of this situation. I just got proposed to and married in the span of so few hours.” Claudine shook her head, almost in disbelief. Almost. There were too many things grounding her in this reality, proving to her that she indeed was bonded to Maya in sickness and in health.

“That wasn’t a no, and don’t change the subject like that.” Maya laughed, standing up from her seat and walking around the table, standing behind Claudine for a while, unsure if she should proceed with her actions.

“Quit being weird and standing behind me like a stalker. Just hug me if that’s what you were planning on doing. You already did it before all this, what’s stopping you now?”

“Th-things are different this time, clearly I’d be a little nervous!.”

“Wuss.” Claudine teased, but her heart was beating way too loudly in her chest.

“Ever the sharp tongue.” Maya sighed fondly, wrapping her arms around Claudine from behind, kissing her on the temple.

“You like it.”

“I do, Mrs. Tendou.”

“Hmm? Are you still drunk? You got a little confused there, Tendou Maya.” Claudine chuckled, a hand reaching for Maya’s left and kissing the back of it, before kissing the ring.

“Not at all? Are you forgetting something? Tendou Claudine?”

“Ten- ah…” Claudine’s face burst into flames, the realization finally sinking in. That she was actually married to the person she loved for so long. So unconventionally too. She would have been consumed by these emotions, but then again, there was something wrong about that statement that stirred up her competitive nature. “Why do I take your name?”

“Well, obviously, I-”

“Saijou Maya.”

Both their brows twitched.

“Yes, that just…”

“Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Tendou Claudine does not work for me either.” Claudine huffed.

“Alright, alright.” Maya laughed. “Mrs. Saijou, would that work for you?”

Claudine turned to give her a bright smile, actually liking how that sounded. “Yes, it would, Mrs. Tendou.”

Staring into one another’s eyes, they felt that familiar magnetic pull they always seemed to have between them, drawing them ever closer. They had always tried to fight against it before, afraid of what the next moment would bring, but now… there was none of that fear. Only reassurance and love.

“May I kiss you, Saijou Claudine?” Maya whispered, softly against Claudine’s lips that were now barely touching her own, breaths mingling and warm.

“You’ve already married me. So why not?”

Soft and teasing, chasing and embracing, their first kiss was all sorts of wonder, and colorful in every way. Their first kiss, and it had happened after they had gotten married.

It truly was out of order, the way they did things. Odd and different, just as everyday was when they were together. Never dull, never getting old. Always something new and changing. Never ordinary. But really, when were they ever the ordinary pair, Maya and Claudine?

Pulling away, Maya laughed. Laughed so hard tears spilled from her eyes until her laughter turned to chuckles, and into sobs, all of joy.

“I love you.”

Claudine felt herself tear up as well, getting up from her seat to hug Maya in full, both of them holding onto one another, neither willing to let go. Whispered reassurances and small kisses brought them down from their emotional high, calming them both as they swayed about in a slow dance on the terrace. They shared words, not really meaning anything at the moment. A few jokes, a few feelings, a little love.

It truly was a wonder how perfect everything fit, and felt. Like it was all natural, the pair so easily getting used to this new lifestyle as sudden as it was.

The stars shone overhead as night fell upon the dancers, the cool breeze wrapping them in its refreshing embrace. Nature provided them their music to a well-practiced dance that only they knew, and Maya had never felt more content in a moment than now. Truly, it was a perfect end to their perfect wedding day. But something seemed to be missing...

“Honeymoon?”

“...”

“Not here, obviously. Bahamas?”

“...”

“Claudine?”

Face heated and hidden in Maya’s neck, Claudine mumbled, “You truly have no shame…” She groaned, but added, “...Only if you’re paying.”.

Maybe some things needed the normal getting used to, after all.

Notes:

A/N: Might make a part 2 if I feel like it. This one was fun! ~Shintori Khazumi

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 14 | Birthdays, Flares, & Sequins | 7.2k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Sequins & Zippers Masterlist

General Masterlist

Don’t forget that reblogs help writers out a ton !!!

love y’all, mean it.

___________________________

Aurora’s birthday starts with a knock on the door of her hotel room waking her up. She rolls out of bed and is met with a hotel employee when she opens the door. She moves out of the way and can barely get out a ‘good morning” from the shock she’s in when she sees the cart the employee wheels in. 

“Happy Birthday, Miss Del Gatto!” He greets her as he lifts off the silver lid to the plate. “Enjoy your breakfast.” 

Aurora rushes out a thank you and quickly grabs a few bills from her bag to tip him. Once he leaves she goes to investigate. A golden Belgium waffle, fruit, bacon and a french press full of coffee. There’s a vase of coral coloured roses and bursts of baby’s-breath and a note that’s propped up against said vase. She recognizes the handwriting as well as her own. “Rory” is scribbled across the envelope. A blush rises to her cheeks. 

Typically, Aurora’s birthday is uneventful. She likes it lowkey. If it’s lowkey, there’s no expectations to be met. There’s never a let down. There was 1 birthday where she tried to plan a night, dinner with her closest friends and then back to her apartment for a party. During that dinner she got text after text with some lame excuse or another that yet another person couldn’t come to the party. Aurora hated that birthday and ever since she just didn’t put a big effort in. She kept things small, dinner with family, movie night with Issac. 

It’s not even 10am and Aurora’s birthday is already better than any other year. She hadn’t even reminded Harry that her birthday was coming up. She did assume he had someone that kept him on top of it though. He never missed a crew member's birthday. Cake and singing on stage if it was a show day and always a massive cake for everyone at craft services. Aurora didn’t expect this; flowers, breakfast, a handwritten note. The more she thought about it, the more rosy her cheeks turned. 

She sent Harry a photo of the cart before she ate with a short thank you text and he responded with a phone call. He cheered over the phone from his hotel room, or maybe a business coffee meeting, she wasn’t sure, but he didn’t hold back. He was loud and excited and now Aurora’s cheeks weren’t just bright red, they hurt too, from smiling so big. 

Aurora ate the breakfast Harry sent to her while on the phone with her parents and then Leila and responded to a handful of texts from college friends as she got ready. Harry had told her to meet her later that afternoon at Soho House, the city club he was staying at. With the Chicago show happening the next day, they had a wide open schedule. Aurora told him she wanted a chill day, to enjoy the summer weather in the city. So they planned to spend the day at the Soho House pool deck and Harry shared that he had reservations for dinner later that evening. 

Aurora truly cannot complain a single bit about the afternoon. Her and Harry share a blue and white striped chaise on the pool deck and spend their time in and out of the pool, reading, and playing a few games of gin rummy when Mitch and Sara join them for a bit. It’s much later in the afternoon when they decide a nap is much needed. The sun is exhausting and frankly, it’s their 1st day off in a while. 

They’re tired. 

But that doesn’t stop them from showering off the chlorine together when they go back to Harry’s room. The pair linger under the steady stream of water in the obnoxiously (but thankfully) large shower. They don’t remember how tired they are until they get out of and Harry is lazily kissing Aurora’s skin as he dries her off. Harry tosses her a t-shirt of his to wear while they nap. They don’t sleep for long, but they do stay in the crisp white sheets, tangled together for longer. 

“Ope, your nose is a little burnt,” Harry practically whispers to Aurora while tapping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger. They’re laying so close that when Aurora scrunches her nose at the gesture he not only instantly feels the tightness of her skin there but the brush of Harry’s nose against her own. She reaches up to rub at it for a second. 

“Bound to happen, I guess. I just hope my back isn’t bad,” Aurora comments as she sits up, pulling away from Harry’s arms. “How bad is it?” she asks, tugging at the t-shirt to reveal some skin for Harry to get a good look. 

Harry doesn’t say anything. He reaches his hands out, sitting up behind Aurora. There’s warmth that transfers from her back to the palm of his hand but it isn’t hot. Harry moves the shirt higher up and kisses the middle of her spine. Aurora shudders. 

“No burn,” he says against her skin. 

“Really?” she asks, surprised. 

“Hey, I got your back when we got to the pool! Gotta trust that I wouldn’t let ya burn.” 

“No, no, no,” Aurora starts to explain, turning around to face him. “I just always burn, no matter what.” 

“Well, looks like all you’ve needed your entire life was me helping you with your sunblock.” Aurora groans and only manages to shake her head before she’s laughing and Harry’s joining in. Harry looks to clock on the bedside table. “We should start getting ready. Don’t wanna be late for our reservations.” Aurora sighs, because even though her stomach rumbles a bit at the thought of dinner, she’s perfectly happy right here with Harry. “Come on, love,” Harry says as he gets off the bed, hands out to encourage Aurora to get up and join him.

When Aurora stands, she does nothing to move to get ready. She wraps her arms around Harry’s waist and rests her head against his shoulder. She lets out a deep sigh. 

“Everything alright, Ror?” 

“Mhm,” Aurora hums, squeezing him tighter. Harry rubs a hand soothingly up and down her back. “Best birthday ever.” 

“It’s not over yet,” he says with a small chuckle. Harry pulls her head off of his shoulder and kisses her softly on the lips. “Go on now, I’ve gotta call Jeff to take care of something quick.” He presses his lips to her forehead before turning her around and pushing her towards the bathroom. 

Barely half an hour later when Aurora steps out of the bathroom, Harry is buttoning his shirt. He stops at the 3rd button and that could be because that’s where he intended to stop or he forgets what he’s doing when he sees her. Aurora has a satin finish, strappy dress on. A sharp V dips down at her chest and the skirt moves a bit as she walks towards him. 

“You look beautiful, Rory,” he breathes.

“Thank you,” she responds, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I like this shirt,” she compliments Harry, running her hand over the open collar. He squeezes at her waist feeling the sleek fabric that slides easily underneath his fingertips. 

Harry kisses the top of Aurora’s cheek before stepping away to rummage through his duffle that’s sitting open on the bed. When he turns around he has a small gold wrapped box in his hand. 

“Happy Birthday,” he says, handing her the box. 

Aurora can’t get any words out so she just smiles at him and takes the box. Carefully she pulls at the ribbon and sets it down on the table nearby. She rips away at the gold wrapping paper and is met with a turquoise box.

“Harry,” she whispers before setting the paper down with the ribbon. Her hands pause before she lifts the lid. Tiffany and Co. She takes a breath and lets it out. It doesn’t help with the flush that appears on her chest or the heat rising on the tips of her ears. 

If Aurora thought she couldn’t get any words out before, there’s no way in hell she can once she lifts the lid and sees what's inside. She sucks in a breath. 

She’s met with a delicate gold chain with small diamonds sparingly sprinkled throughout it. Aurora runs her finger over the necklace in the box.

The silence is almost driving Harry mad as he watches her every move. It feels like the room is getting smaller and nothing else exists besides her. Aurora can feel her skin heat up more and more as Harry takes a step closer

“May I?” Harry asks quietly, gesturing to the box. “Unless, you don’t like-”

“Like it? Aurora cuts him off, finally finding her voice, though it cracks a tad. “Harry, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It's far too much.” 

“It’s not too much. Let me, yeah?” Harry rushes out as Aurora begins to raise the necklace from the box. 

Harry takes the delicate gold necklace from the box. He swipes Aurora’s hair off to one side and she moves to gather it in her hand to get it out of the way. Harry’s hands move slowly, careful not to damage the necklace in any way. The chain is cold against Aurora’s skin and at the feeling of it she looks down at it against her chest. The diamonds sparkle and the minimal lights in the hotel room reflect off of them. She reaches to touch the necklace as Harry secures the clasp at the back of her neck. She can feel the coolness on her hand now but it starts to disappear as she notices how quickly her heart is racing. She’s speechless again and she can feel tears prickle at her eyes. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath but it still comes out shaky. The coolness is completely gone once Harry trails a finger down Aurora’s spine. There’s heat in the wake of his movements and after another deep, shaky breath, Aurora turns around and crashes her lips against Harry’s. 

This will have to do for words right now, she thinks. When they pull apart, barely, Harry’s breath fans across Aurora’s face and she can feel her chest rise and fall, the necklace still laying delicately there. Harry takes his hand and delicately touches the diamond that sits perfectly on Aurora’s sternum.

“Thank you,” Aurora whispers as she watches Harry admire the necklace he’s given her. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” Aurora lets one of her hands slide down Harry's arm, gives his hand a squeeze and then she walks towards the full length mirror that is hung on the wall. 

When she sees her reflection, she can’t help but smile. She reaches for the chain hanging on her neck because she has to touch it to make sure it’s really there. 

“Happy Birthday, my love,” Harry whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms around her waist from behind. His lips graze against the back of her ear and along the side of her neck. Aurora closes her eyes and let’s his arms wrap tighter and his lips cover more skin. 

Harry’s phone ringing across the room is what pulls them away from each other. The conversation is quick and Aurora puts her heels after Harry slides the phone into his pocket along with his wallet. Harry opens the door after one quick kiss and ushers Aurora out of the hotel room.

Aurora has never been one to find her reflection everywhere she can, but right now, with the diamonds picking up every single glint of light, she can’t help but awe at the sight of herself being trailed along the hotel hallway by Harry. His broad shoulders only a blur as she hones in on the sparkles in each mirror. 

“I never asked if you liked surprises or not,” Harry trails off as he leads Aurora through a dark lit hallway. Aurora gives him a wary look. “Doesn’t matter cause we’re here already and I promise you’ll like this one.”

“You said we were going out for dinner,” Aurora reminds him. 

Harry presses a sure kiss to the top of Aurora’s head and her heart beats hard against her chest, unsure of what Harry has planned. When they reach the door at the end of the hallway, Harry reaches in front of them to open the door and lead her through. A small glass window lined bar is on the other side and it seems like a normal thursday night but Harry doesn’t stop at the hostess stand or lead aurora to the bar. Instead, he grips her hand tighter and leads her to another door across the room. Aurora’s too preoccupied by fear of a surprise to actually take the time to come up with what the surprise could be. She can’t decipher between the beat of her heart and the butterflies in her stomach as Harry looks back at her with a smile that speaks more than anyone knows. 

She’s met with a sparkling, lowly lit rooftop. Aurora barely notices the strings of fairy lights that hang from the roof behind them to the slender beams at the edge of the deck before she sees all the familiar faces surrounding the door. A loud cheer of “Surprise!” echoes into the empty night sky. Aurora gasps. It didn’t even cross her mind that she’d be met with a group of people she calls family now. Her cheeks hurt from how far she’s stretched her mouth into a smile. Harry’s arm wraps around her waist tightly and he kisses her check. 

“Happy Birthday, Roo!” 

Aurora’s breath catches in her throat when she hears the familiar voice. Her eyes instantly well up with tears when she sees Issac walk towards her. She can feel Harry's grip on her waist loosen and she looks up to him and he just gives her a nod and smile. Aurora practically runs up to her best friend to hug him.

“What're you doing here?” Aurora asks when she pulls away from the hug. 

“You said I could come visit you on tour!” Issac answers, like it’s obvious. 

“I mean yeah, but I thought you decided on Denver!” 

“That was just the cover up. Harry messaged me on instagram to help plan your birthday. So here I am.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises!” 

“You don’t seem to hate this one.” 

Aurora hits him across the arm. “No, but it’s the principal!!” 

“Yeah okay, whatever you say, Roo. I’m going to go get a beer, what do you want?” 

“You know me well enough!” Aurora yells as Issac walks away towards the small bar that is set up in the corner of the rooftop. 

Aurora turns around, knowing Harry is hovering behind her. She takes no time at all to take his face in her hands and kiss him. 

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him again. His grip on her waist tightens as he dips her back a tad. 

“Love you,” Harry whispers back between short pecks. “Happy Birthday, Ror,” he says once he’s pulled away and straightened the 2 of them out. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, his finger lingering across the top of her cheek and then down to the necklace that still lays perfectly around her neck. 

There’s a breeze on the rooftop, but the unmistakable summer humidity creates a light sheen of sweat across Harry’s chest where it peaks out above the lowly button shirt and Aurora can feel the heat radiating off of him. Neither of them mind the unavoidable warmth between them and they stay linked together as they move through the small crowd. Harry lets Aurora go when someone goes in to hug her and wish her a Happy Birthday, but he’s quick to wrap his arm back around her waist. Aurora can feel Harry play with the silky fabric of her dress, sometimes his hand roams her skin, thankful for the open back.

“Here you go, Birthday Girl,” Isaac says as he hands Aurora a glass that has salt lining the rim. “Margarita, just how you like it.” 

“I cannot believe you’re here right now,” Aurora says, still in disbelief, as she takes the glass from him. 

“Roo’s mentioned that you like straight tequila, so,” Issac addresses Harry, handing him a glass as well. Harry chuckles and thanks him. “Cheers!” 

“So do I need to formally introduce you two or?” Aurora asks after they all take a sip of their drinks. 

“Well, I messaged Issac on instagram like he said, but this is the first time we’ve met face to face, so,” Harry answers. 

“Alright, Harry this is Issac. Issac, this is Harry. You two are required to get along. There are no exceptions.” 

“Bossy one isn’t she?” Isaac jokes as he shakes Harry’s hand. 

“Sure is! Always telling me what to wear and fixing my clothes.” 

“Hey!!!” Aurora whines. 

Harry just giggles before kissing her cheek. 

“Oh great, y’all are gonna gang up on me from now on, huh?” 

Harry and Issac look at eachother, shrug their shoulders simultaneously and then yell out a ‘Yeah’ almost in sync. Aurora groans at them but can’t help the smile that tears across her face and she wished that she had dimples like Harry’s so that people could innately know exactly how happy she is in this moment. She wishes she could bottle up this feeling and keep it with her forever. Pull it out of her suitcase when she’s homesick in a hotel or anxious on an airplane; or even when she’s just as happy as she is now to remind herself that this feeling comes from the people she loves most in this world. It comes from them loving her just as much as she loves them. It's a feeling she truly could not explain as she looks from Harry to Issac’s face and then to the crowd around her on the rooftop, all there to celebrate her. Never has she felt like this on her birthday. 

Someone brings out a cake that’s littered with candles and a big sparkler on top when Aurora is drinking her 3rd or 4th margarita. Everyone joins in singing Happy Birthday and after Aurora blows out the candles Harry makes sure to scoop up a bit of icing and wipes it across her nose. 

Aurora plants herself on one of the couches on the roof to enjoy some cake and people come in and out of the party to drink and eat and chat but all Aurora really remembers is Issac and Harry sitting on either side of her. 

Issac hits it off with Mitch and Sarah and somehow manages to really get Mitch to talk. Issac definitely has that effect on people, easy to talk to, easy to get along with. Since Aurora can remember people have always flocked to him. He has this personality that attracts everyone and Aurora’s grateful for that. Growing up with Issac helped her not become a hermit and made her meet new people, try new things. She’s partly who she is because of him. 

“Got any funny stories about Aurora?” Helene asks Issac from the seat across from them 

“I’ve got loads. Narrow it down to an age and I’ll tell you my fav!” Issac says with a mischievous grin. Aurora groans and pleads for him not to share anything too embarrassing. 

