#and he STILL chose asking for an open relationship over fucking communicating to me

[voulezloux]

.

[jungkooksrealgirlfriend]

Eggs Breakfast 🍳🫦

🥚pairing: jungkook x fem reader

🥚word count: 3.5k

🥚genre: really filthy smut 😭

🥚summary: while cooking breakfast for jungkook one morning, his mind cracks an idea. what if he were the one making the scrambled eggs today?

🥚warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex, anal sex, food play, fingering, explicit language, oral sex, dirty talk, creampie, crack (🤣🍳) fic, idfk what else but this shit is dirty  

🥚disclaimer (with the notion that only a small group of my friends will read this): i am not a writer by any means and i just wrote this for fun because my friend requested a fic based on an inside joke our friend group has and i wanted to take a crack (pun intended) at it. for that reason, i apologize if certain things don’t make sense. it’s also got other random inside jokes sprinkled in so if something seems weirdly mentioned, random, or goofy then that’s probably why. also, i did write this the best i could but it’s also a joke fic so don’t take it seriously. and no, i don’t have a kink of jungkook fucking eggs into my booty hole 😭💀 but if any of u do i don’t kink shame and i hope u enjoy fr 🤝 and to my friends DON’T FUCKING ROAST ME LMFAOAOAOO i wrote this out of the kindness in my heart for a friend who was in (really) desperate need. also!! i am a tumblr noob and don’t know much about formatting, but i’ve found this is easier to read when it’s not on my xxx.tumblr.com page but instead on the normal tumblr.com/xxx page (at the time of posting this in dec 2022) because the spacing doesn’t carry over for some reason? bro idk if it’s the theme i chose or it’s something fixable on tumblr but like i said i’m not a writer nor tumblr savvy 💀 so bear with me

Jungkook leans on the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you standing across from him, back turned his way. He hated the way his cock stirred in his sweats at the sight of you cooking breakfast in those sleeping shorts you liked to wear. If it wasn’t your exposed legs that got him going, it was definitely the way half your ass was peeking out from under the cloth.

Yet you simply continued your activities, being none the wiser to the man standing behind you. You reached for the carton of fresh eggs sitting on the counter, grabbing one before cracking it into the pan. You didn't need to ask Jungkook how he liked his eggs in the morning, because after being in a three year long relationship, you knew all too well that he preferred them over easy, just as he knew you preferred yours scrambled and with ketchup.

He also knew that you preferred iced coffee over hot coffee, and that you liked warmer weather over colder weather. But one of his favorite things he knew about you was how you were ever so willing to try new things, whether that be hesitantly tasting a new food at his favorite restaurant or agreeing to try something crazy in the bedroom.

You two were no strangers to spicing it up during naughty time, and you both have always been open and communicated about the things you’ve wanted to try. That thought alone caused Jungkook’s mind to wander, truly wondering if you really were willing to try anything at all. Because the sight of you in those shorts, cracking eggs into a pan set his imagination on fire.

He gingerly pushes himself off the counter and walks towards you, arms swaying briefly at his sides before he pushes himself against your back and snakes his hands around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggle, flipping the egg in the pan. 

“Getting impatient? It’s almost done, baby.”

“I think I’m hungry for something else now,” he rasps out, morning voice still present as he pushes his clothed dick against your ass. “Don’t know how you expect me to behave when you're leaving little to the imagination.”

At that you smirk, and Jungkook thinks maybe you did it on purpose to get a rise out of him. His suspicion turns out to be true when you turn off the stove, slide his egg onto a plate, and turn around with a look in your eyes that he knows all too well. 

“But baby,” you say, feigning innocence as you travel your hand up his exposed chest, “don’t you want to eat your breakfast? It’s over easy, just how you like it. And eggs are good for stamina.” you tease.

“You’re a little motherfucking stinker,” he snickers. “I want you to know that.”

“Hmmm, am I?” you muse, “You’re the one talking nonsense at 9 in the morning. Maybe you’re the motherfucking stinker.”

There is no serious weight to either of your words at the obvious joke, yet he still clenches his jaw and moves his face only inches from yours, eyes meeting eyes. 

He lets out a small breath, “You’re going to regret saying that. You have no idea what I wanna do to you right now.”

You can’t help but laugh, not missing the lustful glint in his eyes. You love the back and forth that often happens between you two. It causes your stomach to bubble with anticipation because it doesn’t take long for him to get you wet and in the mood. 

“I never regret anything.”

“Oh baby,” he rests his forehead against yours, “you will this time.”

Suddenly you’re pulled from your spot of being pinned against the stove and are shoved front-forward against the breakfast bar, hands sprawled out on the granite countertop. You can’t help but smile like an idiot because pushing his buttons is your favorite thing to do, and what tends to follow soon after leaves you breathless.

You feel him slide his hands up and down your sides, this action alone sending shivers through your spine. But when he begins to push you down onto the counter with his naked chest against your back, hands following down your arms and intertwining with your own, you find yourself holding your breath before your cheek meets the cold surface with hands on either side of your head.

He’s almost laying on top of you, squishing your body between his own and the breakfast bar. You can only imagine how erotic the scene must look and you wish you had a mirror nearby so you could look into it and see how his body fit against yours like a puzzle piece. You feel his now fully hard dick poking your ass, his chest against your back, and his hands on top of yours. You feel him everywhere, yet not in the places you’re craving him the most right now. 

He leans down to your ear and nibbles on it. “I’m not going to be nice this time. I know you did all this to intentionally provoke me. Is this fun for you?” he chuckles, “Pushing my buttons to get me riled up?”

His voice comes out raspier than you expect and it sends a shiver throughout your whole body causing you to rub your thighs together. He cocks his head to the side a bit, eyes meeting yours and you know he’s waiting for an answer, so you nod your head and smirk up at him. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking hot.”

This causes him to smirk back at you as he licks his bottom lip. You slightly lift your head and allow your eyes to follow the movement before looking back up into his own in an unspoken request. He understands what you want and grants your wish by connecting your lips together.

This kiss is rough and needy, but his lips feel so good against yours that you moan in satisfaction. Bodies on fire, tongues dancing together, and with the need to feel more you push your ass harder against his length in an attempt to gain some friction earning a grunt from the man who, of course, isn’t wearing any underwear. 

Jungkook, knowing you better than you know yourself, grants you your silent plea as he begins to grind your covered heat with his knee. He grinds, and grinds. You feel your adrenaline pick up and you can’t take it anymore. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp out, “need to feel you.”

He chuckles before pulling away, pushing himself off your back and leaving you flat against the counter. His breathing is heavy as he lifts his tattooed arm to brush his hair back, his other arm grabbing firm hold of your waist. Your eyes drop to his abs as they flex at the action, and you swear you could hear purring at this point because of how much your pussy gushed with anticipation. 

He shakes his head, “Look at you, begging for my cock. Is this what you wanted all along? For me to bend you over the counter and fuck you so well like you know I can?”

His voice was low and sultry and fuck, he sounded so hot it made you automatically clench around nothing. He always knew what to say to make your knees weak. 

“Yes” you say, voice coming out whinier than you expected. “Need you so bad right now, baby.”

He knew you went crazy over his dirty words, and you knew he went crazy when you begged for him. 

“Then spread your legs for me, love.”

He tucks his fingers under your waistband slowly tugging them down your legs along with your panties that were now soaked with your arousal. You felt the cold air hit your core and you let out a shaky breath, stepping out of the two articles of clothing once they were by your ankles. 

Without waiting for instruction, you momentarily lift yourself off of the counter to pull your shirt over your head, being left completely nude and vulnerable to Jungkook’s eyes. However, you didn’t feel embarrassed or insecure. You felt the opposite actually, since Jungkook always made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world who had the sexiest body, and he often showed you how much he loved it.

Laying back down on the counter, Jungkook places his hands back on your now naked waist, kicking your legs open with his own, wide enough for him to stand in between. He slides his long fingers through your slick folds causing you to quickly shut your eyes and moan at the contact. The combination of his fingers and the cold counter underneath your bare chest makes you shiver and you spread your legs even wider.

Jungkook snickers and retrieves his fingers, earning a protesting whine from you. Sneaking a glance back, you see him pulling his gray sweats down his hips, letting them fall to his ankles before he steps out of them and kicks them somewhere to the side along with your clothes too. 

Seeing his bare dick practically makes your mouth water and you wish you could drop to your knees and pleasure him, however his hold on you is tight and you know whatever he has planned will please both of you. 

Momentarily locking eyes with him, you both smirk at each other before you lay your cheek back on the surface, eagerly awaiting him to part your folds. However, the intrusion doesn’t come and you instead feel him lean to reach for something. Once again, you lift your head to look over your shoulder, seeing him grab an egg from the open carton you left by the stove.

“Jungkook… what are you doing?” you question.

He returns to his previous position, egg in hand and knowing smirk on his face. Your eyes move between the egg and his eyes, until he leans down, nose almost touching yours. You can feel his warm breath on your face and the close proximity makes you clench again. He’s staring deep into your eyes and you feel like he’s staring straight into your soul.

“I’m going to crack this egg into your ass and fuck you so hard that I scramble it. Then, I’m gonna enjoy my breakfast.”

You tense at his words. He wants to what? The idea sounds crazy but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering it, imagining him fucking you, using the slippery egg as your lube until you’re screaming his name. However, you’re hesitant because this is new territory for the both of you.

“You’re joking right? You can’t be serious about that. About fucking it in my ass. About… scrambling it.” you question.

Was he joking? Jungkook didn’t know. He was sure that the heat radiating off your bodies was enough to fry an egg, so why not scramble it?

“You should know more than anyone when I am and am not fucking around.” he rasps out.

You gulp, getting more turned on by his words. Were you really about to let him crack an egg in your booty hole? In other circumstances you’d probably laugh in his face and tell him he’s being ridiculous, but in this moment the raw sex appeal he’s radiating has you considering it. Really considering it.

Staring back into his eyes you slowly nod your head, your lips slightly turning upwards. 

“Okay big boy. Show me exactly what you mean. Show me how well you can fuck me with that egg.”

At this he backs away and stands tall, smirking to himself before he takes a deep breath. 

“Spread yourself for me.” he commands.

You lay your cheek on the counter and reach behind you, grabbing your ass and spreading it open.

Jungkook knew in order for the egg to make it into your hole he was going to have to stretch you out, so he took his his index and middle fingers and began rubbing them through your folds to gather some of your arousal. 

The touch came as a shock to you and you jerked forward, mewling at the feeling. His fingers felt so good and you thought if he kept on you would’ve came before he even entered you. 

He continues to gather your slick and moves it to your ass, rubbing it over your puckered hole to allow for easier penetration. 

He begins to push one finger in, a deep moan ripping out of your throat. He used his other hand to caress the small of your back as he kept slowly pushing in until he was a knuckle deep. He then slowly pulled out, repeating the process until he was pumping you. The pace wasn’t anything drastic, and the feel of his single finger was definitely not enough for you to reach your high, but that didn’t stop the quiet whimpers that escaped your lips.

After deciding you needed more, you pushed your ass back and he took that as a sign to add a second finger, fingering you faster and deeper than before. 

With each pump, you moaned out at the feeling, cursing under your breath when he adds a third finger. Jungkook wanted to make sure you were stretched enough, so he took his time, gradually quickening his pace. 

All that could be heard in the tiny kitchen was your whimpers and the soft wet sounds of your arousal coating his fingers. 

Suddenly his fingers were gone from your hole and you felt like crying, missing his touch already. A moment passes before you hear the sound of him cracking the egg onto the counter with enough force for the shell to break but not enough for anything to leak out. 

Your body felt like it was on fire, your hair sticking to your forehead and you were sure Jungkook’s was doing the same. You could hardly think at this moment, barely registering the words that came from his mouth.

“You ready?” he asks, licking his lips.

You immediately nodded, eager to feel anything. 

But you knew Jungkook needed to hear you voice it, so you whispered out a small “Please.”

“So needy.” he mumbles as he slightly lowers down and uses both hands to begin opening the egg, watching as the clear mucus begins to seep into your hole as you still hold your ass open.

The feeling was strange, but not unwelcome. The egg was cold, but not cold enough to feel uncomfortable. Instead, the feeling made you tense and shiver with anticipation, and the thought of Jungkook fucking it into you was the only thing on your mind right now.

He opened it wider, watching as the remainder of egg was sucked into your hole. “I’m glad this went over easy.” he amusingly remarks. 

“Fuck you,” you curse, irritation hinting because of how impatient you were. Was he really making puns right now?

“You’re about to,” he smirks, pushing two fingers into your hole to spread the egg. It’s slick and if even possible, it turns him on more, especially from the way you jerk forward and loudly moan. 

However, he’s brief and removes his egg-slicked fingers to take his dick into his hand, groaning at the feeling of giving himself a few pumps, coating it with a thin layer of egg white. He grabs your waist before he situates himself at your back entrance, pausing for a second before he begins to push himself in.

He was easily able to bottom out, the slimy texture of the egg being the clear reason for that. He barely gives you any time to adjust before he pulls out and slams his hips forward all over again.

You moan uncontrollably, mouth agape in pleasure and eyes tightly shut. He was pumping in and out of you with ease, further coating his dick with your arousal and the egg that was now surely beginning to froth inside your body the quicker his pace became. 

The slick sounds and the way his balls slapped against your pussy made your head spin, and Jungkook was surely enjoying this just as much as you were from the way his head was tilted back and he was groaning, hands holding your hips so tight that you were sure there would be bruises later.

“Fuck!” you screamed out, tears beginning to prick your eyes as your moans began to mix with sobs at how fucking good it felt. The temperature of the egg in your body was now matching your own, a contrast to the cold plated eggs you had cooked earlier that were long forgotten on the counter.

“Jungkook,” you stuttered out, “so…so good” you sobbed. 

Hearing you sound so vulnerable, saying his name while he was balls deep inside of you made his cock twitch and a moan escape his lips. He loved you so much and would do anything for you. He would get on his hands and knees and wash your feet as Jesus did for Judas, simply doing it out of his love and obsession for you.

You felt your stomach begin to tighten, a sign that you were close to your high. Jungkook was close too, but he wanted you to cum first so he let go of your hip with one of his hands and began to circle your sensitive bud as you shuddered underneath him. He then moved his fingers from your clit to your entrance, pushing in and pumping his fingers fast.

“I am go-go-go-gonna cum.” you stutter, seemingly not able to even say that simple sentence as you screw your eyes shut tighter.

The combination of his dick pumping in your ass and his fingers in your cunt brings a whole new wave of pleasure. You feel so full of him and without warning, you tense and feel the knot snap in your stomach as you cum on his fingers and uncontrollably clench around them. Your ass convulses as you’re clenching hard around his dick, seeming to involuntarily suck it in deeper with ease pulse. 

Your entire body tingles as you let out a guttoral moan and say his name over and over like a chant. Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you begin to feel the start of overstimulation.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, removing his fingers from your cunt before he shoves them into your mouth and uses his other hand to hold you down by your neck, the pressure making your eyes roll back into your head as you suck his fingers and taste yourself, moaning as you do.

He then starts pumping at an even more animalistic pace than before, trying to reach his own high as you start whimpering from the overstimulation. 

“I know baby, I know.” he soothes, keeping the same pace before his hips begin stuttering and he cums inside your ass, a loud moan ripping from his throat as well.

He doesn’t move, you both breathing heavily as he curses and lays his head on your back, intertwining his hands with your own. You feel content at having just been properly fucked and could really go for a shower right now.

However, he’s not done as he gives you a final pump, further mixing his semen with the raw egg before he removes his softening cock, crouches down, and lifts you up higher by your thighs. 

You’re too fucked out to immediately react, but you widen your eyes when you realize what he’s about to do.

He licks a stripe through your pussy, tasting your arousal on his tongue. “You taste so fucking good.” he moans.

“What are you doing?” you question, using the little strength you have left to look behind you, meeting his eyes. 

He can see the look in your eyes, see you’re surprised because you know what he’s about to do. So he smirks. That fucker smirks. 

“I’m about to enjoy my breakfast.”

He takes his two fingers and gathers up the cum and egg dripping out of your hole, shoving it back in and pumping a few times before removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. 

You gasp out, not believing he was actually eating your ass hole right after fucking an egg into you.

“Mmmm,” he hums into your backside. 

Uncontrollable moans leave your mouth as he licks you clean, standing up shortly after and lightly slapping your ass.

You stand up, legs wobbly, and you have to grib the edge of the breakfast bar to stop your knees from giving out. 

Jungkook felt good seeing you like this, knowing he was the cause and reason. It boosted his ego and he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“You’re nasty as shit,” you spit, turning around to face him while your hands still gripped the counter. However, you had a smirk on your lips showing Jungkook that you didn’t really mean it.

He chuckles, giving you a raise of his eyebrow.

“Well you didn’t seem to think so when you were begging for me to touch you.”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I love the way you fuck me.”

He walks up to you, hands sliding over your arms leaving goosebumps on your skin. He looks down at you and you look up, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind having my breakfast like that again in the future,” he smirks, “because I think scrambled eggs just became my new favorite.”

[lyrenminth]

NUMBER ONE PICK pt 2

tw: drunk Joe, mentions of sexual activity.

Your dress was red, long and had an opening in one leg. You felt gorgeous for that night. 

Having Joe Burrow as your boyfriend was...well, normal against all oddities. You had this established routine and agreements on your relationship. It was working well for you. The Heisman’s ceremony was the first formal event you went together as a couple. It was a glimpse of what the NFL would be.

Joe was damn hot with his black suit and charming smile. You went to the red carpet together and his family and took pictures. At one point your felt like daydreaming. 

“This is my girlfriend, y/n” he introduced you to the other candidates��“she is an excellent volleyball player”

When they announce Joe was the winner, you could feel the pride all over your body. You wanted to scream  like a maniac but all you could do was clap with tears in your eyes. “I want to say thank you to my coaches, my teammates, my family, my girlfriend...” he said. Then proceed to talk about his community showing his awareness. That aspect of his personality made you fall for him. He was an observant. His level of awareness was top tier. That is what made him a great quaterback too. 

You wiped off your tears. Overwhelmed. 

---------

You were driving home, Joe was next to you a little drunk. After the ceremony you went to have a great dinner with family and friends. Joe’s future was promising, everyone knew that. He worked so hard to get where he was. You helped him to get into the house. 

