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queenshelby · 4 years ago

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Just Friends - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5034

Foreword:

I have never written anything for an actual person. For my own comfort, I will not be referring to Cillian’s actual family and, instead, I have created two small biographies for the Reader and Cillian.

Biography:

The Reader:

The Reader is 24 years old and recently moved to Dublin with her 5 year old son, Max in order to take up a fantastic job offer.

Max’s father isn’t interested in a relationship with his son and separated from the Reader pretty much as soon as she found out that she was pregnant.

The Reader is a novelist and editor for the Irish Times.

The Reader’s interests include books, listening to records, theatre and attending live music gigs.

The Reader has a close relationship with her grandmother who is 65 years old and a writer herself. She also lives in Dublin with her second husband, who is originally from Galway.

Cillian:

Cillian is 42 years old in this story. He is divorced from his wife Siobhan and has two kids, Charlie (6) and Hendricks (8).

He lives in a town house in Dublin and shares custody.

In this story, he finished filming Season 4 of Peaky Blinders about three months ago, which is when the Reader first met him.

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JUST FRIENDS

Three and a half months ago you moved to Dublin to take a position as editor at the Irish Times. Initially, the move was daunting to you as you were a single mother and moving your son to a different preschool concerned you.

Fortunately, your grandmother was living in Dublin as well and offered to help you with looking after your son, Max. She was a retired novelist herself and you always had a close relationship with her. Having her around was a blessing.

Over the years, you also met some Irish writers and established good relationships with them. Therefore, finding friends in Dublin was not an issue.

One of your best friends was a play writer from London and was working in Ireland at the time, promoting her theatre play called ‘Blessings’. She introduced you to a bunch of people, most of which were working in the entertainment industry in some way or another.

Whilst all of your new found friends were a fair bit older than you, you related to them. You had interests in common and most of them had children, just like you. They understood that sometimes plans had to be cancelled and flexibility was limited. Having children is a commitment which many of your younger friends didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in late nights because a young child meant early mornings. For this reason, you would much rather attend a dinner and board game night as a opposed to a night club.

And this is how you met a very interesting man named Cillian. Three months ago, your friend Orla invited you to a board game night with a couple of her friends. Cillian was pretty much the only other single person in attendance and, since this was a board game that had to be played in teams of two, you and Cillian were paired up with him.

He was funny and smart and very attractive. You had a good time that night and even won the game with your combined knowledge of random trivial facts.

He was a fun person to be around and you had several common interests.

Over the next few months, you spent a fair bit of time together, mostly with other friends but sometimes alone when your friends were doing things as couples with their partners.

Just recently, you went record shopping together and the weekend before last you and another friend of yours would take all of your kids to Dublin Zoo for the day. Your son Max developed a great friendship with Cillian’s youngest son Charlie. Playdates were a common occurrence.

While both of you separately explored the dating world, you really enjoyed Cillian’s company as a friend and he enjoyed yours and you would often chat about the mishaps you encountered and laugh about them. Dates gone wrong was one of your favourite topics.

The last relationship Cillian had was with a co-worker, which was far from ideal. They’ve met on set of one of his movies about a year after he divorced from his wife, but things didn’t go as planned and the relationship didn’t last. It ended about four months ago, being just one month before you met.

The last relationship you had was over a year ago and it also didn’t last as your boyfriend couldn’t deal with the fact that you were a single mum and that your son always came first.

For Valentines Day this year, your friends set up dates for each of you. It was disastrous. Neither of you were interested in committing at this point and you both were rather flustered about your friends’ efforts after you both had told them not to bother.

You were happy singles.

Theatre Night

As happy singles, you decided to go and see your friend’s new play ‘Blessings’ with some of your other friends on the night you all managed to be child free for once. It took a while to organise but was worth the effort.

‘Hi Max, how was preschool?’ Cillian asked as he opened the door to your townhouse for Cillian while you were in the bathroom, putting up your hair.

Max met Cillian numerous times and got along with him very well. After all, Cillian had a son the same age as Max.

‘Good. Do you want me to show you what I made?’ Max asked while you waived at Cillian from the bathroom.

‘Absolutely, show me’ Cillian said with a smile as he followed Max into the living room.

‘Look’ Max said as he held up two paintings.

‘Wow, is that a T-Rex?’ Cillian asked, causing Max to nod with excitement.

‘That’s very cool…he looks super scary’ Cillian added just as there was another knock on the door.

It was your grandmother who was here to pick up Max for his sleepover at her house.

You opened the door and asked Max to get his bag from the living room which you had packed for him earlier.

‘Nan, this is my friend Cillian’ you said as you introduced Cillian to your grandmother.

‘Hello Cillian, I am Margot. I loved Grief is a Thing with Feathers. It was such an intense play’ she said, knowing right away who he was despite the fact that you had never mentioned him to her before.

‘Thank you Margot and I loved By The Sea, it was a fantastic book’ Cillian responded. He read the book after you told him about your grandmother. Your writing style was very similar to hers and he always loved a good book.

‘Oh thank you very much. Now Max, are you ready?’ your grandmother asked.

Max was ready and you said goodbye, giving him a big hug and thanking your grandmother for looking after him for the night.

While Cillian waited in the living room, you finished your make up and slipped on your shoes.

‘Thank you for picking me up. I really have no idea where this place is’ you said as you grabbed your bag and the two of you were heading out of the door.

‘Any time Y/N, it isn’t far from here actually’ Cillian said.

As you were walking to the Arthouse Theatre you talked about all sorts of things, music, childcare and books.

It was a cold night in Dublin and you were probably underdressed for the occasion.

At the Arthouse Theatre you met up with another two friends of yours. They were both married, to each other, and shared three children. Luckily for them, they had a baby sitter that night.

The play was amazing and you all enjoyed it with a few glasses of wine which were served at the theatre. Cillian had good taste when it came to wine and you usually sought his guidance on what to order.

After you left the theatre, you felt awfully hungry. You hadn’t eaten dinner that night.

‘I am starving, is anyone else up for Pizza?’ you asked your three friends, including Cillian

‘We would love to, but only have a baby sitter until 9pm, sorry’ Amanda said, explaining that she and her husband had to head home fairly soon.

‘What about you Cilly?’ you asked.

‘I would love some Pizza, let’s go to Pizzinis’ he said.

Both you and Cillian said goodbye to your friends and made your way to Pizzinis.

As usual, it was packed and there were no table available.

‘Wanna grab them take away and go back to my place? I’ve got wine and you can show me this new album you were talking about earlier’ you said.

‘Sounds good, let’s do that’ Cillian said before ordering two pizzas.

More than Friends

You arrived at your apartment about 30 minutes later and Cillian put on some music. He found this new Irish band he liked and you were really keen to hear them.

‘Hmm Indie…I like it’ you said as he connected his i-phone to your speakers.

‘Wine?’ you asked as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf.

‘Yes please and thanks’ Cillian said as he put the pizzas on the table.

‘I was meant to ask you, how was your Valentine’s date?’ Cillian asked before taking the first bite of the pizza.

‘Oh god, don’t remind me on it please’ you said with a laugh.

‘That good ey? What happened?’ Cillian laughed.

‘He was weird. He basically left after I told him about Max’ you responded.

‘I think that sometimes guys your age might be a bit freaked out by the fact that you have child. I can’t say that I blame them. I couldn’t imagine myself becoming a step father when I was in my 20s’ Cillian said.

‘He was 32’ you responded.

‘Well maybe he was just weird and you are just unlucky when it comes to dating’ Cillian laughed.

‘Yeah, maybe…I am just over dating’ you said…’What about your date?’ you asked.

‘Pretty average. I mean she was nice but had no sense of humour’ Cillian said.

‘Oh what, wait…she didn’t laugh at your Irish jokes?’ you laughed.

‘Outrageous I know. I mean how could she not?’ Cillian joked.

‘Here is to failed dates’ you said as you held up your wine glass for a toast.

‘To failed dates’ Cillian responded with smile.

Over the next hour or so, Cillian and you finished both pizzas and talked about books, including the book you were currently writing, music and embarrassing things your kids had done.

Quite music was playing in the background by then while you talked and laughed together until Cillian brought up a specific book he had read recently, written by a writer named J A Hanson, which he said reminded him on you in a way.

‘I have read all of her books and I really wish I could write romance as well as her’ you said.

‘Her books aren’t exactly romantic’ Cillian responded.

‘Her storylines aren’t romantic, but the character she uses in all of her books involves herself romantically with several other characters throughout the series. The way she writes makes you relate to the character even in these intimate moments’ you explained.

‘She is 60 and probably speaking from experience. I have read in a paper a few months back that she had quite an interesting and adventurous youth in the 70s and 80s’ Cillian said.

‘Free Love…Yeah, I have read this too’ you laughed. ‘Perhaps I just need some inspiration to get over my block, otherwise I will never finish this damn novel’ you said as you poured yourself some more wine.

‘You don’t have to answer this, but when was the last time that…?’ Cillian asked and, before he could finish his question, you interrupted him.

‘That I had sex? Gosh…well over a year ago’ you responded, causing Cillian’s chin to drop.

‘Over a year? Seriously? I mean, surely, a woman like you would get plenty of offers…’ Cillian said, not knowing what else to tell you.

‘A woman like me? What do you mean by that Cilly?’ you asked with a slight giggle.

‘Well, you are attractive, smart and funny. You would get a fair bit of interest’ Cillian responded.

‘So, you think I am attractive?’ you asked with a smirk, causing Cillian to choke slightly on his wine. He regretted what he had said almost instantly, causing awkwardness between you.

‘Well yeah, I think you are an attractive woman’ Cillian said quietly. ‘In a totally objective way of course’ he added, while, just in this moment, you observed his facial expressions.

You observed him drop his eyes to your lips as he said it, and then lower to the place where your shirt opens at the collar, the buttons undone to below your collarbone.

He pressed his lips together. ‘I think I should probably get go…’ he said, and, before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and kissed him suddenly, like the peck you give a boy you like on the school bus the second before you jump up and get off – a brief bravery without a plan.

He was caught by surprise.

‘Y/N’ he said and, before he could say something else, you apologised to him for what just happened.

‘I am sorry Cilly, I don’t know what just came over me’ you said.

‘It’s alright, I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was inappropriate’ Cillian said.