“Hmmm, how about something from high school,” Harry requests and everyone that’s still hanging around nods with drunken enthusiasm. 

Issac thinks for a second, deciding which story to start with. “Okay, so you’ll need to see a few photos to get the full effect.” Harry cackles at the opening of the story and Aurora groans again cause she knows exactly the story Issac’s about to tell. 

| | | | | 

Aurora is sitting backstage in Harry’s dressing room, on the black couch that he has adorned with his Gucci pillows, something she’s started to make fun of him for. He gets all defensive about it, “makes it cozy in here,” he always fights back with a small pout. Or “I like them, leave me alone,” he’ll whine. Harry comes to sit down on the couch with Aurora once he’s showered and in a clean set of track pants and sweatshirt. Aurora’s legs are curled up on the couch and she pats her hands on the tops of her thighs, signaling for Harry to join her and lay his head there. 

“How’re you feeling?” Aurora asks. They both know they drank more than their share last night and Harry was groggy going into his boxing session. 

“Surprisingly good,” he says softly as he crosses his arms over his chest, gently closing his eyes. Aurora rests her hand on top of his arms and places the other starts to play with the fine hair right at his hairline. “Boxing wasn't horrible. Anyways, last night was worth it” he says with a small smile before sighing. 

“Yeah, it was,” Aurora sighs too. “I can’t tell you enough how incredible all of yesterday was.” 

“You told me that over and over again last night,” Harry opens his eyes to look up at Aurora. “And then again this morning,” he offers another smile to Aurora and brings the hand that’s resting with his up to his lips and kisses Aurora’s knuckles gently. Harry rests their hands back to where they were but doesn’t release his hold on Aurora’s. 

“Well I’m gonna keep saying it,” Aurora says and continues the movement in Harry’s hair. “I’ll never forget last night.” 

“I won’t either. Quite a memorable night,” Harry says with a smirk, opening one eye to peer up at Aurora. “Party was good, but the after party,” Harry trails off, an overly flirtatious tone to his voice and his eyebrows waving suggestively. Aurora returns his smirk with a glare and a small shake of her head. Always so cheeky. “Hey, from what I remember, you loved the after party, too,” his smirk grew, showcasing a dimple. 

“‘After party’ implies there were more than 2 people,” Aurora corrects him in a rush, then rolls her eyes as Harry lets out a giggle. “Shush.” 

“Oh, you can’t even keep that grin off your face,” he says, now both eyes open and a full chuckle erupting from his chest. Aurora looks away from his snarky gaze trying to avoid smiling from ear to ear. “Love how flustered you get, sometimes.”

There’s a light, but obvious knock on the dressing room door. 

“Come in,” Aurora chokes out as the smile she’d been avoiding covers her entire face. 

“Hey, Aurora! Harry, just letting you know, 1 hour till curtain for Kacey,” Scott, one of the stage managers announces as he peeks his head into Harry’s dressing room. “Ayae, should be in in about 10 minutes, as well.” 

“Thanks Scott,” Harry says as he sits up on the couch. Scott closes the door behind him. “Hi,” Harry flashes a dopey smile at Aurora before standing up. He moves so he’s directly in front of her. He leans down and rests his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Aurora’s head. She tilts her head up towards his and her nose crinkles as his hair tickles her cheek bones, just long enough to touch now. His smile pulls up higher on the left side, eliciting a deep dimple on his cheek. He presses his lips into Aurora’s quickly, pulling away just as soon as they’re connected. Aurora reaches her hands up to his face, bringing him back to her and pressing her lips to his this time. Aurora’s right hand slides it way to his hair and the other grabs at the neck of the hoodie he’s wearing, pulling him down closer to her. The kiss deepens slightly before Harry pulls away, a smirk on his face. He shakes his head at Aurora before standing up straight. She sighs and sinks back into the couch. 

As Harry walks over to the vanity across the room, Aurora’s eyes divert to his suit for tonight. Aurora can’t quite decide if it’s more burgundy or pink. The velvet trimming on the lapels and sleeve hems are a perfect touch and give the already beautiful suit a sharp finish. Aurora’s eyes travel to the pants that are hanging with the jacket and black buttondown. The exaggerated flares are billowing, even just hanging on the hanger. Aurora looks at the flares a little bit longer, her head tilting to the side as she thinks. Harry’s tall and a whole lot of leg, but the pants seem extremely long, dangerously long. Aurora thinks back to the fittings and can’t remember him trying them on during prep week. Fuck. 

“H, maybe your loafers aren’t the best idea for shoes tonight” Aurora suggests, a concerned look on her face. 

“Uhh, they should be fine. They’re comfortable on stage,” he answers, distractedly, responding to something on his phone. 

“Why don’t you wear your heeled chelsea boots?”

“Hmm?” 

“Your heeled boots? I think you should wear those instead.” 

“My boots? Why?” he questions, setting his phone down and sitting in the chair in front of the vanity. 

“Flares seem a bit long…”

“I’ve got long legs, sweetheart,” he says as he straightens one leg out, exaggerating his movements. Aurora rolls her eyes.

“I know you do, but those flares are longer than your legs. Don’t want you tripping on stage, already clumsy as is.” Aurora sighs, “I don’t think we hemmed those at all.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Harry responds. 

They’re not fine and Aurora repeatedly asks Harry to wear different shoes or let her stitch them up but he’s being stubborn and is convinced they’re fine. He parades around backstage swooshing the exaggerated flares. To each their own, Aurora thinks before realising she’s smiling watching him. She can’t help the butterflies that find a home in her stomach when Harry looks back to her. He drops a wink at Aurora before looking back at his band crowded around him. 

“Hey, Roo,” Issac calls to Aurora from down the hall. “Ya ready to go? I don’t wanna miss Kacey.” 

“Uh yeah, just one second!” 

It’s as if Harry can feel Aurora approach him because he’s turning around with his arms open to pull her into a hug. 

“Good luck,” Aurora whispers into his ear. Harry thanks her with a kiss and quick squeeze to her waist when they pull apart. “Please be careful in those pants on stage.” 

“You worry too much. I’ll see you after, okay? Have fun with Issac!” 

“You seem nervous,” Issac tells Aurora bluntly as they walk to the back of the pit near the sound mix. 

“Harry’s gonna trip on his pants.” Issac laughs at her response. “He was being stupidly stubborn and wouldn’t let me fix ‘em. They’re too long.” 

“So your rockstar is gonna twist his ankle tonight?” Aurora hums before laughing. 

Aurora’s missed Issac like hell. Concerts have always been their thing. There hasn’t been a single one of Harry’s shows that Aurora didn’t wish her best friend was with her. They have so many memories at different concerts across the country. They’ve seen just about all of their favourite musicians. It reminds her of college because they would really only see each other if there was a concert. They’d visit each other in their respective cities and make a few days out of it. At least one night at a concert, another having a movie marathon of their favourites like She’s The Man and August Rush and a tearful goodbye when they had to go back to real life and catch up on papers and studying. It feels like home with Issac next to her singing along to Harry’s lyrics. They hold hands and lean against each other during the slower songs like Meet Me in the Hallway and From the Dining Table and Sign of the Times. They sing along at the top of their lungs to What Makes You Beautiful just like they used to in high school while driving around with nothing better to do. Issac pokes fun at Aurora when she smiles stupidly up at Harry on stage and she just rolls her eyes in response. 

“Chicago, we have two songs left and before we go I wanted to introduce you to my wonderful, wonderful band,” Harry begins as the beat of ‘The Chain’ begins on Sara’s drums. He introduces Adam, Clare and Sarah. After introducing Mitch, the guitar and bass kicks in and Aurora laughs in surprise as Harry pulls his pants up as much as he can before walking to his mic stand. 

Aurora and Issac sing and dance along to song like they have the entire night. The floor is shaking and the feeling in Aurora’s chest is undeniable. Right now with her best friend by her side and her Harry on stage, she truly feels like her heart might rip out of her chest. 

“Chicago, I’ve got you for 5 more minutes,” Harry begins his closing speech. “If you haven’t been singing, that’s no problem. If you haven’t been dancing so far, that’s no problem. For the next 5 minutes, I need you singing every word. For the next 5 minutes, I need you dancing like there is nobody next to you. You are not going to see these people tomorrow! So why do you care? Are you gonna go for it with me?” he yells. “Lets go!” 

Aurora stops in her tracks when the break in the music starts, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as Harry starts to dance around the stage. In the split second Harry stops dancing and reaches for his mic he steps on the flare of his left pant leg and simultaneously starts singing again. Aurora’s jaw drops. In the small time Harry stops singing she sees him mouth to Mitch “Ouch.” Not only does she see this interaction but she can tell by the look on his face he knows there’s an “I told you so” coming his way. Mitch just laughs as Harry goes back to singing.

Aurora drops to the floor in a second, her knees buckling from laughter, her hands on her face to cover her smile. She knows Harry knows where she is in the audience and surely he’s thinking about looking for her to find her reaction OR he’s completely avoiding meeting her eyes in the crowd. 

“Oh My God!” Aurora yells to Issac once she stands up. “He made it so far without tripping. But ‘Chain’ and ‘Kiwi’ are always a risk,” she yells in Issac’s direction. 

“Wow you know him well,” Issac laughs. 

Harry’s performance isn’t affected by the trip so either Harry’s really great at covering it up or the only thing it bruised was his ego. 

“How’s your ankle, bub?” 

Harry huffs, “Go ahead.

“Nah,” Aurora decides. 

“It’s worse if you don’t say it.” 

“Nah, I think you’ve suffered enough,” Aurora says with a small laugh. She breaks the seal on the inside of an instant cold pack. “Here,” she offers it to him after shaking it a bit. 

“Do you just carry these in your purse?” Harry asks as he shrugs the plaid jacket off before sitting down. 

“No, it was in my cart,” Aurora points to her set of rolling drawers by Harry’s wardrobe. Aurora rolls the flare of his pants up out of the way, grabs a pillow from the couch and sets it on the table. She pats it, “put your foot up.” Harry narrows his eyes at her. “Come on, don’t want it to swell too much.” Aurora grabs a towel from the counter quickly and then joins Harry on the couch. Harry gives her a questioning look again. “What?” 

“So you just carry ice packs around,” Harry asks again. 

“I mean no, but always keep them with my stage stuff. My cart used to be my backstage kit for dance then I used it in college for my fashion classes,” Aurora starts to explain. Harry’s face still read confusion so she continues. “When I packed for tour, it felt right to have all the necessities, stage and sewing.” Aurora shrugs. Now she rolls Harry’s sock down a bit so she can see the colour of his skin. “No bruising yet, that's good. Probably just irritated, but didn’t sprain it at least.” She places the towel over his ankle and then takes the ice pack from his hands and lays it on top. 

“So you’re not angry with me?” 

Aurora snaps her head to look at him, her brows furrowed. “Why would I be angry?” 

“Cause you knew my pants were too long and I didn’t let you fix them.” 

“Harry, I don’t know where you got that idea, but I could never be angry about that. I’m sorry it happened but clearly you learned your lesson,” Aurora laughs looking at the ice on his ankle. “Not that big of a deal.” Harry lets out a sigh. “Let’s just make sure you’re careful and it isn’t bad. You still have quite a few shows left.” 

“You’re worrying too much,” Harry says now reaching a hand out to Aurora’s face. 

“Not worrying, I just know how bad ankle injuries can be if you don’t take care of them. I’ve had plenty of sprains in my life.” 

“I’m really fine, Ror.” 

“None of that. Let me take care of you.” Aurora tries to stand, tylenol and water is next on the list.

“Come ‘ere,” Harry pulls on her hand. Aurora falls back into the couch and Harry wastes no time kissing her. He kisses her hard to thank her and to distract him from his painful and cold ankle. 

| | | | |

Harris: saw some photos from last night! The shirt looks much better backwards if i’m being honest

Aurora: BACKWARDS ?????- 

Harris: hahahaha the tie was meant to go in the back- 

Aurora: oh my god. I literally have one job. Dress him, correctly. That's it.- 

Harris: it was a creative decision!- 

“What’re you giggling about over there?” Harry’s voice is muffled against the pillow. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Aurora leans over to Harry on the other side of the bed. She runs her hand over his shoulder and then presses a kiss to the bareskin of his back. Goosebumps rise all over his skin and Aurora tries to smooth them out with the warmth of her palm. 

Harry hums, “not really asleep, just like laying here with you like this.” 

“We’re not even cuddling,” Aurora says with an eye roll that Harry can’t see but definitely can hear in her voice. 

“Nah,” Harry’s voice is still low and grumbly from sleep, “just like knowing you’re right there, that in the early moments of the mornings, I get to be in the same space as you.” Aurora can’t fight the smile that tears at her mouth and Harry catches it as he rolls over to look at her. “Come ‘ere, though, I always like a good cuddle.” 

Harry wraps his arms around Aurora’s waist and hides his face into her neck. The feeling of his hot breath on her skin makes her giggle and try to pull away. Harry’s arms only tighten and his lips lazily graze against her neck. For a moment they get lost in the morning sunlight coming through the windows and how the heat of each other’s skins feels on one another. Harry doesn’t make any attempt to open his eyes for the day yet, he lets his hands wander over Aurora. 

“What were you giggling about anyways?” 

“Oh! It was Harris, they said they saw some photos of their design from the show last night, but guess what.” 

“What?”

“I dressed you in it backwards!” Harry’s mouth drops open dramatically. “The bow was meant to be in the back!” 

“Ohhhh that might explain the deep V then…” he trails off trying to hide a smile. 

“My only job is to make sure you’re dressed.”

“I was dressed…” 

“Not correctly!” Aurora fights back, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. 

“I think 1 miss in a 89 show tour is a pretty good track record.” 

“Ugh, I guess. The deep V was popular though,” Aurora says, looking at the bright side of the mistake.  

“So you did it on purpose?” Harry teases. 

“I did not!” Aurora squeals as Harry sneaks his arm between Aurora and the mattress to pull her into a tight squeeze. He teases his lips across her collar bone. And that jogs Aurora’s memory of the moments they shared in the dressing room before the show. 

Aurora’s dragging her finger lightly down the middle of Harry’s chest after tracing his collar bones. She stops at the butterfly and she feels Harry’s stomach twitch lightly and his hot breath fan across her face. Aurora gets carried away with the sight in front of her. From the sparkle reflecting in Harry’s eyes, to the build of his chest that is just expanding with every boxing session he does, Aurora can’t help but press a kiss to his sternum instead of tying the fabric that hangs from his collar. Harry sneaks his hands around her waist and pulls her closer. He lands his lips on her neck and then behind her ear. 

“Think you might have,” Harry teases again, pulling Aurora out of her flashback.

 Aurora brushes off the teasing and memories from the night before with a small shake of her head. She focuses on Harry in front of her and as if she couldn’t be more consumed by him, she takes in a deep breath and isn’t air she’s inhaling. It’s him. It’s always him. His scent, nothing too strong, no cologne just the lingering smell of his clean hair and faded minty breath. In between pressing her lips against his they both giggle, their legs getting tangled in the sheets. Aurora rolls the 2 of them over so Harry’s on his back. It’s a lazy and clumsy but neither of them care. She kisses down his neck and then across his collar bone like she did the night before. Her eyes linger along the tattoos that scatter his chest and shoulders. 

“Oh, sequins must’ve really bothered ya huh?” Aurora asks, pulling away. She glides her finger across Harry’s shoulder where a faint red rash is left. 

“Told you they were itchy!” 

“I’ve worn sequins more times than I can count, I won’t hear your complaints. Comes with the territory. If you wanna be a sparkly rockstar you gotta get used to it.” Aurora teases. Harry huffs at her. “I’ve been dealing with sequins since I was 3, I won’t sympathize with you.”

“Think one day you’ll show me some old dance videos?” Harry’s voice is soft. He’s over complaining about sequins, it’s a loosing battle anyways.

“My old recital tapes are all back home. So you won’t be seeing those anytime soon.” 

“Maybe when I come visit?” 

“Visit?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says as he traces a finger across Aurora’s cheek, “figured I’d come visit you in New York once tour is over.” 

“I don’t have an apartment yet.” 

“You’ll figure that out, but I’ll visit you at home home. Wanna see your hometown and maybe those old posters you had in your room.” Aurora groans when Harry teasingly squeezes her waist. 

“Those are long gone. Also a heads up, I still only have a twin bed in my room. Anyways, my parents will definitely make you stay in a separate room.” 

Harry barks a laugh, “will they really?” 

“Sure will.” 

“Well, sneaking around is fun.” 

“Shut up,” Aurora whispers as she blushes. “Would Anne make me stay in a separate room?” 

“She’s definitely tried it. Made Michael sleep in the guest room for the first year he and Gemma started dating. But I’m really good at persuading her to let me have my way when I’m home.” 

“I mean, those puppy dog eyes really do some damage,” Aurora compliments before pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “When are you planning to go back home?” 

Harry hums, thinking, “Probably stay in LA for a bit. Catch up with everyone here and sort some things out. Then make my way back to England. Settle back in and then visit mum and Gemma for a bit.” Aurora sighs. She really hasn’t given post tour details much thought. Aurora absentmindedly plays with a loose thread on the edge of the tshirt she’s wearing. She’s unsure how to bring it up, frankly, she doesn’t want to hash out the details because she knows the details will have very little Harry in them. “Alright?” Harry asks quietly and squeezes her hips lightly. 

“Yeah,” Aurora whispers. 

“C’mon,” Harry encourages. 

“It’s just, just,” Aurora sighs again. “It’s hard not knowing when we’ll see eachother once tour’s over.” 

“Remember I said I wouldn’t just leave you hanging at the end of tour. Honestly, don’t think I’ll be able to stay far from you for very long.”

“Think we’re a bit spoiled being with each other almost everyday.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees, “but, we’ll get to do other things once tour is over. I plan on taking a long break and going back to the studio when I feel like it. No due date for another album, I've got nothing but time.” 

“It’s just gonna be so different,” Aurora says softly, still thinking too much. “A bit scary to think about.

“Go get your planner,” Harry encourages. “Let’s block some time, won’t be so scary then.” Aurora quite literally scurries over to her bag after clumsily crawling off Harry. She misses the heat of Harry and her legs covered in goosebumps the second the air conditioned air hits them. “It’s always helped me to set some stuff up, doesn’t have to be fully planned or anything but having something to look forward to makes it better, I guess.” Aurora slides back under the covers and copies Harry, who is now sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. She smiles at Harry for a moment, taking in his messy curls, smooth tattooed skin apart from the rash along his shoulder. 

“Remind me to give you some cream for that,” she says with a small giggle as she taps her pen on his shoulder. “Have I told you about my family’s lakehouse?” Aurora asks when she opens her planner in her lap.

“A bit, yeah,” he recalls with a hum. He’s on his phone opening his calendar. 

“I really wanna take you there.” 

“I’d like that. When?”

Harry and Aurora spend the rest of the morning planning the next few months. 