“You looked so fucking good in that dress” he said “I can’t stop staring at your ass is a damn blessing” 

“Come on, lets go to the bedroom"

"I'm so lucky, baby" he tried to kiss you, but he tripped over the carpet and almost fell. You caught him midway, he was so heavy you struggled to lay him on the bed.

"Baby, baby, please sleep with me" he begged. "I will, let me take off your clothes" you replied.

"Would you take off yours?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah"

"Wonderful"

"Help me here do you want?" you asked.

He helped to undress himself with clumsy movements. When he was under the sheets with only his underwear and half sleep, you went to the bathroom to removed your make up and clean yourself. You came out only wearing panties and an oversized shirt.

"You look so hot, come here" he said, his face was red, meaning he was still drunk. "Babe, I'm tired, let go sleep, ok?"

"But I want to touch you, we are celebrating!" he said, bothered.

"We can celebrate tomorrow"

He left out an annoyed sigh, and went to sleep. His snores was the only think you could hear.

Reality hit you like a truck, the draft would be in a few months. Joe will be drafted for sure, and then your lives would change forever. You looked at his peaceful face, his expression was relaxed and you loved how vulnerable he looked.

This was your man. He chose you over anyone else, you should trust him.

You leaned on to kiss his cheek, and laid there, watching him sleep.

[liiilyevans]

“i don’t want to go to bed angry.”💞

send me a prompt

This screamed post war romione to me

"I don't want to go to bed angry."

Hermione snapped her book closed as Ron scuffed his foot into the carpet. He was still upset - she could tell by the set of his shoulders - but he was making an effort. Hermione supposed she should make one too, but she could still feel the anger prickling beneath her skin.

It was stupid really, and she knew that. They'd been fighting over where to put the new couch. Ron wanted it back against the window, and Hermione thought it would look better against the wall closest to the kitchen. The argument was all pretext. The real problem was that Ron was killing himself working two jobs, and Hermione was fed up with it.

She'd never considered Ron a workaholic until this moment. He'd be gone for weeks at a time with Harry on Auror missions, and he'd come back bruised and with at least two new scars. The week he was supposed to take to rest, he took to work in his brother's stupid shop. George never said a word to deter him, and Hermione wanted to strangle him for it.

"If you want to put the couch against the wall, I'll put the fucking couch against the wall," he said. He still wouldn't look at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are we going to keep pretending this is about the couch?"

Ron flinched. "What do you want me to say, Hermione? He's my brother."

"And he needs to learn how to do things by himself," she snapped.

"That's harsh," Ron said finally looking at her. His blue eyes were burning. "You don't understand what he's going through. You don't understand what any of us are going through."

Hermione felt like she'd been slapped. While it was true she hadn't lost a member of her family, she still had lost something of her familial relationship with her parents. They'd been furious when she'd restored their memories, and she was still fighting to build back that trust with them. The Weasleys were the closest thing to a family she had now. For Ron to imply that she didn't understand was, quite frankly, insulting.

Hermione snapped her book open again. "Fine, Ron, if you want to work yourself into a coma, you go right ahead. I won't stop you, and I won't be there to save you when you take a jinx to the chest because you're too exhausted to stay awake."

"I think I'm managing just fine," Ron snapped. "Harry and I are just fine without you."

Hermione gave a humorless laugh. "Of course. Right."

Ron threw his arms up in the air then. "I don't want to fight with you about this. I just want to go to bed."

Hermione turned a page angrily in her book. "Then go to bed."

"Not alone!" he burst out.

They'd always been good at arguing. Arguing was a part of communication, she knew, but they'd never been good at actually communicating when they argued. Most the time it lead to Ron's bed, now their bed, and them talking it out quietly afterwards. That wasn't going to be the case tonight, Hermione thought.

"Well, I'm not tired."

Ron flopped down in one of their arm chairs. It had been a gift from her parents, and they'd only given it to them because they'd liked Ron. It had stung when her mother had asked him if he wanted it, rather than herself.

"What do you want me to say then?" he asked. "Because I'm not going to stop working in the shop."

Hermione snapped her book closed once again. "I want you to be safe and to have a normal sleeping routine and to not look like you only get four hours of sleep a week."

"I get more than four hours of sleep," Ron grumbled.

"Barely."

"Can we please just stop talking about this?"

It wasn't productive; he was right on that front.

Crookshanks chose that moment to wonder into the room. He was purring loudly, no doubt looking for attention. With ease, he jumped up into Ron's lap and settled easily on his chest. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Traitor.

"Are you going to come to bed?" Ron asked, as he stroked Crookshanks.

His eyes looked so tired then, the fight gone and only a dull blue remaining. Hermione felt her resolve shrink as well. Besides, she was tired of reading Pegram's theory on cursed items.

"Yeah," she said. She didn't want to fight anymore, had never wanted to fight like this with him, but Ron was always good at pushing her buttons. "As long as we can actually talk about this in the morning."

Ron groaned. "Fine. But you won't change my mind."

Hermione would see about that.

[misshoneyimhomeagain]

Chapter 7 -

Summary: things start to evolve for William and Julia, and one unforgettable night might just have a little influence on their relationship;  

Tags; William NylanderxOfc, soft!William; “We never go out of style” 

Warnings; sadness; talk of infertility; Mild smut (masturbation) 

A/N; so this turned out to be way more emotional than intended; but still tried to add a little bit of humour; I know I’ve taken inspiration in a real life event, but I found it quite fitting for this story’s purpose; hope you enjoy it;  

Words; 5.5K+ 

- 

“You must like me for me” (*) 

The following four days were rather tense for both Julia and William since they had left Raleigh. The absence of communication between them had weighed heavily on their minds, but neither of them had been willing to break the silence first. 

Julia had been a whirlwind of emotions, though. She missed William deeply but was also frustrated by his lack of response to her text. In a way, she felt like the one who had been wronged, but deep down, she was simply afraid that he was simply too pissed at her. 

Meanwhile, for William, the unease had grown to a point where he couldn't bear it any longer. He simply couldn't stand not talking to Julia, especially after all the time they had spent together, and how deep their friendship had become. So, he made the decision to take the initiative and pay a visit to her flat. 

When William rang her doorbell, Julia was both surprised and relieved, and after buzzing him in, she opened the door with a questioning look on her face and softly inquired, “Willy, what are you doing here?” 

William leaned against her doorframe, feeling a bit sheepish. “I don't like it when we're not talking,” he timidly admitted, making Julia gaze at the dark wooden floors of the hallway for a moment.  

“Then why didn't you respond to my text?” she asked, her voice almost trembling. 

William's expression fell as he realised what had happened. “What text?” He asked frowning his brows. 

Julia looked up at him, her eyes widening a bit. “The one I sent Sunday night?” She told, slightly confused. If this was his idea of a joke, she didn’t find it funny. 

“Fuck,” William cursed harshly with a low voice. “My phone was out of power,” he confessed, taking out his phone and searched for the text, which was apparently well hidden in all his messages. “Shit JJ,” he then added, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I haven’t seen this - please believe that.”  

Julia looked intensely at him, her eyes darting from side to side, searching for truth in his. It did seem a little odd that William had simply ignored her like that, but then again, they had had a fight, where she’d accused him of something that wasn’t really his doing. But eventually, she chose to believe him. She knew that William wasn’t the kind of guy to hold grudges, and besides, she wanted to believe him.  

And as she felt a sense of relief washing over her, replacing her anger, she gently offered him a soft smile. “Would you like to come in?" she asked, stepping aside a little to let him enter, to which he nodded. 

As William stepped inside, a quick flashback of their encounter back in August flashed through his mind. It seemed somewhat different now though, but he acknowledged that it was hard to recall all the details, since it had been dark, and his focus had been entirely on Julia that night.  

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” She then inquired with a timid smile. “I was just about to put something together.” 

William returned the gentle look and nodded. “Sure, that sounds great.” 

Julia had initially planned to use her creativity to prepare a simple meal from whatever ingredients she had left in her fridge, which she figured William wouldn't mind. And as she skilfully moved around her kitchen, creating a makeshift meal from leftovers, he couldn't help but admire her culinary prowess. 

"You're really good at this," he complimented her, his eyes following her every move.  

"Thanks," she responded with a warm smile as she chopped and sautéed the ingredients. The smell of fried vegetables and oils filling the air of the small flat.  

And William just couldn’t help but smile as he watched her work her magic. “So, is wine a Thursday night tradition for you?" he playfully asked with a light chuckle, spotting a glass of white wine on the counter. 

"Not always, just mostly when I'm cooking," she winked.  

William then came to stand next to her, and reached for the glass, in order to take a sip. 

“Oi!” Julia exclaimed, "don't down it – it's a proper Chardonnay from Chablis." She offered him a playful smile, earning a light chuckle from William caused by her quick remark, and he went for a smaller sip.  

"It's good; but I didn't know you were into wine," he commented before placing the glass down before he began to wander and scan her home.  

Her place wasn't large, but it was the perfect size for one person. It consisted of one large quadrant: the entrance in one corner, the bathroom in another, connected to the bedroom with a walk-in closet. The bedroom was open to the rest of the space, separated only by a light curtain, and the kitchen occupied the central area. It was in excellent condition, and Julia had stylishly decorated every inch of it. It had a modern feel with a touch of vintage. 

“Oh, you should’ve seen my wine cellar back in Surrey then,” she said stirring the pot of mixed ingredients. 

William smiled as he walked around, taking in all her decorative and collected items. “So, JJ, how old are you exactly?" he then asked curiously.  

“What do you mean?” Julia chuckled as she put a lid on the pot, before joining him and spotted what had triggered his teasing question. “Oh well, I'm 27 on paper, but in spirit? Probably 72.” 

"You have vinyl records!" William stated as he’d noticed her record player and the neatly organised vinyls on her shelf, ranging from The Beatles and Queen to Elton John, Abba, Ed Sheeran, Tina Turner, Harry Styles, and many more. 

"That's actually quite trendy," she exclaimed with a wide grin. "But yes, I'm a bit old-fashioned that way." 

He also noticed wine bottles stocked nicely next to her vintage bar cupboard, which contained high-quality rum, whiskey, and gin, earning a mischievous expression from the Swede.  

"I told you, I'm secretly a 72-year-old man with a great taste for spirits," Julia admitted with a cheeky wink as William closely observed her choice of alcohol. He let out a light chuckle, as he couldn’t help but finding her so incredibly endearing. Julia just always seemed to be true to herself and do whatever she pleased, without too much concern of what other people would think. At least when in regard to beverages.  

They then took a seat on her sofa, patiently waiting for the meal to be ready, and candlelight cast a warm glow across the room, creating a cosy ambiance as the cold November darkness crept in outside. 

"So, you really never received my message?" Julia asked softly, tucking her feet under herself. 

William simply shook his head. "No, I don't know why though, but probably because my phone was dead until I got home. So, I guess I just never got a notification." 

"Well, that actually makes me feel a lot better," she said with a light chuckle. "I thought you were ignoring me." 

William flashed her a great smile. "Don't worry, hjärtat, it takes more than that to get rid of me." 

The two of them shared a laugh, realising that it had been just another silly misunderstanding that had caused a disturbance in their friendship – again. 

"I'm sorry for what I said to you. I know you were just trying to be helpful," Julia admitted, referring to how William had tried to protect her from spending more time with Freddie. 

"It's all good, JJ," he assured her with a friendly smile. “I meant what I said, I just wanted to help." 

"And you did; I was just too stubborn to see it." 

"Wait, you? Stubborn? No way," William joked, and they both burst into laughter once again. 

They continued their conversation for a little while longer, before Julia's alarm went off, signalling that dinner was about ready. William went to take a seat at her small dining table as she served a large pot of pasta with homemade tomato sauce, a chicken breast on the side, along with a creative salad.  

"Lucky that this meal is athlete-friendly, huh?" she quipped as she prepared a plate for William, who simply chuckled. 

"Damn, this smells incredible," he declared with a bright smile, taking in all the delicious smell from the pot. 

"So, I guess I've made it up to your nose then?" Julia teased with a cheeky smile. 

"Hm, yes, I'd say we're even now,” he joked before grabbing his fork and dug in. 

During the meal, they chatted and shared their experiences from the past few days. Nothing particularly significant had happened, except for the Leafs losing to the Vegas Golden Knights in overtime the previous day. A match which Julia had watched with Tyler and Charlie, where Charlie obviously had to leave to meet Auston at his place following the loss to provide “comfort”. William had played exceptionally well despite the loss, and his mood was high, as always. 

"Shit, this was delicious," William complimented as he finished his meal and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on his stomach. "You're an amazing cook – maybe you should have become a chef or something?" 

"Thanks," Julia replied with a smile and leaned back in her seat as well. "Cooking has always been sort of a passionate hobby of mine; but it’s nothing I’d ever want to work with. I don’t like the stress in a kitchen, I just love the simplicity and relaxation at home.” 

William nodded flashing a soft smile. “So, it’s just something you’ve always done by yourself? Hiding your talents,” he winked, making Julia slightly giggle. 

“Actually, it’s something I've always done with my father and grandfather." 

"Really?" He inquired, intrigued to hear more, and she nodded.  

"Yeah, my grandfather was a butcher when he was young, and then later on he became an independent baker. And I guess, my father and I have just always been curious, so he let us help in the kitchen.” 

"Sounds like fun," William smiled. "Are you close with them?" 

Julia nodded lightly. "Yes, well, my grandfather has unfortunately passed away, but I'm quite close with my dad – actually, I’m rather close with my entire family." 

"You have a big family?" 

Again, she nodded, offering him a smile. "I'd say so. And they're all very important to me," she added with a soft tone. 

William smiled as well. "Family is important, so it's nice when you're close with them." 

"Seems like you're quite close with yours as well,” Julia said, letting out a light laughter. She’d noticed how full of joy William sounded when he’d talked about his family, and how much love shone through him whenever they were the topic of their conversation. “You're quite the family person, aren’t you?” 

"Yeah, I mean, we spend a lot of time together, and we often travel a lot, so yeah, I'd consider myself a big family person." 

"Me too." 

A short silence followed, during which they both contemplated the idea of their families. They could sense that this topic had forged a stronger bond in their friendship, as they understood the challenges of being far from their loved ones. 

"I can picture you with a big family,” William then added. “And with cooking skills like these, you'd probably be the best mom ever someday," he lightly teased. 

Julia responded with a small laugh, but it quickly faded as she looked down slightly, trying to hold back any overwhelming emotions. There was a deeply personal matter she usually didn't share with anyone. 

"Maybe," she said softly, "but I'm not so sure I'll ever be a mum." 

"Why not?" William gently inquired. "I mean, you'd probably have to meet a guy first, but that'll happen someday, right?" he added with a light chuckle. 

Julia offered a smile in the best way she could and took a deep breath. This was something significant to her, a secret she didn't broadcast to everyone – not even Charlie knew. 

"I can't... I can’t conceive children of my own," she admitted, her voice low as she looked at William. 

His expression softened, though he was feeling slightly surprised. "I'm so sorry, JJ." 

"It's okay," she reassured him with a friendly smile. "I mean, it wasn't easy to hear when I first got the news, but I've processed it, and I'm feeling better about it now." 

William felt at a loss for words, unsure of how to react, but he also felt a deep need to show his support for his close friend. 

His heart went out to Julia, and he couldn’t help but think about everything she’d been through before coming to Toronto for a fresh start. “But are you sure? Like, how do you know?" he asked, his voice and expression calm and soft.  

"Well, after Ezra proposed, he wanted to start a family right away. So, we made an appointment with a doctor who ran some tests, and the results weren't great," she explained, pausing for a moment. "His numbers were fine, but mine were quite below average." 

"I'm so sorry... is there absolutely no chance at all?" 

Julia smiled slightly. "Well, it's not entirely impossible. But it would require a lot more patience, maybe some extra help, and, well, maybe having a partner with exceptionally strong 'swimmers' rather than just 'fine' ones would also increase the chances," she elaborated, offering a light chuckle. 

William returned her light smile, wanting to do something to ease the situation. But he wasn’t always good at situations like this. Though he was a great friend and often easy to talk to, his own vocabulary didn’t always extend to this kind of sensitive topics. 

"Please don't look at me like that," Julia then chuckled, sensing the awkwardness she had created between them. 

"Like how?" 

"Like I'm a complete lost cause or something," she joked. 

"Well, you are – but that’s for so many other reasons," William teased, and they both shared a moment of laughter. 

"Hmm, that's perhaps a little true," Julia replied playfully. 

"Wait," William suddenly said, his expression changing. "So, that night we... you know... we didn't actually need to use protection?" 

Julia offered him a curious grin. 

"Well, no, but it was probably still the most responsible thing to do, considering we were complete strangers, and neither of us knew each other's... situation," she replied. 

"Well, true, but technically, we didn't have to," William persisted with a cheeky smile, and Julia couldn't contain her amusement. 

"I suppose so – geez, Willy, sometimes, you're such a teenage boy," she joked, and once again, they burst into laughter. 

_ 

Later in the evening, after William had left, Julia found herself lying in her bed, scrolling through her social media and looking at all the photos the two of them had taken together the past month or so. They had created quite a collection by now, photos taken of them together as well as separately. They had become quite a picture-taking duo, capturing everything from their dog walks to their coffee outings, William posing in his stylish outfits and Julia simply strolling through the streets. 

It all brought a smile to her face. 

And the photos of William were undeniably captivating – he even looked, dare she say it, kind of hot? she thought to herself with a soft grin. His playful smirk featured prominently in most of the pictures, and she could almost hear his signature laughter and imagine his cheeky smile as she scrolled through her mobile album. 

That smirk, she thought, letting a smile grow a little more. That grin, that laughter – it all brought her back to the first time they had bumped into each other at the coffeehouse.  And her mind kept wandering to the second time they had met at the bar, where they’d fallen into a deep conversation, which had evolved to a snogging session in the toilet. And then... she couldn’t help but think of the way he had kissed her, touched her, the way he had made her feel so incredibly good. 

And as the memories flooded her mind, her heart skipped a beat... and she slowly felt her hand glide down. Down her tummy, slipping gently under her knickers, and down between her thighs as she closed her eyes and started thinking of that night. The images were still vivid in her memory. The images of his naked body against hers. Softly, she started to circle her clit, letting quiet moans escape her lips. And as she thought back on how good William had felt inside of her, she lightly increased the intensity of her hand, and she started to feel a pleasant knot build up in her lower tummy. She kept circling her fingers, letting herself go, her mind wander, and relax to her lively imagines of William pounding into her sweet warm core; how he’d hit every deep spot, over and over again; and how he’d made her moan out his name and swear words until she came undone, and- 

“Fuck,” she let out an almost silent moan, as she arched her back and reached the high of her climax. 