But, with Cillian’s response, you couldn’t leave it alone and asked ‘So, you don’t think that I am attractive?’ you asked, giggling slightly with some embarrassment.

‘Any man who thinks that you aren’t attractive is clearly blind. But, with that being said, it doesn’t matter what I think, you are 18 years younger than me and it would be wrong for us to take this further. Despite, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship’ Cillian said calmly.

You didn’t know what to say to his comment and, instead of using any words, you ran your hand gently over the side of his perfect face while biting your lip.

‘Just one kiss between friends then, we can blame the red wine after’ you whispered as a comfortable hot feeling washed over you. You felt some sort of attraction towards Cillian since the moment you met him, but didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone to him.

‘I don’t know Y/N’ Cillian said as you leaned closer towards him and pressed your lips onto his. You knew he was reluctant but he didn’t push you away.

To the contrary, as you kissed him, his hand came up in a rush to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Within seconds, his tongue slipped between your lips, whispering over your teeth and began dancing with your tongue.

You noticed the brush of his stubble on your cheek, the press of his lips on yours and the way his mouth tasted, a mix of minty gum and red wine.

It shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was. The taste of him, the smell and flavour, and it made you whimper in your throat. You knew this was one off and you didn’t want this moment to end.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked after he pulled back a little and paused. He was scanning your eyes and there was a cautious considering from his side. You could tell that he was surprised about what had just happened.

‘Yeah, you?’ you said as you couldn’t help yourself but stare into his baby blue eyes.

‘Yes’ he said as he cleared his throat slightly.

There was an awkward silence in the room and you couldn’t stand it.

You build up all of your courage again and leaned over him, pressing your lips onto his once more.

Cillian didn’t hesitate then.

His tongue slipped right back into the same spot than before, before his lips then moved over your face and down to your neck, leaving gentle bites and kisses.

Cillian’s hands were busy touching you at the same time his lips were trailing over your neck.

One of his hands was in your hair at the back of your head while his other hand was moving down to press the small of your back so that your body was pulled forward into his.

As you were exchanging passionate kisses, you could feel the shape of him, the firmness of his body against yours, your legs pressing into his and his chest pressing into your breasts. You could also feel his erection through his jeans, hard as anything, rigid and warm against your tummy.

By this time, you wanted more than just kisses.

‘Sleep with me, just that once’ you whispered.

‘I can’t Y/N, you are 24, it is not right’ Cillian said pulling away from you.

‘It’s just sex Cilly, I am old enough for that’ you laughed.

‘Yes, but I don’t want this to ruin our friendship’ Cillian said.

‘It won’t. There are no strings attached, it’s just sex. Unless you don’t want me’ you responded. ‘Although I think you do’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his pants, feeling his erection.

Your comment made Cillian chuckle.

‘This is a one off, alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘One off…and it stays our little secret’ you said before smashing your lips back onto his for another minute or two.

After you exchanged more passionate kisses you stood up.

‘Common, I show you my bedroom’ you said cheekily, taking his hand and guiding him towards the bed.

‘Can you help me with this please’ you asked, turning around to face the bed. Your back was now facing Cillian and you pulled your hair aside so that he can open the zipper of your dress.

Cillian unzipped your dress carefully, exposing your black lace underwear.

As you pushed your dress down onto the floor, Cillian began kissing your back and neck, while running his hands over your breasts and stomach, all the way down in between your legs.

You let out a brief moan before turning around to face him and help him pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped biceps.

Looking into his eyes, your hand glided gracefully, for once, past Cillian’s belt buckle and into the holy crevice of his Calvin Klein briefs. His cock was hard and ready.

You moved it between my your slowly, relishing his obvious eagerness.

You used the other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, shortly after which he pushed them down to the floor while your other hand never left his warm and hard cock.

After the jeans came off, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours while using his skilled hands to unclip the back of your bra. The bra also landed on the floor within seconds.

‘Lie down’ he whispered into your ear. You obliged and crawled onto the bed, facing him.

He loomed over you, climbing on to the bed as you scooted backwards further so that he could straddle your hips while you pushed up against him, wanting the rub and friction against you.

Cillian kissed you passionately as one of his hands moved in between your legs.

He could feel your body tensing up as he ran his fingers over the top of your panties

After all, he knew that it had been a while since you’ve been with anyone. He knew to take it slow and give you some reassurance.

‘Just relax’ he whispered into your ear with his thick Irish accent as he edged his fingers over the lace of your panties, his hand leisurely rubbing up and down the length of your squirming crotch, until he pulled your underwear aside and slipped two fingers inside of you.

You could feel your mouth widen and a loud moan escaped you as he teased the full mound of your clit. The stroke of his thumb was purposeful and steady on your firm, dripping pulse while his fingers plunged in and out of you, sinking further and further.

You held onto him tightly as the slipperiness he found made it easy for him to penetrate you with his fingers. You were so wet.

You shuddered at the pattern, shocked to find it could still stun you, unlocking newfound levels of moisture and desire, even when you began to meet the repetition of his thrusts. You naturally tilted and buckled beneath him.

As he was pushing his fingers in and out of you, he trailed kisses down your neck while your hands clutched at his shoulders, scratched down his back, held him tighter to you as I screamed into his skin.

Cillian’s breath grew more desperate and rugged.

‘It seems like we should take these off’ he said, causing you to nod with anticipation.

‘Don’t move’ Cillian ordered as he lowered himself on the bed while removing your lace undies.

Within seconds, Cillian’s lips were an inch away from your crotch, where he painted your inner thigh with tiny and soft kisses.

Cillian pushed your legs apart gently and you knew what would be next. You have read about this many times but this was the first time any man had gone down on you before and you were nervously biting your lip.

You tried hard to relax as Cillian’s lips finally reached your entrance, tasting the evidence of how much you wanted him.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as his head dove between your legs. His tongue prodded you softly, short licks against your clit.

Instantly, all restraint and reservations you had vanished. You were relaxed completely as his tongue danced and writhed inside of you.

With each skillful stroke, your thighs clenched. But you still needed more and he read you just right; he didn’t stop as you pushed yourself up the bed. Instead, he held you steady, causing you to look down at him and watching his eyes widen as they met yours, reacting to the rush of your wetness.

‘Cillian, oh god…you need to stop, I am so close’ you moaned, not wanting it to be over. You never came more than once so you wanted to feel him inside of you first.

‘That’s good, just let go’ Cillian said quietly with a grin before he continued and slid two fingers back inside of you while whirling his tongue over your clit.

You couldn’t hold on any longer, no matter how hard you tried. Your exhales began to emerge as deepening sighs and you leaned my head back and lived out the fantasy that had flashed through your mind all along.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as your back arched and a rush of ecstasy flew through your body. You grabbed onto Cillian’s hair as he sucked every drip from you as your orgasm flooded your body.

As you came down from your orgasm, Cillian shuffled himself back up the bed, kissing you passionately.

You could taste yourself on his lips and you were ready for more.

‘I want to feel you’ you whispered after your lips drifted apart and while reaching for Cillian’s hard cock.

‘Do you have a condom?’ he asked, causing you to nod. You had purchased some before your Valentine’s Date, just in case you needed them.

You reached for the bedside table and opened the pack of condoms, handing one to Cillian.

Cillian was quick to get rid of his briefs and put on the condom, before positioning himself on top of you, in between your legs.

He shuddered a great rushing gasp of breath as he entered you. He couldn’t believe how good you felt, so tight.

You felt him push into you then, slowly and carefully, filling you completely.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you held onto him tightly as he slowly began to move.

With every thrust, you gasped, whimpered, soft mewling noises, begging for more.

You felt him all the way to your belly button and screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep.

As he picked up his pace, you got louder, groans becoming moans becoming shouts, and the bed frame thumped against the wall, louder and faster and louder and faster.

‘Oh god, don’t stop’ you moaned, his skin slapping against yours.

‘You are so beautiful’ Cillian said in between his moans before pulling out of you slowly and lifting up your legs above his shoulders.

He knew exactly that, this way, he would be reaching your g-spot while he was fucking you.

You were slightly surprised by this position but were flexible enough to run with it.

As he entered you again slowly, you let out a loud moan.

‘Fuck’ you moaned in between the high-pitched noises that escaped you.

‘Does this feel alright?’ Cillian asked, wanting to ensure that you are comfortable.

You nodded eagerly and whimpered a shaky ‘yes’ as he continued to thrust into you. He was right at your g-spot and you could barely control yourself.

He slowly picked up the speed and you could feel another orgasm coming on as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot over and over again.

‘Cillian, oh my god, don’t stop…’ you moaned as you held onto his arms tightly.

You began to shake heavily as your orgasm washed over you and tears of joy escaped your eyes.

‘Fuck, Y/N’ Cillian groaned loudly as he felt your walls tightening around him. The sensation coupled with the sounds you were making sent him over the edge and he almost came in sync with you.

As soon as he came, you released your legs from his shoulders and he collapsed on top of you, kissing you passionately.

You could still feel Cillian pulsing inside you when the sudden oddness of what you had done washed over you.

‘Are we ok?’ Cillian asked as he slowly pulled out of you and removed the condom, disposing of it discreetly.

‘I think so’ you said shyly.

‘Good…because I really enjoyed this’ Cillian said as he ran one of his hands over your cheek gently.

‘Me too…plus, I’ve got some inspiration for my book now’ you said cheekily.

‘I am glad to having been of assistance. Make sure you credit me in the end notes’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘Hmm, if I did, it may become a best seller…Sex Scene Inspired by Cillian Murphy’ you said with laughter, causing Cillian to laugh also.

‘I should better get home’ Cillian said as he was playing with your hair. He really didn’t want to leave, but he felt as though it was inappropriate for him to stay the night.

‘You can stay here if you like…’ you offered, but Cillian declined.

After all, this was supposed to be a one off. You are nothing more than friends, or are you?

You accepted Cillian’s decision to leave and weren’t upset by it. You enjoyed your time with Cillian and slept well that night, snugging up in the doona which smelled like his aftershave.

Finishing the Book

The next morning, you got up early to begin writing the intimate chapter of your book. This was the chapter you had struggled with for a while and you finally felt comfortable writing it. If readers would know that, in this particular scene of your book, you were basically reliving your night with your friend, Cillian Murphy, that would be scandalous.

So, you decided to make sure that no one would ever find out about your little adventure.