Stay in LA for a few days after the final show. Harry in New York late August; lake house, hometown, apartment shopping etc. Aurora in England with Harry to visit Anne and Gemma. Thanksgiving in New York. New Years in London. And they can’t forget the unplanned things that’ll definitely happen when Aurora starts her new job and Harry gets back to his own work. 

And Harry was right, it isn’t so scary once they’ve gotten some trips written down. They’ve got lots to look forward to. 

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Five: The One with the Burnt Pancakes

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2516

    Coming out of a divorce unscathed was more uncommon than its counterpart. Typically, a bit of baggage attaches itself to one or both parties. No matter whether or not divorce rates are through the roof in today's modern era, it still hurt more than words could describe. Especially when it's due to an affair. It creates this sense of unworthiness, and as though you weren't good enough. And when the pair has a child, it makes it ten times more difficult. Knowing that you'll have to break it to the child that their parents will no longer be together, and that they will most likely spend more time with one in comparison to the other.

But, when your child already has a bit of distaste towards your partner, it can make the blow a little softer. Sure, every mother wants their child to have a relationship with their father, other mom, etc. Whatever the situation is, parents, want that. They want to be able to see their child's face when they see their ex-spouse, but sometimes, there's nothing you can do about it. Especially when your ex never put in the effort, to begin with.

Above all, your perception of love changes. and that's exactly what happened to Lily. She lost all belief in herself and didn't believe she could ever find someone who would love her, along with the baggage that she carried alongside her. And that broken heart that she has yet to mend, and honestly, she wasn't sure if she'd ever find someone who could help. To cup warm hands around the two halves and hold them together until they combined once again.

Other things she deemed impossible, was her sitting in a kitchen with the avengers. Earth’s mightiest heroes. The people that destroyed an entire army. travelled to space. Some even having been ripped out of time and thrown into different roles and periods. These people had stories people couldn't even dream of, lived lives people only wished to be able to experience. And here sat Lily, a single mother of an 11-year-old boy, who lived in a domestic area, and worked as a pediatrician. She was minuscule in comparison to the Gods and soldiers that sat around her.

"So, is Hunter’s father around?" a soft voice asked, an accent dripping from the words. It had pulled Lily out of her thoughts of astonishment, as she tried to wrap her head around what was currently happening.

"Hm? Oh, no," Lily spoke, her voice as soft as the gentle ripple of a pond, while she sipped the coffee they had given her. Glancing up, a few of the superheroes looked at her with inquisitive eyes, wondering where he may be, or if he even was to be anymore, "We uh, we divorced four years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the girl continued. Lily had placed her as Scarlet Witch, or Wanda Maximoff. Hunter adored her. He ranted and raved about how cool her abilities were and how she could probably take down an entire army by herself if she wanted to, "He's cute. I've always wanted kids."

Lily nodded along as the conversation continued around her. She stayed as silent as a sleeping lamb, her green eyes glancing around as she tapped her fingers against her coffee mug. She wasn't sure what they wanted her to say. It had been proven time and time again that Lily was the farthest from a talker. Deep inside of her mind, the little voice of self-doubt had convinced her that no one cared about what she had to say. That the only reason people even spoke to her, to begin with, was because it was polite. But she's also been told that the world around her found that shy demeanour endearing, and mysterious. As if she held secrets behind those sealed lips when in reality, Lily was scared that if she spoke, she'd create secrets. Letting the world in on the pain she hid, that she kept locked away in a vault deep within her mind. protecting herself from being destroyed again.

"...So if you ever need a babysitter," Wanda’s voice sang again, yanking Lily away from her deeper thoughts once again, as though the two were tethered. the young blonde's attention perked up as the young girl continued speaking, "I'm your girl."

Was the Scarlet Witch, offering to babysit Lily's eleven-year-old? As in, seriously? Like to pick him up or come down from upstate New York to deliberately take care of him? If it weren't for the fact Lily rarely left the house, and if she did, it was with Hunter, she may have considered the idea. But Lily wasn't one to go out. The noise that came along with the idea of partying or going out on the town always got Lily's heart beating at a much too fast pace. If she was going out, it was to gen's cafe, or with three glasses of wine down and a whole bottle to go. The world was loud and intimidating, and could easily crush Lily's fragile heart and mind with a simple touch. And where would that lead her? Nowhere good, that's where.

"Oh that's sweet, but I don't typically go out, and when I do, he comes with," Lily stated, lips forming a tight smile as she ran her finger along the circular hole atop her mug.

"Really? A girl that's as beautiful as you must get tons of guys and go out on dates. and I see no ring on that finger," the infamous Tony Stark teased while shifting his weight to look at the blonde, "unless there's already a lucky fella."

A laugh of almost disbelief escaped through Lily's full lips as if the idea of Tony Stark calling her beautiful was too good to be true, "Oh no. my best friend tries but I don't date. Already have my hands full with work and Hunter."

"Where do you work?" Steve's voice now chimed in, pushing off the counter he leaned on as Bucky worked away, staying silent. He hadn't spoken a word to Lily since Steve walked her through the threshold of the kitchen, merely a gruff hi before returning to the feverish work he was doing on the pancakes. It was as though he was trying to make them perfect.

"I'm a pediatrician at Mount Sinai Kravis Children's Hospital down in Manhattan," Lily answered, her eyes averting from looking at any of the intimidating people around her. Why were they so interested in her? Why did they seriously care so much about her personal life? She just brought Hunter here for a tour, not an interrogation...was this what people did? Like...they wanted to learn more about her? It didn't make sense, she was pretty basic. There was nothing special to her, Lily thought.

"Oh, that's awesome. I have a few-"

"SHIT!"

The large outburst caused everybody to immediately turn their attention to where it came from. Behind the counter, Bucky was waving smoke away from his face that seemed to be billowing from the pan on the stove. He burnt the pancakes. Lily felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips as she watched him throw a towel at the counter, his face turning a crisp shade of red, like a cherry. The moment his eyes landed on her though, his entire body lit up in a hue of pink it seemed. He grew flustered, biting down on this ever so soft lips he had. Lily was only human, she couldn't help but avert her eyes down to the thin layer of skin. And as if on cue, Wanda let her voice ring through the kitchen.

"Damn it, Barnes! I told you not to cook, and you decide to challenge your abilities in front of our guest?" The ginger exclaimed while standing from her chair, going to help the built man clean his mess.

A few of the others in the room whined, and Lily guessed they had been waiting for a bit to eat. She felt a twang of guilt deep within her, as though it was her fault. But it really wasn't, she wasn't the one making the pancakes. no, she was merely answering the personal questions they all seemed to have for her, as well as constantly glancing at the hall or behind her to see if Hunter was on his way back. Instead, he was now outside with Sam, looking at all of the different artifacts and things that weren't able to be kept inside of the compound.

"You much of a chef, Lily?" James Rhodes (Warmachine, she reminded herself), asked. No matter the amount of mental effort it took, Lily couldn't help but allow the tinge of rose to decorate her full cheeks. They seemed to want to get to know her, and she felt almost...accepted? No, maybe more so welcomed, by these beings of immense power and ability. She allowed her shoulders to relax, and her grip on her mug lessened.

"Nothing impressive, but I do know my way around a kitchen," she responded, tilting her head to the side, causing her blonde locks to dance across her shoulder, "Most nights, I try to make homemade meals for Hunt and I. It's important for a child's development." she finished but noticed how all of their eyes were glued to her. Raising her left eyebrow ever so gently, she let a giggle escape from her throat, "but sometimes I give in and order pizza."

"You should help Bucky out, he's never been the best cook. Got used to boiling everything in the forties, so he makes a mean hot dog," Steve teased, sauntering over in all of his Captain America excellence, "Anything else? Completely lost on him."

"It's a good skill to have. But difficult to master, I suppose." Lily shrugged, crossing her legs over one another as she rested her elbow on the glass table, cupping her chin as she sipped the hot liquid in her cup. She couldn't seem, however, to take her eyes off of the culprit of the burnt pancake smell. The way the muscles in his neck rippled whenever he clenched his jaw. How his metal arm glinted as a small stream of light entered through a window, creating a bright reflection. How his scruff along his chiselled chin seemed to be a bit overgrown underneath.

Her mind began to wander momentarily, a gentle and soft vision dancing itself into her brain. Him sitting on a chair in her bathroom, Lily sitting comfortably on his lap, facing him. His eyes sleepy and his hair unkempt. Her skilled and nimble hand resting on the side of his face as she trimmed underneath his jaw, getting those areas he seemed to miss. His lips parted as he seemed to slowly drift off again, as though Lily's gentle hands were willing him to...

A hand waving in front of her face snatched Lily out of her odd fantasy land. She cleared her throat and looked around her, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, as though she had been paying attention to the whole conversation she just missed. Holding her lips inside of her mouth, Lily shifted once again in her seat, attempting to play it cool as the blush that had formed on her cheeks seemed to grow rapidly.

"Sorry, could you repeat what you said?" she asked, her voice weak as her eyes shifted to look at the man behind the counter once again. She couldn't help it...he was beautiful.

"I said you should help Buck out making the pancakes. Most of us haven't eaten, and if you're as good as you say, maybe you can help." Steve grinned, a knowing glint in his sky blue eyes. The way he looked at Lily, as though he could see inside of her head, sent a shiver down her spine. The idea of anyone knowing where her mind just wandered was basically mortifying for her. Being such a conservative person, the idea of that getting out? Yeah, no.

"Oh no I shouldn't...I'm positive he's capable of making pancakes." Lily chuckled, her voice cracking halfway through. This caught everyone's interest, and Lily had to hide her face with her mug as the dark liquid slid its way down her throat.

"He isn't. We don't normally let him in the kitchen. C'mon Lily, show us whatcha got." Steve continued to pry, leaning back in his chair as the others encouraged the entire idea.

Lily's head turned back to where Bucky stood, an almost pleading yet bashful look gracing his perfectly sculpted features. Just the way his eyes seemed to call out for her, was enough to allow the eldest Osborne to give in to the peer pressure of her new acquaintances. That was something Lily believed to be impossible, being friends with these heroes. These people that laid their life on the ground multiple times, saving her and her son by protecting the world around them. She was in debt to this group, everybody was. They've kept them protected for countless years. But how would one even begin to thank them?

"Okay okay, I'll do it," Lily mumbled, finishing her drink before pushing herself out of the chair that probably cost the same amount as her dog. She pulled a hair tie from her wrist and securing the blonde locks at the nape of her neck as she gracefully floated towards the kitchen. Glancing around, she couldn't help but let out a laugh at how expensive the items around her were. Sure, she didn't live in a house with run-down appliances, but these were top-of-the-line, high-end, see-on Food Channel things. A far reach from Lily's budget, "Well, first of all, Bucky, you need to turn on the fan."

After preparing everything to ensure not only safety but also to optimize space and time, Lily turned towards the man she had just moments ago daydreamed of. For a moment, she found herself lost in those steel-blue eyes he had. As though he had captured the moon and made them his own, adding a tinge of the blue from the sky above. How with every flicker across her face, a story was told. The pain and suffering he had endured etched into the dips and creases of his face, especially around those beautiful orbs. A part of her wished that the other members of the group were gone and that she could grip the sides of his face and kiss those lips he kept licking. His tongue darting out to wet them, creating a slight chapped ring around the pink layer of skin.

"Hey if you two are done gazing into the eyes of each other and looking like Hollister models, the rest of us are hungry." Starks’s voice rang, snapping Lily out of the trance the ex-soldier had put her under for a few seconds.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, coke can," Bucky muttered while turning his gaze away from Lily's and focused on washing the blueberries, "I'm just cleaning fruit."

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: recovering from injury, possessive behaviour    AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 6: Haze

You woke to the sensation of someone running their fingers through your hair. Slowly opening your eyes; it must have been the afternoon. You don’t remember going to bed. You started to whimper; your leg hurt so much. Why did it hurt? What happened while you wandered the halls? “Shh shh my love, it’s alright, you’ll be better soon,” cooed the voice. You looked up, confused, why was Michael here? “M- Michael, why are you here a day early? Did something happen?” you questioned. As you tried to get up, the pain in your leg shot through you, bringing tears to your eyes. He gently pushed you back down, wiping the tears. “It’s Friday my dear,” he stated. “What do you mean its Friday? I went for a walk on Monday. And why does my leg hurt?” the questions just spilled out of you. Michael lay next to you, holding your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb. Just feeling the warmth again calmed you down a little. “I arrived on Wednesday,” he started. “Mrs Mead found you in the servants’ hallway on Monday night. You had collapsed from your fever and set fire to your night gown in the process. The fire was put out, but …” he hesitated. “your leg has been burnt a little.” A wave of nausea hit you. You finally looked down to your leg, it was wrapped in gauze. As you looked you felt the pain get worse, finally acknowledging your injury. “The shock and the fever combined had you out cold for a few days. You did wake occasionally, albeit you were a little delirious.” “H-How bad is it?” you asked. “second degree nearer to your foot, first up to your thigh. Mrs Mead had put you out very quickly. The physician is due to visit today to check the progress, to see if it’ll scar or not,” he explained. You started to cry. From the pain, from the fever, from the turn your fate seemed to have taken since you married this man. Why had the universe been so cruel to you? Who had you wronged? Had you done something in your past life and was this your punishment? He pulled you into his chest, warm arms enveloping you. He stroked his fingers through your forehead, letting you sob into him wholeheartedly. “I want to se my m-mother,” you cried. “Oh little dove, I was already on my way back before any letters could reach me. You know I would have brought her with me if I could, I’d give you the moon if u asked.” You cried until you tired out, but the pain was still unbearable. You just wanted to be held and to sleep. “No sleeping for you Mrs Langdon, you need to eat something before you put your head down again,” Michael stated. As if on que, Mrs Mead came in with a tray of food. A hearty soup and some bread, the same as before. “Dinner time seems to be the crying hour for you,” she joked. You pressed you face further into Michaels chest, embarrassed at her observation. She set the tray down and left, leaving just you and your husband. He rearranged the pillows so you could sit up comfortably and brought you meal over. As you reached for your soup, he slapped your hand away. “You’re sick, I’ll help you.” “Michael, my leg is burnt, not my hands,” you stated. “That is of no concern to me, now say ‘ahh’,” he replied, holding the spoon up to you. You hesitated and looked away before opening your mouth. You knew he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He fed you the rest of the meal; time flew as you asked about his trip, wanting to take your mind off the pain. //// You had fallen asleep again by the time the doctor had arrived. Woken by a cold press on your forehead, your fever had returned. “Good afternoon Lady Langdon, its nice to see you finally awake. I’m Dr Montgomery and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he introduced. You could only nod in reply, the pain making you unable to speak. “I’ve already checked your leg; Medina has changed the dressing. I suggest bed rest until next week. The wound will take a few weeks to fully heal; you’re extremely lucky, the wound isn’t too deep so scarring will be minimal,” he finished. “Will it still hurt?” you asked. “Your pain should reduce in a few days, however your fever is making it feel worse, so I have prescribed some Laudanum. All I can suggest for your illness is rest, and that too shall pass.” “Why am I sick?” you asked again. Dr Montgomery sighed, “It isn’t uncommon in new brides. Especially moving from the south to the north. It’s a sort of homesickness. The faster you get accustomed to the temperature and new surroundings, the better.” Something deep in your gut told you that he was lying, your sickness was caused by something else. And what about your nightmares? What could explain those? A simple fever could not be the culprit. But you kept your mouth shut, this man was not to be trusted. He left you alone with Medina, and you drifted off again. //// The laudanum was helping with the pain, but the constant daze it kept you in frustrated you. Michael had moved his office into your room for now to keep an eye on you; you had tried to leave the room far too many times to leave you unattended. The rustling of paper and the scratch of the pen remined you that you were being watched. Despite that, you still tried to get out of bed. “How many times do you have to be put back in bed?” you heard from the other side of the room. His tone was stern. “I’m getting sick of staying in bed all day,” you slurred out. Michael sighed and walked over to you. He lifted you and carried you over to his desk, sitting down and placing you in his lap. “There, now you’re not in bed.” You couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed. He adjusted you so the pair of you were comfortable. The scratching of the pen starting again. “what are you doing,” you asked. “I’m finalising plans for a trip.” “You’re leaving again?” “I’m taking you with me. Once your leg is healed enough, we’ll be going to Paris,” he smiled at you. Paris. How you hated the sound of that city. Your brother’s stories echoing through your head, the anger breaking through the haze of the medication. “I don’t want to go.” “Why not, it’ll be our honeymoon and it truly is a beautiful city, quite romantic at night.” You answered before you could stop yourself, “of course you’d know all about the city at night.” Michael stopped writing, putting his pen down and inhaling. “And what do you mean by that hmm?” “Nothing,” you replied, you could feel the rage building inside him. He grabbed your face, making you look up at him. “Answer me properly. What are you talking about?” “My brother spoke about your grand tour,” you mumbled. His nostrils flared and his grip on your jaw tightened enough to bruise. The drugs only allowed you the feel the pressure and not the pain that would have come with such a tight grip. You winced anyway. “Gabriel needs his tongue cut out it seems.” “Sho itsh all true then?” you tried to get out, he was still squishing your cheeks. He finally let go of your face. Pushing your hair from your face and stroking your jaw instead. “I am a changed man Y/N. I was a different person two years ago. I was young and unmarried. I’d be a fool to betray you in such a way,” he sighed. “I’d kill you if your ever did,” you smiled at him, the Laudanum seemed to have removed all filters, making you say what was on your mind. You lightly pecked his lips, settling into his chest for another nap. //// You had been given the clear for your bandages to come off, and your fever had gone. You decided to have a bath while you were alone for the first time in almost two weeks. The water was a little cooler than you would have liked it to be, but you didn’t want to agitate your burns. You tried to relax, thinking about the past few weeks of your life. You had been married almost a month now. There was a sense of foreboding before you walked down the aisle that day; every single event since has just made it worse. The nightmares, Michael’s volatile attitude, the painting and now being scarred for life; it all weighed heavy on you. You think that you might be driven insane, or maybe even killed. You didn’t know. would you even last the year? The painting. You had forgotten about it in all the commotion. It had scared you enough to almost die. Why was Michael’s mothers face painted over? Did he want to forget her? Your thoughts stopped in their tracks as the feeling of being watched overwhelmed you. Just like the first night you were here. You got out of the tub, carefully drying yourself off before heading to the dressing room. //// The dressing room was cold as usual, making goose bumps rise all over your skin. You caught a glimpse of your scar in the mirror, moving your robe aside to get a closer look. It started just above your ankle, all the way up to your outer hip. You let your robe hang loosely around your shoulders, as you untied it to inspect the top of the scar. The skin there was sensitive, it felt different to the healthy skin around it. It made you a little self-conscious. No one would ever see it, but you would always know it was there, a reminder of the fear you let overcome you, of your fragile state of mind. You felt weak, so far from the girl you used to be. Your reputation in the local area of your home was one of an intelligent and brave girl, a tongue so sharp that even the priest had banned you from attending church on occasions. But here you were now, pathetic, letting your dreams out of all things, control your actions. “it seems that Aphrodite herself has blessed me with her presence today.” You quickly went to retie your robe and cover your leg, but Michael stopped you before you could. He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. His hair was damp, and he donned a robe; he must have had a bath too. His pulled your robe aside, exposing you leg to him. You wished he would never see it. “Don’t you see what I see? Does the mirror not show you the form that occupies my mind?” he asked, as he trailed his fingers over your scar, you almost wept at the tenderness of his touch. He let go of your waist, moving in front of you before he knelt down. “Michael! What are you doing? Get up from there please!” you cried out. This man, who many saw as a god, had knelt before you. He looked at you with a hunger and devotion seen in the faces of the worshippers in temples of the ancient world. He paid no mind to your distress. Instead moving to kiss your scar. He started at your ankle, looking up at you as he made his way up, leaving no part untouched. He stopped briefly to pull the stool behind you, making you sit down. Without a word, he started working his way up to the inside of your thighs, alternating between kisses and little bites. His actions ignited a fire in your belly. Making you shift around to alleviate some of the tension you were feeling. He stopped and rested his cheek on your thigh, you ran your fingers through his now dry hair. “There’s a hunger in me that only you can satiate,” he whispered. He pried your thighs apart, looking directly at your wet folds. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to let me starve, now would you?” He ran his fingers through your wetness, making you moan and grip his hair. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you towards his face. You had to hold the edge of the stool to stop yourself from falling back. He licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation was so foreign to you, but you wanted more. He licked and sucked on your lips and clit, like a man truly starved. You felt his groans vibrating through you, bringing you closer to the edge. “M- Michael, that feels so good,” you moaned out. You could feel him smirk as you gripped his hair tighter, lightly scratching his scalp in appreciation. He dove in further, his nose pressed against you as he fucked you with his tongue. He felt you begin to tighten around him and moved up to suck on your clit, he looked you in the eyes as he brought you over the edge, licking you through your aftershocks. Both of you were breathing heavily as he finally pulled away, looking up at you with your juices covering the bottom half of his face. He got up and pulled you into a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on him. “You taste divine.” You could see his hardness through his robe. You averted your gaze, “can I return the favour? “My my, my little dove has gotten bolder hmm?” moving to make eye contact with you. “Some other time, I do not want to agitate the burn and I need to be inside you.” He pulled you from the stool, sitting down, before seating you on his lap to face the mirror. “I need you to see what I see,” he said, as he untied his robe, bringing out his dick and running it over the wetness of your folds. You mewled and tried not to look in the mirror. “Look at us as I push into you,” he ordered, “look at your greedy pussy swallowing me whole.” He pushed into you, making you watch as he did so, the sight making you wetter than before. He bottomed out with a groan and sat still. He brought your hand over your stomach, pressing it down. “Can you feel me inside you? I’m so deep.” You pressed further and made him hiss. He gripped your hips, lifting you up and down, you matched your pace with his. The pair of you mesmerised by the sight of the image in the mirror, the sight of him splitting you in half. You turned to kiss him, your tongues dancing as you picked up the pace. Neither of you lasted long, you were already sensitive from before; he was (you hoped) pent up from all those days away. The coil finally snapped, you squeezed around him with cries of his name. He followed behind, painting your insides with his seed. He pulled out and you both watched as your mixed fluids seeped out of you. “Look at yourself, you must be a goddess,” Michael stated. You looked at your fucked-out form in the mirror, lips swollen from kisses, hair mussed, and skin covered in a sheen of sweat from the exertion. In the haze of pleasure, you could almost mistake yourself for a carnal version of Botticelli’s ‘Venus’. You smiled at the thought. “We’ll need to bathe again,” you pointed out, making you and Michael laugh. //// You had your second bath of the day together. Getting ready for the evening; dinner would be served in your room as you needed to sleep early; you left for Paris tomorrow. Michael had brushed and braided your hair, and you had done the same for him. As you waited for MRs Mead to bring your meal, Michael had brought out a box, one that you had recognised. “Your mother sent this for you, your embroidery seems to be quite well known in the area and she was surprised you forgot to pack your materials.” Michael handed you the box. It was your grandmothers, then your mothers, and now it was yours. How had you forgotten your most prized possession? “Thank you so much Michael,” you hugged him. “It’s a family heirloom,” you explained, opening the compartments. You floss and needles were just as you left them. Michael reclined next to you, watching you inspect the item. “I’m sure it’ll continue to be passed down generations of Langdons,” he said. You blushed at the thought of children, you hadn’t given it much thought before. “I’ll take you to the finest cloth merchants Paris has to offer to get more materials for your liking,” he smiled at you. “I’m sure Mrs Venebale will know some locally?” “Nonsense. Why go to Paris if not to take full advantage of what the city has to offer? We can also see what the new seasons fashions are.” You raised your eyebrow, “I see, this tip is for you to dress yourself isn’t it?” “Well my love, the wardrobe does not curate itself. Personal shopping trips are must in high society,” he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head, thinking about your next project, trying to calm your nerves for the trip.