Lying in her bed she gazed into space, trying to catch her breath, and she felt a warmth rising to her cheeks making her blush. “Shit…” she spoke softly. “I did not just do that…” she whispered to herself. “I really need to get laid…” 

_ 

Saturday, 19th – TOR 5 – BUF 2 

On the upcoming Saturday, Julia excitedly attended yet another home game for the Maple Leafs, proudly sporting her Nylander jersey. It was a significant evening in Toronto as the team paid tribute to the legendary Swedish hockey icon, Börje Salming, who had been a cornerstone of the Maple Leafs for an astonishing 16 seasons, leaving an indelible mark on the sport. 

Börje Salming, celebrated for his extraordinary career, was one of the pioneering European hockey players who had left an enduring impact on the NHL. The ceremony unfolded just before the game against the Buffalo Sabres, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and reverential. It was a time for everyone present to reflect on Salming's remarkable journey, from his humble beginnings in Sweden to his illustrious NHL career. 

However, the occasion was tinged with sadness due to Salming's ALS diagnosis in July. But despite this tough health challenge, he remained an inspiration to all. The ceremony sought to celebrate his remarkable contributions to hockey while acknowledging the adversity he now faced. It brought together teammates, fans, and the entire hockey community to pay tribute to a true legend of the game. 

During the ceremony, Julia observed William skating over to hug Börje and offer his respects to the family. It was a touching moment that hinted at the special place Salming held in William's heart, even if he might never openly admit it. 

And the match that followed was good, with the Leafs securing a satisfying victory at 5-2. 

"That was beautiful," Stephanie remarked, as the events of the night began to wind down. 

"Indeed," Julia smiled in agreement. 

After the match, Julia had joined the significant others and family members to see the players. The mood wasn't as lively and energetic as usual after a win, likely due to the deeply moving event earlier in the evening. And in the hallways of the Scotiabank Arena, partners and family members exchanged hugs and conversations, as Auston came over to Julia. 

“How is she?” he asked softly. 

Julia knew that Charlie and Auston had had a little fight a few days ago, where they hadn’t ended on the best terms; and then Charlie’s period had started, and she just didn’t feel like going out tonight. She had told Julia though, that she wasn’t really angry with Auston, and her frustration had probably had something to do with her bouncing hormones. But Auston didn’t have to know that.  

"She's alright," Julia reassured him with a gentle smile, "but you should probably go and see her. I'm sure she'd appreciate that." 

Auston flashed a smile and simply nodded, before he left.  

As the players slowly came out of their gear and changed into their post-game suits, Julia couldn't spot William anywhere. She exchanged a few words and brief conversations with Mitch, Steph, Mo, and Tessa, before she came across Rasmus. 

"Hey," she greeted the tall Swede with a soft smile. "Have you seen Willy?" 

Julia could sense that all the Swedes had been quite emotional following tonight's event, which was entirely understandable. Börje had been a significant figure in hockey history, especially in Sweden and the rest of Northern Europe. 

Rasmus nodded slightly. "Yeah, he's out shooting a few pucks at the training rink," he explained. 

"Oh," Julia hesitated. "Do you think he'd prefer to be alone?" she asked, her concern evident. 

"That's what he said," Rasmus replied with a small smile. "But I know he'd want you to be there with him, JJ. If anyone, it should be you." 

Julia nodded and returned the smile. "Thanks, Rasmus." 

As she was about to walk past him, Rasmus decided to share more of his thoughts on the matter. 

"You know," he began, "he's not always good at showing his emotions, but he really cares about you, JJ. And I think a part of him just really wants you around." 

Julia nodded again; her heart warmed by Rasmus's words. William truly cared for her, and all she wanted was to repay that care and show him that she was there for him just as much as he was for her. 

"I care about him too," she said softly. "And I'd do anything to support him." 

The two of them exchanged soft smiles as they shared their love and concern for their mutual close friend. 

"It's nice that he has a friend like you," Rasmus added. "I mean, we tease him a lot, but he really likes you, and from what we can see, you're good for him – even if it's just as a friend," he chuckled lightly. 

"Well, as much as I hate to admit it, he's pretty good for me too." 

Once more, they shared a moment of soft amusement before saying their goodbyes, and Julia set off to find William at the players' training rink. 

_

“Since we’re alone, you can show me your heart” 

Navigating the corridors of the arena, Julia’s thoughts were filled with a mix of anticipation and concern for her close friend. 

And as she approached the training rink, she couldn't help but wonder what William was going through. He had a knack for concealing his negative thoughts, but she knew that beneath that tough exterior, he was a person who felt deeply. 

Then she spotted William, alone on the ice, shooting pucks into the net. He looked focused, his movements deliberate and controlled. His presence exuded determination, as if he was trying to channel his emotions into each shot. 

Julia stood there for a moment, watching him in silence, as she could sense that he needed this time alone. But after a while, she decided to approach him. 

She walked towards the edge of the rink and waited for a moment when William retrieved a puck that had strayed too far. And as he skated back, she called out softly, "Willy." 

He glanced in her direction, surprise flashing across his face before it softened into a small smile, as he skated over to the boards and leaned on them, resting his arms on the top. 

"Hey, JJ," he greeted, his voice quiet but warm. 

Julia offered him a gentle smile in return. "Mind some company?" she asked, her tone soft and understanding. 

“I was just about finish,” he said with an almost husky voice, and she nodded. “Wanna walk with me back to the locker room?” his expression was soft and almost nervous.  

And Julia nodded in agreement. "Of course," she replied, her tone gentle. She understood that he’d might not want to talk, but the important part was that she showed him that she was there for him. 

As they began to walk together, the sound of her heels echoed in the empty corridor. The silence between them was comfortable, and Julia gave William the space he needed. She could sense the weight of the evening's emotions on him, and she wanted nothing but to offer him support in her own way. 

"You know, Willy," she gently broke the silence, "it's okay to share you feelings. You don't always have to be the strong one. We all have moments when we need to let it out, and it doesn't make you any less of a person." 

William glanced at her, his eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thanks, JJ. It means a lot." 

They reached the locker room, and William paused at the entrance, turning to face Julia. "I'm really glad you're here. You're a great friend." 

She smiled warmly in return. "Right back at you, Willy. I'll always be here when you need someone to talk to or just to be there." 

William nodded softly. “Wait for me?” he simply asked, and Julia returned the nod, before he entered the locker room.   

While waiting, she took a look at her phone, as she’d received a message from Charlie: 

“Auston’s here, thanks babe ❤️ Please give my best to William!” 

JJ: “Will do, stay safe love 😘 let me know if you need anything.” 

It had been a night filled with emotions, and Julia felt a sense of comfort knowing that her friend wasn’t alone.  

"You ready?" William asked as he emerged from the locker room. 

"Sure," Julia nodded. "That was quite quick," she remarked, offering a smile, to which William chuckled. 

"Not exactly what a guy hopes to hear from a girl," he joked softly, to which she laughed as well. “Come on, let me drive you home.”  

Exiting the arena, they headed towards the car park, however, William suddenly stopped in his tracks as they reached his car. 

"Would you mind driving?" he asked, his lips forming a slightly crooked smile. 

"Seriously? Of course,” Julia replied with a light chuckle. 

And while navigating the Toronto streets, her focus remained on the road, while William comfortably reclined in the passenger seat. Typically, William was the one behind the wheel; it was his preference. However, tonight, he simply wanted to unwind and not dwell on hockey. 

And Julia was the ideal companion for such a moment. Over time, she had become one of his closest and best friends, someone with whom he could truly be himself. Not that William had trouble being authentic, but with Julia, it was just effortless. He didn't need a social battery, nor to maintain a social facade or sustain his laid-back yet energetic persona. 

Throughout the entire ride, words were few, but they didn't need them either. And as she pulled up to her apartment building, William turned towards her. 

"JJ, I..." he started, his voice gentle. "I don't really feel like being alone tonight." 

Julia could sense that it wasn't easy for him to admit, but it warmed her heart that he sought comfort in her, that he felt this at ease in her presence. 

"Want to come up?" she simply asked, and he nodded. 

Once inside her flat, they both shed their coats and shoes, and as William headed towards the bed, Julia couldn't help but appreciate how laid-back and comfortable he was. His innate calmness seemed to cast a soothing spell over everything around him. 

Without exchanging words, Julia fetched some water for both of them before joining William, who had already settled on her bed, gazing into space. She came to lie down beside him, on her side, facing him, and he turned his head to meet her eyes. 

"Thank you, JJ," he spoke softly. 

"Always.” 

He turned to his side, his gaze locked onto hers, and they shared a moment of gentle intimacy. Julia could feel her heart beating, basking in the warm presence of William. Though their connection held no romantic or sexual undertones, the atmosphere around them was light and soothing. 

Then, William broke the silence. "It's times like this, I remember how much I miss my family." 

Julia took a breath and softly reached for his hand, placing it on the pillow between their faces. 

"How so?" she asked. 

"Simply having someone there, someone who knows you well, to come home to and lift your spirits after a day filled with emotions," William explained in a soft, low tone. 

Julia gently intertwined her fingers with his, feeling the embrace of his hand. She wanted to convey that he was with a friend, a safe haven. 

"Me too," she replied, matching his tone. "Sometimes, everything feels so distant. But then I remember that family isn't just about blood relations; it's also about the people we share our happiest and saddest moments with. It's about those who are there for us when we need them most, and who we are there for in return.” She paused for a moment. “And I find it comforting to know that I have such people around me here... that I've built a home in Toronto and forged friendships I can truly trust – it's all quite remarkable, I think." 

William smiled upon hearing Julia's words. To know that this was how she felt about her friends here, the friends she had made through Charlie, the hockey team, and himself, brought warmth to his heart. 

"I think so too," he softly replied. 

They lay there for a moment, sharing smiles, before the weariness of the day overcame William, and he drifted off to sleep. 

Julia, as quietly as possible, got up and made her way to the bathroom. There, she removed her contact lenses, cleansed her face, and changed into her comfortable t-shirt, before she returned to bed, the room now steeped in tranquillity, ready to join William in peaceful slumber. 

_ 

The following morning, Julia awoke by the buzzing of her phone on the nightstand; a text from Charlie saying everything was good, and that she was happy Auston had come by.  

And she couldn't help but smile as she felt William's arm around her. At some point during the night, she had turned around in her sleep, and it seemed that William had closed the gap between them. They were practically spooning, although he still wore the clothes from the previous night. 

Carefully, she tried to slip out of his grasp without waking him, and she quietly made her way to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. 

"Morning," William greeted in a husky morning voice, stirred by the absence of her in bed. 

"Morning," she returned his smile. "Coffee?" 

William nodded, his gaze lingering on her bare legs and the oversized t-shirt that just covered her bottom, the tattoo on her thigh once again reminded him of their intimate night together. But the then shook his head, and offered a smile as she offered him a cup of coffee. 

"I didn't know you wore glasses?" he remarked, noticing her light golden, circular glasses. 

"Well, I guess that just means there's still more to me that you don't know," she teased. 

"I suppose," he chuckled. "They look good on you," he complimented as they sat down at her table. 

"Thanks, Willy.” 

There was a short moment of silence between them. 

"So, thank you for last night," he said with a soft smile. "It meant a lot to me." 

"Of course, I know you'd do the same for me," Julia replied, taking a sip of her coffee. 

"And also," William added. "I wanted to ask you for a favour –" Julia looked at him with mild intrigue. "Would you be willing to look after Pablo and Banksy while I'm away on the road?" 

Julia's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "Absolutely," she chuckled. 

[cravingbro]

Photo Strips

siblings oneshot au : 1,6k words — slice of life, love hate relationship, city walk, quality time, public argument, childish, lots of sarcasm.

My brother was queuing for our chocolate ice cream at the cashier, while I stood in front of the glass facade, facing outside where I could see a photo booth across the street. Every time I looked at him, his eyes were always pinned onto his phone so I could not tell him how much I wanted to go to that photo booth. Even when I waved, he did not see me. Others did. And that sucks.

When we finally had our ice cream, I just went silence. I had no energy left to communicate nor to receive the possible never-ending roasting session from him if I stated my wish. So I just ate my ice cream without zero eye contact.

“You should’ve joined Mom. You might get a new dress or something,” he uttered, followed with an annoying pout. For sure I knew he was not welcoming me that day, so I replied, “The fuck you want me to do? I wanted to stay at home and mom dragged me out. Now she’s leaving me with you for a while, and it’s suddenly my fault?”

“I could’ve talk to my friends if you’re not clinging around me, demanding for chocolate ice cream, pulling me here and there, like gosh … give me a short break. You’re putting me … in awkward position,” he mumbled with such serious expression. He could have literally told me to stay away for a while if he really wanted to talk to his friend or his crush or whoever he saw, but he chose to fight me instead when all he did was not communicating his will at all.

“Go to talk to your friend then. I can handle myself alone,” I raised my voice as I tried to control my anger since we were in public place.

“If you’re gone, Mom’s gonna blame me, so … no,” he said while shaking his head gently. No sign of guilt drawn on his face and it so sickening to see him acting like a total jerk.

“You’re so annoying. You’re always annoying! Why are you my brother? I didn’t ask for any of this shit. Do you even want an ice cream? Ugh—“

“I bought these ice creams and finish it—“

“But it was my idea to buy chocolate ice cream,” I pointed at myself as my eyes opened wide. Meanwhile he sighed and replied, “Yeah … and I said cool. Although I never plan to eat ice cream today.”

“You hate me so much, don’t you? I hate you too!” I whispered as well as emphasizing the word hate. If he was not into my idea, how could he said yes yet still complained afterward? I was so mad that looking at his face for longer than a second might turned me into a Hulk. So later when I finished my ice cream, I immediately left the ice cream shop while he followed me right behind.

“Do you want something else?” he shouted and checked his phone at the same time. I, who was a few steps forward, looked over and raised a middle finger up, then shouted, “No!”

“I wanna go take photo— there … a photo booth across the street, you sure you won’t join?” His words made me stop walking, but I was already annoyed so I could not say yes right away. “You always collect strips from photo booth. Let’s go there!” he added as he came and grabbed my wrist.

“Why?” I asked. He just gave a confusing wide smile and wink which got me jokingly slapping his cheek right after. “Can you at least say sorry first?” I demanded.

“But I’m not sorry for what I said back then. Should I apologize just to make you feel better? How about me?” he rolled his eyes as he spoke.

“You’re so selfish,” I protested, followed with a deep sigh.

“You have no idea how selfless I have been all these years after you were born. Don’t say that,” he stated.

“What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow as we walked closer to the photo booth. “You could’ve say something like … I wanna greet my friend for a few minutes, can you wait here— or I don’t know, you tell me … instead of grumping like a boy—“

“You wouldn’t allow me—“

“Oh, come on! I’m not a kid anymore, Jung Jaehyun! I can give you few minutes if that’s what you need,” I raised my voice but then ended my sentence in whisper since people silently looked at us. Meanwhile he sharpened his eyes as a sign of doubt. Later he shook his head, disagreed with my statement to the core it seems.

“Where’s your friend now? Let’s greet them before we take photo, how about that?”

“But they’re on the other side of—“

“So what?! You wanna see them so much anyway, what’s wrong with walking back and forth? I’m fine with it. I had my ice cream at least,” I rambled while pushing him away from the photo booth which was steps away from us.

“No no no, photo first, friends later. It’s okay,” he took turn to push me towards the photo booth. I gave him a frown and judgmental side-eye, so he added, “Alright, I’m not mad at you anymore. We’re good now.”

He tried to pull me in to the photo booth after he paid for two strips, but then I pulled him out instead. He immediately shouted, “What?”

“Wait here. I don’t wanna take photos with you,” I whined as I stepped inside by myself. He rolled his eyes before he turned away and looked at our surrounding. “You bee—“

“Bitch? I’ll tell Mom that you called me bitch,” I cut him off right as I closed the curtain before he could respond. I heard him grunted while I took my own photos. To be honest, I felt at ease whenever I annoyed him. Maybe I do have revenge issue. Maybe it was just my toxic trait I developed by growing up as his sister, but it felt good. So I kept doing it.

“Can you pay for another strip? I wanna do a different template,” I asked with overly cute voice. He stood outside looking pissed off. His gaze were intense but he eventually handed me his phone.

“You’re not coming in?” I giggled. He rolled his eyes again then replied, “I’ll ruin the photo anyway.”

“What do you mean, Bro? You’re the Nation’s High School Crush of The Year—“

“Oh, fuck … not this bullshit again,” he yelled while I dragged him into the photo booth. Fortunately, he just obeyed me like he usually does. He even threw a big smile whenever the countdown started. Although the smile was gone split seconds after, replaced with sharp glares.

“See? We look good,” I complimented the strips as I stared at it. Later I gave him one of each strip I took and kept the other one in my wallet. It took quite a while before he kept his photo strips in his wallet.

“Let’s go see your friend. I hope they’re still around,” I said as I dragged him out of the photo booth. He yelled gibberish as we walked out, yet he did not try to stop me at all. He let me pull him by grabbing his index finger. I could saw his thin smile on the corner of his lips which I did not understand. Why would he keep yelling and annoying to me if he looks like he enjoy this?

“Explain that smile,” I demanded, pretending I was a master and my brother was a slave. My brother, however, just chuckled before he answered, “What to explain? That I look kinda satisfied after I’m madly mad at you?” I nodded and he bursted out laughing right away.

“You need a younger sis or bro to understand. I can’t explain—“

“Hey!” I screamed which got him covered my mouth right away.

“Stop it, hey! They’re gonna think you’re in danger,” he whispered as he embraced me out of nowhere. I supposed he needed to convince those eyes that were silently starring at us if we were actually not in dangerous situation.

“Oh My God, why is it so hard to be your brother?” he complained not so long after.

“I don’t understand— no, I never understand your doings, like … you’re just so weird. One second you hate me, the next second you care so much, later on you just pissing me off like I’m your personal entertainment,” I yelled while he gently stroked my hair and immediately replied, “You are. Yes. Exactly. You’re my personal entertainment. God damn it, you’re so right.”