Unfortunately for you, your grandma seemed to have a good sense of what was going on.

She was on time as usual and dropped Max back at your house at 10am.

‘Had a good night my dear? I can see you are working on your book.’ She said.

‘Yes nan, the play last night was lovely. It has given me some inspiration’ you said.

‘The play has given you some inspiration to write about orgasms?’ your grandmother asked with laughter as she read the screen on your lap top.

‘Nan! Oh my god, don’t read what I am writing’ you said with embarrassment.

‘Oh dear, it’s alright. Believe it or not, I used to write novels myself with a little hint of filth now and then. But, somehow, I don’t think that it was the play that gave you the inspiration to write this little naughty chapter. By looking at the bruises on your neck, perhaps it was your friend Mr Murphy who gave you this inspiration?’ your grandmother said with sarcasm.

‘Nan, no Jesus, please’ you said as your face became flushed.

‘Don’t be embarrassed dear’ your grandmother said. ‘It is good for you. I mean, he is handsome and I saw the way you looked at him yesterday evening…and the way he looked at you’ your grandmother continued.

‘There is nothing between us nan, we are just friends’ you explained with total embarrassment.

‘Alright dear, whatever you say’ your grandmother said, not believing a single word that came out of your mouth.

‘I better go, I have lunch with Alma later… I love you my dear’ your grandmother said before heading out of the door.

‘Love you too nan’ you said.

WHO WANTS A SECOND PART OF THIS?

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy imagine #smut #fanfic

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

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And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way.

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes.

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

“Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

“Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes.

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly.

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

“You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned.

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind.

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

“Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

“Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

“I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

“With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

“And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

“Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

“Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

“Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

“Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

“Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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bumbershots · 4 years ago

Text

LOVEFOOL

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:

Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.

Word count: 3K

Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end...”

There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.

Life is full of firsts, Harry knows that, and he wishes to have been the first to sneak his way into Jane’s heart, all those years ago.

"You love her" it almost sounds like an accusation coming from Jeff, though the last thing he wants is to make Harry feel guilty. The musician doesn't reply, he shrugs, eyes never leaving her no matter how deep into the ocean she seems to be. "Does she know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "Did you bring her along just so you could tell her?"

"I enjoy writing music with her, that's why she's here," his tone leaves no room for more questions, the manager knows and sighs defeated. Harry stands from his spot on the beach and heads back inside the house, alone.

Is he being that obvious?

He reviews the past few days and wonders where he slipped, nothing rings any bell. Harry completely and conveniently forgets how he doesn't nag her for having a smoke after dinner, instead he just opens the window and stands close to it, or how he's been making her a cuppa everyday at noon. But it was the time when Jane asked him to help her French plait her hair when something clicked in Jeff's brain, the way Harry beamed at such a simple request left no room for questioning. Yet he asked him, because there was that tiny chance of it all being part of the manager's imagination, but when he looked back on it, the little things now made more sense to him and in a way he always knew.

They've been in Port Antonio for two weeks now and everything was going just dandy, Harry was writing more than ever, the first week he had a new song every day, he even polished the old ones and had a tune for his favourites, thanks to Mitch's help. When Jeff Azoff got there earlier this week, he spent a good two hours talking to Jeff Bhasker about how much of a good idea the trip was.

"Harry is on a writing spree." He complimented Azoff's client, it was nothing but the truth. However the reason for it all, was now heading back to the house to join the others after a good surfing session.

Jane went straight to take a shower, ready to rinse all the ocean's saltiness from her body, thinking how wonderful it would've been if her own worries could be washed away with her tangerine shampoo. In contrast to Harry's good spirits and excellent mood, her own cloud of trouble seemed to follow her all the way from London. She still hadn't heard from her husband, so it is safe to say he was still upset about her going away to work in Harry's album. It was impossible for her to forget the argument they had, at first thinking it was a joke on his side, insinuating that they were ‘shagging behind his back’.

After her shower, wearing comfortable clothes, Jane joins the others for supper but keeps to herself, still with the dichotomy about calling Alex or letting him be. He will eventually come to his senses and apologise.

What if he doesn't?

The thought alone of her clothes being packed in boxes by the time she gets back home almost makes her cry, perhaps she can call or text him just to test the waters. It is ridiculous how she seems to be more mature about this than him.

"Penny for them?" Harry's voice brings her back to the now empty dining room, the voices from the rest of their party can be heard from the living room.

"God I'm sorry H, lost myself out there for a moment," she is embarrassed, with him, the others and herself for letting this situation get under her skin. And she's also avoiding talking about it, with Harry or anyone. "I was just thinking about the tempo for Sweet Creature."

"Liar," he hates to be shut down by her more than anything. "Is it because I didn't let you eat the last peanut drop the other day?" It would've been easier for her to say it was, than to address the actual reason. But Harry hasn't lied to her, ever.

"No love, although I was a bit hurt because of that, it's actually this thing with Alex we are, I don't know, he was upset with me and said some things," Jane couldn't finish, her speech was cut short by a quiet sob and Harry was quick to pull her from the chair onto his lap and hold her tight. His own heart speeding at the sight of her distressed.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Two weeks ago." Her voice barely whispers on his chest, "he's being a wanker to be honest, just because he's not going on tour with any of his bands I'm supposed to be a stay at home wife!"

"Why don't you explain this to me, from the beginning, please?" He asks rubbing her back soothingly, and she spills it all, the having kids now or never argument, to her wanting to have a proper wedding party and finally the latest fight where Alex suggested an affair going on between her and Harry, the latter had to do his best not to put the option on the table, since her husband so kindly suggested it. Might as well, he thought. "It all sounds like a big misunderstanding, I know you're a great communicator sunshine, so it baffles me that you've let this go on for so long." He's got a point.

"You're right, but I feel like it's his turn, you know?" Jane's done weeping, but remained on her friend's lap and arms, head resting on his shoulder. "He's always forward, mature, a proper thirty year old except when it comes to arguments where we ought to reach an agreement," she plays a bit with the cross hanging from his neck, a scowl on her pretty face. "Like with the children thing, we only stopped arguing when I said that maybe in two more years we could have one instead of, you know, my early thirties." It's good that she can't see how upset Harry is.

"You gave into that one, he should do the same but it's his choice," Harry sighs and can't believe what he's about to say. "Take the day off tomorrow, call him or FaceTime, Skype whatever you choose, but have a proper conversation with him." She wants to argue and say it's not necessary to be absent the whole day, she can spare a few hours. But she will need time to think about what to say, make her point clear so they are on good terms until she goes back to London.

"Fine, but if he is still acting like a dickhead afterwards, I'm not going to let it into my head anymore, we will continue to bask in this great work environment going on here." Jane states, pulling away from his embrace just enough to give him that stern look she uses when trying to make a point, and Harry nods with a warm smile, the one she never gets tired of seeing. "I'll call it a night now, gonna be asleep in seconds now that I've got that out of my chest." She stands from his lap, missing his warmth instantly. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime honey pie." Harry says before leaving a kiss on her left hand that burns her skin from then till morning.

Jeff joins the musician in the dining room right after the girl walks away to her room, he takes a seat across from him and scrutinises the look of adoration his friend still sports once she is out of the room.

"She'll never know, if you never tell her." Jeff is right, but the thought alone of going through that again scares him to death. Or so he says, because there's a part of him that is fond of the thrill it makes him feel.

"It's not like I haven't tried, just last year I told her," Harry remembers that night vividly, how pretty she looked even with her makeup all smudged under her eyes. "I'm not sure if she heard, it was too loud like where we were at the time." He was also pissed out of his mind.

"H, there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"I'm not saying it is, but even if she did love me I– I would find a way to hurt her. Anyway. she's happily married now, it's too late." Saying it out loud doesn't hurt him any less like he thought it would. Harry sighs in defeat before rising from the chair, "she's everything to me, I wouldn't mess with her head by confessing my feelings, deep down I always knew she deserved better and now she has it and that's good enough for me." The musician disappears through the corridor where his everlasting love did just a few minutes ago, he paused for a moment outside her room, pondering whether to barge in and just follow his instincts, kiss her like he should've done after winning that award back in 2014.

Harry shakes his head and goes straight to his room, he reminds himself that it was time to let her go. It's for the best. He is not good enough for her, he can't even write a song for her, about her. He mustn't love her that much then.

What Harry doesn't know is that he can't write a song about her because he loves her too much, the poor lad can't even figure out where to start. But he's about to get rid of that curse in a day or two, he just needs to be patient.

The reward for it came, all of a sudden Harry wrote too many songs about her until she inevitably became aware of the situation they were in. Harry vowed to stay away from Jane’s life after recording the album. He dated people that didn’t remind him of her, and even moved temporarily to Japan. But despite all his efforts, four years later Harry still finds himself thinking about her, everything seems to be tainted by her. The music he adores, the new dinner recipes he cooks, the books he chooses to read.

Completely out of options he agreed to this blind date his friends set up for him.

He arrives at the modest restaurant they so kindly chose for the occasion. “All you have to do is wear something nice and show up.” Alexa reminded him over the phone last week.

This is a new first for him, it is also exciting, to take a seat at a table for two conveniently placed at the back, pretend to pay attention to the menu but let his green eyes avert to whoever approaches. Harry is having a great time, he knows that soon his date will arrive. He wonders what they’ll be like.

According to Alexa and Pixie, the person arriving is the perfect match for their young friend. Harry can only hope they like Vietnamese cuisine because that’s apparently this place’s special offer this week. If he’s lucky enough the date will agree to share a starter and perhaps two main courses, that way he doesn’t have to choose between one or the other.

“Here’s your table.” Harry hears the waiter speak and his gaze meets a very familiar figure standing beside him. It can’t be.

“Excuse me, there must be a mistake, I’m waiting for someone else.” Harry protests.

The waiter shakes his head and shows him the notepad with some specifications written down. “Nothing wrong, got specific instructions from Miss Chung, a lady will come in to say is here for Geldolf’s blind date, you are sitting at the table they reserved. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” He is quick to explain and disappear.

Jane sits because there is no way she can stand any longer, her legs are about to give out from the commotion. This was not the blind date she was expecting either. It’s been at least four years since she last saw Harry. The night after he finally admitted being in love with her, waiting for a reaction, anything from her, after what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes later, he walked out of her house and entire life, leaving her confused and upset.