Next>>>

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Care Taker ~ J.M.

A/n: Ah yes, the boy. Here’s that request anon.

Request: “...could I request a jack Morton x male reader where he’s the kind of guy that takes care of everyone and doesn’t care about himself but jack is like I’ll take care of you.” by anon

Word Count: 4800+

Masterlist

"Hey hey hey," Y/n soothed, his smile soft but nothing compared to the tone of voice. The girl's eyes found his and he gave a small smile to show he was friendly, as much as possible. "You okay?" All he had done was walk into the room and she had started flailing and panicking. "I didn't mean to startle you, I was just looking for a place to hide. It's loud outside."

She swallowed. "I- I'm okay."

Well that was bullshit. He nodded as if he believed her anyway. "Okay. Can I help you stand up?" She hesitated then nodded. He kept his hands where she could see them as he approached her before offering a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. "What's your name?" He asked after she stabilized once in her feet.

"Um, Mirane. My friends call me Rain."

"Well would you prefer me to call you that?" She hesitated before nodding. "Okay Rain. Do you need help getting home?" She shook her head, but when he rose an eyebrow she sighed before nodding. "Do you have any friends that you came with."

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Okay." He hesitated to leave the room. He'd gone to a stupid party that his roommate had bugged him about hours before he caved, and it had been overwhelming for his anxiety as usual. Too many people. Too much noise. Too much chaos. It was dangerous, and all his red flags were clouding every other thought. Thankfully he'd been here he thought though. Now he could help this girl. "Come on let's try and find them." They did just that. They searched for about twenty minutes before Rain finally found her friends. Y/n didn't know what she said to them, but it was out of ear shot of him and they seemed to nod in understanding, heading for home instantly. He waved as they went, parting ways.

Paying attention to see the group until they were outside of side to see them safely as far as they'd let him, he wasn't looking to who was moving around him. He figured he could trust people to watch where they were going if he was standing still, at the very least. Perhaps it was foolish, considering how drunk everyone here was. The end result was that someone rammed into his back so hard he almost face planted off of the porch. At least he caught himself on the banister. He flipped around, eyes landing on a blonde boy about his age. "Are you okay?" He asked, trying to keep his own fear out of his voice. People don't usually run into you for no reason, especially that hard. Had he been pushed? Was he THAT drunk?

The boy seemed surprise. "I... yeah. Are you?"

Y/n nodded, chuckling shakily. "You sure gave me a scare though."

"Sorry," The boy apologized, his neck turning red, spreading up his face as he cringed sheepishly. "I was kind of arguing with my friend and-" Y/n's eyes slid from him to the slightly taller boy behind him, who had dark curly hair and a huge smile on his face. It wasn't the face of someone who had shoved his friend angrily into someone else. There wasn't that shyness or dodging Y/n's look or even any shame. This lead Y/n to believe they were either dating and he was abusive, or the blonde in front of him was lying. With how the dark haired boy seemed to blend into the crowd rather than command attention, Y/n was pretty sure it was the latter.

"I bet," he said slowly. A smile was tugging at his lips. When his eyes returned to the blonde, he noticed the line of his jaw and the light in his light colored eyes. Of course he's just noticing how attractive the boy is now of all times. Good going, Y/n. "Well, stay safe." He nodded in a  sort of fair well and went to turn away to leave.

The boy caught his arm. He seemed to let go immediately, as if worried Y/n would be mad at him for doing it, but he wasn't. He just turned back to see what the other wanted. "I'm Jack," he rushed, stepping closer. Y/n swallowed, stepping back awkwardly. "I- You didn't say your name."

Despite the awkwardness slipping around under his skin, Y/n managed a smile. "Uh, Y/n." He held his hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you, Jack."

Jack shook it. "Nice to meet you too."

There was a pause before they dropped hands. Jack kept staring at Y/n in a way that made the boy shift. "I... have to go. There's nothing else for me here, so-" He left it open ended in case Jack wanted to change that. He seemed interested, at least.

"Yeah for sure." Y/n internally sighed, his shoulders dropping a little in disappointment. "Well, see you around."

"See you around." Then he really did leave Jack there, standing on the porch looking after him and feeling like a total idiot.

-

The second Y/n heard someone scream, he was running. He had been on a little late night walk to clear his head but he definitely wasn't now.

His quick speed got him onto the scene just in time to see a woman on the ground. She seemed sort of familiar, but her skin was burning away so it was hard to make out anything too much past the immediate urge to throw up. Y/n froze mid step, almost tripping and falling. He caught movement in the corner of his vision that made him look up and lock eyes with the only other person immediately around. The man had been looking at the burning woman too, but his face was twisted by a victorious smile. Obviously the perpetrator. Y/n ran to the woman and then gasped as her eyes found him. The fire had gone out and.... was she still alive? He kneeled down. "Miss?" His brain raced with some way to help her. Some way to make her passing easier. No way would she make it- he could see her bone.

And then suddenly he saw less bone. And less. Like the skin was... very slowly healing itself. Not human slow, but more like someone creating a mud sculpture over the top of a skeleton. Like it was in some sort of fast play heal session... and yet it still seemed to move so slowly, even though it was impossibly fast. Even though he could SEE it.

"HEY!" Y/n looked up to see the man who had attacked the woman next to him approaching. "You see what she's doing?" Y/n nodded wordlessly. "That's magic." Y/n looked back at her and then at him. She couldn't stop healing to hide from me, but she was trying to crawl away now. "Would you like to know more?"

If... that was magic. No, it had to be magic. What else could it be? She was burnt to a crisp- he had SEEN her on fire, and now she was hyper healing like it was nothing. She was saving her own life. How many people could he save with a power like that? How much of a difference could he make? "No." The words were cracked and raw and Y/n jumped back from the woman on the ground, reaching a desperate hand out to him. No?

"You're using magic," Y/n accused. "What do you mean no?"

"She wants to keep her magic for herself," the man explained. Now that he was closer Y/n had the distinct feeling of familiarity, like maybe they'd run into each other before, or at least seen each other from afar. Y/n couldn't place when or where that might have happened though. "She's part of a huge hidden society of magic users, and they keep it all to themselves and don't share it with anyone. They're selfish, and inconsiderate. My people- we use our magic to help others."

Well, that sounded good to Y/n. "Teach me."

-

"Y/n." The boy looked over to see Salvador approaching him. He smiled and she returned it, her hand guiding his eyes from her to another woman walking at her side. The unnamed girl had short blonde hair, and blue eyes warring between look of determination and hesitation. "We have a new member. Meet Alyssa Drake."

Y/n quirked an eyebrow. "You got to my school."

That seemed to take her back. "I do?"

"Yeah," Y/n confirmed. "We had like a ton of class together, and you lead the tour I was apart of at the beginning of the year. You were kind of distracted by..." He fought to remember a name or face. He shrugged, letting her know he couldn't come up with one. She seemed amused at the memory. "Anyway, I'm not surprised you don't remember me."

She held her hand and they shook. "Nice to meet you." Y/n smiled wider.

His eyes drifted back to Salvador though. "We've had plenty of members and you haven't introduced them yourself to me before. What's up?"

The woman chuckled. "Ever perceptive and straight forward," she praised. Y/n shrugged, but he was obviously proud. "Alyssa is from the Order." Y/n's smile wavered and then dropped and suddenly he couldn't look over at her. "She isn't anymore- she's here to be one of us. She's seen the truth of our ways. I brought her to you because I know you had a lot of questions about them, and since Alyssa just came from it all herself, I thought you should hear from someone who would know."

Finally his gaze slid back over to Alyssa, slow and skeptical. She took the expression in full force, chest puffed and ready for a fight. Not necessarily because Y/n would argue with her and she would have to defend them, but because she seemed plenty ready to tear down the organization. It was the only thing Y/n needed to know really... but he wanted confirmation. "Are they really that bad?"

"They are," she answered immediately. "They're selfish and manipulative- every single one of them. They only care about themselves. My-" She cut off, swallowing. "My girlfriend disappeared recently, and... there hasn't been much of an effort or a care in the world to get her back." She looked upset so Y/n stepped forward, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Alyssa let a breath go, accepting the comfort. "It's fine. I'm going to find her myself."

Y/n nodded, then hesitated before asking, "What was she like?"

That seemed to pull a smile back out of the blonde. "She's annoying." They both laughed. "No, that was a joke. She's... kind of closed off, for the most part. Defensive and hesitant to put herself into a situation where she's vulnerable. We... we were actually together a while ago, but then the Order kicked her out and erased her memories."

Y/n jerked. "They erased her memories?"

"And then they did it to her again recently. We actually met through a..." she paused, searching for a word. "Mutual friend." The way she said it made it sound like this person was less a friend and more a tag along, or just someone that kind of annoyed her. "We reconnected and I thought we were finally hitting it off, but then they made me wipe her memory again." Her face seemed twisted with pain. "If I didn't, they would have kicked me out and made me forget everything too. Magic. Her. And they would have killed her." She winced. "I had to watch her fall for someone else for six months. Thankfully Nicole is really cool and kept coming to me for advice on how to get her to back off because I know her best and she wanted to make it clear that she respected my feelings." She chuckled. "The funny this is, with Lilith flirting with her, they fell for each other. And then with her continued consideration for how I felt despite how she felt, we fell for each other too? And now we're kind of all dating and-" she cut off, just as she was reaching what seemed to be her favorite part of the story. "She got her memories back and we all worked it out. But, uh, she kind of got pulled into Hell."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Y/n whispered softly.

Alyssa shook her head. "She's not dead. Just in the literal demon dimension. We're trying to get her back."

"Oh." Y/n's eyes widened and Alyssa chuckled.

"Yeah it was kind of crazy. It's complicated, but it seemed the best course of action was to leave the Order, and the only way I could do that was to join Praxis. Salvador protected my memory when they tried to take my memories away. I'm lucky I ran into her."

This seemed to be hard for Y/n. "And Nicole?"

That wiped Alyssa's smile all the way. "She's looking for Lilith her way, I'm looking mine. One of us will figure it out." Responding to Y/n's unasked question, she added, "I can't sacrifice myself for my girlfriend. Nicole wouldn't want me to. Maybe what I'm doing is wrong to her, but I can't work with people who only work for themselves. And their misguided followers," she added, seeming to be thinking of her girlfriends.

Y/n nodded. "I understand." Alyssa shot her an appreciative glance. Y/n stepped forward, his hand resting on her arm. "If you need any help looking for her, let me know. I'm new to magic but I'l do whatever I can to reunite you guys."

"Thank you." She seemed to be bursting with happiness and it made Y/n's heart swell.

"Anytime."

-

"Alyssa."

Y/n turned, his eyebrows coming together. "I think you're mistaken."

And there, to Y/n's surprise, stood Jack. The same boy from the party, except now his hair was brown. Jack seemed just as surprised. "Oh I'm sorry I thought you were someone else."

"You thought I was a girl?" Y/n asked. He was the kind of person you didn't make that mistake with. He wasn't just a guy, but he liked to think he at least had the body type to look like one too.

Jack chuckled awkwardly. "I- she gets the same pizza." He flinched.

It was then that something clicked in Y/n's mind. With his hair brown, Y/n could place his face in that tour what seemed ages ago but could only have been a little over a year. He thought about the face Alyssa had made when he mentioned the incident, and how she had seemed to mirror that half amusement half annoyance when she mentioned the mutual friend who had reunited her with Lilith. She never named him, but every time she mentioned that friend, she had the same look and Y/n had long since tied them together as the same person. But if that person was Jack, then that meant... "You're in the Order."

He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but he knew he did when Jack's face went slack, his lips parting and his eyes widening. Y/n panicked, grabbing the pizza Alyssa had asked him to get for her so she wouldn't be caught and then trying to run away. Jack wasn't letting that slide though. "Wait!" He caught Y/n's arm, pulling him to a stop. "How do you know about-" Then understanding dawned on his face too and his eyes fell to the pizza in Y/n's hands. "It's for her, isn't it?" Y/n hesitated before nodding. "You're apart of Praxis?" It was accusing, mixed with shock and hurt.

Y/n ripped away, feeling his own angers rise. "You're part of the Order?" He shot back.

Jack scoffed. "You don't know what mess you're getting yourself into."

"I'm not an idiot," Y/n snapped back. "I've heard what Salvador has to say about you people and your-"

"Salvador doesn't know anything about the Order," Jack snapped, defending them immediately. "There have been a lot of mistakes made, but most people have good intentions. It's just that no one takes the time to really understand others and what's happening. They keep too many secrets and jump to too many conclusions."

"There aren't any secrets in Praxis," Y/n pointed out proudly. "We all now what everyone's intention is, and we use our powers to help others rather than walk over everyone for self gain."

Jack looked like Y/n had slapped him. "You have no idea what we're like."

"Is that so?" Y/n demanded, stepping closer. "Because Alyssa sure had a lot of stories to share."

That seemed to shut Jack up for a second. Y/n didn't bolt the moment he had the upper hand though. He stood there and waited for Jack to explain, and the brunette really appreciated that. Thus far every single problem had boiled down to trust issues and miscommunications, so the willingness to truly understand and hear everyone out that Y/n was displaying was a relief. Maybe Jack could save him, if he couldn't do the same for Alyssa. "That's only Alyssa's side of the story. Have they told you about the sacrifices you need to make when you do magic?"

"Yes," Y/n answered immediately. "We teach the importance as much as you do. We use magic to help others, not to help ourselves and let others take the consequences like you and Gabrielle did."

Jack flinched. "I didn't know about sacrifices back then," he defended. Y/n nodded, relaxing. He seemed relieved and Jack felt himself get excited by the fact he was listening and internalizing everything Jack said. He trusted Jack. "Not everyone does them. Have you seen the explosions and the way its warping people?" Y/n swallowed and they both knew he knew exactly what Jack was talking about. "Praxis is going to get people killed."

"But people of the Order do the same," Y/n pointed out. Jack went to argue but then remembered the memory of Gabrielle Y/n had just dug up again. He hesitated and Y/n took his chance while he was down. "What's so different between us?"