“Hey, Jae,” a girl shouted from across the street. My brother froze immediately as he whispered, “Shit.”

“Going on a date with your girlfriend now? So cool,” the other stated as they all crossed the road.

“Ugh, well …,” my brother shrugged without trying to correct his friend’s statement. So I locked my eyes on him the whole time just to watch his micro expression while he was chit-chatting. At the same time, he tightened his grip over my wrist which he hid behind his back. I had no idea why he did that until one of his guy friend said, “Just in case you break up with Jaehyun, call me, okay? You look good.”

I did not respond except giving him a sharp glare until all of his friends were gone. My brother waved at them while he whispered, “Now you know why I don’t want you to meet my friends, right?”

“That’s your friend? They suck!” I protested and he nodded right away.

“I know, but look at the girls— that are always with them— I mean if I could date …,” he uttered but then stopped midway as he scratched his eyebrow and sighed.

“You’re so pathetic, Bro. You need therapy,” I stated as I patted his back then walked away.

[wyndford-dekarios-majima]

looks at you with my big autistic eyes. its my turn to enable blorbotalking can you tell me more about gale & your relationship bc he seems like such a silly pathetic guy

this ask got me out of bed so i could properly type my thoughts out. alright cracks my knuckles (spoilers for the story of bg3 under the cut/suicide mention/sex mention at one point sorry) (not joking this is long) (you give me a vague description of beltboy and then you ask me 'hey so whos your new guy' and i become an unskippable cutscene.)

GODS he really does set himself up as pathetic. he probably doesn't realise it. but your first interaction with him is pulling him out of a malfunctioning portal (which i affectionately call gale% in all my playthroughs) because he's usually better at magic but just this once he got stuck on the other side please pull him out so niceys. and then he talks so so much. whenever you're in the grove and do something nice where the refugees are concerned he's like haha! this reminds me of when i was younger! this reminds me of when i stopped a bar fight! and then also the "fuck that woman" dialogue node when you save a child from getting killed by a death viper because she stole something and gave it back. when you first long rest he tells you to go to hell and then immediately expounds upon his worries concerning the fact that you're all going to DIE (did i mention there's a parasite in everyone's head. there's a parasite in everyone's head). AND HE ALSO INTRODUCES HIMSELF WHEN ASKED WITH HIS TINDER PROFILE. "i like cats and wine and long walks" shut uppp. bites him

and then he eventually opens up to you about something very important to him; he has a condition that makes him eat magic items and he would be very grateful if you could help! he hasn't told anyone besides his cat about this! he Trusts You!!!!! and then you give him a magic item a bit later and GODS tim downie did a wonderful job because the genuine relief in his "thank you" sends me for a loop every time. and with the first magic item hes like mm yes good. with the second he goes ahh mm still ouchies this is worrying. and with the third hes like ok this really isnt doing anything anymore. i have to open up about my condition further.

THEN HE JUST STRAIGHT UP TELLS YOU HE USED TO FUCK THE GODDESS OF MAGIC. AND TRIED TO GIVE HER A GIFT TO GET HER TO PAY ATTENTION TO HIM BEYOND JUST LEADING HIM ON. (THIS BIT INFURIATES ME BECAUSE HE WAS HER CHOSEN AND WITH EVERY OTHER CHOSEN YOU ENCOUNTER IN THIS GAME THE GODS THAT CHOSE THEM ARE VERY CLEAR ABOUT WHAT THEY WANT AND WHAT POWERS THEY GET IN RETURN BUT MYSTRA LITERALLY JUST WORE GALE OUT LIKE A TOY AND DIDN'T COMMUNICATE SHIT AND DROPPED HIM AS SOON AS HE CROSSED A BOUNDARY HE DIDN'T KNOW WAS THERE!!!! I NEED TO KILL MYSTRA.) and this attempted gift now lays in his chest. he basically has been carrying a nuclear bomb around this whole time. in his chest. we learn later that the gift never could have worked because it's not made of the "right magic" (grr) but for now gale's just like "ok. i told you. now if you want me to go kill myself i will" and that basically becomes his entire character for the rest of the game DSFJH he will kill himself at the slightest provocation (this is untrue but you Do get a skill that allows him to kill himself and game over you soon after this so. LOL)

im just gonna attach a video of the next big moment bc i remembered to record it! basically you save the grove of refugees and they throw a party for you and gale asks to meet you after to show you "something magical" and it isn't his penis-

now eventually you run into an old man. which old man? this universe's equivalent of gandalf the fucking grey, gale's old mentor. he comes to tell gale that mystra told him to kill himself. and then gives him the means to kill himself with the orb in his chest. this is the equivalent of your ex giving you nuclear launch codes and telling you to kill yourself by standing in the vicinity of where they want you to launch the nukes. gale is understandably upset but genuinely considers killing himself. because maybe it's what fate wants him to do maybe this is how he Should end. and he's pretty much made up his mind. and it's the player's job to convince him not to.

this culminates with him making his ideal night. because it might be his last one alive. and he chooses to spend it with you. you, who has become so vastly important to him. this is the moment he confesses. this is the moment where i burst into tears because jesus christ tim downie is a good actor. and jesus christ im in love with gale of waterdeep. he gently takes you by the hand, shows you his home in waterdeep via magic. describes what the perfect night with you would be. shows you a slice of his world. laments that you aren't home, or otherwise he would have courted you properly. tells you about his favourite books, how he often stays up reading until the dawn.

then he does have sex with you. but it's either normalstyle or fucking insane symbolism laden bullshit in space. and the symbolism bullshit is so . its so. i should record it some time.

ANYways after that you rock up to where mystra told him to kill himself and you say NO i love you and he goes, verbatim, "no matter what happens, i choose you." and. i keel over and die and burst into tears. and then you make it to act three and you're in the city !!! yippee! and you get to do a love test w him :] and witness a coronation! and somewhere in there you meet his tressym, tara, which i also have a video of-

and THEN you get to go SHOPPING WITH HIM! YOU GO SHOPPING WHEEE he needs a forbidden book to learn about the crown mentioned in the video. and you can either break in from the office of the head librarian or kill the wizard that runs the shop in his own home and work your way down to the book vault. and basically gale wants to take the crown and become a better god than the ones now. i also have a video for this. sorry for so many videos but i think of these moments and my brain fucking turns off. the video is stuttery and jittery unfortunately :( but i cannot change this.

and then after this mystra finally comes into contact with him like "hey i can get rid of that bomb if you give me the crown" and its like HEY WHY ONLY MENTION THIS NOW. HUH. HEY WHY ONLY BRING THIS UP NOW. i need to kill mystra. anyways then you go off and save the world!! and the 'final kiss' tears me to pieces. but i don't have a video of it bc the One time i went to the endgame i didn't think to record it. but then!! after the game he proposes and takes you home to visit his Really Big Family and have a big fat greek wedding. and so basically im in love with him. thank you for your time

[heartbrokenhusbandkc]

Hi Baby. I’m laying down next to Oliver at the moment. I am having a panic attack. It’s been going for more than an hour. I feel like I can’t breathe.

My heart is going 90 to nothing. Well, I haven’t seen you since May 26. I think. I just want you to know that you’re fine with her without me.. it’s not the end of the world. Yesterday you said you were going to call every day but you didn’t today you texted a couple times even asked how I was today which is more than has happened the other day since you left, I was actually pretty shocked when you texting me. I’m glad you texted. At the end of the day I loved being your husband when you were happy. It was hard being the guy you didn’t want to be around. I wonder why you chose not to call. Texts were massively impersonal today compared to yesterday. I’m glad we are talking texting again. Even if it’s not going to work out ultimately. Look at us being civil adults.

This b6 has got to be the longest panic attack I’ve ever had. It’s really hanging on.  I have all of them on shoulder Jaden, the other and feelings tucked up against the top of my shoulder. I do anything if it was you lay on my chest and me lay on yours. It’s all going to be OK. Gonna be OK. I promise. He said you were going to take Hunter to tonight, you left my messages unopened like you used to bother me, I only messaged you 30 seconds after you stop texting me and you still wouldn’t open it  I can’t help but think you worked an overnight. Your ex-boyfriend lives in that town. And he used to be petrified scared to take Hunter to an appointment. You couldn’t even make an appointment. And now you have to go anywhere. In my mind I feel like my notifications are silenced, Hunter is asleep watching TV at somebody’s house and you’re doing more than just laying with somebody. I feel like there is somebody else lying over and over and over again. Truth be told I’ll never know. I suppose it doesn’t matter. People that are a certain way can’t ever have another person know that they did anything wrong. I’m the opposite I like telling on myself and I’m asking for forgiveness and I’m trying to learn from my mistakes, but I can’t imagine if it were asleep by now you wouldn’t answer my text unless there’s another man. In Kirksville a lot I don’t know if you’re dating that tattoo artist or Fisher ex-boyfriend or somebody else I don’t actually know that for sure although I’m pretty positive go to your mom for three days before you leave and shave your pussy and you would go get a manicure and pedicure and you would leave. Just looking fucking amazing and stay gone as long as you fucking before you had to come back and people don’t shave the pussy and get all pretty to go see their mom. Answer hard to sit here and think about the person that we love and you’re married to another person. Had that every day since she left. I would like it if you cared like I cared I know your eye you know the dogs overnight no need for another person. That must be a very secure feeling. I am very jealous that you haven’t either that or you honestly don’t care a hug man I don’t die. I don’t interact with anybody on a physical level so 00 touches all he’s been very helpful for me for sure but human touch interaction and communication isa lot more helpful. My therapist sent me a breed out on the attachment disorder that I have and I am pretty positive and they call it the anxious there’s another word. It’s like preoccupied, anxious attachment, and if I had to guess I would say that you are dismissive attachment style.

Attachment Styles And How They Affect Adult Relationships

By

Stephanie Huang

Updated on

January 23, 2024

Attachment styles refer to patterns of bonding that people learn as children and carry into their adult relationships. They’re typically thought to originate from the type of care one received in their earliest years.

The concept involves one’s confidence in the attachment figure’s availability as a secure base from which one can freely explore the world when not in distress and a safe haven from which one can seek support, protection, and comfort in times of distress.

What are the attachment styles?

1. Secure Attachment: Securely attached individuals are comfortable with intimacy and can balance dependence and independence in relationships.

2. Preoccupied Attachment (Anxious in Children): Individuals with this attachment style crave intimacy and can be overly dependent and demanding in relationships.

3. Dismissive Attachment (Avoidant in Children): This style is characterized by a strong sense of self-sufficiency, often to the point of appearing detached. Individuals with dismissive attachment value their independence highly and may seem uninterested in close relationships.

4. Fearful Attachment (Disorganized in Children): Individuals with a fearful attachment style desire close relationships and fear vulnerability. They may behave unpredictably in relationships due to their internal conflict between a desire for intimacy and fear of it.

The four attachment styles include Secure, Preoccupied (Anxious in children), Dismissive (Avoidant in children), and Fearful (Disorganized in children).

In humans, the behavioral attachment system does not conclude in infancy or even childhood. Instead, it is active throughout the lifespan, with individuals gaining comfort from physical and mental representations of significant others (Bowlby, 1969).

There appears to be a continuity between early attachment styles and the quality of later adult romantic relationships.

This idea is based on the internal working model, where an infant’s primary attachment forms a model (template) for future relationships.

Attachment Styles

Attachment styles are expectations people develop about relationships with others, and the first attachment is based on the relationship individuals had with their primary caregiver when they were infants.

Attachment styles describe people’s comfort and confidence in close relationships, fear of rejection and yearning for intimacy, and preference for self-sufficiency or interpersonal distance.

Attachment styles comprise cognitions relating to both the self (‘Am I worthy of love’) and others (‘Can I depend on others during times of stress’).

Adult attachment styles derived from past relationship histories are conceptualized as internal working models.

Here, individuals can hold either a positive or negative belief of self and a positive or negative belief of others, thus resulting in one of four possible adult attachment styles.

The model of others can also be conceptualized as the avoidant dimension of attachment, which corresponds to the level of discomfort a person feels regarding psychological intimacy and dependency.

Alternatively, the model of self can be conceptualized as the anxiety dimension of attachment, relating to beliefs about self-worth and whether or not one will be accepted or rejected by others (Collins & Allard, 2001).

Bartholomew and Horowitz proposed four adult attachment styles regarding working models of self and others, including secure, dismissive, preoccupied, and fearful.

Secure Attachment Characteristics

Securely attached adults tend to hold positive self-images and positive images of others, meaning that they have both a sense of worthiness and an expectation that other people are generally accepting and responsive.

As Children

Secure attachment occurs because the mother meets the emotional needs of the infant.

Children with a secure attachment use their mother as a safe base to explore their environment. They are moderately distressed when their mother leaves the room (separation anxiety) and seek contact with their mother when she returns.

They also show moderate stranger anxiety; they show some distress when approached by a stranger.

As Adults

Adults who demonstrate a secure attachment style value relationships and affirm the impact of relationships on their personalities.

They display a readiness to recall and discuss attachments that suggest much reflection regarding previous relationships.

Secure adults display openness regarding expressing emotions and thoughts with others and are comfortable with depending on others for help while also being comfortable with others depending on them (Cassidy, 1994).

Notably, many secure adults may, in fact, experience negative attachment-related events, yet they can objectively assess people and events and assign a positive value to relationships in general.

Secure lovers characterized their most important romantic relationships as happy and trusting. They can support their partners despite the partners’ faults.

Their relationships also tend to last longer. Secure lovers believe that although romantic feelings may wax and wane, romantic love will never fade.

Through the statistical analysis, secure lovers were found to have had warmer relationships with their parents during childhood.

Preoccupied Attachment Characteristics

Individuals with a preoccupied attachment (called anxious when referring to children) hold a negative self-image and a positive image of others, meaning that they have a sense of unworthiness but generally evaluate others positively.

As such, they strive for self-acceptance by attempting to gain approval and validation from their relationships with significant others. They also require higher levels of contact and intimacy in relationships with others.

As Children

Children with this type of attachment are clingy to their mother in a new situation and are not willing to explore – suggesting that they do not have trust in her.

They are extremely distressed when separated from their mother. When the mother returns, they are pleased to see her and go to her for comfort, but they cannot be comforted and may show signs of anger towards her.

This type of attachment style occurs because the mother sometimes meets the infant’s needs and sometimes ignores their emotional needs, i.e., the mother’s behavior is inconsistent.

As Adults

Such individuals crave intimacy but remain anxious about whether other romantic partners will meet their emotional needs. Autonomy and independence can make them feel anxious.

Additionally, they are preoccupied with dependency on their own parents and still actively struggle to please them.

In addition, they can become distressed should they interpret recognition and value from others as being insincere or failing to meet an appropriate level of responsiveness.

Their attachment system is prone to hyperactivation during times of stress, emotions can become amplified, and overdependence on others is increased (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2003).

Preoccupied lovers characterize their most important romantic relationships by obsession, desire for reciprocation and union, emotional highs and lows, and extreme sexual attraction and jealousy.

Preoccupied lovers often believe that it is easy for them to fall in love, yet they also claim that unfading love is difficult to find.

Compared with secure lovers, preoccupied lovers report colder relationships with their parents during childhood.

Anxious attachment is also known as insecure resistant or anxious ambivalent.

Dismissive Attachment Characteristics

Dismissive attachment style is demonstrated by adults with a positive self-image and a negative image of others. Their internal working model is based on an avoidant attachment established during infancy.

As Children

Children with an avoidant attachment do not use the mother as a safe base; they are not distressed on separation from their caregiver and are not joyful when the mother returns. They show little stranger anxiety.

This type of attachment occurs because the mother ignores the emotional needs of the infant.

As Adults

They prefer to avoid close relationships and intimacy with others to maintain a sense of independence and invulnerability. This means they struggle with intimacy and value autonomy and self-reliance (Cassidy, 1994).

Dismissive-avoidant adults deny experiencing distress associated with relationships and downplay the importance of attachment in general, viewing other people as untrustworthy.

According to Dr. Julie Smith, a clinical psychologist, these are the signs of an avoidant attachment style in adult relationships:

1. When your partner seeks intimacy with you, the barriers go up. The more they try to get close, the more you pull back.

2. You hold back on starting new relationships because trusting people is so hard.

3. You sometimes end relationships to gain a sense of freedom.

4. You keep your partner at arm’s length emotionally because it feels safer, but they often accuse you of being distant.

Dismissive lovers are characterized by fear of intimacy, emotional highs and lows, and jealousy. They are often unsure of their feelings toward their romantic partner, believing that romantic love can rarely last and that it is hard for them to fall in love (Hazan & Shaver, 1987).

Proximity seeking is appraised as unlikely to alleviate distress resulting in deliberate deactivation of the attachment system, inhibition of the quest for support, and commitment to handling distress alone, especially distress arising from the failure of the attachment figure to be available and responsive (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2003).

Dismissive individuals have learned to suppress their emotions at the behavioral level, although they still experience emotional arousal internally (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2005).

This has negative outcomes in terms of cutting themselves off strong feelings, whether their own or others, thus influencing their experiences of romantic relationships.

Fearful Attachment Characteristics

Adults with a fearful-avoidant attachment style (also referred to as disorganized) hold a negative model of self and also a negative model of others, fearing both intimacy and autonomy.

As Children

They display attachment behaviors typical of avoidant children, becoming socially withdrawn and untrusting of others.

The behavior of a fearful-avoidant child is very disorganized, hence why it is also known as disorganized attachment.

If the child and caregiver were to be separated for any amount of time, on the reunion, the child would act conflicted. They may initially run towards their caregiver but then seem to change their mind and either run away or act out.

In the eyes of a child with a fearful avoidant attachment, their caregivers are untrustworthy.

Children with a fearful avoidant attachment are at risk of carrying these behaviors into adulthood if they do not receive support to overcome this. They may struggle to feel secure in any relationship if they do not get help for their attachment style.

As Adults

“Like dismissing avoidant, they often cope with distancing themselves from relationship partners, but unlike dismissing individuals, they continue to experience anxiety and neediness concerning their partner’s love, reliability, and trustworthiness” (Schachner, Shaver & Mikulincer, 2003, p. 248).

A fearful avoidant prefers casual relationships and may stay in the dating stage of the relationship for a prolonged period as this feels more comfortable for them.