“How’ve you been?” she asked after confirming that Harry wasn’t going to up and leave.

“Pretty fantastic, until you arrived.” He’s never spoken to her like that before, with so much affliction in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was set up on a blind date by Pixie—

He interrupts her. “That’s fucking convenient, did you all went to this much trouble, just to mock me? I thought they were my friends, you know, that even after everything, they cared about me.” Harry stops, his voice breaks, he’s so angry, hurt and confused by the situation. “Did your husband come along, to witness my humiliation too?” He looks around, trying to find the man of Jane’s dreams.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s here, haven’t seen him since we got divorced three years ago.” She snaps before hiding behind the menu from a gobsmacked Harry.

The words he’d been waiting to hear were finally out of her mouth. Unlike the million times he dreamt about this happening, Harry is not sweeping her off her feet and running away into the sunset holding her hand. Instead he reaches out to touch her arm, testing the waters. He waits for her to lower the menu and surprisingly there are no tears in her eyes. Perhaps only a bit of sorrow that is quickly replaced with confusion, at how fast her heart raced after Harry’s touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is back to oozing the tenderness he reserves just for her. Jane nods.

“But can we share a rice bowl and Pho noodle soup?”

“Yes, and dessert too!” Even after four years Harry’s sweet tooth hasn’t changed, Jane sighs before the waiter is back to take their order.

Keeping a conversation between the two of them is not hard at all, even if it is an awkward topic —her not so recent divorce. “We didn’t have anything in common anymore, there were so many fights every single day. When I finally suggested the separation, he seemed relieved and I felt like a complete fool.” Jane remembers the sigh of comfort that came out of the man she once loved with all her heart before that rainy afternoon, when she finally decided that she’d had enough. “He left that night, hadn’t seen him since, his lawyer took care of everything,” a sour laugh escapes her lips, Harry’s eyes are full of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry for ruining your blind date, I know you’ve never been to one before.” Of course she did, she knows him better than anyone.

“This has to be the greatest date I’ve ever been to.” He speaks without a second thought.

All those years Harry spent away from Jane were not going to be in vain. He was not going to neglect the feelings he still had for her. That affection he felt for her, only her. Harry shifts in his seat, this is not at all how he planned it, in a restaurant full of people on fucking Valentine’s day. It almost seemed like a tacky move.

But after all this time of pining for her, hating her and himself at times. Harry was brave enough, it was now or never, he didn’t want to wait any longer, not after his friends schemed and executed this soppy plan to bring the two soulmates together. Before she could take the final bite of dessert that Harry kindly left for her. The world stopped.

“I don’t want this to end...” Harry says with a dimpled smile she can’t look away from. “I’d like to take you out on a second date, a third, fourth, fifth. Believe me when I tell you, I have planned up to a thousand of them.” He takes her hand in his and can feel her pulse race along his own. The smile splits his face again, because he knows, he feels, he sees it in her beautiful eyes. “Janey, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. I know there is a name for this emotion, I’ve written songs about it, but now I don’t think it’s a word big enough for us.”

She squeezes his hand and breaths out a laugh, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. “Let’s call it love, until we come up with a better name for it.” Harry agrees and just then, Jane brings up his hand to her lips.

His skin tingles where she kisses him for the first time and he beams at her.

There’s a first for everything, and although it feels like it for Jane and Harry, this isn’t by any means the first time they confess their love for each other. It was always there, in every laugh they shared, every song they wrote together, every touch. It was on Harry’s unwavering devotion, on his impatience and selfless actions throughout the years.

They were bound to be together, their story didn’t begin on that initial blind date, it did years ago after he caught a glimpse of her shiny black hair on the morning she moved into the house across the street.

Harry drives her back to her new flat on the other side of the city, enjoying every minute of the long ride, happy to hear her ramble about her newest obsession with romantic novels and burst out laughing after Jane confesses that sometimes she doesn’t finish reading books she likes, just to pretend the story keeps going. With a quick kiss to the back of her hand he completely agrees.

No tale is more compelling than one that never ends.

#1dffvalentine #harry styles

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cyclogenesis · 3 years ago

Note

i have to tell you that the second i saw cal and ash on that mountain getaway a couple weeks ago, i thought about how desperately i would love a sequel to your turks & caicos fic set during that trip. (this is not a request, i promise, i just wanted to tell you bc that is one of my fav fics of all time)

Aw anon!! 🥺 Gosh I hadn't even thought about that when I was in my feelings about the mountain getaway pictures, which is wild because I am just remembering now that I started a fic after the honeymoon comment initially happened (like, very soon after, because @elliebirdthings was at that show and told me about it and we were freaking out haha), before we knew that they went to Turks & Caicos, and I had them taking that trip to a cabin in Maine.

Just for kicks, because this message made me smile and I love you for that, here's the beginning of that fic. It's unfinished obviously (not even any kissing!), but there's some nice stuff in there I think. This fic was going to be titled A whole fucking lifetime of this after the American Pleasure Club album which was a title I should have kept, goddammit. Also randomly in here I have them driving to the cabin while listening to My Bloody Valentine, who Ashton later called out as one of his main influences for Superbloom.

1600 words of unfinished Cashton under the cut! 😘

The day after the last meeting about the promo schedule the dressing room conversation turns, as it does, to plans for the break. It’s a month out, but they’ve to a man developed a fetish for planning their free time carefully as soon as the schedule’s set. Planning things makes Ashton feel like a grown-up. He likes renting cars. Sometimes he scrolls through AirBnB for hours just to see what’s out there.

“I’m going straight back, we got Dodgers tickets,” Michael says.

“I remember when you used to say ‘we’ and it meant you and me,” Calum says. He wiggles a little from where he’s snuggled against Michael on the couch like he wants to get away, but of course Michael doesn’t let him. Ashton thinks he probably wasn’t really trying.

“Aw, you’ll always be my first love,” Michael tells him, squeezing Calum to him more tightly. “You wanna make out just for old times sake?”

“I do not,” says Calum, but he lets Michael give him a big kiss on the forehead, his face squinching up happily.

“I just wanna get away for a bit, no work or social media or anything,” says Ashton, ignoring their tomfoolery. “A little cabin by a lake somewhere.”

“Oh yeah?” Luke says. “Where are you and Cal going this time?”

“Maine,” Calum says, at the same time as Ashton says, “Why would you assume we’re going somewhere together?”

A small silence falls over the room.

With dignity, Ashton says, “Calum and I are going to Maine.”

“Just get out in front of it this time,” Michael advises. “Let everyone know it’s another honeymoon. Take control of the narrative.”

“How many times can you go on a honeymoon before you have to acknowledge that you’re married?” Luke asks nobody in particular.

“It’s a bro trip,” Ashton says firmly. “For bros.”

“It’s very bromantic,” Luke says. “It’s okay, I’m not hurt I wasn’t invited. I love going back to LA and jerking off alone.”

“It’s nice that we’ve all got plans,” Calum says. He’s settled peacefully back against Michael, Michael absently petting his hair.

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Ashton insists.

Whatever, Ashton called it what he called it, okay? Might as well control the narrative.

Over drinks at the bar after their last show Calum asks, “Where would you want to go on your honeymoon, anyway? Somewhere new?”

Ashton pokes at the ice in his cocktail with his straw. Aren’t they supposed to not be using straws anymore because of the ocean or whatever? Ashton loves the ocean, it’s very important to him. Also this cocktail sucks. “Can I try your drink?” he asks. “I don’t love mine.” Calum has something with ginger in it, and bubbles. Calum slides his obligingly over, and Ashton passes his own over to be fair.

“I like yours better,” Calum says after a sip. “You wanna trade?”

Sometimes Ashton does believe in soulmates. “Yes, thank you.” He takes a long drink. “It would be nice to spend more time in Italy. Not one of the tourist-y parts though, somewhere quiet. Up north, maybe, one of the smaller towns.” He tries to picture what it would be like: olive groves, blue skies, stone churches. An old villa with lemon trees and a view of the hills. He’s so used to traveling with the band or just with Calum that it’s hard to picture anyone else there with him. They’re all as prone as anyone to get swept up with girls to the exclusion of most everything else, but Ashton can’t really imagine a future without seeing Calum all the time, without talking to him every day. Maybe he and Calum could just get married around the same time and they could all go on a honeymoon together.

“Yeah, that’d be pretty nice,” Calum says, looking wistful. Ashton wants to take a picture of him, capture the way a curl rests against his temple, how the blue neon lights behind the bar hit the glitter he let Ashton smear on his cheekbones before the show. They made a no social media pledge for this trip but Ashton’s bringing his camera anyway. He has to keep in practice, doesn’t he? Anyway, it’s important to capture these memories.

“Maybe we should just go,” Ashton tells him. “Why not? Who knows how long it could take for me to fool someone into living with this forever?” He sucks down the last of his drink, feeling sorry for himself now. What if he falls in love and she moves in and Calum stops coming over in the morning to walk to their favorite coffee shop together, and stops picking Ashton up so they can go hike Runyon, and stops bringing Duke over like he owns the damn place and doesn’t care about the dog hair that Ashton has to hoover off his couch pillows? That would be terrible. Worst of all, what if it was Ashton that suddenly wanted those things to stop?

“I’ll live with you forever,” Calum says, too busy flagging down the bartender to intuit Ashton’s emotional crisis. He gestures to Ashton’s empty drink. “Another one of those, right?” His own is still half full. Maybe he didn’t really like Ashton’s better after all.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Ashton sighs.

Calum bumps his knee against Ashton’s, the barstool squeaking beneath him. “Ash, you’re gonna find somebody if that’s what you want. Anyone would be the luckiest person alive to be with you. Maybe we could do Italy after the tour wraps, we’ll finish in Spain so it won’t be far.”

The thought cheers Ashton a bit; that’s a decent amount of time to get on AirBnB and see what he can find that’s available. It’ll be nice to have something to look forward to, Italian sunshine and limoncello and the quiet.

“Mike and Luke will definitely give us shit though about planning another honeymoon while we’re still on this one,” Calum says.

“Let ‘em,” says Ashton.