That answer was easy for him. "We know what we're doing. We have much more experienced mages and werewolves to keep those mages in check." Y/n rose an eyebrow and Jack sighed. "We're new to this. The wolves. I- We didn't know it was out job until a few days ago. Honestly we're trying our best."

It was Y/n's turn to sigh. "You wouldn't even be talking to me about this if Praxis hadn't told me about magic. We never would have been friends then either. Then, you chose to ignore me, and now I chose to ignore you." He stepped around Jack, and the brunette didn't stop him. Y/n paused though. "Last time I saw you, you had brunette hair."

"It's a long story," Jack shrugged. "I'm naturally a brunette. I dyed it back again."

Y/n considered that. "Do you like it?"

Jack turned and they locked eyes. The pizza was to Y/n's side instead of between them, and where Y/n had paused in passing Jack had left the two boys rather close together for just strangers running into each other in a pizzaria, which is what they were. "Then I'm glad you dyed it back." Jack actually smiled, a small little thing that seemed to be struggling to stick under the pressure of his other negative emotions. Y/n stepped closer, his hand resting on Jack's shoulder. "I just want to help people, Jack. I want to heal people, like I have been, and make lives easier. Isn't that what magic should be for?"

"You want to protect people," Jack voiced. Y/n nodded, earnestly trying to get him to understand. "But you're putting them in danger with the way you guys do magic. Haven't you been asking anything about the Tartarus Blasts?" Y/n hesitated and Jack rose an eyebrow. "Or have they just not been telling you?"

"We don't keep secrets in Praxis," Y/n answered immediately. "They told us what they are."

Jack stepped forward. "Then you have to understand how dangerous this is. Not just for you, but for all of your friends and the people you're trying to help. I know you want to save everyone Y/n, but you can't. Sometimes you're going to fail. I just want to protect you from that. Even if you weren't part of the Order before, you could be now. We need more good people to help the few of us already in here have more power. More numbers. We could make a difference with your help. Let me protect you, Y/n."

They were extremely close. Maybe an inch between their bodies. Y.n swallowed. "Why would you care about me?" His words seemed to stun both of them out of whatever weird feeling in the air that had been pullng them closer this entire time. Y/n stepped away and Jack's face fell. "You don't even know me." His face hardened. "What you realized I have some kind of crush on you and are using it to manipulate me to do what you want?"

Jack seemed stunned. "You-?"

"Shut up," Y/n snapped. "Alyssa was right. You guys are selfish." And then he turned and booked it out, and Jack watched after him with shock and confusion. How had this conversation suddenly gone so wrong?

-

"She's... dead?" Y/n's voice was small, matching the shattered look on Alyssa's face. "Alyssa... I know you were closer to her than anyone. I'm sorry."

Alyssa solidified, her face setting with anger and determination. "She wouldn't want us to wallow. She would want us to hold our heads high and continue the mission until it's finished. We have a spell to complete, and a wolf fur to find the new owner of." Something seemed to dawn on her. "Maybe this is what I was meant to do. I was meant to be the leader of Praxis. Alpha."

Y/n gave a small smile. "I hope so. You deserve it."

"Come with me to try it out?" She asked him. He nodded and they moved to the back of where they were now, where they kept the third of the Order's things that were most important. Like the last pelt locker, which was all that was left after Alyssa had been convinced to give the others back in an effort to help Lilith return. Now Y/n and her stood in front of Alpha's locker, hands hovering over the lid.

It opened. Alyssa stood tall as it turned on its side, ready for the fur to engulf her and make her stronger. A real leader.

The locker turned to Y/n.

The boy's eyes widened and he screamed as something thick and furry wrapped around him until he was being suffocated with darkness. He woke up in the woods outside of the school, naked and covered in blood.

WHOSE BLOOD WAS HE COVERED IN?

"Y/n?" He looked over, scared until he saw Alyssa. Her shoulders sagged in relief upon seeing him. She came over, offering a shirt and shorts. He took them gratefully. It was awkward and quiet and he quickly dressed and then she lead him back to what he assumed was her car. "I'm not mad it chose you." Instantly Y/n let out a breath he'd been holding. She smiled. "I think it's fitting. Just like the Order but better. A magician in charge, and a werewolf by her side to back her up when it's needed. Y/n grinned back. "We're going to do great things together Y/n." She turned to him. "After we get home and you get cleaned up, we're coming back and getting that spell. Are you ready?"

Standing as tall as he could, Y/n nodded solidly. "Anywhere you lead, I'll follow."

Her expression shone with pride. "We're going to change the world. I know it."

-

"The spell does WHAT?" Y/n snapped.

"Shut up," Alyssa snarled back. Y/n's face scrunched together in confusion and anger and he stepped away from the blonde who he'd considered his best friend until a second ago.

"Lys we can't do this." She spun on him, face twisted with betrayal. "This is going to hurt so many people. You want to trade cutting your palm a few times for magic cancer? Seriously?"

Alyssa seemed to actually consider for a moment. Then she shook her head. "This is what we've been aiming for since the beginning. This is what Salvador wanted. This is what she was working for up until the second of her death. What she died for."

Y/n stepped back again. "This is wrong, Alyssa. This is going to hurt people. Do you think Lilith would approve of this?"

"LILITH IS GONE!" Alyssa screamed, storming over to get in Y/n's face. "She's been in the Demon Realm. I couldn't get to her no matter how hard I tried. She's dead, Y/n!"

The door burst open just then, slamming closed again as none other than Jack Morton raced to the pair with an earnest expression on his face. "Lilith's back." The room stopped for a second.

Y/n grabbed Alyssa by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "Let this die, Alyssa. End the Apocalypse Blast and go to her. Your girlfriends are waiting for you. After everything that's kept you apart, let this not be one of them." Something in the girl's face changed. She stiffly moved to Vera's side, casting the spell and killing the Blast. Vera looked at Y/n with awe. He shrugged in response. "Kindness is always the better answer."

Just then Alyssa seemed to snap out of it and she turned to the door, jogging. Her face was alight with life and excitement and joy. She was finally going to see Lilith again. Nicole, who she missed just as much. But when those doors opened, a blockage stood in her way that would hold her back from her happy ending. A wolf, huge and daunting, with teeth barred and claws out. Claws that ripped in her throat as it grabbed her, yanked her back and forth a few times, then threw her out of sight.

The scream that left Y/n's mouth was animalistic. The wolf - Midnight - looked at the man who was bonded to Alpha and cowered. Y/n hadn't even wolfed out yet but Midnight turned tail and ran like he was facing his worst nightmare. An angry Alpha. Even Jack flinched back, taking a few steps and clearing the way for Y/n to race toward the door and outside. But he didn't run after Midnight. He made his way to Alyssa's side, his eyes watering and his heart breaking.

She dies in his arms, Vera, Jack, and even Y/n helpless to do anything to save her.

Vera pulled the body away from Y/n, with help from Jack to pulled the boy to his chest, hiding him from the dead blonde. Jack and Alyssa had long since broke off their budding friendship after they'd almost died with the Sons of Prometheus. She had come back different, pulling even further away from him and then was gone altogether. They'd been good friends for a while though. A lot like she and Y/n were now. After she'd turned him down and gotten with Lilith, they'd become best friends. That had been lost, but if anyone knew how Y/n felt it was Jack. They'd both had to watch her die and do nothing to stop it.

For the first time in Y/n's life, not even magic could save the one person he cared about the most.

"I couldn't help her," he sobbed into Jack's chest.

Jack held tighter. "I know. We can't save everyone every time, Y/n. It's not your fault. Magic makes us stronger, but not matter how solid a wall something will always find a way to knock it down. Sand is going to fall between the cracks of your fingers. It's not your fault." It was actually something Y/n had told Alyssa. Something Alyssa had then relayed to Jack in return.

Y/n recognized his own words and began to cry. "What's the point if I can't save everyone?"

"You protect those who matter." They stayed quiet while Y/n grieved, letting his tears fall and his body shake in the protective embrace of Jack Morton's arms. When he calmed, Jack caught his chin, pulling their gazes to see each other. "You can't save everyone, but you can save lots of other people. You've already done so much Y/n. And it's only up from here. Join us. Let us teach you the true powerful potential of magic. I'll be right there the whole time."

"Why do you care?" Y/n asked softly.

Jack touched their foreheads, both of their eyes closing. "Because at some point, I formed a little crush on you too. And now you matter to me, and there's nothing either of us can do about it. You want to protect people, I get it. But you're putting yourself in danger to do so and it's had me stressed out for you since I realized you were apart of Praxis. Please Y/n. Just... let me protect YOU."

Y/n was quiet for a long time. Then he buried his head in the crook of Jack's neck. "Okay." The boy smelled good and he was warm. It was something Y/n could get lost in. He thought about the night they'd first met and the seconds they'd shared since then. Little moments that meant so much for no reason. Little moments that had showed them the kindness in each other. The little moments that had delivered exactly what the other needed to develop feelings. And now here they were, trying to piece together the nonsense of the world they were apart of.

At least they had each other.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Sorry for no story today- have these WIPs I will probably never finish instead

Kitty get punched

“Where is Joan?” A crew member hissed, looking frantically around the stage and wings. “She should be here by now! The show starts in five minutes!”

“I saw her earlier,” Maggie said. “So she’s here, at least.”

“But WHERE?” The crew member said, exasperated. Maggie shrugged helplessly.

“Maybe she’s getting changed?” Parr offered.

“She should have done that a long time ago,” Aragon reprimanded.

“And when does Joan ever get ready late?” Anne added, tittering slightly.

“I’ll go find her!” Katherine piped up, “Don’t worry!”

With that, she bounds off to find the music director.

—

Joan was paler than the moon, a somewhat sickly color painting her skin. Her checks were kissed with a slightly pink flush, spreading to her forehead as well. Underneath her eyes and against her pale skin, were dark rings. They hung under her eyes like curtains, pulling her eyelids so they could close. The color contrasted with her skin, making it more vibrant and more noticeable. Anyone could have guessed it; Joan Meutas did not sleep well last night. Now that, was an understatement.

Joan had not slept well in the past week. She was constantly up late at night working on this damned show that was wringing her dry. She was completely exhausted. She felt like a dead fish. Her entire body ached from her head to her toes. The only thing that seemed to keep her going was coffee, and it’s now come to the point that she’ll feel sick if she doesn’t drink any.

The show only increased Joan’s stress level. Everyone always seemed to need her; the queens, the techies, the costume crew, the managers- the demands for her aid or work was never ending. By the time she finished whatever was asked of her, it was time to perform, meaning she had to do her own music director work later in the evening, usually well into the night.

It was just hell. Literal hell.

At that moment, she could feel a headache starting to become apparent. It burned her vision, floating around and flashing like a neon light, tormenting Joan. It only grew worse at the loud clamor of the crew getting ready. And through the blurred and temporary blinding aura, she saw her coffee. It looked revolting to her.

Just the sight churned Joan’s stomach. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She was so tired, and her headache was so bad. The chance of getting a sensory overload became more and more likely, which wouldn't be completely crazy, especially since she was so tired she could hardly think practically.

Approaching footsteps sounded like drumbeats pounding in Joan’s ears and the creak of the door nearly imploded her eardrums.

“Joan?”

Great. It was Katherine Howard.

Joan, too tired to reply, huffed in annoyance and buried her face further into her arms. She’s hunched over the desk in her dressing room with only half of her costume on, since she had given up trying to put it on. As Katherine stepped into the room and approached, she tried to ignore the throbbing in her head head, and the dizziness and nausea settling in, as well as the queen.

“Joan,” Katherine nudged Joan’s shoulder, earning a low hiss of warning. “What are you doing? We got a show.”

“I’m not going out today.” Joan grumbled, not lifting her head.

“You have to,” Katherine continued.

“Oh, but that one time you had a panic attack and didn’t go on was fine?” Joan snapped, getting angry. She lifted her head and glared at the young queen.

“There was an alt here,” Katherine defended herself, “Plus, a panic attack is different than...whatever is making you refuse to go on.”

Joan is grinding her teeth, now. Katherine is either too stupid to notice or ignores the warning sign and continues on anyway.

“I’m not going on.” Joan said again.

“Your dep isn’t here.” Katherine reprimanded.

“I’m not going on, Katherine!” Joan yelled, finally rearing up with a slam of her hands against the desk. The way Katherine flinches back a little is satisfying. “Get out.”

“Joan-“

“I said get out!”

A horrible crunch filled the room, followed by a sharp yelp. Katherine’s hands fly up to her face, while Joan’s fist returns to her side. Blood is pouring out in between the queen’s fingers.

“Leave me alone.” Joan whispered, taking deep breaths to quell her anger.

Katherine doesn’t budge, too shocked to move.

That only fuels Joan’s rage, which she gives up on taming.

“Leave me alone, you bitch!” Joan yelled, shoving the queen. Blood drops splatter to the ground, but she could care less. She just keeps pushing and kicking until Katherine stumbles out the door, to which she promptly slams shut. She can head soft crying coming from the hallway, but she just rolls her eyes and slumped back at her desk.

———

Tour!Howard is Tour!Bessie’s biological mom AU

The day started out perfect- Silver rays of morning sun were slipping through soft pink curtains, bathing the bedroom with warm beams. They hit Howard’s face, which has a smile painted on it, even in her rest. The grin only grows once she woke up- she was beaming. And for good reason, too.

She leapt out of bed, but quickly quieted her steps so she wouldn’t make too much noise. She greets the two cats in her room- Sombra and Hermès. She had a hunch where the third feline, Turtle, was.

On sock-padded feet, Howard made her way across the flat and to the second bedroom. She peeked inside and smiled brightly.

There, laying in the bed, was a young girl, barely thirteen, with bleached white hair.

It had been Howard’s idea to do DNA testing. Bessie agreed. Howard had been sipping her coffee, checking through her mail, when she found the document that stated the results came back positive. Tears dripped down onto the paper. Her mug shatters against the floor.

She found her daughter.

Bessie was equally shocked when the news was given to her. She had went very still, eyes bulging, mouth slightly ajar. Just as Howard started to worry that she was repulsed by the turnabout, she leapt right into the woman’s arms, sobbing in bliss.

———

i don’t even know, something with Joan being jealous

February was Kitty’s month. Like how (whenever she died) was Aragon’s month and (whenever she died) was Jane’s month. Whatever month a queen died in was their month, apparently. That unspoken rule didn’t go to the ladies in waiting, even if they could remember the exact month they died in. They weren’t deemed as “important” as the queens to get such a thing. Maybe they could get a week, or a week at the very least, but nothing more.

So, yes, February was Kitty’s month. The different thing about her month than the others was that EVERYONE doted on her. She got tons of gifts, tons of sweet words, tons of hugs and affection and attention. Tons of attention from Jane.

Before you start griping, yes, Joan knew why it was this way. Henry made a law just to chop her head off- yes she KNOWS, she hears about it almost every day, she KNOW SHE KNOWS. You don’t have to bring it up because she’s well aware. Everyone knows about poor, poor Kitty and her horrible life.

And, yes, it was horrible. Joan knows that she will never be able to relate her pain to Kitty’s pain, but, damnit all, is it so bad to want a fraction of what she gets from it?

Kitty got everything. Every-fucking-thing. And whatever may be left were mere scraps upon the ground, fragments of what Joan used to have.

———

Courtney!Anne comforts Joan

Stagedoor was an unpredictable thing. It wasn’t all hugs and compliments and pictures- sometimes there’s a fickle critic or an angry historian that’s mad about the portrayal in the show. Other times there’s the slightly weird, but charming fans who recite facts about the queens, hoping to impress them. But a slushy being thrown into someone’s face? That was new.

Anne only caught a glimpse of it- one moment all was normal; she had just finished taking a picture with a beaming young fan, and then there was an uproar of mocking laughter and several gasps, accompanied by loud splattering sounds. Anne looked to the side and was shocked to see SIX’s music director soaked in a coating of red, blue, and purple slush.

Joan was stiff and still, as if the cold beverage had frozen her. The colorful residue slides into the creases of her horrified expression, which slowly become more and more humiliated as seconds ticked by. Then, her wide eyes glance around wildly for a moment and she sprints back into the theater.

———

Wings of Fire AU

The worst part of Parr’s day was approaching- closing the library. She always hated leaving the peaceful, serene cavern at the end of each evening, but Aragon insisted she slept in an actual cave. Arguing against this proved to be fruitless- the queen just had an aura to her that was impossible to beat in a bickering match, so she retired to her room each night.

Sighing, Parr rolled up the current scroll she was working on, cleaned the ink from her talons, and swooped down from her writing ledge. She walked down the aisle of polished mahogany shelves, observing each one to make sure everything was in place and not burnt (there were some younger dragonets weaving in and out earlier that day- she never trusted them with the scrolls).

———

Zombie Apocalypse AU

You get used to the smell. Rot, decay, organs, blood, death- you get used to the scent of the end of the world real fast. If you don’t, it may just drive you insane. More insane than seeing the actual cause of the odor, maybe. Some people react to things differently. But one thing everybody has in common is that nobody gets used to killing. Nobody gets used to sacrificing others, nobody gets used to putting their loved ones or even strangers down.

Nobody gets used to the damn Walkers.

But it’s the way it is. The apocalypse doesn’t seem like it’ll be having curtain call anytime soon, so you have to make do. Learn how to shoot, find a group, get shelter, don’t go hungry- those are the basics. Or just put a bullet in your brain and don’t even bother with survival. In the end, it’s your choice.

Sometimes Joan considers shooting herself in the head. The will to live is still kicking within her, but it gets hard. Being alone doesn’t help, either.

Well-

Scratch that. She wasn’t alone. She had some company.

“Hey, will you cool it?” Joan snapped, tugging on the rope that was around her newest Walker’s neck. She found this one wandering on its own in the woods and decided it would have to do- one quick slash of her knife removed the rotting bottom jaw and rendered the thing useless. At least when it came to infecting others. Its scent will keep away lurkers. Hopefully.

[winterisakillerwrites]

Wanderlust

Title: Wanderlust

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Callie Williams (OFC)

Genre: romance/angst

Rating: Mature

Summary: He’d known since the beginning she had never wanted the things his life brought, and it had played a very crucial role into why things had fallen apart. Since then he’d taken it as gospel that her opinions hadn’t changed. She’d never said, never hinted at wanting more…But now…Now he found himself wondering if maybe she had done so and he’d simply been too wrapped in himself to see.

Authors Notes/Warnings: This is a follow-up/sequel to Old Flames. I started this shortly after I posted the original story and it took awhile to get these idiots to tell me just what was going to happen. And this is the end result. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do.

She is truly stunning. The thought stole its way across Tom’s mind as he watched her sleep beside him; peaceful and content. There was something about her that had captured him right from the beginning. He’d known she’d felt it too; he’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in the way she touched him, in every glance. And even now, years later, he couldn’t deny that she still held such sway over him.