This is not always because they want to, but because they fear getting closer to someone.

A study found that those with a fearful avoidant attachment style are likely to have more sexual partners and higher sexual compliance than other attachment styles (Favez & Tissot, 2019).

They may prefer to have more sexual partners as a way to get physically close to someone without having to also be emotionally vulnerable to them – thus meeting their need for closeness.

They could also be more sexually compliant due to having poorer boundaries and learning in childhood that their boundaries do not matter. It is important to remember that this is not the case for all fearful avoidants.

A partner with this attachment style may prefer to keep their partner at a distance so that things do not get too emotionally intense.

They may be reluctant to share too much of themselves to protect themselves from eventual hurt. If the relationship gets too deep or they are asked to share personal stories, the fearful-avoidant may shut down rapidly.

It is common for those with a fearful attachment style to have grown up in a household that is very chaotic and toxic. As such, the fearful-avoidant may expect that their romantic relationships as adults should also be chaotic.

If they are in a relationship with someone secure and calm, they may be suspicious of why this is. They may believe something must be wrong and may challenge their partner or create a problem to make the relationship more unsettled but familiar to them.

They tend to always expect something bad to happen in their relationship and will likely find any reason to damage the relationship so they do not get hurt.

They may blame or accuse their partner of things they have not done, threaten to leave the relationship, or test their partner to see if this makes them jealous. All these strategies may cause their partner to consider ending the relationship.

Continuity Hypothesis

According to John Bowlby (1969), later relationships are likely to be a continuation of early attachment styles (secure and insecure) because the behavior of the infant’s primary attachment figure promotes an internal working model of relationships, which leads the infant to expect the same in later relationships.

In other words, there will be continuity between early attachment experiences and later relationships. This is known as the continuity hypothesis.

According to the continuity hypothesis, experiences with childhood attachment figures are retained over time and used to guide perceptions of the social world and future interactions with others.

The attachment styles we develop as children through interactions with primary caregivers often persist into adulthood and influence our expectations, emotions, and behaviors in romantic relationships. Specifically, secure, anxious, and avoidant attachment styles tend to be continuous from infancy into adulthood romantic attachments.

Romantic Relationships

Attachment theory, developed by Bowlby to explain emotional bonding between infants and caregivers, has implications for understanding romantic relationships.

There appears to be a continuity between early attachment styles and the quality of later adult romantic relationships. This idea is based on the internal working model, where an infant’s primary attachment forms a model (template) for future relationships.

The internal working model influences a person’s expectation of later relationships thus affects his attitudes towards them. In other words there will be continuity between early attachment experiences and later relationships.

Adult relationships are likely to reflect early attachment style because the experience a person has with their caregiver in childhood would lead to the expectation of the same experiences in later relationships.

This is illustrated in Hazan and Shaver’s love quiz experiment. They conducted a study to collect information on participants’ early attachment styles and attitudes toward loving relationships. They found that those securely attached as infants tended to have happy, lasting relationships.

On the other hand, insecurely attached people found adult relationships more difficult, tended to divorce, and believed love was rare. This supports the idea that childhood experiences have a significant impact on people’s attitudes toward later relationships.

The continuity hypothesis is accused of being reductionist because it assumes that people who are insecurely attached as infants would have poor-quality adult relationships. This is not always the case. Researchers found plenty of people having happy relationships despite having insecure attachments. Therefore, the theory might be an oversimplification.

Brennan and Shaver (1995) discovered that there was a strong association between one’s own attachment type and the romantic partner’s attachment type, suggesting that attachment style could impact one’s choice of partners.

To be more specific, the study found that a secure adult was most likely to be paired with another secure adult, while it was least likely for an avoidant adult to be paired with a secure adult; when a secure adult did not pair with a secure partner, he or she was more likely to have an anxious-preoccupied partner instead.

Moreover, whenever an avoidant or anxious adult did not pair with a secure partner, he or she was more likely to end up with an avoidant partner; an anxious adult was unlikely to be paired with another Anxious adult.

Adult attachment style also impacts how one behaves in romantic relationships (jealousy, trust, proximity-seeking, etc.) and how long these relationships can last, as discussed in earlier paragraphs about Hazan and Shaver’s (1987) findings.

These are, in turn, related to overall relationship satisfaction. Brennan and Shaver (1995) found that inclining toward a secure attachment type was positively correlated with one’s relationship satisfaction, whereas being either more avoidant or anxious was negatively associated with one’s relationship satisfaction.

Regarding attachment-related behaviors within relationships, being inclined to seek proximity and trust others was positively correlated with one’s relationship satisfaction.

Being self-reliant, ambivalent, jealous, clingy, easily frustrated towards one’s partner, or insecure is generally negatively correlated with one’s relationship satisfaction.

The attachment style and related behaviors of one’s partners were also found to impact one’s relationship satisfaction. Not surprisingly, having a Secure partner increases one’s relationship satisfaction.

However, an avoidant partner was the only type of partner that seemed to contribute negatively towards one’s relationship satisfaction, while an Anxious partner had no significant impact in this aspect.

The partner’s inclination to seek proximity and trust others increased one’s satisfaction, while one’s partner’s ambivalence and frustration towards oneself decreased one’s satisfaction.

Parenting Style

There is evidence that attachment styles may be transmitted between generations.

Research indicates an intergenerational continuity between adult attachment types and their children, including children adopting the parenting styles of their parents. People tend to base their parenting style on the internal working model, so the attachment type tends to be passed on through generations of a family.

Main, Kaplan, and Cassidy (1985) found a strong association between the security of the adults’ working model of attachment and that of their infants’, with a particularly strong correlation between mothers and infants (vs. fathers and infants).

Additionally, the same study also found that dismissive adults were often parents to avoidant infants. In contrast, preoccupied adults were often parents to resistant/ambivalent infants, suggesting that how adults conceptualized attachment relationships had a direct impact on how their infants attached to them.

An alternative explanation for continuity in relationships is the temperament hypothesis which argues that an infant’s temperament affects how a parent responds and so may be a determining factor in infant attachment type. The infant’s temperament may explain their issues (good or bad) with relationships in later life.

Mental Health

A new study published in the British Journal of Clinical Psychology sheds light on how our attachment styles affect our mental health and behaviors during difficult times like the COVID-19 pandemic.

Using advanced statistical techniques, researchers found that people with insecure attachment styles (especially anxious and fearful-avoidant attachments) suffered more depression, anxiety, and loneliness than their securely attached peers.

The researchers surveyed over 1300 UK adults at two time points between April and August 2020 to understand connections between attachment styles, adherence to social distancing guidelines, and mental health. They used cutting-edge causal modeling methods to estimate the likely causal effects.

The results showed that anxious and fearful-avoidant participants had around 5-6% higher depression and anxiety, and were 17-18% lonelier than secure individuals.

Over time, they maintained these elevated mental health symptoms while secure participants’ levels decreased. Greater loneliness explains the poorer mental health of insecure groups.

Avoidant participants were less likely to follow social distancing rules than secure individuals, although the effect size was small. Attachment style did not predict mental health changes from timepoints 1 to 2.

The takeaway?

Our attachment style is a risk factor for worse mental health crises during difficult collective experiences like lockdowns. Insecure individuals are more prone to loneliness driving their anxiety and depression.

The study highlights the need for targeted interventions to alleviate loneliness and promote security.

A limitation is the use of categorical attachment measures, but the advanced statistics provide compelling evidence attachment causally influences our mental health and behaviors during COVID-19.

Internal Working Models

• The social and emotional responses of the primary caregiver (usually a parent) provide the infant with information about the world and other people and how they view themselves as individuals.

• For example, the extent to which an individual perceives himself/herself as worthy of love and care and information regarding the availability and reliability of others.

• John Bowlby (1969) referred to this knowledge as an internal working model, which begins as a mental and emotional representation of the infant’s first attachment relationship and forms the basis of an individual’s attachment style.

• The attachment continuity hypothesis states that the attachment style formed in infancy between child and caregiver remains relatively stable over time and continues to influence attachment behaviors in future close relationships.

• Romantic relationships are likely to reflect early attachment style because the experience a person has with their caregiver in childhood would lead to the expectation of the same experiences in later relationships, such as parents, friends, and romantic partners (Bartholomew and Horowitz, 1991).

• However, there is evidence that attachment styles are fluid and demonstrate fluctuations across the lifespan (Waters, Weinfield, & Hamilton, 2000).

• Other researchers have proposed that rather than a single internal working model, which is generalized across relationships, each type of relationship comprises a different working model. This means a person could be securely attached to their parents but insecurely attached in romantic relationships.

• Researchers have proposed that working models are interconnected within a complex hierarchical structure (Collins & Read, 1994).

• For example, the highest-level model comprises beliefs and expectations across all types of relationships, and lower-level models hold general rules about specific relations, such as romantic or parental, underpinned by models specific to events within a relationship with a single person.

How Attachment Style Is Measured

Children: Ainsworth’s Strange Situation

Ainsworth proposed the ‘sensitivity hypothesis,’ which states that the more responsive the mother is to the infant during their early months, the more secure their attachment will be.

To test this, she designed the ‘Strange Situation’ to observe attachment security in children within the context of caregiver relationships.

The child and mother experience a range of scenarios in an unfamiliar room. The procedure involves a series of eight episodes lasting approximately 3 minutes each, whereby a mother, child, and stranger are introduced, separated, and reunited.

Mary Ainsworth classified infants into one of three attachment styles; insecure avoidant (‘A’), secure (‘B’), or insecure ambivalent (‘C’).

A fourth attachment style, disorganized, was later identified (Main & Solomon, 1990).

Each type of attachment style comprises a set of attachment behavioral strategies used to achieve proximity with the caregiver and a feeling of security.

From an evolutionary perspective, an infant’s attachment classification (A, B, or C) is an adaptive response to the characteristics of the caregiving environment.

Ainsworth’s maternal sensitivity hypothesis argues that a child’s attachment style depends on their mother’s behavior towards them.

• ‘Sensitive’ mothers are responsive to the child’s needs and respond to their moods and feelings correctly. Sensitive mothers are more likely to have securely attached children.

• In contrast, mothers who are less sensitive towards their child, for example, those who respond to the child’s needs incorrectly or who are impatient or ignore the child, are likely to have insecurely attached children.

Adult Attachment Interview

Mary Main and her colleagues developed the Adult Attachment Interview that asked for descriptions of early attachment-related events and for the adults’ sense of how these relationships and events had affected adult personalities (George, Kaplan, & Main, 1984).

It is noteworthy that the Adult Attachment Interview assessed “the security of the self in relation to attachment in its generality rather than in relation to any particular present or past relationship” (Main, Kaplan, & Cassidy, 1985).

For example, the general state of mind regarding attachment rather than how one is attached to another specific individual.

Main, Kaplan, and Cassidy (1985) analyzed adults’ responses to the Adult Attachment Interview and observed three major patterns in the way adults recounted and interpreted childhood attachment experiences and relationships in general:

1. Secure (Autonomous)

2. Dismissive-Avoidant Attachment

3. Preoccupied (Anxious) Attachment

Can Your Attachment Style Change?

In the world of attachment studies, a big question is whether our ideas about relationships are kind of like a one-size-fits-all thing, working the same way across all relationships, or if they’re specific to particular relationships. Some experts, like Kobak (1994), have explored this.

So, one way to look at it is as an “individual difference.” This means that our attachment styles, our inner guides for how we connect with people, stay pretty much the same over time.

These styles are based on our experiences with people we’re close to, like parents, friends, and romantic partners. Bartholomew and Horowitz (1991) think that how we act in relationships tends to be consistent, no matter who we’re with.

On the flip side, some folks believe that our attachment styles can change depending on the type of relationship. So, instead of one all-encompassing inner model for relationships, we might have different models for different types of connections. This means that you could be feeling secure with your parents but insecure in your romantic relationships.

A study with young adults showed that people have different attachment styles for various types of relationships, like with parents, friends, and romantic partners (Caron et al., 2012).

Researchers have suggested that these inner models are like a set of Russian dolls, with a big one that covers all types of relationships and smaller ones for specific types, like romance or family. These smaller ones are built on even smaller models, like beliefs about things that happen within one relationship.

There’s evidence supporting the idea that we have multiple internal working models because people can have a lot of different thoughts and feelings about themselves and others. And, while these specific relationship models are related to our overall generalized inner models, the connection isn’t super strong.

It means that our beliefs about ourselves and our partners in one type of relationship are somewhat separate from our broader views (Cozzarelli, Hoekstra, & Bylsma, 2000).

So, in a nutshell, our general ideas about relationships cover a wide range, while our specific thoughts about certain relationships are just a piece of the bigger picture.

Additionally, it is also noteworthy that one’s attachment style may alter over time as well.

Another interesting thing is that your attachment style can change over time. In different studies, about 70% of people had relatively stable attachment styles, while the other 30% were more flexible.

Baldwin and Fehr (1995) discovered that 30% of adults changed their attachment styles fairly quickly, sometimes in as little as a week or a few months. People who initially identified as anxious-ambivalent were the most likely to change.

In a 20-year longitudinal study, Waters et al. (2000) conducted the Adult Attachment Interview with young adults who had participated in the Strange Situation experiment 20 years ago. They found that 72% of the participants received the same secure vs. insecure attachment classifications as they did during infancy.

The remaining participants did change in terms of attachment patterns, with the majority – though not all – of them having experienced major negative life events.

Such findings suggest that attachment style assessments should be interpreted more prudently; furthermore, there is always the possibility for change – and it need not be related to negative events, either.

Bowlby’s (1969) theory holds that internal working models can become more resistant to change over time in a stable environment, but change is still possible over development. Attachment security and insecurity can be seen as diverging pathways – the further one progresses down one path, the harder it is to switch to the other.

[literally20something]

also if devin is still reading these BEAT IT LOSER GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

I highly doubt it but just in case, you never know.

anywho I keep re-remembering that devin is over me and doesn't see me in that way anymore. Also it is soooo hard for me to adjust to not being each others priorities. He doesn't want to get back together, I know he keeps saying that's not true but I feel like that's just him saying what I want to hear. He keeps saying he doesn't know, whatever. he asked me why I would want to be in a relationship with him at this point (because of our different love languages) after I told him I wanted to get back together. To me that was a valid question, but it was also him telling me he doesn't want to be in a relationship with me for that reason (and others lol). I keep thinking about how he's right to feel that way I guess, I don't know I really loved him for so long and I honestly did the best to show him how much he meant to me, but he was never satisfied or maybe just not towards the end. This is excluding like nov 2022-end of the relationship, because I fully shut down. I don't remember if he was upset about anything in particular before oct 2022, we were really or at least I know that I was. But I think most of his criticisms only really came up during the end so...

I think when it comes to determining how I feel about the relationship and if I want to be in it I need to figure out. If I can trust him again in the same way I did before everything went downhill.

I think that time just made me feel like I couldn't feel open up to him because he didn't care idk..I know now that he did but he just didn't know that I was feeling that bad.

I think that after he checked out of the relationship that's where a lot of damage was done, I could just tell he didn't want to be there with me or even try to talk to me that was when he would be on his phone 24/7. I remember when I really started to notice something was weird when I could've stayed an extra day with him if he would've just stayed home but instead he chose to go back to school for his internship thing that was completely optional and he still had more time to get as many hours as possible lol. I was really thinking that he hated me and he couldn't wait to be with his friends. which probably wasn't true but that's what I was feeling idk that was definitely projection.

Im starting to realize that I don't have a huge problem with physical touch...only when im comfortable with someone and I don't feel smothered. like if im with anyone for 24hours straight I will to want to talk to you at some point let alone cuddle.

I think that during the honeymoon phase of our relationship (anytime before nov 2022) I don't remember having many (or really any) problems with physical touch.

During the June trip

I was feeling way to smothered after 4 days of all contact all the time NO BREAKS (not gonna work) but I had no problem with the physical touch during those 4 days ( I even initiated it a good amount of the time)

I was also struggling with vocalizing that to him, I didn't want him to feel like I was rejecting him (which ended up making him feel like that any ways shameeee) (not gonna work in any relationship)

I also think there were really deep conversations and possible moving to fast when it came to us discussing getting back together, I was scared!! and on top of that no breaks from each other tensions got high

I don't think physical touch was ever the problem, just the same way that not wanting to talk was NOT my "new personality" or who I had grown into, my feelings and comfort level for that person had changed.

everything that our relationship was before nov 2022 was perfect for me.

If we ever get back together it will only work if I get over how he made me feel and we are able to build that friendship and trust again.

personal issue 1: It will also only work if I learn how to communicate better and be able to vouch for myself without fearing the worst from others.

personal issue 2: it won't work if I don't feel confident in the way that I express myself especially when it comes to love (in any type of relationship) exercising expressing that in different way will help me feel comfortable.

its good that I wrote this out but now I need to accept that just because I've made these realizations and even if I do learn better communication and feel comfortable expressing love doesn't mean that we'll get back together.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you. 

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table. 

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little. 

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open. 

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy. 

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been. 

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle. 

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table. 

And then the bell chimed. 

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day. 

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone. 

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence. 

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back. 

“Uh, would you like to join me?” 

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone. 

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you. 

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned. 

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that  conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two. 

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said. 

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm. 

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason. 

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!” 

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…” 

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture. 

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other. 

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted. 

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever. 

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery. 

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening. 

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.” 

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.” 

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?” 

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes. 

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization. 

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.” 

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly. 

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best. 

That was six months ago. 

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend. 

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.” 

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?” 

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly. 

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free. 

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together. 

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other. 

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know  if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes. 

The rest was history. 

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own. 

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin. 

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?” 

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured. 

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children. 

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes? 

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them. 

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement. 

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.” 

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months. 

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in. 

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be. 

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better. 

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning. 

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again. 

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children. 

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry. 

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks. 

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look. 

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought. 

“You’re just…extra happy today.” 

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest. 

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?” 

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.” 

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?” 

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her. 

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands. 

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls. 

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter. 

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry. 

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye. 

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention. 

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help. 

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled. 

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night. 

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s. 

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy. 

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more. 

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them. 

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning. 

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild. 

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice. 

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously. 

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters. 

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again. 

“Yes!” The girls both answered. 

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?” 

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed. 

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly. 

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon. 

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber. 

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights. 

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation. 

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board. 

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian. 

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then! 