It’s not a long flight but it’s a bit of a drive from there to get to the cabin. But Calum said he wanted something remote and quiet, so it’s worth the wait, the drive in the dark. There’s moonlight, anyway, and Calum took the wheel, getting them the rest of the way there in their little silver Prius rental. He puts on My Bloody Valentine and sings along, low and comforting to listen to after so many days straight of playing, of promo. Halfway through the trip Ashton thinks he sees a shooting star, maybe thought he dreamed it until he felt Calum’s soft nudge of knuckles against his arm, heard his quiet, “You see that, bro?”

The way gets bumpy, thick with trees, dark and hard to navigate once they turn off the main road. At the end of it all there’s the cabin, looming in the dark, lights left on for them and the key exactly where it’s supposed to be. It’s past one a.m. but they still give the place a wander, stopping at the largest bedroom facing the lake. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows Ashton sees trees, darkness, the black glitter of water under starlight. Calum asks, “You want this one?”

Ashton looks further and just sees more darkness. “It’s kind of unnerving at night,” he says. “Anyone could be out there.” The other bedroom has smaller windows, but the point stands. “Do you wanna just watch TV or something in here and then decide?”

“If we get axe murdered here I hope our ghosts come back and leave a one star review,” Calum says, but he’s already shrugging his duffel off his shoulders and kicking off his shoes.

The host left them a bottle of pinot grigio so Ashton pours up a few glasses while Calum strips down to his boxers and gets in bed. The boxers have cartoon pugs all over them. “I can’t believe that’s the lingerie you’re wearing for our honeymoon,” Ashton says, handing him a glass. “I also can’t believe those boxers even exist.”

Calum raises it to him in a salute and takes a sip. “These boxers are fantastic, but I guess if you want me to take them off…” he trails off, eyebrow raised, thumb hooked in the waistband pushing them down past his hipbone, then further until Ashton can see the crease of his thigh.

“No, no,” Ashton says hurriedly, “I’m just saying, what’s wrong with a nice pair of footie pajamas? Keeps you warm. Keeps you modest.” Nevertheless he shucks his own clothes except for his own (very grown-up, perfectly normal, in a flattering shade of dark green) boxers and joins Calum in bed. Calum’s already stopped paying attention to him, too busy trying to figure out how to work the remote. He finally gets the screen to flash on, and Ashton stays quiet, sipping his wine while Calum flips channels, finally landing on something in black and white. Cary Grant comes on screen but Ashton still isn’t sure what movie it is; Calum seems interested enough, setting the remote down between them, so he doesn’t complain. The wine goes down easy and Ashton does too after not too long.

He rolls onto his side and sees that Calum’s eyes are already closed. It doesn’t look like he’s asleep yet; it always takes him a bit, leaving him in a dozy stage for about ten minutes during which he might respond crankily to any communication or with adorable mumbling affection. Ashton turns the sound down and says, as quietly as he can, “TV off?” Calum’s eyes don’t open, but he nods a little. “Okay. You want me to go sleep in the other room?”

Calum moves then, a sleepy shift of his body, fumbling a hand up and blindly patting the sheet until he makes contact with Ashton’s hand on the remote and squeezes it, links their fingers together like he can’t quite figure out how to make it work. It feels nice. “’S’okay,” he murmurs. “Stay here.”

Ashton didn’t feel like getting up anyway.

#asks #anonymous #cashton #my fic #5sos #extremely hurtful btw to look at my 5sos unfinished fic folder #1k of lashton living together #2k of cashton h/c #2k of ot4 #4k of mashton that was going to become ot4 #6k of calum/ashton/luke which is the one i'm probably most mad about it bc there's so much good stuff in there #rip my sweet children you were fun while you lasted #OH MY GOD and the almost 5k of michael/luke in an au where 5sos were a queercore band #i am sorry stories!! i wanted better for all of you!!!!!

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years ago

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Valentine’s Day Surprise - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 1)

*Companion to This Christmas

You sat in front of your computer bundled up in your favorite hoodie and blanket combination. You made yourself some hot chocolate that you sipped on as you went over the changes you needed to make in your book. Your latest draft was back from your beta readers and now it was time to write yet another draft.

It was in the dead of winter in London and it was currently snowing outside of your window. You would be much warmer if you were sitting away from the window, but you had to have a window view when you were writing. Plus, the snow was so pretty. You would always be a lot warmer if you weren’t lonely in the house, knowing your boyfriend was thousands of miles away in sunny California.

Yep, that’s right, you and Harry were still together. Not that you doubted you would be, but it still felt weird to say. You weren’t living together yet, you still had your flat, while he had his massive home. But you did spend a lot of your time at his house or vice versa. Except the last few weeks since he’s been gone for work.

You missed him, a lot, and it’s really been the first time you two have been away from the other since you got back into each other’s lives last Christmas. But he had a movie to shoot, along with various other things he had to do and you had a book to work on.

Speaking of said book, you had spent nearly the entire day typing away and making the changes that were suggested. Even though the book was still not the best yet, it was without a doubt going to be your favorite book you’ve written thus far. And that had everything to do with the meaning behind it.

It was about two friends falling in love during the holiday season, which is exactly what happened with you and Harry. Granted, you two were already in love, but it took some reconnection to finally get you two to express your feelings to the other. You knew when the book would be released and you were being interviewed about it, someone would ask you where you got the idea or inspiration for it and you would have to tell them.

You wouldn’t tell them details or anything, not that anyone even knew you and Harry were together. Not really anyway. The two of you hadn’t really been spotted out together and even if you have, everyone knows your history of being friends, so the whole dating rumors haven’t really been sparked quite yet.

You were fine with that for the time being. You knew how things got, at least from an outside view, whenever he was dating someone, so the longer you could avoid that the better. But you knew one day, it would come out and hopefully knowing the history you have with Harry will make it not as bad.

Your neck was starting to hurt and your head was throbbing from looking at the screen all day. So, you decided to call it day and resume again tomorrow. You were halfway through with the revisions, which wasn’t normal for you, knowing you had just finished a draft not too long ago. But that’s what happens when you’re really passionate and don’t have distractions around.

You shut your computer and headed over to the couch in the living area, plopping down right onto the cushions. You stretched out and closed your eyes for a bit, trying to give them a rest. In that moment, you wished Harry was there because you needed a serious massage of your neck and shoulders.

After laying there for a few moments, you slowly started to drift off asleep, when your phone rang. You groaned, debating on letting it go to voicemail or answering it. However, when you glanced over and saw Harry’s photo, you decided on the latter.

You clicked on the green button and soon Harry’s face was looking back at you.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled.

“Hi,” you yawned, sitting up at a better angle.

“Were you sleeping? Is this a bad time?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I was just resting my eyes,” you said. “Too much screen time today.”

“Remember, you’re supposed to look 20 feet away every twenty minutes for twenty seconds,” he said.

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t have time for that.”

“You do,” he laughed. “Just set a timer on your phone or something.”

“Easier said than done,” you said. “You know if I’m in the zone, it’s hard to stop until I’m at a stopping point.”

“Well, then don’t complain if you’re not going to do it,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes again, “I wouldn’t have to worry about it, if I had someone here to rub my shoulders.”

“You better be talking about me and not just any someone,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, I don’t want random people touching me,” you shuddered.

He laughed.

“But seriously, how much longer till your back?” You asked.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, “A few more weeks, at the least... another month or so, at the most.”

“I thought you were almost finished,” you said.

“We are, but then there’s some reshoots and some stuff we’re doing for promo,” he said. “Plus, I’ve got some meetings out here for the next album.”

“So, then I guess this means we won’t be together for Valentine’s Day,” you whispered.

“Not in person, no,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, love.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sighed. “I mean... it’s not that big of a deal. Its not really genuine holiday and I’ve never really cared about celebrating it before... but like I don’t know, I just thought maybe it would be fun. Plus, I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he said. “I promise we’ll figure it out, okay? We can facetime or zoom. Watch some romcoms and eat chocolates.... maybe have some fun on camera,” he smirked.

“You wish,” you scoffed. “I don’t trust technology that much. I don’t need someone hacking in and starting an Only Fans with my pictures!”

“Have you been watching Catfish again?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’m using it for research for another novel idea I have,” you defended.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he joked.

“Anyway,” you said. “I guess us having a little virtual date wouldn’t be a horrible option. It would be better than not doing anything at all.”

“Then it’s settled,” he smiled. “We’ll come up with something fun to do and pick a time that works with the time zones and it’ll be as perfect as it can be, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Great, I just wanted to check in and tell you I love and miss you,” he said. “So, I’ll let you get back to resting your eyes and watching Catfish.”

“Ha, ha,” you said. “But I love and miss you, too.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, see you later,” you smiled, blowing him a kiss before hanging up the phone.

You sighed, placing the phone down as the realization of Harry not being coming home for another few weeks hit you. You knew this would happened. It’s what has happened throughout your entire friendship, but you thought you had grown and it wouldn’t hurt as much.

But you were wrong. It did hurt knowing you two wouldn’t be together for Valentine’s Day. Even though you never cared about the holiday before, this year felt different. You wanted it to be this amazing and special day spent with the man you loved. The man you had waited years to finally be with, but now it was going to happen through a screen and him miles away.

Harry felt bad the second he ended the FaceTime call with you. Even though you had put on a smile, he knew you well enough that you were disappointed. Him not being around was part of the reason why your friendship ended the first go around and he made it his mission to never let your relationship end because of that.

He loved you. You are his person and he just got you back into his life. He didn’t want the possibility of you leaving it to ever cross your mind. He had to come up with something to make sure he was there with you. Valentine’s Day was in a little over a week, surely that would give him enough time to figure out a plan.

“Harold, hello,” a voice called out from behind him.

“Oh, what?” He asked turning around to see his manager waving his hands around.

“What’s got you out of it?” Jeff asked.

“I uh... I just finished talking with Y/N,” he sighed. “I told her I wasn’t sure when I’ll be back... and she mentioned missing out on Valentine’s Day...”

“Well, I mean it is just Valentine’s Day,” he pointed out. “Many people don’t do anything on the actual day anymore anyway.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Harry shook his head. “You’ve been in a relationship for years. This is our first one and Y/N... she’s not normally someone who falls into the whole Valentine’s Day thing... but I could tell she ws looking forward to doing something.”

“Why can’t she just come here, then?” Jeff suggested. “Her schedule is a little easier to move around right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t mean it to come out like it sounded,” he said. “I just meant that what you’re working on has to be done here in LA... she’s working on something that she just needs wifi and a laptop... that can be done anywhere.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one gone... I shouldn’t have to make her uproot her work,” Harry said.