It didn’t matter how much time had passed or how infrequently they saw one another; Callie was always in his thoughts. He thought of her whenever something made him laugh and he knew it would amuse her as well. She was the first person he wanted to call when he found a role that challenged him or when he gotten whatever part he’d been dying for. She was also the first one he wanted to talk to when something had gone terribly wrong and he needed a friendly voice. Callie was the one person whose voice he longed to hear on good days and especially on bad. But something had always stayed his hand; always made him hold back. He could barely begin to count the number of times he’d started to dial her number only to hang up at the last moment.  

It was hopeless, really. Tom had known it from the start. They had always been in such different places in their lives, had lived to very different worlds. He lived for his work; for the ability to travel, to try on new characters and challenges and to push himself as far as he dared. Sitting in one place for too long brought on an anxiety he couldn’t quite put into words. There was so much to see, so much to do, and so very, very little time in which to do so. How could he risk turning down a role when there was no guarantee he would get the chance to try it again? How could he say no to a promotional tour or meeting when the opportunity may not ever reoccur?

Callie, on the other hand, had loved the consistency and steadfastness of her life. She’d worked hard to get where she was; worked harder still to keep herself the best she could possibly be and, as such, enjoyed the comfort and security of knowing who and what she was and just what she’d wanted out of her life. Callie valued her own time and to simply just be. She was content to sit for hours reading in her worn leather chair by the window in her cozy living room and had done so as often as possible. She didn’t need the glitz and the glamour Tom had always seemed so at home in. His world didn’t make sense to her; it had never held any appeal for her.

It was one of the many things he cherished about her. He was simply Tom with her. No demands, no mask, just himself. And he’d loved that. Loved her. Not just in the physical sense, though he could not deny that the physicality between them had always been electric, but all of her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she cared about those who mattered to her and those she barely knew. The quiet strength and resolve she possessed no matter the challenges she faced. She never ceased to amaze him for simply being who she was.

And if he were to be honest with himself, he could admit she was everything he’d ever really wanted. They clicked in a way he’d had with anyone before or after. But they were too different; lived in two vastly different worlds. Their lives hadn’t and would never mesh in any way which would work. He knew it. And he knew she did too. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to. And he did. Desperately.

That was one of the many reasons he’d found himself here, again, tangled up in his bed with her. Why he let himself open to her when he knew there was very little chance of an actual future between then. It always happened. He’d fought it at first, knowing that giving in would only make the hurt worse in the end. But it had all been in vain. He couldn’t fight the electricity nor the bond between them. And, in all honesty, he hadn’t wanted to. He couldn’t have her, not in the way he’d longed for; he knew it all too well. So this, these stolen moments, would have to do. But they wouldn’t last. They couldn’t. Eventually, and he feared it would be sooner rather than later, they would have to part. For good. And that hurt more than he let himself think on. The idea of never again holding her in his arms, of never seeing her smile or hearing her laugh, burnt him to the core. But he couldn’t seem to see any other way.

Callie turned in her sleep, the sheet that had been pulled over her shoulder slipped revealing a full, round breast and the smooth curve of her shoulder. She snuggled closer against Tom’s side, the warmth of her skin against his sent shivers down his spine. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful, in sleep and he was torn between wanting to simply watch her do so and the desire to wake her and have her at least once more before reality pulled them apart again.  

It had barely been a month since he’d seen her in the club, her head thrown back and eyes closed as she moved in time with the pulsing music. Seeing here there, just a handful of feet away from him, had thrown Tom; though, in all honesty, it shouldn’t have. London was only so big and he’d always known that seeing her was inevitable. But still, he hadn’t been able to believe his eyes at first. It had been so long; with his work and travel it had been months since he’d been in one place longer than a few days that wasn’t strictly for work. And even longer since he’d been home for any set length of time. Yet, there she was. He hadn’t let himself think about the consequences of his actions then; he’d simply gone to her. He’d needed her in a way he hadn’t needed anyone else.

And it had been wonderful; the feel of her skin against his, her breathy moans in his ear, the weight of her against him, above him. He’d woken the morning after in her bed, watching her as she watched him from the doorway. He’d wanted to tell her then how beautiful she was to him; just how much he had missed her, how badly he wanted her in his life, in his bed, always. But that would shatter the fragile thing between them. It would break the unspoken rule of whatever this was they were doing. So he’d said nothing and let himself walk out of her life once again. It was funny, really, how he was the one who always seemed to walk away. He’d never let himself think on it; wouldn’t let himself acknowledge it. But it didn’t make it any less true. He hadn’t been able to stay away though, had sought her after; needing to be near her, to pretend just for a little while longer that this could work. That she’d wanted it to work just as badly as he did. Just for a little while

Tom shifted in the bed, running a hand over the rough stubble on his chin. He hadn’t shaved in several days and it clearly showed. Callie stirred beside him, rolling tighter against him, her leg slipping between his and her head resting against his bare chest. He could feel the stiff peak of her nipple against his skin and bit back a groan at the sensation.

He wanted her; he’d always wanted her. That had never been the problem. Or, well, he mused, maybe it is. They had clicked so perfectly in the physical sense; she’d caught his eye from the moment he’d first seen her and he’d wanted her then more than he’d thought possible. But that had only been the start of it. Now…now it was so much more. And he knew deep in the marrow of himself that it wouldn’t be enough. The wanting her. The loving her. Not when she hadn’t wanted the spotlight that being with him would place on her.

His life, the demands it placed on him, it left little if any time for something real. And dragging Callie into it only to hurt her…He wasn’t sure he could live with it. Wasn’t sure he wanted her to live with it. With knowing he would be gone more often than not; knowing that she couldn’t be his biggest priority. Knowing there would be times when he would have to choose between time with her and his career and that his career would most likely need to win. And then the lack of privacy. He knew his fan base, had seen them tear into the lives of women he dated in the past…And ones he’d barely known, just for the simple fact he was seen with them. It was something he wanted to save her from if he could. Knowing it wasn’t what she had wanted. Knowing that he couldn’t walk away from his life, not when he’d worked so hard for all he’d achieved, not when he would end up resenting her for it if he did. And she would resent him for dragging her into it all. She’d been clear that the idea of a spotlight on her life scared her; that she wasn’t sure it was something she could handle, that she wanted to handle.

And knowing that meant there was only one option left and the thought of it crushed him. He would have to leave…for good this time. No turning back, no second thoughts. Pulling her back into his life, even this private part of it, would be the height of cruelty for them both. Not when he couldn’t give her what they both wanted; a life together; safe and private and theirs. But the very thought of walking away made his blood run cold. He was a coward of the worst sort and he knew it. Putting this off, pretending this wasn’t just a temporary respite in the chaos of his life. That this didn’t have to end. He wished he were stronger. Wished he could keep her, keep this. And knowing all the same he couldn’t.

“Stop thinking so hard,” her sleep laced voice grumbled from against his side. “Your making my head hurt.”

Tom laughed despite himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching down to brush her hair from her eyes. “How did you sleep?” He tried to keep his voice light and airy but he could see his efforts fell woefully short. He could see the knowledge of it in her eyes. Callie always seems to be able to see straight through him. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“You don’t have to do this, Tom.” Her voice was quiet and far too even. He watched as she pushed herself up and away from him, clutching the sheet to her chest. Covering herself from his gaze just as she distanced herself from him emotionally.

He wanted to scream, to beg her not to walk away. It was stupid and selfish, he knew it. But the desire was overwhelming all the same. “No, please…” Without conscious thought, his hand reached out to grasp at hers, holding her still. “I don’t….Callie…”

She let out a soft, resigned sigh, “We both know how this ends, Tom. You trying to sugar coat the fact you’re leaving and not coming back doesn’t make it any better. For once just fucking be honest with me. With yourself.”

The words, though calmly spoken, cut him deeply. He was a coward, he’d known that. But to have that thrown, however matter of fact, in his face stung. “Callie...This is...What are we doing?”

Her dark eyes locked on his, “I used to hope....” She trailed off, pulling her hand out of his grasp and climbed fully off of the bed. “I know what I want Tom. And I think you do as well. But I don’t think you know what you want and until you do...I don’t think I can do this,” she gesticulated wildly between them, “anymore.”

She was dressed and out the door before he could force himself to utter another word.

Tom sat dumbfounded on the bed, trying desperately to figure out just what had happened. He let out a string of curses, hitting his balled fist on the mattress. He should have run after her. Why hadn’t he just run after her? He should never have let her leave in the first place. Not with things so uncertain between them. Not when her words hinted that maybe, just maybe he’d read the situation all wrong. But it was too late now. She was gone.

He rested his head in is upturned hands and let out a sigh. God, he was a fucking idiot. How had he let things get so far out of hand? He cursed again, knowing it wouldn’t help. A small part of him, one he fought steadfast to ignore, wondered if maybe it wasn’t better this way. Simply letting her go and letting things end. Doing nothing. But the larger part of him screamed that if he let himself just do nothing then he would be nothing more than the coward she’d called him in all but name.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he cursed under his breath, rubbing his free hand over his face. “Tom, you utter, utter wanker.”

Callie had made a very good point; he’d allowed himself to be drawn into whatever it was between them without considering what he truly wanted…Or, well, without allowing himself to either accept the hard work involved in what he wanted or to acknowledge he wasn’t ready and simply walk away. Instead he kept letting the same thing happen, refusing to see the toll it was taking on them both. But knowing that internally and then having it spoken aloud were two vastly different things and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Wasn’t sure just what to do.

He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet and pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms he’d left hanging on the back of his chair near the window the night before. He checked the impulse to call her and beg her to come back. That would surely cause more problems that it would solve. He needed to get himself straight before he risked making things worse between him and Callie. Though I’m not sure how much worse it could be, he thought with wryly. And he hadn’t wanted to find out.

As it stood, Callie probably had little desire to see him again let alone speak with him. And he couldn’t really blame her. What he had done was the height of selfishness, even if it hadn’t ever been his intention to be so. If he approached her without really knowing if it was because he wanted to rather than because he felt he should…Tom was well aware he could so easily lose her for good. That was something he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

Coffee, he decided with a cool certainty, I need coffee. Coffee and a fucking miracle. While it brewed he would have time to think, really think, and then be able to come to what he feared, and knew with a grim certainty, would be quite difficult decisions. His footsteps echoed softly on the stairs as he made his way down to the lower level and towards the kitchen.

Sunlight poured in from the front windows, bathing the hallway and kitchen in bright, warm light. He pattered towards the cupboard above the sink, pulling a tin of ground dark roast coffee from the uppermost shelf and placing it onto the counter before the coffee press his younger sister had given him as a house warming gift years ago. Turning, he grabbed a mug from a nearby cabinet, a light blue one he’d had for ages with a chip on one side of its rim, and set it beside the tin of coffee. He made quick work of setting water to boil in a kettle by the stove and placing several scoops of coffee into the bottom of the press, allowing his mind to wander as he did so.

One thing he knew with certainty was Callie had become infinitely important to him. These moments he had with her were little life lines in the chaos his life inherently was. And he’d used it, selfishly, knowing but not really allowing himself to think on the fact there were more than just his feelings involved. It was equally clear to him that Callie cared about him, that she had for a long while now. He’d known since the beginning she had never wanted the things his life brought, and it had played a very crucial role into why things had fallen apart.

Since then he’d taken it as gospel that her opinions hadn’t changed. She’d never said, never hinted at wanting more…But now…Now he found himself wondering if maybe she had done so and he’d simply been too wrapped in himself to see. That thought pulled him up short. Judging from her reaction, he feared that might very well have been the case. Had he really been so blind? So wrapped up in what he wanted, that he missed the change in her? A bitter laugh fell from his lips. No wonder she’d been so cold, so defeated.

Tom rubbed his face with his hands once again. God, this was a mess. He’d been so certain before she’d woken, so damn certain that walking away was the only real path left for them. That his flitting in and out of her life, sharing her bed for these brief sojourns, was only causing them both unnecessary and avoidable pain. But now…Now when it was abundantly clear that she herself intended to sever their tenuis connection if he couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted between them, the idea filled him with dread. The reality of never seeing her again, never holding her, never being able being able to just simply be with her again, shook him to his core.

The faint whistle of the kettle pulled Tom reluctantly back into reality. Tea towel in hand, he removed the kettle and poured the steaming water into the opened press. Tom stood, watching as the coffee steeped, his mind replaying the look on her face just before she’d grabbed her clothing and gone. It was a knife to the heart; her resigned heartache. The pained and weary acceptance that sat in her eyes, had been painted across her face. And he hadn’t stopped her. Hadn’t done all in his power to get her to stay and talk. He really was a coward after all.

Once satisfied with the strength, Tom worked the plunger with the smooth fluidity of years of practice and soon the strong scent of hot, fresh coffee filled the small, brightly lit kitchen. He poured himself a cup and, once it was doctored to his liking, headed into the living room. He let himself settle on the couch, propping his feet on the edge of the wooden coffee table.

The house was unnaturally quiet. It was something he used to revel in. Things in his life were so rarely quiet these days and he’d learned to take his solace in whatever silence could be found. But now…Now it felt oppressive. He shook his head and took a sip of his steaming coffee. He hissed as it burned his tongue. It was still too hot for consumption but he desperately needed the caffeine. Tom forced another sip before placing the mug onto the side table. He scrubbed his face with his opened hand before leaning his head back. This was a mess, pure and simple.

No matter what he chose, it would be an uphill battle. Between wanting to protect her privacy and his own, being with her would provide complication…And truly walking away and never coming back, that was unbearable. No matter what he chose, it would hurt them both. But staying and trying to fight to make something work between them…He knew with startling clarity that he’d wanted it more than he could find words for. It wouldn’t be easy but then again nothing in life worth having ever really was. And, truthfully, he’d never been one for the easier path. If he was mistaken though…If they tried this and she couldn’t handle it…Didn’t want to handle it…

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm. If they tried and she couldn’t or didn’t want to handle what his life would entail…Then he would do his best to carry on. Things in life were never guaranteed, Tom knew that better than most. He’d had plenty of relationships fall apart, lost people he’d believed would always be there. It had hurt but he’d survived it. And logically, he knew if things between him and Callie fell apart he would desperately hurt but his world would not end. But understanding did little to stifle the feeling of panic. God, he was overthinking this.

Tom reached for his coffee mug and took another sip, cringing as the cold coffee poured into his mouth. How long had he been sitting there? Annoyed, he pushed himself to his feet and padded back into the kitchen and placed the mug in the microwave. Forty seconds would do the trick. As he watched the mug spin lazily around, Tom once again allowed his mind to wander.

What he wanted was simple. He wanted her. Wanted her in his life, not just his bed. Wanted to know she would be waiting for him when he came back from his travels. Wanted her to come with him whenever she could. But what she wanted, he wasn’t completely certain. He thought he’d known before and he’d apparently been completely mistaken. And if it was mistaken again…

They would need to talk, really talk. And then he would have to take whatever came of such a conversation, be it good or ill, and make the best of it. But would she be willing to talk with him? If she wouldn’t…He took another deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. There was only one way to find out.

Tom took the stairs two at a time, quickly making his way into the bedroom. His mobile was sitting on the bedside table, connected to its charging cord. He unplugged and unlocked it in short order, scrolling through his contact list until he found her name. No time like the present…

He hit ‘dial’ and held his breath as the phone rang.

And rang.

Tom fought to ignore the knot in his stomach. She might not be home yet (though if his watch was to be believed it was nearing eleven. When she’d left it had been going on eight and she hadn’t lived too far). Or she’s choosing to ignore you, his mind helpfully chimed in.

He very nearly dropped the phone when the line finally clicked and Callie’s voice echoed in his ear. “What, Tom?”

He swallowed thickly before forcing himself to speak. And once he did the words came tumbling out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to and I understand that. But we do need to talk, Callie. I need to tell you things and I think there are things you need to tell me.”

The line was quiet and for a moment Tom feared she’d simply hung up on him. “I don’t…” She paused and he heard her take a deep breath. “Somewhere neutral. If we do this, we need to go somewhere neutral for both of us.”

“Yes,” he answered, understanding the logic of her request. Both his place and hers held far too many memories which would make this so much harder than it needed to be. “Um…There is a coffee shop a few streets over. They are pretty quiet and out of the way….We shouldn’t be bothered there.” Tom cursed the circumstances of his life for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. If he were just any other bloke they wouldn’t have to worry about being overheard and having their conversation splashed across the front page of a tabloid as ‘entertainment’. They could meet and be free to honestly talk this out….And if he’d been just any other bloke then most likely none of this would be happening.

Tom ran a hand through his hair as he awaited her response; feeling the knots in his stomach tighten with alarming force.

“Okay,” she finally whispered. “Give me the address.”

Twenty minutes later found Tom sitting in one of the high backed booths in the back corner of the shop. His double espresso steamed gently before him, mostly untouched, and he found himself fighting the urge to jump and stare every time the front door bell chimed the entrance of another customer. Part of him feared she wouldn’t show. That she had decided to wash her hands of him once and for all. The idea stung but he knew she had every right to do just such a thing. To simply walk away…  

His attention snapped back to the present as the door chimed again. Callie had changed and showered since he’d seen her last, her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she now wore an oversized green jumper and dark leggings. She looked comfortable but wary. Her smile was small and did not quite reach her eyes. “Hiya,” she greeted him before sliding into the other side of the booth.

“Would you care for…?” Tom gestured vaguely at his own cup.

Callie shook her head. “I’m good, thank you.” She folded her hands and placed them before her on the table. “You wanted to talk.” It was a statement, not question, and Tom found himself taken off guard by it.

He nodded, masking his unease with a sip of his espresso. “You were right.” Her eyes snapped up to his face, their brown depths echoing confusion and concern in equal measure. “This…What we are doing…It’s not working.”

Callie forced a nod. “It’s not.”

Tom started to reach for her hand, caught himself, and placed his own hands on the table. “You told me that you don’t believe that I know what I want and that it’s not fair to either of us…And in a way you were right.” He paused and took another sip. “I want you…And not just for a night or two…I want this…Us, to be something, but I thought…With what being with me entails…I believed you didn’t want any part of that…So I was selfish and I took what I could get…And I am sorry.”

She leaned back against the padded cushion of the booth. “And?” He could read the caution and doubt painted across her features as clearly as if she’d spoken them aloud.

Her doubt and uncertainty shouldn’t have surprised him. After all he’d not been the most forthright person in this endeavor. And she’d been left waiting and wanting far too many times to take his words at face value. But it stung all the same. “I made the mistake of assuming I knew what you wanted…That you wouldn’t want more because of who I am and what that would mean. And that was wrong of me. I should have asked you outright instead of believing that you hadn’t changed your mind. And that is on me.” He took a deep breath. “But all the same I wish you had said something. Told me explicitly what you wanted. I can’t read your mind, Callie. I can’t know what you’re thinking. I’m sorry I’ve caused you pain, but I didn’t know…Not really.”

Callie bristled slightly but nodded. “I should have and I own that. But to be completely honest I wasn’t sure how…Or if it was something you would have been willing to hear.”