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much. 

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message. 

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.  

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night. 

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed. 

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park. 

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen. 

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him. 

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up. 

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you. 

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body. 

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved. 

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took. 

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net. 

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. 

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory. 

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile. 

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup. 

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained. 

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.” 

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth. 

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it. 

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply. 

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up. 

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point. 

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered. 

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.” 

“If you want to.” 

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks. 

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down. 

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls. 

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing. 

You chuckled. “How’s that?” 

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.” 

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle. 

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said. 

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.” 

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.” 

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do. 

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice. 

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings. 

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide. 

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly. 

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well. 

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought. 

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face. 

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run. 

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder. 

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body. 

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him. 

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him. 

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased. 

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words. 

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace. 

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal. 

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert. 

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you. 

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock. 

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car. 

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind. 

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over. 

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by. 

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory. 

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt. 

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.” 

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?” 

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?” 

“What place is that?” You asked curiously. 

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often. 

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered. 

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get. 

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you. 

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.” 

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same. 

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!” 

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it. 

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.  

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again. 

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.” 

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously. 

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need. 

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t. 

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly. 

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness. 

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes. 

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay. 

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure. 

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you. 

“I’m gonna head out.” 

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.” 

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you. 

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away. 

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day. 

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help. 

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready. 

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same. 

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order. 

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story. 

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream. 

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was. 

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored. 

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety. 

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again. 

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same. 

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours. 

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass. 

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath. 

“What is it?” He whispered. 

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother. 

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.” 

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection. 

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup. 

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?” 

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you. 

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile. 

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.” 

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?” 

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.” 

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was. 

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.” 

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away. 

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise. 

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off. 

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone. 

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.” 

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

[rommahh]

Better

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairing: Buckybarnesxfem!reader

{This is for @metalbuckaroo's challenge. I had this brewing for a minute but college has got in a chokehold. I chose prompt #30 from the given prompt list. I hope y'all like this read. Love, R}

Bucky trailed behind Y/N as she ignored his calls. Her boots clicked loudly in the small hallway as she rushed towards their shared apartment. Her keys shook in her hand, body tense with anxiety and anger.

Bucky reached her at the door, his hands loosely gripping her arms. Y/N shoved the door open, her body snapping away from his. Y/N haphazardly throws her keys in the small bowl that sat on the hallway side table.

Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she tried to remain calm.

“Y/N please, what is going on? Why are you so mad?” Bucky questioned, slamming the door behind him as his own frustrations started to catch up with him.

“I'm going to bed.” Is all she said to him without even meeting his eyes. She was quick to enter her room and lock the door before he could say anymore. Bucky stood behind her door in confusion. His body still tingled with the lasting effects of the shots he took hours prior.

Sitting on your bed, Y/N finally released. Her shoulders dropped, her body hunching over itself as the tears started flowing.

Y/N had been looking for Bucky for what felt like hours. He was her ride back to the apartment and having been at this party for over four hours- she was exhausted. There was a twinge of disappointment that lingered in her caused by Bucky's disappearance. He invited her to this party tonight but quickly left her to her own devices the moment the both of them walked through the frat’s doors.

The house was mainly empty except for the few lingering bodies that were drunkenly wandering around. She climbed up the stairs that lead to a common room on the second floor. Y/N’s cute white go-go boots were tight on your feet, making her wince at every step. Fashion was a moment type thing, not a four hour long excursion.

Y/N heard a group of voices leading from the common room once you reached the top of the stairs. She listened out waiting to see if she could hear Bucky’s voice before walking through the doors of the common room.

“I don't know why you hang out with that girl Bucky.” Her ears perked at his name. Y/N almost walked through the door but she took a step back to listen to what they were saying.

“Yeah, shes fucking weird.” The group laughed. “I mean look at how she dressed tonight. She’s wearing a costume.”

Y/N looked down at her 80’s inspired dress with a frown. She thought she looked cute tonight, Bucky said she looked cute. She couldn't stop blushing after she heard his words.

“She’s a freak barnes. All she does is follow you around. Are you sure you guys aren't dating?” One of the boys asked with a chuckle. No one said her name yet but she knew they were talking about her. She could tell.

“Y/N’s not that bad. She just doesn't have any friends. I don't like her like that, not my type. She's got that weird anxiety thing.” Bucky's voice finally sounded out from the group. Y/N heart hurt hearing his words. Weird anxiety thing?

“Yeah, making her a freak. So you're just friends with her out of pity? Are you at least getting community service hours?” The group laughed again, Bucky's deep laugh standing out to Y/N.

“You have a lot of strength for a man who's not getting any ass from the girl he's keeping company with. Shes weird as fuck but her body is still bangin. Have you ever copped a feel of her tits? I would hang out with the loser if I got to fuck her too.” Someone commented. Y/N felt bile rise in her throat. She could feel a panic attack approaching having heard the sexual comments about her body. She stepped out from around the wall into the common room. All eyes snapped up to her, some eyes widening in shock. Bucky just looked up, not catching on that his roommate may have heard the horrid words said about her.

“I-im ready to go home, Bucky.” She hadn't looked up from where her feet were rooted on the stained wood floors. Bucky slowly wobbled up from his seat. The rest of the guys watching quietly, some snickering at Bucky's submissiveness.

“Here sweets, you're gonna have to drive.” Bucky says handing his keys over to Y/N. Without looking at him, she snatches the keys from his hands and quickly retreats to his car. Bucky stumbles behind her confused by her attitude.

Y/N walked to Bucky’s car, arms covering whatever they could cover on her body. Her mind telling her she was unsafe, her anxiety telling her even worse things.

Bucky eyes burned from the headache he had. He felt physically ill as he woke up from the living room couch. Last night's activities blur in his mind, no clear memories presenting themselves. He sits up to rest his forearms on his knees trying to calm his bubbling stomach.

The first thing he notices as he comes to his senses is the lack of Y/N’s noise. Normally the small apartment would be filled with the sounds of her sunday playlist as she cleans about. He also doesn't smell her extra dark and strong coffee that she only makes for sundays. He doesnt smell her out of the can cinnamon rolls either that she would normally wake him up with on a small tray with said coffee.

He finds it odd that her presence is lacking in the apartment. Standing, he makes his way over to her room knocking on it slightly. He hears shuffling from the other side but no one comes to open the door.

“Hey sweets, everything ok?” He knocks again to gain her attention.

“I-Im fine Bucky, please go away.” She stutters out to Bucky. Bucky is shocked by her statement not used to being pushed away by her.

“Oh ok, just let me know if you need anything.” He says quietly.

Y/N remained the same way over the next few days. She rarely came out of her room when she was in the apartment leaving Bucky on his own. She stopped making him meals out of kindness or filling up his canisters of water for workouts. She stopped baking him treats as midday pick me ups. She didnt wait for him to get out of classes so they could gossip about what was going on on campus. She didnt bother him at all.

Bucky felt uneasy about Y/N’s silence. He was hurt by her sudden disappearance. Hurt that she could just ghost him without any reason. But there was a reason, Bucky just didnt remember.

Y/N sluggishly walked into the apartment after taking an extensive exam in one of her classes. She tried to walk quietly throughout the apartment to not catch the attention of Bucky. She walks softly on her feet close to the opening of the kitchen.

“Hey.” A quiet voice makes Y/N jump in her spot. Her mission of going unnoticed failed. Bucky leans against the kitchen counter that is parallel to the opening of the kitchen. His feet are crossed in front of him, hands holding a cup of tea.

“Hi.” Her tone matches his. She turns her body to face his, hands fidgeting with each other. She slightly moved from foot to foot, a trait that had been acquired out of nerves. Bucky recognized her tic, his heart constricting at the thought that he might have done something to cause it.

“Y/N, please, what's going on?” Bucky can see that she's not wearing one of her normal outfits that are adorned in bright colors and fun patterns. Instead, her body is covered in a boring sweater that hides most of her body. She wears a large pair of jeans underneath, a belt tightly bounding it to her body.

“Nothing Bucky.” She dismisses. Bucky feels his anger peak. A range of emotion he tried to hide away breaching over its point. He missed his best friend beyond belief and all she could give was a few words.

“It's not nothing Y/N!” He snaps slamming his mug of tea on the counter. Y/N flinches at the sound. Her hands start to shake, not out of fear of Bucky but from unwarranted anxiousness. “I've given you your space but its killing me. I miss you Y/N. I dont get what happened?”

Y/N feels her eyes well up with tears.

“You hurt me Bucky.” It was Bucky’s turn to flinch hearing her words. He hurt her?

“I don't know what I did though.” His voice sounded childlike as he whined.

“At the party, you let your friends talk poorly about me. You-you let them call me a freak and-and weird. They made fun of my clothes and said you were hanging out with me out of pity and you just sat there and laughed James!” Her voice rose with every word. Bits and pieces of that night float around in his head. He can slightly remember the conversation but nothing is clearly showing in his head.

“I'm sorry they said that Y/N but you know that's not true. We both know our relationship, I don't know why you're letting them get to you.”

“They talked about my anxiety. You talked about my anxiety!”

“That's it? That's why you're not talking to me?” He exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“You let them sexualize me!” The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence. Bucky’s exterior softened.

“What?” His tone was drastically softer than it was earlier.

“You just sat and listened to them as they talked about my body. They talked about my boobs and if youve had sex with me and you said nothing. They said that they would hang with the loser if they could fuck me...How could you let them say that about me?” Y/N whimpered. Her hands cradled her face as she sobbed. Bucky saw the way her chest heaved with each sob, tears forming in his own eyes.

“I didn't know. I wouldn't have let them say those things sober. You have to know that.” He almost fell to his knees pleading for her forgiveness.

“You even said you wouldn't date me. I know its stupid but I thought you liked me back. You told me you loved me. You've taken me out on dates. You've kissed me for goodness sake!”

“I know and I'm sorry. I do like you, I don't know why I said that. I like you so much.” His knees buckled slightly but he held his ground.

“Obviously you dont Bucky. We should just stay away from each other from now on and I won't be renewing my leasing contract at the end of the semester.” She finalizes. Buckys whispers a small no in protest. “You really hurt me, Bucky. I would never let anyone slander you. I respect you too much to allow for someone else to disrespect you.”

With that being said, she gave Bucky one last look over before walking away. Bucky was knocked out of his thoughts at the sound of her door slamming shut and the lock being secured.

Bucky sat on the kitchen floor, the cold tile seeping through his pants to chill his legs. His face adorned with a frown, tears sliding down his warm cheeks. Y/N was his best friend and he ruined it by being a shitty person. He knows he should have defended her, defended their relationship.

Bucky’s rolly chair was his only source of entertainment at his desk in the lobby of the admissions office. Today was a slow day. There were only a few students who came in asking for help finding buildings or looking for the financial aid office. Some high school student came in for tours but his coworkers beat him to doing tours so here he was stuck in the quiet office. He had already stolen a large amount of guest snacks, a cold bottle of tea and a sugar cookie with the school's logo on it.

His chair spinning activities came to a halt when he heard the front door open with a small jingle sounding from it. He took a moment to let the dizziness fade away before he looked up. Bucky felt his breath stop in his throat.

There stood a girl with overalls and a bright colored top. She wore dark green converse, high tops, with frilly socks that peeked from the top. She had large glasses that framed her face perfectly. She was looking around the office, eyes wide with wonder. Her eyes finally met Bucky's, making a large smile appear on her face.

“Hi!” She exclaimed walking up to Bucky’s desk.

“Hey, what can I help you with today?” Bucky asked cooly.

“I just transferred here and I was wondering if you knew where I could apply for on campus jobs?” She placed her hands on top of the counter of Bucky’s desk. He admired her baby blue acrylics that had white flowers on them.

“Oh um, the admissions office is hiring. We do all of the tours for highschool students, or package and mail acceptance letters. Sometimes we plan scholarship events. It's an easy pay type of job. I just sit here and do homework my whole shift.” Bucky answers. “What's your name so I can get my boss to contact you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky quickly scribbled your name on a post it note and stuck it to his laptop as a reminder. “Do you really like this job or are you just trying to pull me in?” She jests with a small smile on her face.

“I mean it's a decent job but im sure with you working here it would make it ten times prettier.” Bucky smirked at the giggle that escaped Y/N. He wasn't normally a flirt but he couldn't help himself with this one.

“Oh really? How many times have you said that line to a girl?” Bucky put a hand to his chest in a fake offense.

“You think too low of me Y/N. I saved that one for the prettiest girl to walk through the door.”

“Hmm, ok. I'll believe it only because my ego needs this boost. Hey, you never told me your name. How am I supposed to write about this encounter in my journal if I don't have your name?”

“My name is James but I prefer if people just call me Bucky. Short for Buchanon, I know it's weird.” Bucky leans back in his chair, arms crossed. He can see her eyes checking out the way his muscles flex underneath his long sleeve shirt. He may have purposefully flexed a little extra for show.

“No, I love it. I dont think ive ever met a Bucky.” She counters. She leans forward, placing her elbows on the counter, her chest pressed against the front of the counter.

“Well I'm glad I'm your first Bucky.” He jokes with a small smile on his face. There was a small moment of silence shared between the two as they just looked at each other. Bucky couldn't help but think about how cute she was as Y/N thought the same thing.

“Oh gosh, I'm probably holding you up from your work.” She snaps out of her little spell rolling her eyes at herself. “I should get going.”

Bucky frowned at the idea of her leave, wanting nothing more than to continue talking to the new girl.

“Right, of course. Maybe I could get your number...so I can notify you about the job.” Bucky proposes. Y/N raises one eyebrow in question, a knowing smile placed on her lips.

“Sure thing bucky.” He hands her a pen and post it for her number. “I wouldn't be opposed to you using this number for things other than work too.” She suggested. She signed her name on the post it note ending it with a small heart.

“I will definitely take you up on that offer. No take backs though when I start sending you random shit.” She giggled, leaning up from her spot. Bucky basked at the sweet sound. He stood up to meet her on the other side of the desk.

“Well Bucky, it was lovely to meet you.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, he reciprocated the action. Her hands were soft and warm, he thought. She gave him one last smile before walking away.

It was warm outside on the quad as Bucky sat by himself. He sat at the table that would normally be occupied by Y/N and him. Y/N would bring lunch- made by her. Anytime Bucky would try to help her by making lunch she would kick him out of the kitchen. Today, Bucky sat by himself, with no hand made lunch. He had a greasy bag of french fries and a large coke. He planned on eating his sorrows away.

“Hey Bucky!” A voice yelled out to him. Looking up from his fries, Bucky looked towards the sound that broke him out of his fries excursion. Tanner and Logan, his friends from the party, came walking over to him. They both sat down, throwing their lunch onto the table.

“Where's Ms. weirdo?” Tanner asks, mouth full of food. Bucky grimaced at Tanner's manners. He also felt the anger he should have felt on Saturday bloom in his chest.

“She's not weird.” Bucky snapped, fists tightening in his lap. Tanner scoffed, Logan laughing along with him.

“Says you. She is fucking weird. Did you finally get some from her or something? Defending her and shit.” Logan clapped Tanner on his back agreeing with him. “Shit, good for you dude. I would have fucked her a while ago. Probably would have kept her face down so I wouldn't have to see her-”

Before Tanner could finish his sentence, he was thrown from his seat from the powerful punch being landed on his jaw. His feet flew from where he was sitting, landing on his back with a heavy thud.

“Dude what the fuck?” Tanner stood wiping his face from the blood that started to trickle down from his bloody eyebrow. Bucky had never felt anger like this before. His heart was racing, his breathing labored. His cheeks were red and warm, eyebrows turned down.

“No, you don't get to make fun of her and make sexual comments about her.” Bucky snarled. Tanner rolled his eyes, walking closer to Bucky.

“Oh fuck off with that! You didn't defend her this hard on saturday.” Tanner's mistake after his words was shoving Bucky's shoulders back. Bucky reacted quickly by shoving Tanner with even more force.

Tanner threw a punch to Bucky’s jaw, making his head fly back. Bucky tackled Tanner to the ground, throwing punches left and right. Tanner fought back, hands flying landing punches wherever he could land them.

Logan was able to pull Bucky off of Tanner, warning the two that campus police would arrest them if they were caught. Both boys stared at each other fuming. Bucky snatched his trash and his backpack up, the scowl never leaving his face.

“If I ever see you looking or talking to Y/N, I will bash your face in.” Bucky growled.

Y/N felt better today. She found the strength to wear a cute outfit versus the oversized clothes she had been wearing prior out of fear. She didn't want anyone to look at her in any harmful way. She wanted to wear her cute outfits that were sometimes form fitting and short. She liked to wear her cute period pieces that had her own twist on them. She spent many years hating her body and the way she looked. She deserved to feel cute without thinking she is at fault for being sexualized and poorly treated.

She whipped out one of her favorite outfits today, loving the way it fit on her body making her feel confident. Sitting at the front desk of the admissions office, her feet propped up on the desk. Her shift was going by slowly, no one needing assistance this late in the day.

The door burst open making Y/N jump from her seat. She stood up shocked to see Bucky walk in with a huff. He wasn't supposed to work today but here he was. Y/N gasped looking at his cut lip and bruising eye.

“Bucky, what happened?” She maneuvered her way around the desk to stand in front of the beat up boy. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks to examine his injuries. He moved his face away from her tears brimming his eyes.

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry. I should have protected you from them. I should've told them not to speak about you that way. You are more than some eye candy for men to act disgusting towards. You are beautiful and eclectic. You have a brilliant mind that shines brighter than anyone elses on this campus.” He spoke to her softly.

“I don't understand Bucky. What made you have this change of heart? You didn't give two shits about me last weekend.” She crossed her arms defensively.

“I know and I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the alcohol but that's no excuse. I love you. I love all of you. You're not weird. You're your own person and I love everything about you. You do so much for me and I feel like shit for not doing the bare minimum for you.” His words stunned her.

“You love me?”

“God, with everything I have. Since the day you walked in here with those overalls. I've spent the past four years loving you.” Bucky whispered. He grabbed her hand, thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“I love you too, Bucky.  I really do and I'm hurt. I don't think the hurt will go away for some time. You let them speak horribly about me. If you loved me like I was your girl, you would have defended me.” She spoke sorrowfully.