“Look, do what you want to do, but I’m telling you there’s hardly anytime to travel to London and back with your schedule the way it is,” he said.

“Gee, you’re a wonderful help,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jeff responded, holding his up.

“I told her I’m going to figure something out and I will,” he said. “If I have to move or postpone things around, I will. Y/N’s important to me and being with her will always be my priority over a meeting that can be an email or postponed to a later date.”

“I get that, Harry,” he said. “But you can’t always be the one who does that or else you’re going to end up being resentful.”

“You know, I thought you were happy Y/N and I were together, but now it seems a lot like you wish I was single,” Harry snapped.

“I didn’t say that,” Jeff said. “I just know how you are, H. At the beginning of a relationship, you’re doing everything to make it work, and eventually you get tried of it and things go south. I know how much you love, Y/N and I don’t want to see it end because I don’t know if you could come back from that.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Harry said. “You don’t want me to change my schedule around to go see my girlfriend because you’re afraid I’ll be doing too much and eventually I’ll break it off?”

“Just think about it,” Jeff said. “If you do this for Valentine’s Day, then what if she expects it any other time. Will she ever be the person who changes her schedule around for you, or will it always be you because you have the most on your plate.”

“Y/N isn’t like that,” he said. “She’s not even asking me to do this.”

“No yet, at least,” he said. “But once she realizes that you can...”

“No, I done listening to this,” Harry said. “You know one day, I’m going to get married, right? And I’m going to have kids, right? So eventually, yeah, I’m going to have to change my scheduled or not do things because I need to be with my family.”

“Exactly, so why waste opportunities now?” Jeff asked.

“Because opportunities will always be there to take, Y/N may not be,” Harry said before grabbing his things and walking out the door.

Sooo... what do you think? It’s been a while since I’ve felt like writing... so hopefully it isn’t too bad.

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fan fic

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago

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Trust Me

Summary: Rafael’s First case since coming home has Rebecca antsy, but it also gives them a way to tell people about Catalina.

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OC

A/N: Is this a series? Sure? I can’t stop won’t stop. This one comes before the Valentine’s One Shot

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - This one - Part Five (Valentine’s)

“It’s just a meeting,” Rafael whispered, curled beside Rebecca in bed. He’d gone back to his apartment to get more clothes, but for the most part, Rafael hadn’t left Rebecca’s side since spending Christmas Eve with her and Catalina. He liked the mornings most. They would both wake up before Catalina, laying in bed and playing with each other’s hair and chatting about what the day would hold. She’d kissed him in front of Catalina the day before, and the little girl barely noticed. He was getting excited for Rebecca to go back to work as it neared because he’d get to spend days he wasn’t in court or meeting with inmates taking care of Catalina.

“I’m just nervous. You’ve changed. I’ve been able to tell, but it’s only been a week and a half.”

“I know. But I’m not jeopardizing all of this. I might take defense work. I told you that and Olivia knows that.”

“Promise you’ll keep being communicative?”

“I swear to you, Becca. I know it’ll take time for you to feel like I’m not lying.”

“I don’t think you’re lying,” she murmured, propping her chin in her hand to watch him. “I just gotta get used to non-workaholic Rafael.”

“Now I’m sappy family man Rafael, apparently. I’ll be a house husband if that’s what makes things work best.”

She grinned, kissing him softly. It had been nice to see him like this, content to stay home and be together. For once, he wasn’t chasing success, trying to prove he deserved everything he’d gotten. What had been exceptionally nice was seeing him more emotional than she thought he’d be. They’d watched Up, and he’d laid back on the couch and cried throughout the emotional parts, sniffing and pretending he hadn’t when Catalina mentioned it.

“Mama? Mr. Barba?” they heard echo from down the hall, and Rafael smiled softly. He’d been there ten mornings now, but this was the first one she expected to see him.

“Let’s go get the kiddo,” she grinned, kissing his temple.

“She called for me too,” he said proudly, slipping into his sweats. When they got to her room, Catalina climbed out of the bed, sticking her arms up. Rafael picked her up happily, bouncing her on his hip.

“Morning mija,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

“Morning Mr. Barba.”

“I have to work today. Can you keep an eye on mami?”

“Si! Does that mean you have to go home?”

“No. I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.” He gave Rebecca a meaningful look she knew meant I really will be here for dinner this time, and she hoped it was true. Rebecca took Catalina downstairs to make breakfast, and Rafael showered and dressed. It was oddly soothing to see him in the pink and blue shirt and jeans, casual coat slung over his shoulder and casual shoes in hand. She relaxed when she saw him, and he smiled softly.

As promised, he was home that night in time for dinner, and though he looked tired, he looked content still. They ate together, moving to the living room. He worked on the couch as Catalina played and Rebecca folded laundry. It made more sense why she just wanted him there now. Maybe he wasn’t paying them active attention, but he was there to watch Catalina dance through the room or help Rebecca tote the laundry basket. He could almost understand why his presence made her happy.

“I’m shaving before jury selection,” he told her, legal pad on the arm of the couch, Catalina having fallen asleep with her head on his lap. The pen in his hand hovered over the page, and he knew the nonchalance was feigned.

“No,” Rebecca whined softly, and Rafael couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned into her touch as she scratched along his jaw.

“Clean shaven men are perceived as more friendly and more sociable. I don’t need unconscious biases added to my personality.”

“I don’t like defense work now.”

“I think I can pull it off when it isn’t such a controversial case.”

“We’ll be telling her the truth tomorrow then. Beard’s the only thing keeping you incognito.”

“Are you okay with that? I can stay at my house.”

“No, I’m okay with it. I trust you. I wanted to wait longer, but you’re doing really well. You’re an amazing secret dad, and I know you’re not going anywhere.” He nodded, going back to work again. Rebecca sat in an armchair, notebook of plans for when school started again in her lap. It was more peaceful than it had ever been to be home with him as he worked. He hummed softly, hand not writing staying on Catalina’s side. When he came to bed, his beard was gone, and he seemed more self conscious than she expected.

“She’s going to know you’re her dad now,” Rebecca said, fingers trailing his jaw. “You look exactly the same.”

“I look older now,” he pouted. “My suits are mostly too small now too.”

“You’re just as hot, Rafi. Beard or no beard. And I like the little bit of weight. You’re so handsome. Total DILF.”

“Dios mio,” he said, rolling his eyes. “DILF? Really?”

“Do I gotta remind you, counsellor?” He groaned softly as she pulled him in, and he let her remind him. In fact, he was lucky enough to wake up to sleepy kisses and an eagerness to remind him again. As they laid together catching their breath, Rafael peppered kisses to her shoulder. This was a much better way to spend the morning before court than running out the door and eating a danish frantically as he walked from his office. Who’d have thought a five o’clock wake up could always be so enjoyable?

“We’ll miss you today,” Rebecca whispered, brushing his hair back.

“I’ll miss you both. You certainly gave me a lovely wake up call, mami.”

“Mmm, can you blame me, papi? Getting to see you every day?” He chuckled when he heard movement down the hall, tossing her his shirt as he pulled on his sweats.

“Mija’s up.”

“We’ll see how long before she guesses.” They made their way to her room, and their question was quickly answered when a wide awake Catalina examined Rafael’s face seriously. She seemed unsure, arms crossed.

“Good morning mija,” he said softly, and it seemed to connect he was Mr. Barba was the beardless man in her room. She climbed from the bed, going to her book case where the little photo album sat. It held pictures of Al and Rodney, Rebecca, and Catalina as she grew up, but it also held the picture of Rafael that Rebecca used to talk about him.

“Mr. Barba looks like daddy. Is he daddy?” Rebecca didn’t know what to say. She’d thought it might be the end of the day before pieces were strung together, but Rafael dropped to sit on the ground.

“I am your daddy,” he said softly. “I wanted to let you know me first before we told you.”

“Where were you?”

“I was working a long way away. I couldn’t be here, but I am now. And I’ll never go away, mija. I like being your daddy too much.”

“Do I hafta call you Mr. Barba?”

“No.”

“How do you say daddy in spanish?”

“Papi.”

“Can we make cinnamon rolls, papi?”

“Yeah, of course,” he whispered, eyes watering as he pulled her in close for a hug. Rebecca hadn’t expected it to go so well, but she should have known Catalina was both too young to really get he’d been gone and too happy to have Rafael, her father or not, around to really care. “Papi has to shower. Is it okay if mami helps with cinnamon rolls, and I’ll help ice them?”

“That’s okay,” she nodded, kissing his cheek. Catalina went to get her bear, and Rebecca kissed Rafael sweetly. He squeezed her hand, happy tears still in his eyes as he smiled at her. As quickly as he could, he showered and dressed, jacket, socks, and shoes on the couch as he held Catalina on his hip and helped her ice the cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven.

Rebecca had already noticed in the two days of this trial that Rafael was making home and work boundaries. Once he got home, he’d immediately hang his jacket and take off his shoes, ready to talk about the day. They ate together happily, and she knew this was going to be a late night. He’d told her he was going for jury nullification, and in the biggest change, he’d explained the process to her and what it meant. She had an idea of why he’d be late and how much of the day would be spent charming and selecting a jury.

“Hey,” she answered when he called at lunch.

“Hey. I just wanted to hear your voice.” He sounded tired, but also happy to be back in court in New York.

“Yeah? Got spoiled being home, huh?”

“Yeah. How’s Cat?”

“She’s really good. Al stopped by to talk about the first day back. She told him all about how much fun she’s been having with papi.”

“I bet he loved that.”

“You’re growing on him. I tell him every time you do good stuff. And you haven’t really done anything bad.”

“You gossip about me?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Al’s been through too much with me. But he can see you’re different too.”

“Fair. Can I start gossiping with Rodney?”

“Honestly, yeah. You two will probably end up pretty close.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He had to figure out how to share and all that stuff too. I think that’s why Al can accept your change. His husband had to grow. Rodney was really guarded.”

“I just want to come be with my girls.”

“We’ll be here, Raf. Cat may be asleep when you get home, but I’ll put french toast casserole in the fridge. Stick it in the oven in the morning so we get family time.”

“I can’t wait. I have to go back in. Te amo, mi corazón.”

“I love you, Rafi.”