It was Tom’s turn to bristle though he could not blame her for thinking as she had. He’d flitted in and out of her life without so much as a promise. How could she think anything but that? “Fair enough,” he murmured. He covered his unease once again with sip of his espresso. “We haven’t been clear with each other and that’s led us here.” He paused again, raising his head to hers. “But we can do better than this. I want us to be better. This…You and me, I want us to be more than just a few stolen nights. I want you in my life in a permanent way. I want us to be truly together.”

“So do I.”

The smile that spread across Tom’s face was exquisite. This was going far better than he’d dared hope it would. She wanted this, wanted him too. “Then let’s do this. Really do this, you and I.” He reached across the table, taking her hands in his own and squeezing them gently. His smile fell as he caught the look of hopeful doubt in her eyes.

“They are wonderful words, Tom. And I want to believe them.” Callie offered a small, sad smile, pulling her hands back from his. “But how do I know that once we leave here and you go back to your life that you won’t just disappear again?”

“Because I won’t. I can’t.” Tom leaned across the table and took her hand again, imploring her to believe him. “Not again. I cannot let you walk out of my life simply because I chose the coward’s way out. I want this,” he squeezed her hand, “with you. I want to…take you to the cinema. To the theatre. I want to walk hand in hand with you in the park. And all those silly, small things people take for granted. I want that…All of it, with you.”

“I want that too, Tom. Believe me I do…I just…I need more than words. Can you understand that? This…If I do this…If we do this, I need to know for sure that you are in this. Really in this. I can’t…I can’t open myself up like this without knowing there is something solid…Something real there. I need more than words.”

Tom nodded, squeezing her hand. He hated her doubt, her lack of faith in his word. But he could understand it. “You need to be certain that I am substance, not air.” Callie nodded. He smiled softly, “I can understand that….I…” He paused, looking down briefly in thought before raising his eyes back to Callie’s dark brown ones. “There is a premiere I’ve been invited to…In Leicester Square next week…Would you come with me? As my date?”

Callie shot him an incredulous look. “Tom…I…I’ve never...” Her hands gesticulated wildly, both disbelief and uncertainty coloring her tone. “I don’t have a dress…”

Tom shook his head, raising his hand to place a finger over her lips to cease her rambling. “Please. I want you to come with me….I’ll handle everything; dress, make-up, hair, transport…Just say yes. Please.”

He watched the indecision play across her face and hoped with all he had she would say yes. She would give him this chance to prove that he meant it. That he wanted this. Wanted her in his life and that he wasn’t ashamed of it. He was aware too, that he was putting her very clearly on the spot, potentially throwing her metaphorically to the wolves. And that was the last thing he wanted. He had just opened his mouth to take it back, to tell her she didn’t have to do this, if she didn’t truly want to when she spoke.

“I…” Callie started, her attention turned briefly down to her hands on the table. “Alright.” The word came out softly and for a moment Tom was certain he’d not heard her correctly. And then she spoke again. “I’ll go.”

Tom smiled brightly, taking her hands in his and squeezing them. He could see it in her face, in her eyes that she still was uncertain. Still held doubt. But she’d agreed and that was something. He could work on the rest. He could show her he meant it. And he would.

Luke hadn’t been best pleased at the work Tom had thrown his way and had told him so, often and loudly. “It’s not that I’m against you bringing someone; you have every right to do so, you great bloody git as I’ve told you for years now. It’s the fact you tell me less than six days before the damned premiere, expecting me to handle the details; a dress, make-up, hair…Dear god, man. I can do many things, Tom, but this is cutting it a bit fine don’t you think?”

Tom had apologized profusely but insisted nonetheless. Callie deserved it. If he was doing it, he was going to do it right. And Luke had come through, confirming the details with Callie and with Tom. It would be cutting it fine, but it had been doable, he’d assured them both. She would have a styling team and a decent selection of dresses sent to hers the day of the premiere and she and Tom would travel to the theater from hers (it would be a simple enough matter to have the car Luke had hired for Tom pick him up as originally planned and then swing by for her). The process had probably hastened the arrival of Luke’s grey hair and Tom knew he’d owe the man a very nice bonus for his troubles. And probably a very long, restful holiday.

He’d gotten the text from Luke stating that the team he’d arranged would be arriving at Callie’s in the late morning of the day of the premiere. And the morning of, had texted him to let him know they’d arrived. Tom let out a small sigh of relief, at least things were going to plan so far. His own final fitting wasn’t scheduled until later than afternoon and he found himself with the better part of the morning to kill. A run seemed immensely appealing just then. A chance to clear his head and focus his mind on something other than impending nerves. So he had made quick work changing into his usual running attire and headed out the door.

He was panting and drenched in sweat by the time he returned, but much calmer in mind and spirit. A quick glance at his watch told him he had enough time to shower before his own team would arrive. He wasted little time climbing the stairs and stripping off his running gear; leaving them in a pile by the bedroom door.

The hot water felt amazing on his sore muscles and, had it been any other day, Tom would have easily stayed in the shower until he’d resembled a prune. The temptation was a strong one. But he hadn’t the luxury, not today; the coming evening was far too important for him to risk jeopardizing it. And certainly not for something so trivial. He made quick work of washing his hair and body, wrapping himself in the large, navy blue towel hanging behind the bathroom door. He padded back into his bedroom and grabbed the clean t-shirt and jogging bottoms he’d laid out.

He’d just finished rubbing his hair as dry as he could when the bell by the front gate rang. Upon confirming it was indeed his team, Tom buzzed them in and gave way to the chaos. Once he was suited and his hair had been coifed he’d found himself pacing around the living room, his earlier nerves bubbling back towards the surface. The car Luke had arranged was set to arrive at just after four, giving them plenty of time to make it to Callie’s flat and then to the theater. But four came and went.

Tom had tried very hard not to panic and had given it a good ten minutes before texting both Luke and the driving company for updates. Traffic, he’d been informed. There had been an accident shutting down several main roads and the car had been forced to detour. They should be no more than half an hour late. Tom had been as gracious as he could be with the news, though on the inside he was a seething mess of frustrated anxiety. Every call he’d made to Callie’s phone had gone to voicemail and she wasn’t answering any of the texts he’d sent either. He could only imagine what would be running through her head when the car hadn’t shown when expected.

At quarter past four the car pulled to a stop before Tom’s and he’d rushed out nearly as soon as he’d heard the bell. It was another fifteen minutes before the car pulled in front of Callie’s building. Tom had jumped from the car and taken the stairs to her flat two at a time, arriving at her door slightly out of breath. She opened it on his second knock and the apology that had been on the tip of his tongue vanished.

Simply put she was stunning. Her long, dark hair had been curled and hung loosely over one shoulder. Her dark eyes had been lined in kohl, her lips painted a stunning dark shade of red, only a few tones lighter than the dark burgundy of her dress. The dress left one shoulder bare and clung to her curves in the most sinful way, falling just past her knee. The heels she wore brought her to nearly his own height and the thought of what they could do in them flashed boldly through his mind.

“You look absolutely…Enchanting.” Tom breathed once words and sense had returned to him. He held his hand out to her, hoping she wouldn’t note it’s slightly tremble. If he had thought Callie breathtaking before it was nothing…Nothing compared to the way she overwhelmed him now.

She took his hand, murmuring a brief and quiet ‘thank you’ but said nothing else as they made their way down the stairs and into the car. The ride to the theater was, thankfully, uneventful. Whatever nightmare the traffic had been earlier had cleared enough in spite of their later start they would still most likely make it to the theater on time. The idea should have filled Tom with relief but the silence radiating from Callie tempered it significantly.

“Callie, are you alright?” It was a stupid question and he’d known it the second it had left his lips. The set of her shoulders and the way she carefully did not look in his direction as they road spoke volumes.

“I’m fine,” she answered, briefly turning her head in his direction.

Tom let his gaze fall over her, uncertainty gnawing at him. He’d pushed for her to come, to do this with him. What if…What if this wasn’t what she’d wanted? Had he forced her, however unintentionally, into going along with this? That wasn’t what he’d wanted. He couldn’t, wouldn’t make her do this just for his sake. He reached for her hands, taking them in his own. “Callie, we don’t have to do this.”

Her eyes snapped to his and Tom could clearly see the resignation and hurt in them though she was plainly trying in vain to hide it. “Oh…” She paused and swallowed thickly. “If…Alright then. I understand.”

It hit him then, what he’d said, how he’d phrased it, had been exactly the wrong thing. She thought he didn’t want her there…With him. And that was the absolute farthest thing from the truth. “No…No. No. No, Callie. That isn’t what…”

The car pulled to a stop and the dull roar from the crowd gathered around the theater echoed through the closed doors of the car. When the passenger door opened a few moments later the dull roar erupted into a wall of sound. Tom sat for a moment, indecision playing on his features, before taking a deep breath and slowly climbing from the car. He turned then, facing the opened door, waiting. But Callie hadn’t moved.

Tom smiled softly and held out his hand towards her, “Come on. It will be alright.”

Confusion played across her face. “Tom what are you…?” It was clear she had assumed he hadn’t wanted her to accompany him on the carpet. And he couldn’t have that.

“I’m waiting for my date,” he answered, pausing to wave periodically at the crowd. “Come on, love, I’ve got you.” Tentatively, she took his proffered hand, and slid slowly out of the car. Tom could feel her trembling beside him and pulled her tightly to his side. This caused an explosion of noise and Tom did his level best to ignore the unending barrage of blinding flashes. “It’s alright.” He murmured into her hair and felt her nod against him.

With his arm locked firmly around her waist, he began to lead her away from the car and towards the start of the press line. He could feel her anxiety and uncertainty and did not lessen his hold. “Tom…”

“I know,” he reassured her. “I know. It’s a lot. But I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled back just enough to look directly into her anxious eyes. Ceased by an impulse he refused to check, Tom leaned in and kissed her; firmly and with feeling. He felt her gasp in surprise and took his chance to deepen the kiss before pulling back and smiling down at her. The eruption of noise behind them, the shouts of his name and the click and flash of hundreds of cameras, barely registered for him. He inclined his head towards the waiting press line. “Shall we?”

She nodded silently and let him lead the way. He saw Luke standing at the start of the line, a look of resigned annoyance in his eyes; Tom knew there would be a reckoning later but couldn’t seem to bring himself to care. As they neared the first set of reporters and cameras, Callie pulled back and began to move towards Luke but Tom took her hand and held it firmly in his.

“Please,” he whispered. “You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. But please, stay with me?”

Callie looked at him, hesitation painted clearly on her features, for several moments before nodding and moving back to stand by his side. The grin splitting his face was nearly as blinding as the flashes exploding around them.

“Shall we?” he asked. Callie smiled, nodding her head and, hand in hand, they walked towards the press line.

[megalony]

Brothers and love- Part 3

This is the next part of my new ben Hardy series which I hope everyone is enjoying so far, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me

Summary: Ben’s brothers Joe and Gwilym and their dad Roger try and help him through his addictions that have stopped Ben from being able to look after his daughter. When (Y/n) becomes involved with the family, she vows to help Ben get custody of his daughter and finds herself falling for him along the way.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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"What if he says no?" The words came out in a single breath, rushed like they were being thrown out of Ben's mouth as his head turned to look at his big brother. Even though there were ten years between Ben and Joe, it always felt like there was little time between them with how close they had always been since childhood.

The blond couldn't help but panic now that they were both stood here on the gravel in front of the large red wooden door Ben had tried to break down two weeks ago. He was stood here, calmly for the first time in what felt like years, waiting for their dad to open the door and let him in with a smile instead of a look of panic or sorrow. But that felt like a dream which Ben knew was too good to be true. To see his family smile at him the way they used to was something that felt far-fetched to Ben with how they had all been looking at him lately. He hated the looks of sadness or sorrow or fear and pain that he received.

Ben wanted everyone to look at him and smile, to feel proud of him or happy for him or just generally pleased. He liked to please people but he always seemed to end up disappointing them instead.

He remembered all the good times in his life where he told Roger of an achievement whether it be passing a test, doing something well when Roger taught him to drive like he had done with Gwilym and Joe. Or when he simply decided he wanted to go into acting like his brothers, there was no smile like when Ben told Roger he was doing something he loved or had done something he felt proud of. When he had Hazel Roger had cried and that was one of the few times he knew his dad to cry of happiness.

Ben had done his best this week, he hadn't done amazingly well or as good as he wanted, but he had done enough. (Y/n) and Joe had helped him to clean his apartment up and rid it of all the substances that would tempt him which had been a struggle for Ben. He hadn't managed to curb his relentless urge for a drink, but he hadn't taken any heroin this week or weed or any of the few other drugs he had tried but didn't take to. He hadn't had any drugs in his system and that was enough for now. Drinking was what he was tempted to do because it calmed his raging nerves better than smoking a normal cigarette did.

He had gotten drunk two days ago, but yesterday and this morning he had been as sober as ever and Joe told him that was enough. He told him that since he was perfectly sober and clean right now, then the scheduled visit to see Hazel had to go ahead and Roger had no reason to decline.

"He can't say no, Ben, you've done everything he asked."

Roger knew what it was like to feel tempted by a drink, he wasn't an alcoholic himself but throughout his years touring and being with Queen, drinking was a large portion of that time. It was what they all did after a good show or during the coach rides to the different cities and states, it was what happened at sociable occasions and it was a pass time when in his youth at university. Roger wasn't surprised Ben had taken to drink but he was surprised he was so dependant on it so early on in his life.

Roger had asked Ben that if he visited Hazel, he had to be clean and sober for at least a day or more and he couldn't turn up under any substance influence. The drummer knew it would be hard for Ben but he wanted Ben to know he couldn't care for Hazel if he continued to intoxicate himself like this.

When the front door finally opened to reveal Roger, a shiver ran down Ben's spine as his knees trembled like they were about to snap and let him fall down to the ground. Never before had Roger looked or seemed so intimidating to Ben who always saw his father as an easy-going, kind and soft person. Even when Roger smiled, it wasn't enough to calm down the raging storm inside of Ben. It was times like this where he felt the need for a drop of whiskey for his courage and something to smoke to ease the tension in his nerves and the butterflies let loose in his stomach.

Ben couldn't manage a smile, all he could do was look to his feet before looking back up at his dad like he was a school kid to be reprimanded.

He looked better than the last time he turned up here. Ben's eyes weren't welling with tears or burnt red, his face wasn't blotched or stained with tears. His hair wasn't matted or tangled or a mess falling in front of his eyes, it was curled as usual but neatly placed under the black beanie sitting upon his head. He had remembered to put his watch on today which was something he normally forgot about, he was wearing a plain black t-shirt and his favoured silver chain around his neck with the tree of life symbol hanging loose at the end. He wore navy blue jeans and his normal black and white trainers.

He was colour coordinated, matching and presentable. He had the same style he had when he was in his teens and it made Roger think for a moment that his youngest was seventeen again.

"Come in." Ben had to look to his brother for reassurance as if he thought he had misheard before he practically jumped up the step and into the house, glancing around like he was seeing the house for the first time. He looked over at Roger as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunching in a nervous way that made him look younger.

What Roger wouldn't give to go back to Ben's teens and live them out again. To see his youngest who was always tall for his age, to watch his style grow and change and go through all the motions with him. Helping him with his anxiety, getting into the college and uni that he wanted, making his career and sharing every moment with Roger. If he could do it again he would and Roger would find moments where he could have done things better, where he could have looked out for Ben more or just guided him that bit better. Sometimes, he felt like he had let Ben down. Maybe it was because Roger had Gwilym and Joe live with him whereas Ben was always staying over at the weekends or sometimes through the week like a friend or reoccurring visiter.

Roger would change things, he would have made it better so Ben didn't feel like he needed the drink and drugs to help him when times were tough or his mind was unstable. He would turn everything around so Ben had the normal parent struggles, so he didn't have to have his daughter taken from him and his mind broken with grief and pain.

He would make things right.

"She's in there waiting for you." Roger didn't bother with the 'how are you' or 'are you feeling alright' or anything along those lines. He didn't want to make Ben wait any longer to see his daughter when he had been turned away last time and it almost broke him.

A rush of adrenaline washed over Ben as he held his breath before nodding and trying to slow down as he headed into the living room. His eyes scanned the room until he found his baby girl sitting on a blanket on the floor with toys and some stuffed teddies scattered around her. When Ben kneeled down in front of her he didn't know whether to reach over and pick her up so he could cuddle her or whether to wait for her reaction and see what she would do.

Her vibrant light caramel eyes soon found his and an open-mouthed smile was his reaction which made his heart flutter like the wings of a dove. It was as if he could feel the feathers lightly brushing against his ribs causing him to breathe quicker.

"Da! Da." Her small hands reached out towards him and her fingers curled in a grabbing motion and it was all the encouragement Ben needed to reach over and gently scoop her up into his arms.

"Hey baby."

He cuddled her to his chest, smiling when she cooed into his neck causing his skin to prickle from the sensation. Ben pressed dozens of kisses to her cheeks causing her to giggle which was like music to his ears. After a minute or two, Ben gently set her back down before moving round so he was laid out on his stomach in front of her so he could watch her play and interact.

A gentle smile pulled at his lips when she reached out for the beanie on his head like he knew she would. Whenever he wore a hat or a beanie she liked to take it off him, Hazel had some sort of likeness for Ben's hair that she would tug or grab at whenever she could. Reaching up, Ben whipped the beanie from his head, disheveling his curls that Hazel immediately reached for. She was gentle at first, running her small fingers through his newly washed hair which made her smile. But she soon grew bored and started to tug on his hair like she was trying to get him to come closer to her.

"Alright, cheeky girl, alright." Ben soothed, gently taking her hand from his hair but he shuffled closer and kissed her head, keeping her hand in his as he couldn't seem to stop smiling. He had missed her so much these past two weeks and he wanted to see her desperately.

At times, Ben wondered if Roger was keeping her away from him on purpose, like he was going to suddenly tell Ben that he was never getting custody of Hazel and he would never see her again. But he felt calmer now that he knew Roger seemed to be on his side like Joe was. He was looking out for him like he always said he would, just like Joe always did too. Ben knew the pair had gone into the kitchen to let him have time on his own with Hazel and he was thankful for that.

The first time Ben had a visit to see Hazel it had been a week after they had taken her from him and no one let Ben out of their sights. They thought he would run off with her and it was clear he was very tempted to do so. He had tried that before but it didn't work and it only upset both him and Hazel but he never wanted to leave.

Every time he went back home Ben wondered if Hazel would forget about him or be better off without him or he fretted that he was never going to get her back. It seemed like such a long time away until he was going to be able to have his baby girl back with him properly instead of visiting her with people watching over them.

Ben wanted to be able to feed Hazel and take her out to the park or put her to bed or give her a bath again. He wanted to do everything with her that he wasn't allowed to. All he could do on these visits was just sit and play or cuddle with her and it wasn't enough. Ben didn't want to be a visitor in his daughter's life, he wanted to be her dad and look after her and take care of her like he had done the moment she had been born. This wasn't the same and it didn't feel fair.