“I know, I know. I can't change the fact that I did nothing but I can tell you that I'm sorry. I'm always going to protect you. I did today. Tanner may be sporting a nasty goose egg on his eye because of his dumbass words.” Y/N giggled softly, touching his bruising knuckles.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“I want to go back to normal. I miss you in the mornings and-and during our lunch breaks outside. I miss you.” Bucky stated.

“I miss you too.”

Bucky watched her eyes drop down to his lip, busted and all. He leaned forward slightly hoping she would meet him in the middle. She met him the rest of the way pressing her lips to his. Bucky relished this moment. He relished to be even sharing  moments with the girl he's been in love with since the second he saw her.

“I'm gonna be better, I promise.”

[patchofsunlight]

Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”,  “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others? 

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered. 

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened. 

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction. 

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise. 

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be. 

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it. 

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight​

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

[lilacsandwhiskey]

Angst prompts 12 - Tom 💛

Choices

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: language, angst, not necessarily a happy ending but maybe a part 2 in the works, perhaps?

angst prompt from @your-fluffy-murder-writer

Tom hated the way he couldn’t lay down and feel comfort in what he was sure was the most comfortable bed in the entire city. The hotel room was seemingly too large anymore, knowing there was one less body occupying the room.

He swung his legs over the left side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool carpet. He glanced at the clock. It was only 11:02pm, but everyone else had already fallen asleep in the suite. He tiptoed into the small kitchenette, grabbing a beer out of the fridge, thankfully stocked by Harrison earlier that evening. He took himself out to the balcony, sitting back on the cold metal chair that decorated the outlook.

Tom sighs as he pressed the bottle to his lips, sweat from the bottle falling onto his chest. He’s quick to rub them away before setting the bottle on the tiny garden table in between the two chairs. His fingers fumble with the other side of the chair as he stares at it, as if the one face he wants to see will appear. But he knows it won’t.

His mind takes in the still bustling city below him. He knows if you were here, you’d be whispering softly stories you’d made up about each person that walks around on the street. “They definitely are on their first date.” You’d say at the awkward hand holding couple crosses the street. “She looks like she’d drive a Benz. I’d like to drive a Benz.” Tom found himself letting out a laugh through his nostrils, immediately feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. If only you were here to make those comments.

Tom wondered what you were doing right now. It took everything in him not to call you, for the first time sober. There was no doubt drunken calls had surfaced on the nights he’d gotten absolutely hammered. Harry would try to stop him, but Tom never listened. He’d shove his brother away from him, closing the door and locking himself in there. He wasn’t proud of it. It didn’t exactly help his pride that you never once called back.

“You’ll always choose it over me.” You cried. “Every. Single. Time. You’ll choose anything it all over me.” This wasn’t the first time this had been a fight. Tom groaned, pushing his hand through his brown hair. “It’s my fucking job.” “When will you realize that I know that? But you’ve changed. I haven’t even gotten a text from you in over two weeks. I’m not going to be in a relationship with a radio silent telephone. I deserve more.”

And that’s when you left. You had enough and you finallt chose your feelings over your own. You were supportive of Tom and his endeavors, everything about his job, you supported. It wasn’t until the partying and clubbing commenced more than usual, earning you not even a check in text. You felt selfish for getting upset but you also recognize that what the two of you had going on wasn’t healthy either. If he wanted it to work, he would make it work, you told yourself.

Tom was awoken by clanking in the kitchenette. The place would be home to him for the next two weeks, so there was no question that Harry had ran out to get groceries for the three of you. Tom rolled out of bed, not before grabbing his phone. Did he ever call you last night? He checked. Nope. Thank God.

Tom made the decision then to try to get over you. No response to any of his calls or messages was a response to him. With a shaky sigh, his feet carry him to the kitchen, only to hear the tail-end of a conversation. “I miss when y/n would make us those cheesy eggs in the morning.” Harry said, cracking an egg over the pan. “She’d always put the right amount of cheese.”

With a groan, Tom looks to his brother and best friend. “Don't ever say her name again.” Tom pleads, sitting down at the stool. Tom knew his whim of a decision to forget you would be more difficult than not. Harry and Harrison share a look that goes unnoticed by Tom. “Sorry mate.” Harrison responds, giving Harry one more look.

The rest of breakfast goes as normal as it usually could. Tom craved more than his breakfast though, and the craving was almost overbearing to the real food in front of him. He looked over at the stool next to him, where you would be if you were still with him. He imagined what this morning would look like - the type of morning you’d shared several times before. Your knees pressed into his thigh, feet perched on his own stool instead of yours to get closer. Your body would be turned towards his as you scraped your food off your plate, laughing among the people he loved so much.

One thing Tom struggled the most with, was when you decided to leave, you left the family too. Tom wasn’t sure if you still communicated with him, but there was no doubt some hurt when Tom had announced your break-up. You’d become so close to all of them, that you sitting here next to him in the morning eating breakfast would have been domestic. Your laughter would have lightened the thickened air between all of you. You’d crack a joke or two, pushing Harry’s buttons like you always did.

The first time Tom ever saw Harry genuinely get upset at him was when he told him. Harry took it the hardest - he had grown close to you. Of course, Tom had other girlfriends in the past that Harry had met, but he had never gotten so protective over someone like he had you. He was sure you were it for Tom. So when Tom announced it at a family dinner when his mom was poking about your whereabouts, Harry’s chair screeched loudly, a napkin was thrown on his plate, and out the back door he was to the garden.

“You really fucked up, didn’t you?” Harry hadn’t even turned around to notice Tom’s presence. He knew already. “Why do you assume it was me?” “It’s not an assumption, Tom.” Harry is quick to turn on his feet to meet his older brother. “You pushed and pushed her away. We warned you. She begged for you to give her a sliver of that reassurance you gave her in the beginning but you couldn’t get it through that thick skull of yours.” Harry’s words cut like a knife but Tom knew he was right. “I’m sorry.” Tom whispered. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Harry pushed by his brother, inside to help clean up before he was gone to their own home.

Harry apologized soon after but didn’t fail to mention that he was still pretty upset. To Tom’s knowledge, no one had spoken to you. But that wasn’t true. Harry was the first to reach out, someone you confided in. He was like your little brother after all, you’d spent a few years by their sides. Then everyone found it in them to call or message you. You had ran into Nikki at the grocery store. She spotted you down the aisle looking at pasta. You turned to see that familiar face, that familiar smile. “Y/n.” She said, before you opened her arms and allowed her embrace. She didn’t fail to express how much she missed you, which only made getting over Tom harder.

Leaving Tom was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. When you made the decision, it wasn’t quick. You lingered for months. You thought there would be a change that would snap you back into the relationship you held so dear to your heart.

The phone calls were fairly continuous for a while, a drunken Tom confessing he was wrong. You’d squeeze your eyes shut listening to the messages, telling yourself not to cry. Your finger hovered over his contact several times. But there was one thing you knew - you couldn’t say hello to him and risk another goodbye.

——————

Tom was onset for his newest movie - one about a girl and a boy finding theirselves back to each other after a rough breakup. It was a rom-com, something Tom had always been up for, but it felt different not having you by his side during filming. Though he’d had a rather great break, he spent the majority of it sulking and attempting to prepare.

Tom saw several familiar faces walking onto set, familiar with the director as someone he’d worked with times before. “Where’s the lady?” He asked, shaking Tom’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry’s face drop into a frown, attempting to insinuate that it wasn’t a good subject for now. “Uh, we ended things.” “Oh man, I’m sorry to here that.” The director gave a sympathetic smile before calling for the objective of the scenes today.

Tom felt jittery as it was determined that they would be working on the break-up scene. He stood in front of his co-star, preparing body language to show they were angry. His co-star looks to him, feeding her selves thoughts to bring tears to her eyes.

“You never cared, did you?” She spits. “You know I did.” Tom remembers how small he’s supposed to feel in this moment before the anguish begins. “You are better off without me. Just say it.” “I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” The woman is hiccuping through tears. “Because… I love you.” “You’re pathetic. You’re a liar. You’re lying to me.”

Tom recalls his actions are to become angrier with each degrading comment. But in that moment - he’s sparked. “You really think I don’t love you?” “How could I when you treat me like this?” Tom feels the tears rushing to his eyes, face turning red. “I would do anything for you.” “Then do it! Stop treating me like this!”

This felt all too familiar. A fight way too familiar. The actress is doubled over in tears, and Tom’s character is to feel urged to hold her and apologize. He does, tears streaming down his own face. If only he’d handle your arguments differently. If only his fuse didn’t get the best of him.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Tom mumbles, holding the actress close. He becomes aware of how it’s not you he’s holding. He becomes aware of how this could have been different if he would just listen. The scene continues with mumbles I love yous and a tired girl packing up her clothes.

Tom watches in the corner, real tears falling down his face as he remembers watching you sling things into bags. You had slammed pictures down on the way out. And he knew it was goodbye.

“And… cut! Absolutely beautiful acting, you two! Don’t think we could’ve had you do that better.” The director gushed. Tom was still fed with a lump in his throat. The director reports they can take five, bringing Harrison and Harry walk to the curly-haired boy. “You okay?” Harry asks, squeezing his shoulder.

Tom hesitates, eyes staring forward. “No.” He lets out. “I fucked up. I should’ve handed it all better. Why did I hurt her?” Tom knew people were probably wondering why he was unable to snap back to reality. But that was thing - that conversation had been a reality and it cut too deep.

“I’m in love with her. I am. I know she won’t give me the time of day anymore. But God, I’d do anything for a second chance.” This was the first time Tom had let himself really feel his heartbreak, and he knew it wasn’t the time. So like the great actor he is, he snapped out of his trance and prepared to listen for directions as they called for everyone back.

Tom made his way to the crew, Harrison following close behind. “Keep an eye on him. I’ve gotta call to make.”

Harry walks out into the warm summer sun. He’s quick to pull his phone out and go to the number he needs. With a couple of taps, the phone is ringing. The ring is broken by a simple hello. “Y/n? Hey! Got a minute to talk?”

[doodler-jpeg]

Life [Wilbur Soot/Fundy]

BOOOM HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU UH UM SO I WAS INSPIRED WHILE I WAS BORED AND THEN THIS IS HOW THIS ONESHOT CAME TO BE. ITS NOT GOOD, BUT ITS DECENT. You’re gonna be taking Sally’s place so, uh, I’m sorry, Sally, you’re just another salmon. Still love you though  THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE DEAR GOD ITS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR LIKE A MONTH LMAO

ALSO, KEEP IN MIND THIS IS C!WILBUR/SMP!WILBUR

⚠️CUSSING, AFAB READER, PREGNANCY, THIS IS A REALLY LONG ONE SHOT OH MY GOD, PLATONIC FUNDY RELATIONSHIP SO YEAH⚠️

Pronouns: she/her or they/them [you’re referred to as wife, mom,, that stuff, but you can change those if you want]

You hummed as you strained out your clothing beside the river near your home. A smile graced your face, [Eye Colour] eyes glinting happily in the warm sunlight of that fine summer day. Autumn would soon turn the land into a seemingly barren wasteland, though, so you decided to savor every last bit of happiness the hot days brought you. 

Hanging the large amount of clothing upon thin clothing lines, you dumped out your bucket and made sure nothing got in the lake. Walking back inside of your home, you set the buckets in the corner of the cozy cottage and walked back outside. Your brown boots thudded quietly against the cobblestone path that lead into the woods around your home that would eventually be covered in snow.

A sudden childish giggle made you turn to the fields that were a ways away from your house, right in front of the sparsely scattered trees to the right of your little house. You furrowed your brows in confusion as a blur of yellow, white, and red rushed over to you.

“Hello there.” You couldn’t help but stare as the child looked up at you silently. “What are you doing here, little one?” He only blushed, his face flushing a vivid red before he ran off. You shrugged and continued your trek into the forest.

//

You watched as flakes of snow fell delicately onto the muted green coloured grass, bundled tightly in a burrito of quilts that you and your mother has made together. You shuffled slightly from your position on your warm bed, closing your eyes as you waited for sleep to consume you.

It seemed life had other plans, though, as a faint light came toward your home, edging closer and closer until you could make out a figure, their clothing a great contrast to the paw snow. They were shivering visibly, clutching their arms as their lantern shook in their hand.

You frowned as you peeled your blankets off of you, pulling your boots on quickly. Grabbing a lantern cage, you lit the candle inside of it and hurried outside, feeling nervous as the figure hurried over to you.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of you, a miserable look on their face, their eyes red and puffy as their teeth chattered together.

“Come inside,” you didn’t care for introductions or your safety. This person seemed nice. “I’ll start a fire. Uh- there should be a few blankets on the sofa. Would you like anything to drink? Warm milk, tea? I’m not gonna offer coffee because it’s late, so I’m sorry about that.”

“Just water, please,” they croaked out. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was headed off in search of territory to claim. Turns out I chose the wrong day. God, it’s cold.” You let out a quiet laugh as you carefully tossed some wood into your fireplace, lighting the material on fire. Almost immediately, the flames grew and you sat up, placing your flint and steel on the fireplace mantle.

“I’ll go get you your water. Go warm up.” You urged before you walked into the kitchen to get the brunet some water.

//

““And then Tommy ran off!” Wilbur howled with laughter as he told the story of how he managed to lose his father in the forest close to his family home. ““Phil was looking for us for hours!” You smiled at the story as you carefully sewed up your friend’s heavy coat, making sure the patches were relatively the same colour as the rest of the jacket.

“You never really tell me about your family, so why are you telling stories now?” You commented, threading the needle in your hand through the fabric and back out of it, pulling the thread tightly. You snipped it with your scissors, placing the needle down to look for any other holes as Wilbur flushed a bright red.

“W-well— one day, I want you to meet my family, so- this sounds so fucking stupid. Never mind, forget about it.” He covered his face in his hands as you bummed, picking up a patch and laying it out on the brown fabric.

“What you’re saying is that you would introduce me to your family because you like me that much, huh?” No answer came from Wilbur, though he did let out a flustered groan as you chortled.

//

You placed a kiss upon your new boyfriend’s cheek, causing the brunet to laugh as he shrunk away from your lips

“Stop it,” you only grinned at the man, kissing various areas of his face in retaliation. Wilbur laughed harder, pushing you away gently as his face scrunched. ““It tickles!”

You grabbed his face in your hands and he looked into your eyes for a moment before you began attacking his face with kisses. When you pulled back for a break, Wilbur copied your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb across your cheeks with a smile. He leaned his forehead on yours and let out a breathy sigh, closing his eyes as he basked in the moment.

“I love you so fucking much, [Y/N].”

//

““Dont be scared, darling,” Wilbur mused as he gently rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your hand, lightly squeezing every few rotations. “Techno’s made sure to keep any weapons away and Tommy might be a little less wreckless. I’ll make sure to tell them during dinner.” You nodded uncertainly, playing nervously with the bracelet Wilbur had made you way back when the two of you first started as friends.

Wilbur rapped his knuckles on the door, his other hand never once letting go of yours as the two of you waited. A bit of shouting was heard through the door, slightly muffled, though it was evident that it was coming closer.

The door was flung open by a blond boy, his blue eyes shooting us to meet Wil’s not even a second after he opened the door. A grin was on the boys face as he turned and shouted for Phil [who Wilbur had told you was his father]. Soon enough, a blond man with a bucket hat trodden over, frowning at Tommy.

“Listen, motherfucker, you may be living here, but I’m not gonna fucking let you live if you keep fuckin shoutin.” You froze nervously and glanced over at your boyfriend. He just sent a small, awkward smile onto reassure you before he turned to look down at the two.

“Are you really gonna argue in front of my wife?” Wilbur piped in, feeling himself become giddy as Tommy and Phil shot their heads over to look at you.

“You brought a girl over?!” Tommy yelled in surprise as he stumbled back, eyes wide as he observed your movements skeptically.

“Wil? Can you come over here real quick? I just need to talk to you.” Phil forced a smile as he grabbed the taller man’s ear and yoinked him over to a different room, leaving Tommy and you alone.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously, raising a hand in a half assed wave.

“Do you happen to be American?” The blond asked, leaning his face over to stare at you.

“I mean- I’m a water nymph. I don’t really know if that counts because we usually just have different accents, but we never take into account where anyone’s from.” You laughed, scratching your cheek.

“Well where are you from?” Tommy urged, crossing his arms.

“To be specific, I came from the North Sea right by the Netherlands. I don’t really think that’s important though.” You shrugged.

“So you’re Dutch? Speak it.”

“Im not necessarily Dutch, I was just born in the North Sea, Tommy- I think you’re a Tommy. You seem like a Tommy.” You cleared up, ““The only reason I learned English was to communicate with certain humans.”

“Okay.” The boy sighed, shoulders slumping forward as you let out an amused chortle, “I’ll leave you alone. For now.” Tommy backed up, turning into a room while a big, burly pig person ducked under the doorway, a large sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his face. As he turned to the door, he spotted you and his eyes widened momentarily before going back to their half lidded position.

“Who’re you? Phil didn’t- oh. Oh, today was that day. Oh my god, how could I forget it?” The hybrid smacked his forehead harshly, ““I’m so sorry.”

You laughed, waving your hand dismissively as the pig moved to the side to let you in. You carefully stepped into the warm house and the tall hybrid closed the door behind you.

“Dinner’s nearly done, so you can go sit down in the living room. If you need anything, Phil has ears all over the place. Just look at those crows.” Techno motioned over to the few crows that perched themselves on the window, letting out quiet caws. You waved at the birds and they flapped their wings in response.

“They seem nice.”

//

You sat next to your husband, hand intertwined with his as Phil smiled over at the two of you.

“So, anything new happening with you two?” The blond man inquired, placing his hands on the table. 

““I mean,” Wilbur laughed, turning over to look at you. “Would you like to tell them, dear?” You nodded, a grin on your face as you sat as straight as you could.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, your voice surprisingly calm. Tommy let out a shocked ‘‘what the fuck??’, while Techno choked on his food, slamming a fist onto his chest.

Phil was quiet, eyes wide in shock as he took in the information.

“Pregnant? With Wilbur’s kid?” You nodded, swinging Wilbur’s hand as Tommy cheered.

“Im gonna be a fuckin uncle! Yeah! I’ll be the best damn uncle ever!” He cackled, leaning back as Techno snorted.

““Can I teach them PvP?” You and your husband glanced over at each other before shaking your head.