He came home that night, laying his jacket over the back of the couch and taking off his shoes. Rebecca had been in the kitchen, and she leaned over the back of the couch to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He put his hands on her forearms, smiling when she pressed a kiss against his temple.

“Long day?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, closing his eyes as his head leaned back. “I got a good jury though. And Carisi has become a great attorney. I’m proud of him.”

“Tell him that.”

“He won’t believe me.”

“Could mean something.”

“He’s going black and white. That’s the only thing that worries me.”

“Maybe talk to him when there’s some time between you and the trial?”

“I may do that. I’ve gotten relaxed. I don’t think he knows how to handle it. Don’t get me wrong, I was charming their asses off, but I took my jacket off and rolled up my sleeves in the courtroom. But Carisi was on top of it. He’s going to do great tomorrow. I’m a little bit worried.”

“Good. You’re even more charming. Plus hot,” she teased, pouring him a drink. “It sounds like you did a great job helping Carisi along. He’s probably grateful. This trial will throw him off too, going up against his mentor. But, you need to eat, counsellor. I kept you a plate warm.”

“You’re so good to me,” he groaned.

“I love you,” she shrugged, handing him the plate and sitting beside him on the couch. “I like taking care of you.”

Each day of the trial continued the same, and it let Rebecca know she could breathe. He’d have breakfast with them before leaving. At lunch he’d call to check in. Trial days were nicer because he’d walk in just in time for dinner, insisting he get to do the bedtime routine since he hadn’t gotten any time with Catalina that day. Catalina asked about him throughout the day, but after he came home the second day, she also seemed to really trust papi would come home. They’d accepted it was time to move his things to her apartment, even if he kept his a while longer. It was the last day of the trial when Rafael proposed a change.

“Come by the bar after the case,” he murmured as he tied his tie in the mirror. “I want you to meet them.”

“Even Olivia?”

“Even Olivia. Al’s been dying to babysit. Says I’m taking all the Cat time. Come to the bar, then I’ll take you to a nice dinner. Just us. We haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“That sounds perfect, Rafael. Do they know about her?”

“Carisi does because he goes to the same church. He saw us on Christmas Eve. Otherwise? No. But I’m fine with telling them. Just not until after the end of today.”

“Fair,” she smiled, kissing him softly. “I love you. I know it hasn’t been an easy case.”

“It’s been fine. He just needs a defense.” She fixed him with a look and he sighed. “I know. I don’t want to unpack that part until after, but you’re right. People taking life into their own hands is personal. I’m sure Liv will bring it up too. You can bond over making me talk about my feelings.”

“You did the right thing.”

“So did he.”

They had breakfast with Catalina, and it was easy enough to get Al to babysit. Have a date with your reformed ex. Rodney and I will have happy uncle time. Per usual, Catalina was ecstatic to pack a bag to spend time with her uncles. She also always took too much, wanting to be sure she had enough toys to share. Always prepared, like her dad. It was Rebecca who always had to run out to buy a toothbrush or deodorant. Facetime us at lunch so she can see you before she goes to Al’s she sent, laid back on the couch with Catalina on her chest. He sent back an affirmative, letting her know deliberation had started and he’d be setting up camp in a coffee shop nearby. Want company?

“Hiya handsome,” she grinned, answering the nearly instantaneous call.

“Hola, hermosa,” he chuckled. “You two don’t have to do that.”

“I can drop her bag with Rodney. Come have lunch with you before I take her to meet Al. He’s taking her to the Z-O-O, so we’d be that way later anyway.”

“I’d love it then.”

“Half an hour?”

“See you then.”

“Hey, Cat,” she grinned, kissing her temple. “Want to go have lunch with papi before you see Uncle Al?”

“Yes!” she squealed, and Rebecca texted Rodney she’d be dropping the bag by. Once they were both dressed, they walked the couple of blocks to pass off the bag before taking a cab to the coffee shop Rafael had sent her the location for. When they were in the door, she let go of Catalina’s hand and watched as she ran to Rafael who had spotted them as soon as they walked in. He had a cup of coffee in front of him, sliding it aside carefully as he settled her on his lap. It made her emotional to see them together. Since the reveal Mr. Barba was actually papi, he’d been in court, and it was nice to get to slip some time into their day. When she sat, she realized he’d gotten her an iced latte, and Rebecca mouthed a thank you. He shot her a smile as Catalina agreed to settle in the seat beside him.

“How are my girls?” he asked, arm slung behind Catalina and a content smile on his face.

“I think we had a good morning! We watched Moana and packed. Cat’s going to go play with Uncle Al and Uncle Rodney tonight.”

“Mija, that sounds like so much fun!”

“It is, papi!”

“Tell Al and Rodney I say hi.”

“I will!” She saw who she now knew was Carisi come in with a blonde, and when he saw the three of them, he gave them both a nod and their space, telling the blonde to get a table on the sidewalk. Al met them at the diner, Catalina hugging and kissing each of her parents before she took his hand. Rebecca had already put on a pretty dress so that she wouldn’t have to go home, and Rafael’s nervous energy made her glad she wouldn’t be leaving him alone.

“I’m fine,” he fibbed after she asked again. She fixed him with a look, and he held her gaze before letting his shoulders slump forward. “Carisi may win. And with what he offered me to make a deal at the start.”

“Oh no.” She reached across the table, hand resting on his wrist, and Rafael Barba suddenly regretted not being more open with her about anything. That light touch relaxed him, reminded him that while Mickey may end up in prison Rafael had done what he was able to do. Maybe things would have ended differently if he’d had it after cases before.

“Yeah. He’s going to be crushed. But, he admitted things he shouldn’t on the stand. Including a lack of regret.”

“So it’s hard to convince anyone its spur of the moment.”

“And you should have seen Carisi laying that out,” he said with a proud glint in his eye.

“You have to tell him you’re proud of him or I will.” He laughed, and Rebecca went to the courthouse with him to hear the verdict. Mickey was found guilty, just as Rafael expected, and she hugged him gently when he came out. The walk to the bar was comfortably silent as he kept her hand in his, and he smiled to see all of them, save Olivia, at the table.

“Who’s this?” Carisi asked, sending him a knowing smile.

“Rebecca. But don’t play dumb,” Rafael said, ordering their usuals.

“Who’s Rebecca?” Amanda asked, and Rebecca chuckled, taking her drink.

“I’m his girlfriend, and he’s horrible at introductions.” Rafael’s mouth became a straight line, and she elbowed him playfully. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“I’m Amanda. Dominick, Cat, Fin. Liv isn’t here yet.”

“Thank you. I’m glad somebody’ll make introductions.”

“You just wanting to show her off?” Fin joked, and Rafael smiled over at her.

“Maybe. We actually have a sitter, so I’m taking her to dinner.”

“Smoothe, Rafael,” Sonny said plainly as the other three stared. “If I hadn’t been at Christmas Eve mass, I’d be speechless too.”

“You’ve seen the kid?” Amanda asked, and Rebecca was content to watch the chaos. Of course Rafael would drop the fact they have a daughter like that, no back story, no warning. It was very on brand; state the facts and move on. Only this time, he slipped his phone from his pocket and pulled up a picture, one from the other night. A bundled up Catalina was in his lap as they ate, and almost immediately, he swiped to a video of Catalina squealing in delight as he caught her at the end of the slide at the park. Make me fly! she’d giggled, and Rafael lifted her high and walked her to the ladder of the slide to repeat the process.

“We love that park,” the blonde said, and Rebecca was relieved she’d broken the silence. Apparently no one had ever expected to see Rafael in a pullover and messy hair, much less running through a park with a toddler over his head. For all Rollins knew, she’d seen them there and not even recognized him.

“Us too. It’s her favorite. Knows I’ll say no when it’s too cold, but papi’s a sucker.”

“She got her mother’s doe eyes when she wants something,” he said plainly, ordering another drink. Conversation moved to the case, and she leaned against the bar beside Rafael and watched them. He was content, and even though he was more serious with this group, she caught his gentle ribbing and could see his brow wasn’t as furrowed as it always was. When he’d shaved, he mentioned feeling older, but the way he carried himself now seemed so much younger and so much freer.

“Well, I’m going to whisk Rebecca off. Take advantage of date night. Good job Carisi. You’ve turned out to be a damned good attorney. Tell Liv I’m sorry we missed her.” He helped Rebecca into her coat before putting on his own, hand resting on her lower back as he guided her out.

“You do know you need to wait and tell her about Cat.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, looking at his phone. “She’s almost-”

“Rafa. You already leaving?” Rebecca knew this had to be Olivia, and she suddenly felt very nervous as she looked over to see the woman’s eyes on her.

“Liv,” he smiled softly. “I was worried we’d miss you.”

“This must be Rebecca.”

“I am. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much.”

“He didn’t tell me you two were back together.”

“There’s a lot to it,” he said softly, pulling out his phone. “I cut her off when I left. She tried to tell me, but I found out when I showed up before Christmas Eve. Becs let me come to mass. I never left.”

“Tried to tell you what.” Rafael’s face was focused as he found the album of pictures and videos of Catalina so Rebecca looked at Olivia.

“I was pregnant when he left. Catalina is two and a half. And since Christmas Eve? A total daddy’s girl.” Rafael handed her his phone proudly, having started at the beginning of the album at the picture of him holding Catalina on his hip before mass. Olivia swiped through the pictures, and Rebecca could see her processing much like Al had needed to do. At least Al had known about Catalina.

It didn’t help that she knew no one else tended to see him in jeans, laughing and running and sappy. That was the Rafael that had been reserved for her. They’d seen the snark, the seriousness, the impeccable suits. Hell, how easily he’d transitioned to fatherhood had shocked Rebecca and she’d seen him hiking in upstate New York and jumping into a river in his boxers after she’d dove in. It took almost an hour of goading as she floated in the water to get Rafael Barba to skinny dip, no matter how isolated they were.

“Wow. She looks just like you,” she said, her smile warm. “This is- a lot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to finish the case. And we hadn’t told her yet. She figured it out when she saw me shaved. Becs had been telling her about me. Had a picture she showed her. I shaved and she asked why Mr. Barba looks like dad, and we told her.”

“You do know this means we all have to go to the park soon?”

“Deal. Amanda gave Becs her number to have a playdate with Jessie and Billie.”

“Carisi can bring his niece. It’ll be a party,” Rebecca teased. “Doesn’t Fin have a grandkid?”