After a while, Ben gently picked Hazel up and made his way into the kitchen with her to get her a drink. He settled her on his hip, feeling her small hands grasping at his shoulder as she started to chew on his shirt as he searched for a bottle. Just for a few minutes in the silence of the kitchen as he found what he was looking for, Ben felt like everything was different. He felt like he was living back at home with his dad with a four-month-old in his arms. Ben felt like he had gone back in time to when everything was bearable and no one doubted his skills as a parent.

When he was staying with Roger and he had Hazel, Ben had felt so much better. He had taken care of her with no problems, no one said anything or looked at him oddly or watched him for any mistakes, everyone thought he was a good dad. For a few weeks when he was at the flat with Hazel he felt like everything was okay. He had happy looking after her, putting her to bed or feeding her and waking up at all hours. It had been bliss to look after her and then pop to auditions every week to find a new role to work on.

Leaning his back against the island counter, Ben looked at the one-year-old perched on his hip who was holding onto his hand that was holding the bottle for her. He loved it when she had a bottle because her eyes always managed to find his and her iris' seemed to enlarge and their colour intensified. She looked so sweet and beautiful and precious looking up at him like that with manic curls that matched his own. When her head leaned on his shoulder but she continued to stare up at him, Ben felt content washing over him like the tide.

But as soon as he saw Joe quietly walking into the kitchen, the tide returned back to the shore and Ben no longer felt like he had travelled back to a near memory in time. He was back where he didn't want to be, living on scheduled visits to his daughter instead of being with her all the time. He was back to having his parenting skills witnessed and observed.

"I don't want to go." Ben shook his head as he pleaded with his brother, pushing away the tears already threatening to spill despite the content feeling he had felt only a matter of seconds ago.

"Buddy, we have to go soon, you can come back to mine if you want?" Joe leaned against the doorframe, holding onto it as if for safety as he stared at his baby brother who looked like he was no in pain and Joe hated to be the one to cause that pain. But they had to be going soon and Hazel would need a nap soon anyway.

When Roger walked into the kitchen, Ben turned to look at him with a pleading expression that broke Roger's heart completely.

"Can't I stay? Can I stay with you again, dad please? It worked last time, I can get clean and be with Hazel." Ben bounced his girl on his hip as he set down the empty bottle on the counter. He held Hazel a little higher up on his chest as she rested her cheek on his shoulder so her breaths fanned against his neck like she was trying to calm him down.

Ben could stay with Roger like he had done last time, he would make sure it worked this time around. If he was struggling he would tell them instead of running away and making himself worse. He could be around Hazel every day and be motivated to get clean for good and there would be nothing here to tempt him. He could try again and it would work out, he just couldn't keep being separated from his baby girl.

"Ben... I want you to stay so I can keep an eye on you I do, but you know you can't if Hazel's here. It's not my rules but if you want her to stay here then you have to follow them, what if you stayed here and you got drunk or got high around her-"

If Roger had the choice then he would say yes immediately because he wanted Ben around. He would have all the boys come back home if they wanted because Roger missed the days of having his kids at home and right now Ben needed help that Roger wanted to give. But he couldn't. It was a risk to have Ben in the same house as Hazel in case Ben got high or drunk around her. He wasn't allowed custody of her because he was deemed unfit to care for her so being in the same house went against those regulations. It was good for Ben that his family had care of Hazel instead of a foster family, they couldn't push the boundaries any further in case they broke.

"You came home drunk hundreds of times and it didn't bother us, I wouldn't hurt her you know that." Ben knew Roger had come home from parties or tours or just nights out and he had been very drunk and it never bothered the boys. Roger didn't get violent when he was drunk and neither did Ben, he wouldn't pose harm to Hazel. Ben would be around Roger and his family if he stayed here so they could stop him from excessing with his drink and they could get him clean so he wouldn't be a hazard to his girl or anyone else.

"I'm not worried about you hurting her, no one is saying that and you know that. We're saying that you can't control it, you need the drink and you get high and you can't do that every day around her. Son, I'm sorry but it's not my choice, you can't stay with me unless Hazel goes to stay with someone else."

"You can stay with me." Joe piped up, his head leaning to the side in a pleading manner because he wanted Ben with him. He wanted to help his brother get through this so he could have Hazel back as quickly as possible because being apart from her wasn't helping him at all.

"I don't want to stay with you, I want to stay with her. She's gonna forget about me, she'll think I'm some visiter or her uncle soon but I'm her dad. Every time I visit her I want to take her home with me and it kills me, I, I can't keep doing this dad." Ben leaned his head against Hazel's as he felt her beginning to fall asleep. He slowly swayed from side to side, bouncing her gently in his arms to help her go to sleep as he started to cry.

Each time Ben visited he just wanted to snatch her and go home with her and make everything alright. It was worse each time he visited because he yearned to have longer with her or to be her dad again instead of having slotted times to come and see her. Ben didn't know how much longer he could keep doing this.

"She's one, she won't understand you not living with her and soon enough all she will know and remember is living with her dad which is you and she knows who you are." Joe felt his heart breaking because time was different for Ben and Hazel. She didn't understand the passing days, she wasn't keeping a log of where Ben was she wouldn't know if he was living in the same house as her or not. And soon she would hopefully be back living with him and she would never know that she had been apart from him. Ben was the one in pain and who would remember this separation.

"Next time you visit we can take her out somewhere, or you can stay for tea or be here when she gets settled to sleep. You can do whatever you like next week when you visit and she will know who you are. If we get you clean and get you help then you won't need to come and visit, she will be back with you I promise." Roger's promises always counted for something, they were always sacred and special to Ben but right now it meant very little.

Everyone was telling him that Hazel would be back with him soon enough and that this wasn't for long but it felt like it was going to be forever. Until someone told him for definite that she could be back with him tomorrow or next week, that promise wasn't going to mean anything or be taken to heart.

A shuddering breath escaped Ben's wobbling lips before they pressed to Hazel's temple. He pushed himself off the counter and started to walk forward and his heart shattered when Joe shifted just the tiniest bit and Ben knew it was because he thought Ben was going to try and walk out with his daughter. Ben's chest started to quake as he walked over to where Roger was standing and gently moved Hazel in his arms so Roger could take her. As soon as his sleeping granddaughter was in his arms, Roger felt a tear leaving his eye as Ben sobbed.

Ben pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to smother his cries as he turned away from his girl and forcefully barged his shoulder into Joe's as he walked past him. He reached out and swiped his beanie from the back of the sofa where he had tossed it earlier, pulling the material over his hair before he stormed out of the house. He didn't care that Joe had driven him down here, Ben didn't even look in the direction of the car as he started to walk down the gravel of the drive. His hands burrowed into his pockets as his shoulders rose up and his head bowed down.

Next time he wouldn't be able to let her go because each time he did, a piece of his heart died.

[nat-roman0ff]

i. the first 45 seconds of your life

the here and now; sequel to another certain time and place (read the full series in my masterlist)

i. the first 45 seconds of your life the one where they begin wc: 2,776 warnings: smut (oral), burnt chicken & fading time

---

“I’m in love with you.” 

 Her whole body freezes in place, and she isn’t quite sure what to say or do or any of that because her mind is too busy short circuiting over the words that just came out of Shawn’s mouth.

 She continues to stare blankly at him while Shawn’s eyes search her face for any kind of recognition of his words. He’s only met with a blank stare in her eyes, and the color systematically draining out of her face. She tilts her head, and he thinks she’s about to say something but she stops herself. Finally, her brows furrow, and it’s the first sign of life he’s seen in her face in the last forty-five seconds since he dropped those final words. 

 “I’m in love with you too,” she says. And the world is right again. 

---

 Their world had been a cotton candy cloud of happiness, making their friends vomit at their disgusting love for each other, and spending a lot of time in the bedroom (and the kitchen, and the shower, and the sofa…). 

 Being in love, rules, Shawn thinks while he watches her precisely put on her mascara in the bathroom vanity mirror. He smiles when her mouth opens ever so slightly in that little O-shape that he knows she can’t help. She leans back to stand up straight and blinks twice, dabbing away an imprint of black on the tops of her cheek. 

 “If you keep standing there and staring I might press charges,” she says, turning her head to him and smiling.

 “Yeah?” he says, folding his arms across his chest while he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, “What kind of charges are we talking?” 

 She pops her lips, swiping a bit of gloss along her bottom lip, “well, definitely for being a creep, and slightly obsessed with me.” 

 “Not at all a lie,” Shawn grins. 

 She twists the tube of her gloss tight, “and probably being super hella cute and a giant fucking cheeseball.” 

 She trails across the bathroom on her tiptoes to him, leaving a sticky, shiny, strawberry scented lip print on his cheek, “and for definitely having the best dick in Toronto.” 

 Shawn’s sloppy smile widens across his face and then fades, “wait, how many dicks in Toronto have you seen?” 

 His girlfriend shimmies past him and into their shared bedroom. She’s more or less moved in with him over the past few weeks. He swears it’s a quicker commute for her to work (it’s not) and that his coffee shop is better than hers (maybe it is, but it also costs double the price on this side of town). She always keeps two extra work outfits in his closet, and a spare toothbrush, just in case. He even bought the same shampoo and conditioner as her so she can always be ready to spend the night.

 Shawn watches her dress, observing as her hands smooth out the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress, turning in the mirror to make sure it falls the right way. She tucks on a pair of heels and stands in front of the mirror, taking in a deep breath to hold herself high and proud before releasing it and relaxing her shoulders. 

 “I don’t want to go to work today.” 

 Shawn stands and wraps his arms around her from behind, “too bad, one of us has to pay the bills around here,” he kisses a bit of her exposed shoulder and then rests his chin on it to look at her through the mirror, “just know if you do need to quit your job, I can help you out in the meantime.” 

 She rolls her eyes and slithers out of his grasp, “not everyone gets to do what they love at twenty-one, Shawn. Just because I hate my job now doesn’t mean I’m going to hate it forever. It’s a good stepping stone, I have to pay my dues before I can get to where I want to be.” 

 “I know that, babe,” he leans against the dresser beside them, “I just don’t like seeing you miserable.” 

 She rolls her eyes again, “I’m not miserable Shawn. Far from it. But I will be miserable if you don’t get me a bottle of wine and some takeout tonight,” she gives him a peck on the lips, “now I really have to go.” 

 It’s a pretty mundane Friday for Shawn when she leaves. He goes to the gym, eats breakfast, drinks his coffee, takes a shower, does some laundry. It’s mundane and everyday and routine But it’s so fucking nice to be bored every once and a while. Although he was never bored with her. Sure, they could be bored, laying on the couch scrolling through their phones and not saying anything, but so long as she was there, he was never bored. 

 Mundane was a nice sort of calm between being in a different city every night and sleeping on a cramped bus with three other people. But time was getting away from them, he thought about the last weeks they had together, alone. They had four more days before the next leg of tour started and he had to leave her behind. Neither had spoken about it, they just watched as the sand in the hour glass dwindled and they weren’t ready for the next two months apart. Sure, they’d done it before as friends, but it was different now. Shawn had never felt such a cosmic closeness to someone before, his body was different when she wasn’t around.

 On the other side of Toronto, she drags her feet into the office building she regrets to call work. It’s not all bad, except for her bitchy boss and coworkers who love nothing more than to make her feel inadequate. But she constantly reminds herself how lucky she is to be here, and that this situation isn’t permanent.

 At lunchtime, a deliveryman stops at her cubicle with a sunflower floral arrangement. She plucks up the card and of course they’re from Shawn. She giggles at the message he’s written her and blushes when she thinks about the poor person at the florist shop that had to write it.

 Hey sexy!

 I hope your Friday is as wonderful as you are. I already miss you even though you just left. I can’t wait to see you tonight and eat you out like four times. See you soon. 

 Shawn (aka love daddy)

 She covers her mouth to stifle a snort and arranges the flowers on her desk. The rest of the day comes easy with the promise of coming home to Shawn. What she wasn’t looking forward to was his departure in four days. He’d finally (sort of) given up on asking her to come with him on tour. It was terrible timing and would put too much of a dent in her life right now - it just wasn’t cohesive. It was the last leg, so the worst of it was over and she had to remember that there were only a few more months to go until he was home in time for the holidays. 

 Of course, there would be more tours, award shows, promo, trips to the studio, music videos, and everything else that came with being Shawn that would keep them away. But their cotton candy cloud was too big and sweet right now to burst. 

 ---

 Her insides scream sweet relief when the clock stikes 5pm and it’s time to go home to Shawn. She mutters obscenities to herself as she wrestles with the oversized floral arrangement on her walk home. Luckily it’s not far and when the elevator door opens to his floor she’s met with the smell of something burning and a smoke alarm blaring. 

 Shawn tried to cook again.

 “Oh honey you’re already home!” He coughs as he tries to clear the smoke in the kitchen by waving an oven mit and dish towel around. 

 She chuckles and sets the flowers on the counter as the scent of burnt chicken fills her nostrils. She sees the sizzling, smoky pan in the sink with what looks like charcoal stuck onto it. 

 “You really didn’t have to,” she laughs, “in fact, please don’t ever do it again.” 

 His arms stop waving and he pouts. The alarm finally silences and Shawn shakes his head to clear the ringing in his ears, “I was just trying to do something nice.” 

 She hops off the chair of the kitchen island and saunters towards him, placing a hand on his chest, “while I appreciate the effort, you are completely helpless in the kitchen. But I still love you for it.”

 “I guess I can’t be good at everything,” he says, swishing a layer of invisible hair over his shoulder.

 She punches his shoulder, “so what should we have? Pizza or Chinese?” 

 He gets that look in his eye, “I’d rather have you first.” 

 She squeaks when the cold granite countertop hits the backs of her thighs. Shawn’s mouth is on her before she has a half second to process what’s happening. He’s been waiting for her all day ever since he came across a pair of her black lacy underwear while doing laundry. He couldn’t get the image of the way they sit across her hips out of his fucking head since lunchtime and now that she was home he couldn’t wait to devour her.

 His lips are fast and hungry against hers. She contorts her body a little in an attempt to pull off her heels, Shawn’s hand grabs her wrist, “keep them on,” he says with a bite to her ear, he kisses down the hollow part of her throat and across her chest to just where her dress crosses her breasts in a V-shape, “and lay back.” 

 She moves slowly to ensure there’s nothing behind her. Her head barely stays on the counter, her hair waterfalling over the edge. She lets her arms fall back too and relishes in the feeling of Shawn taking control. He wastes no time reaching under her dress, letting his fingers tiptoe the thin straps of her underwear before hooking them around his index fingers. 

 Shawn slows down for a second, taking his time as he tugs the fabric down her soft thighs. He thinks of how much he’s going to fucking miss this on tour and there’s no amount of FaceTime and handywork that will make up for the feeling of her skin under his. He’s obsessed with the way she feels, with every dip and dimple, every tiger stripe of faded stretched out skin - everything that made her uniquely for him. 

 He finally pushes the fabric past her manicured toes and slingshots it into the living room, she watches as it flies over the couch and behind it to that lost space between the sofa and wall. 

 “Hey!” She says sitting up, “you’re gonna fish those out later, buddy.” 

 Shawn just smiles and holds her face in his hand and gives her the softest kiss. He breaks away and walks to the fridge to pull out the wine she’d requested this morning. He opens the cork with ease and takes a sip from the bottle before handing it to her.

 “Oh so it’s a drink straight out of the bottle kind of night, huh?” She asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after taking too big a sip. 

 Shawn just replies with another ferocious kiss, his mouth tastes like the grapes of her favorite wine and she rests her hands low on his hips. He places a palm on her sternum and nudges her back. She gets the hint and lays back flat against the granite countertop. Shawn’s hand works slowly down her front, cupping her heat and letting the fabric create some much warranted friction. 

 She lets out a breathless moan at the contact and bites down hard on her lip. He does it again, and makes sure to hit her sensitive bundle of nerves and she bucks her hips up into him. When he moves his hand away from her she pouts and he wants to kiss that pout right off her face but resists doing so, the alternative is much better. 

 He bunches the fabric of her dress in his fist and pulls up, revealing her bare half to him. His tongue involuntarily swipes over his bottom lip and he feels his pants tighten. She can feel the cold air hit her in the most devine way. Shawn drops to his knees and places each of her legs over his shoulders. 

 “Missed you,” he whispers. 

 She laughs, “are you talking to me or my vagina?” 

 “I’m not going to answer that question.” 

 He feels her body shake with laughter, but calms it the moment his lips hit her knee. Shawn kisses slowly up the inside of her leg, past dimples and faded stripes of rippled skin. He places a single kiss above her heat before working, moving to work up the other side, he wants to leave no patch of skin unloved, un-worshiped. 

 Her fingers thread through the curls at the top of his head when he nears closer to her center and he knows she’s more than ready for it now. He slides her forward just a bit more on the counter (he’d almost chipped a tooth on the granite when he tried this last week). She tugs at his hair to encourage him, her whole body shivering the moment his tongue takes the first lap of her core. 

 She lets out a breathy fuck to disguise the moan as he picks up the pace. He starts with his usual figure eights, the condo silent except for her gasping, muted moans and the sound of Shawn’s tongue against her soaked center. 

 The sharp of her heels dig into his shoulders as he adds two fingers to enter her. Her hand leaves his hair to grab at anything she can, her nails scratching against the hard surface of the countertop when she’d normally ball a fist of sheets in her hand. Shawn watches her chest heave as he steadies his rhythm; lips sucking at her tender bud, long fingers curling inside of her to reach that one spot. 

 A warm spot in her lower body begins to boil over and burn her skin from toe to fingertip. She can feel it crawl up her chest and into her cheeks, painting them his favorite shade of pink. The lower part of her body twitches under him but he’s quick to hold her down with the palm his hand, tutting her along the way.

 “Shawn I’m so so so so so close,” she breathes, digging her heels even harder into his shoulders but he’s too into it to care about the searing pain. 

 He releases her with a wet pop of his lips, “just let go whenever you’re ready.” 

 She takes a deep breath but it’s cut off when his tongue does overtime on her. Too sensitive to take it, she lets her orgasm crash over her with an arch of her back and a moan that echoes throughout the condo.

 Shawn stands and leans over her body to kiss her forehead, “stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

 She nods, too fucked to even think straight about it. He gives her time to recover while he runs to the bathroom to wet a washcloth with warm water. When he returns, he runs it softly up her inner thighs, cleaning up the dampness from her arousal mixed with his spit. She quivers when he runs it gently across her sensitive core and covers her back up with the skirt of her dress.

 “I need some help up, you destroyed me,” she groans, wiggling her fingers at him. 

 Shawn chuckles and grabs her hand to sit her up straight. Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are still prickled with his favorite pink and he’s not sure how he managed to live this long without telling her he’s in love with her.

 “So, pizza or Chinese?” He asks, repeating her question from earlier.

 She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him in between her legs, “oh no, you’re next.”

 ---

 heyyyyyyyyy! so this is the first chapter to the sequel of a certain time and place! i love all the beautiful responses i got from the last series. this chapter is moreso of a drop in, we have a LONG way to go with these guys and i’m excited to share it with y’all! drop a reblog, reply or ask if you enjoyed :)