“Maybe when they’re old enough to know what they’re doing.”

//

““Hello, my precious baby,” you cooed gently, holding the newborn as they let out a quiet sigh. ““My baby. You look just like your father.” A warm but tired smile was on your face as your baby opened their eyes, brown meeting [Eye Colour].

“Love, is the baby okay? Is she doing alright?” Wilbur called nervously through the door, to which you laughed.

“Yes, they’re doing great,” placing a gentle kiss on the baby’s nose, they brought a hand up and lightly tapped their nose.

//

““Fundy! Come here!” You cheered, reaching your arms out to the toddler. They giggled, waddling over to you. Their scab covered knees were littered with bandages and the red overalls they wore were much unlike what Wilburs would have wanted your child to wear, but it was your kid! They deserved the best!

““My precious baby,” you placed a kiss on their cheek, causing the brown haired child to giggle and wipe the kiss from their cheek. You grinned, littering their face in kisses as they squirmed, ““My little champion!”

“Yah! Cham-champion!” They babbled, bringing up a finger to chew on as you set them down and smoothed out your dress. 

““Alright, sweetheart, papa will be here soon, so make sure to tell him what you want to tell him, alright?” Your boy nodded, a goofy grin on his face as he reached over to one of the toys you had brought.

//

You cradled your son’s head as he sobbed, shaking his head in denial as to what had just happened.

“He-he’s gone, mama!” He choked out, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His tears stained your shirt, though the feeling didn’t bother you as you rocked your son back and forth, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Fundy, it’s okay,” you cooed, ““He doesn’t have to live with all the mistakes he made in the past anymore. Who knows, maybe he’ll come back?” 

““But what if he doesn’t? That was his last life and- and it’s gone! My dad’s gone!” Letting out a pained wail, he continued to sob. And you let him.

He had gone through so much.

//

““Who the hell are you and what are you doing around my son?” You sneered, standing in front of your son as the transparent figure stared at you curiously.

“You don’t remember me?” They asked, voice echoing as they tilted your head. “I- [Y/N], it’s me! Your husband! I- I am your husband, right?”

“My husband didn’t push away his son and focus on a failed country more than his own fucking family.” You loaded your crossbow, aiming it at the ghost. ““You didn’t come to his birthday parties, didn’t get him anything, you barely paid attention to him when your country was in the spotlight! You’re no husband to me.”

“Mama-” Fundy gulped nervously, ““Mama, please.”

“You know what, whoever the fuck you are? You’re no damn husband to me and you never will be. Now leave me and my son alone, for fuck’s sake.”

The ghost was silent as you turned, leading the man beside you toward the house at the top of the hill, though a small smile made its way onto his face.

“She’s the one I married?” He murmured, moving his hand to where his heart was, “Was she really the love of my life?”

[depressedacadamia]

Dimples

Summary: Apparently Nico has dimples and Will did not know.

A/N: Heheheee, motherfuckers my exams are in a week and a half and I haven't revised shit. Instead, I'm writing these. Wish me luck, this might be the only fic I post for the next 2 weeks but if you're lucky, I might post pt 2 for 'How to passive aggressively say Fuck you in flower'. Toodle pip and <3 from mee!

Extra edit: I forgot it was solangelo week, woops. 

Read on A03

Nico Di Angelo was not known for smiling. He was not known for grinning or laughing. He was however, known for snarling, sarcastic, outdated remarks and terrifying people to the point where they’d rather face death itself than face him and his wrath.

So of course, Percy and every logical being would avoid him at all costs when he was in one of his ‘moods’. These so-called ‘moods’ referred to when Nico seemed particularly dangerous, like when his eyes had a dangerous glower to them that hinted he enjoyed threatening others a tad too much- in fact, so much so that Leo had suggested that Nico may be a sadist (That hadn’t gone well for Leo, to say the very least).

But of course, William Andrew Solace was in no way a logical being nor was he very fearful of Nico’s alternating and very much violent auras. Now, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing necessarily, in fact, it was the very thing that had started their relationship and while everybody thought Will was insensitive with his historical jokes he made towards Nico, Nico greatly appreciated being able to understand something from his time.

Will, on several occasions, related him to Captain America in Marvel's Avengers.

So when Nico, in his terrifying rage, stormed into the infirmary, Percy wasn’t sure what he was about to witness. Were these two having an argument? Nico looked like he was going to set the infirmary ablaze or perhaps bury it 6 feet under- it was truly the unpredictability that created the suspense and fear.

“Where are they?” Nico’s voice was calm, cold but sharp. His words felt like the gentle, smooth slant of a knife, apply pressure and you get cut. Nobody dared to answer. The infirmary’s silence seemed like one of lambs, too scared to speak out until another leader did. Whether they expected Nico to simply leave if no one answered, they certainly did not expect him to ask again.

“Where. Are. They?” He punctuated his words, his voice combined with a deadly hunger that could only be satisfied with death.

The room felt like a cave. The only words being echoed back were Nico’s own words, bouncing off the smooth walls of the infirmary. The corners seemed dark, the white presence of the infirmary slowly being poisoned. It seemed like fate sealed their hands- they were like lambs to the slaughter: helpless.

“WHERE ARE THEY!” Nico roared. This time, he did not wait for a response. He took a small glimpse at the camper in front of him, who was obviously avoiding his gaze, and the next thing the kid knew was that he was pinned to the wall with a metre of stygian iron under his neck. The kid hyperventilated and in a moment of sheer panic and pure fear, blurted,

“I don’t know where they are! “

Nico, holding the camper up with one hand, shoved him into the wall again. “ But you hurt them anyway?”

The camper was completely clueless but he wasn’t stupid. Simply denying whatever Nico was accusing him of would increase Nico’s rage and that could lead everyone down a very dark road.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt them! I swear...” He started to sob. “ I swear it was an accident!”

“You hurt them! That isn’t an accident. You will pay for your crimes. I swear I will-”

“-Dear god, Nico what the hell?” A voice of pure confusion entered the infirmary. Nico, on recognising the voice, felt his head snap backwards-trying to find the course of the voice. There on the other side of the infirmary, with his leg in a cast, stood Will solace, still as unfashionable as ever.

Nico almost teleported to Will, considering how fast he appeared by his side. “ Are you okay? It’s okay, I found out who did it and-”

“-Jesus, Stalin, calm down there.” Will looked at the terrified boy who was in tears. “This kid knows nothing. He wasn’t even there. Were you just putting on some show trials?”

Nico had to resist the twitch in his lips at the communism jokes. Ever since Will had found out that Nico’s weakness was communism jokes, he had been exploiting it, just like the working class were exploited, and using it to his own advantage.

“Wait, this kid wasn’t involved?” Nico looked at all the terrified people in the infirmary, still frozen to their spots, waiting for the go sign for them to continue with their lives.

Will waved his hand. “Go ahead, continue with your business. He will be on his best behaviour now that I’m here.”

“Uh, says who?”

“Says my broken leg.”

On the mention of a broken leg, Nico’s worry instantly returned. His hand reached out to touch Will’s face, in a gesture of affection before quickly snatching it away. Will reached for his hand, took it in his own and intertwined their fingers as in to say It’s okay, they support us. It’s okay, I love you and you love me. It’s okay, I’m not ashamed of being in love with you.

Nico appreciated the gesture and once again, fought the urge to give in to the overwhelming desire to smile at his perfect boyfriend.

“Are you okay? Can you show me your leg? What happened? Why can’t you heal it?” The words began flying out of Nico’s mouth, the concern on his face unhideable. His eyebrows were cutely creased together and he kept on placing his hands all over Will- it was driving him crazy.

“Calm down there, communist. This is my injury, not yours.” Will joked, trying to hide his blush- truth be told, he did not want to tell Nico the real reason behind how he broke his leg because it was honestly the most ridiculous reason one may ever hear in their entire life.

Nico let out a little snort of laughter after hearing another communist joke but was careful to keep it on the downlow. He noticed that Will was being quite indirect and avoiding his gaze: he knew that could only mean one thing.

“What did you do to break your leg?” Nico smirked wickedly, understanding that Will had, once again, been quite idiotic.

Will, gasping in mock offense but also quite embarrassed by how well his own boyfriend knew him, let out a bubble of nervous daughter. “ Hahaa, what do you mean? I broke my leg the same way everyone else does...”

“... which is?”

Due to the vast amount of broken legs he had healed, Will actually knew how to answer this question. “ Through sports.”

“Sports?” Nico snorted. “ You? Sports? Have you ever even run in your entire life? I swear the only thing you do is heal and read. Maybe sleep on the offhand you listen to me.”

“You can’t talk over there!”

“Just tell me how you broke your leg, for the love of the Gods!”

“I was having a competition with Percy for who could heal faster.”

“You were doing what?”

“A competition Nico, have you ever heard of one? Normally the losers forget they exist so I wouldn't be surprised that you had never heard of one-”

“No, I know what a competition is, you idiot. What I don't know is, why on earth you were having a regeneration competition with Percy of all the demigods you could have chosen, you chose the one with the ability to heal themselves as well?”

Will pouted slightly, his eyebrows making a small frown. “I would have thought you would be halfway through murdering Percy right about now.”

“If Percy managed to win, then honestly, you kinda deserved it.”

“I thought you liked me!”

“I thought my boyfriend wasn’t an idiot!”

“Technically I won because Percy was too baby-ish to break his own leg!”

Nico took a very long pause. Slowly, he began shaking his head, from side to side. The expression on his face was illegible but eventually it morphed into one of laughter. His laugh was rich and so was the expression on his face. His lips were curled upwards, his eyes were creasing, with long beautiful dimples on both sides of his face- as clear as the moon on a clear night.

The infirmary was silent. They simply stared at the beautiful angel who graced the place with their voice. They were horrified and in awe. Nico Di Angelo was capable of smiling! He was capable of laughing!

It was a fucking miracle.

“What did I tell you!” Percy yelled, throwing his arm over Annabeth who simply sighed. “I fucking told you! I knew he had dimples!”

Will, slightly stunned, simply took Nico’s face in both his hands. His crystal blue eyes were wide open and to Nico it looked like the ocean was inviting him to take a dive into int’s complex and unknown depths.

Into the unknooooowwwwwnnnnnn.

He cursed himself for that being his first thought. He then cursed Will for making him watch Frozen because it was apparently culturally inappropriate to not have seen it. Then he cursed himself again for cursing Will.

“Holy shit,” Will whispered as he stared into his boyfriends grinning face. “Holy fuck Nico, you never told me you had dimples.”

“Language.”

“Holy shit, holy fucking hell. You cannot smile at me like that Nicolo Di Angelo and expect me to keep my language appropriate. Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Calm down,” Nico groaned, throwing his head backwards. He could feel his palms getting sweaty from Will’s words- what could he say, he was slightly embarrassed.

“Wait!” Will cried. “ Do it again. Smile again!”

Nico gave a sultry smirk and Will whacked his arm. “ I asked you to smile at me, not seduce me. Smile!”

“Who wouldn't be happy to be seduced by me?”

“Just smile, please!”

Nico sighed before looking at his gorgeous boyfriend. His eyes darted down at the cast around the leg and immediately Nico remembered the cause of injury. He started laughing, his lips stretching into a genuine smile and his dimples flashing all across his face. Will, still holding his boyfriend's face, couldn’t help himself as he brought their lips together.

Will was so used to feeling Nico’s smile when they kissed so when he brought their lips together, he didn't know what he was expecting. It felt different for some reason, it felt more.. It felt better, it felt like he was getting a new piece of Nico. Feeling Nico smile and seeing him smile were two different things and now that he could picture Nico’s smile as he kissed his smiling lips, Will thought he’d explode from happiness.

Will pulled away quickly, his hand still cemented to Nico’s grinning face. He had pulled away just so he could see Nico’s smile and more importantly his dimples again.

“What?” Nico’s innocent voice and grin combined confirmed for Will that if he died on that very spot, he would have died a happy man.

“Holy shit, you’re the cutest person ever.”

And with that, he brought their lips together again.

Neither of them noticed Thalia and Annabeth sulking as they paid up their debts to Percy from losing the bet.

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester – Part Eighteen

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,407

Warning: Pregnancy Mentioned

Prior Parts: https://queenshelby.tumblr.com/post/659814893025902592/the-last-semester-part-seventeen

YOUR POV

Another week had passed and there was nothing but radio silence from Cillian and you were scrambling to think about what to do.

Emma certainly achieved her goal by publishing this most ridiculous article about your relationship. Clearly, it had an effect on Cillian.

You texted him twice, but received no response. You were heartbroken and riddled with morning sickness. Yet, you carried on as if nothing had happened.

You had started your first teaching job after finishing university and finally found a small apartment in Dublin and you still hadn’t told anyone that you were pregnant. Only your stepmother knew and she promised to keep it a secret until you were ready to talk about it or make a decision about whether or not to keep the baby.

Whilst you didn’t judge anyone who chose to terminate, your choice was likely going to keep the baby. You couldn’t terminate the pregnancy. It wasn’t really an option for you and you were almost certain that you would keep the baby. You knew that you were old enough and mature enough to have this child.

Packing boxes was distracting you. There wasn’t much to pack as you hadn’t unpacked the majority of your belongings since moving from London to start with.

Your stepmother was helping you sort through everything and made a list of things you would need in the near future while looking through the basement to see what she had kept from her last pregnancy which, evidentially, wasn’t much.

It gave her a good excuse to also do the annual spring clean and clear out the rubbish that had accumulated over the years.

‘You know, he’s good with his boys so even if things don’t work out between you, I think you will find that he will be a good dad’ your stepmother said before asking you when you were planning to tell him.

‘I want him to talk to me because of what he feels and not because he has to if he finds out that I am pregnant. I will give it a few weeks and see if he comes around’ you huffed, somewhat upset by Cillian pulling away from you once again.

‘You love him don’t you?’ your stepmother then asked and you nodded, tears running down your face.

‘I just wish he felt the same’ you then said as your emotions were getting the better of you and you broke down.

‘I think he does. He is just scared. There is a lot at stake for him and, honestly, with you being so much younger he might be worried about the longevity of your relationship. He is probably waying things up. This not only impacts his personal life, the kids, but also his career and friendships’ your stepmother explained and you knew that she was right. Yet, you were angry and hormonal.

Cillian’s POV

Over the past two weeks, Cillian had done a lot of thinking.  The conflict with your father was just one final straw that had been drawn.

For months, when his agent found out about his relationship with a much younger woman, he had been told to break it off. It was bad for his career, making him a cliché of a Hollywood actor.

Then, there were his sons who had asked questions about you and his ex-wife certainly fuelled the fire when it came to their apprehension. She opposed his new relationship and, whilst he cared little about what she thought about him, Cillian had to communicate with her on a daily basis. After all, she was the mother of his children and they shared custody for them.

Then, of course, there was the fact that you were twenty years younger than Cillian and he worried that, one day, you would realise that you missed out on life and should have been with someone your own age, explore, party and travel. Do what people your age do and not be slowed down by someone so much older. The age gap between you was certainly something that bothered him on a personal level as he thought that, one day, you might change your mind about him and what you wanted.

In Cillian’s mind, the easiest way out was to break it off with you. It would solve all of his problems. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He loved you, he missed you and he wanted to be with you no matter how illogical it was.

Every night, he flicked through your photographs on his phone and he drafted one message after another to you before simply deleting them all, not knowing what to say, knowing that it was better if he didn’t say anything at all.

It wasn’t until Saturday evening, just as you finished packing up for your move, that Cillian slowly came to his senses about what he wanted and texted you with just a little bit of help from his son Charlie.

‘Hey, dad! Did you listen to what I said?’ Charlie asked as Cillian was, once again, lost in his thoughts.

‘I am sorry Charlie. What did you say?’ he asked, looking up from his phone with some help.

‘I want to go to the movies with Janine tomorrow. Is that ok?’ he asked, causing Cillian to raise an eyebrow and sigh.

‘She is only 18 months older than me and you know what?’ Charlie then said, waiting for his father’s reaction.

‘What?’ Cillian chuckled.

‘According to a very not so relevant book I just read, age doesn’t matter unless you are a cheese’ Charlie then said, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘That’s some deep poetry right there’ Cillian chuckled before agreeing to his son’s request and giving him some money to take out Janine.

‘Thanks dad. You know, this goes for you too and if you don’t make a move on Y/N, someone else will snap her up in no time’ Charlie then said with a hint of sarcasm.

‘Oh, you think so?’ Cillian chuckled and, just as he did, Charlie grabbed his father’s phone and began typing in his password.

‘Hey, give that back. I am not joking. I will ground you’ Cillian said somewhat angrily.

‘Well, I am with mum next week so you can’t really do that’ Charlie said as he finished typing before returning the phone to Cillian.

‘Fuck’ Cillian shouted as he read the message from him to you which simply read ‘I miss you’.

‘You just said a swearword. That’s naughty’ Charlie then grinned, causing Cillian to speechlessly stand in the kitchen and think about what to say now.

‘Well, I suppose this will get the conversation going. Thanks for the 50 Euro dad’ Charlie chuckled before walking into his room.

‘Grounded’ Cillian growled.

‘Fine. At least it was worth it’ Charlie winked back.  

Your Father’s POV

The same evening, your father arrived home from work to you pulling out of the driveway and a stack of garbage bags being piled up in front of the front door of the house.

‘What the…’ he growled just as your stepmother brought out the final bag.

‘Spring clean’ she said somewhat satisfied, causing him to huff.

‘Where is Y/N going?’ your father asked as he was just about to take off his shoes.

‘To Marina’s house. Movie night I think’ your stepmother said before asking your father to put the trash into the bins before taking off his shoes.

‘Sure’ he responded just as she disappeared back inside to finish off cooking and, as your father took out the trash as requested, one of the large thin plastic bags got caught on the tyre of the bicycle besides the house.

It tore almost immediately and half of its contents scattered over the wet grass.

‘For fuck sake’ your father shouted to himself as he pulled open the bin and discarded of the half full bag and the two other bags he was carrying before collecting the contents from the floor.

‘Fantastic’ he growled again with anger as he realised that it was the bag containing the bathroom contents which had spilled and, amongst old tooth brushes and a sticky tube of toothpaste, he found something unusual. A digital pregnancy test which clearly read ‘POSITIVE’.

His breath caught in his throat as he picked it up, looking at it is somewhat stunned and surprised.

Was this really happening, he wondered?

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