“We have a sitter,” he said, sudden nerves taking over at the idea of bringing the squad and all of their children around. Mami had to meet Catalina first. They’d deal with that when it wasn’t date night. He filed it under For tomorrow. “So we’re going to take advantage of that. It’s good to see you. We’ll have dinner soon, okay?”

“Have a good night, Rafa. It’s nice to meet you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca waved as Olivia ducked into the bar, leaning into Rafael. He kissed the top of her head, arm wrapped around her. Something about his limited circle that remained in New York knowing relaxed him, even if he was nervous at the prospect of meeting all of them at a park. He had friends in Iowa, and the ones he talked to on the phone found out quickly. It was harder here because if something happened, he was afraid having Olivia know would make it worse. Now that she did know, however, he realized it may have been a fear he couldn’t run once he told her. Rafael Barba had been an idiot, and if it weren’t for the Householder case sending him away, Olivia was close to going to find Rebecca herself. He’d been far too mean after, and well aware it was his fuck up. But now, he felt nothing but pride to have shared the news, and he was becoming acutely aware he seemed to be crushing his desire to run much more easily than he’d crushed his ability to share all those years ago.

“What’s going on in there?” she asked as they walked, tapping his temple.

“I’m happy. People knowing feel more solid. I’m not going anywhere, but now I get to tell everybody about her whenever. Have people ask.”

“You get to be Rafael Barba, sappy family man?”

“Yeah,” he said, and the crookedness of his smile and softness of his eyes made her heart flutter. “Everything’s different for me now. And I’ve told people, so they know it’s different. You did enough to change me. Knowing there’s a little girl that calls me papi and wants to be around me? Nothing is ever going to be the same. You changed my world, but now there’s a part of me in her, and no matter what, that part of me is separate and autonomous, and that’s magnificent to know.”

“I love you,” she said plainly, arms wrapping around him as they stopped. There were no other words she could think of, and her eyes were tearing up as she looked up at him. It warmed her heart to see his were too.

“I love you too, Becs.” And with that, she was stretching up to kiss him slowly, hands cupping the back of his neck. He pulled her close, enjoying the time together where he didn’t need to worry about Catalina needing them or walking in and letting out a whine of gross. Parenthood’s only fall back he found was not being able to be affectionate with Rebecca the same way. He supposed it was better sometimes; he certainly had a tendency to try to distract her from whatever he didn’t want to talk about with a searing kiss before shedding clothes. But the part that he didn’t like losing was making out lazily on the couch, having sex without worrying they might get caught, and being affectionate without the risk of jealous little hands tugging at pants legs because Catalina didn’t like not having her parents’ attention. She was smiling up at him when they pulled apart, and when they were led to their booth, he slid into the same side as her, unwilling to give up the closeness.

“Someone didn’t go to sleep,” Al teased the next morning, handing Rafael Catalina’s bag once the little girl had run inside.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rafael said, but his smile gave him away easily. “Rebecca’s getting some rest, or she’d be saying hi.”

“Keep being good to her Rafael. You might just make me like you. You’re making her very happy.”

“Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

“It means I don’t hate you anymore.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x oc #rafael Barba x reader #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order #writing

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spicykoreantatertots · 5 years ago

Text

With love, from J

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: G

Genres: College AU, Roommates to Lovers, Fluffy Fluffy Fluff

Summary: A beautiful bouquet of peonies are left on your doorstep, the only problem is, you don’t know who they’re from.

Warnings: none! this is just sweet fluff.

A/N: It’s finally here! This piece is a gift for Ashley aka: @taehyungforreal! I was honestly stunned when I found out that you were my Secret Admiree! I’ve been such a huge fan of your work for a while now and it’s such an honor to write for you. This is currently a very G rated, but I am toying with the idea of doing a smutty one shot down the line. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to everyone who helped me with this fic and encouraged me along the way: @ho-baebae @lovely-literati.

~~~~~~~

Trudging up the stairs to your third floor apartment, you can't help but wonder if the $50 a month discount is worth all the extra effort. Especially when your backpack is full of Thicc text books. But at least tonight you don't have to leave again. It's Roomie Night.

Roomie Night is a tradition started way back when you and Jungkook first started living together. The two of you had been in the same group of friends since Freshman year, but weren't very close. But when it was time to leave the dorm, and both of you needed a place, you ended up together. In an effort to get to know him better, you proposed Roomie Night. Once a week the two of you set aside time to eat dinner and hang out with each other.

The idea worked, because now Jungkook is one of your closest, if not best friend. Tonight, Jungkook is bringing home takeout from the Chinese place you love and you've rented some action thriller that he's been dying to see. Should be a really fun night if you can make it up these stairs.

When you do reach the landing, you spot something outside your front door. Peonies? A whole bouquet of them in a beautiful purple vase. They must be from your mom, it is almost Valentine's day after all.

You unlock the door and pick up the vase to bring inside. Peonies have been your favorite flower since you were a child. You had spent many afternoons with your Grandmother as she tended to her flower garden. She often told you what each flower represented and Peonies represent good fortune and a happy marriage. Two things your Grandmother had, and two things you desperately wanted.

After losing the heavy backpack, you pull the card out of the Peonies. It simply says, "With love, from J.”

"From J?" you muse out loud to yourself. Could it be... Could they be from Jungkook? You had never seriously entertained the idea of dating your roommate. Not because he isn't gorgeous. He is. Not because he isn't sweet and caring. He is. Not because he doesn't have a great sense of humor. He does. Wait a second, so why haven't you considered him an option??

But wait, these just say, "from J." Maybe it isn't Jungkook. You don't call him J, nobody does. So maybe it's from someone else? You snap a picture and send it to another friend of yours, Seokjin.

You: any idea who these could be from??

Seokjin: are they from Jungkook?? how many times do i have to tell you to get on the Jungkook train Y/N???

Seokjin: theoretically they could be from Jimin, but i'm pretty sure he's got a thing for Taehyung...

Seokjin: wait what's that guy you were flirting with at work??

You: Jackson!! Omg... maybe it was him... he did ask if i had a valentine this year, but i thought he was just making small talk

Seokjin: only one way to find out

You: wait until someone comes forward so i don't have to awkwardly put myself out there :|

Seokjin: right...

~~~~~~~

Jungkook drags himself up the stairs, legs weak from his intense workout. His long dark hair is damp with sweat. Chinese food in hand, he walks through the door to see you texting away at the kitchen counter.

"Hey how's it going?" The soft smile blush on your face confuses him slightly, he wonders who you're texting.

"Oh it's going." Jungkook walks toward you, setting your dinner down on the counter. "Are you going to shower before we eat, I can smell you over the take out." You laugh and he knows you're kidding. He loves the sound of your laugh...

"I'll shower, you can go ahead and eat, I won't be long." Jungkook goes to the bathroom to start the shower before he walks off toward his bedroom down the hall. He's still thinking about who you're texting, who is making you smile like that. It should be him.

As he picks out some clean clothes he can't help but think about how badly he wants to be with you, but he can't bring himself to cross the boundary from friends and roommates to something more.

In the bathroom, the steam is rising from the shower and Jungkook is so ready to get into the hot shower. He opens the cabinet for a towel, but doesn't find any.

"Y/N! Where are all the towels?" Jungkook calls from the bathroom.

"In a basket in my room, I was gonna put them up later!" You call back to him, mouth full of noodles.

Jungkook slips out of the bathroom and moves quickly to your bedroom to grab a towel. He finds the full basket near your desk where he also notices a large bouquet of pink flowers. His heart stops for a second when he reads the card placed next to them.

From J? Who got you those flowers? Valentine's Day is around the corner and Jungkook realizes he might be too late. He may have already missed his chance to be with you.

~~~~~~~

Empty take out cartons litter the coffee table, the credits from the movie are rolling, but you can't move. You're afraid to move even an inch because Jungkook's head is in your lap. He fell asleep before the first explosion even happened. At first he was just resting his head on your shoulder, but in his sleepy state he eventually made it down to your lap.

You gently brush his hair out of his face and you can admire his beauty. God is he beautiful. The way his nose curves, the sharp edge of his jaw line, each of his cute little moles - all handcrafted by God himself.

Your fingers are still absentmindedly stroking through his locks. The motion of it slowly wakes him.

"Hello sleepy head." You smiled down at him. He quickly sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

"So how did it end?" He looks back at you. God how did things change so quickly? Because all you want to do right now is kiss him on his perfect mouth. "The movie? Did they vanquish the evil doers?"

"Oh! Yeah yeah, they all exploded and the hero got back in time for his wedding."

"So all was well." He hums to himself. He'll probably watch the movie again later. He can never stay awake when he eats that much food. "So listen... next week Roomie Night is on Valentine's Day..."

Your stomach twists. Is this it, is he about to ask you out? He looks around the room before looking back at you. All you can do is hope that the blush on your face isn't too obvious in the dim lighting.

"Are you planning to..." He starts, shakes his head, tries again. "Are you gonna have a Valentine this year?" Why would he ask that now if he already bought you flowers, they must not be from him.

~~~~~~~

He reads your face carefully for a reaction. He's put it all on the line, he's got to know who the flowers are from. He waits for you to answer, but the longer you wait the more he realizes you must be trying to find a way to break the news to him.

You must be seeing someone.

"I'm not... expecting anything. If that's what you mean." What do you mean by that? Where did the flowers come from? God he should just ask you. But he can't bring himself to do it.

"Okay, so Roomie Night is on just like always?" He grins, starting to clean up the mess from dinner.

"Just like always." You return his smile, but it doesn't quite meet your eyes. Jungkook is still so unsure about what's going on inside that beautiful mind of yours.

~~~~~~~

Both you and Jungkook have full time course loads and part time jobs, so you don't see each other everyday. You don't really get to see him again until four days after Roomie Night. The two of you are going to be meeting up with your friends for dinner and game night at Namjoon's apartment.

You're waiting, sitting on the couch while Jungkook is getting ready. You're scrolling through your twitter feed when you hear the door open.

Jungkook walks out, shirtless. H-has he always had abs like that? He's towel drying his hair as he walks down the hall to his bedroom. The lean muscles on his back lead down to his slim waist. You hope he didn't notice you staring.

~~~~~~~

Once he's fully dressed and his hair is mostly dry, Jungkook joins you in the living room. He's wearing black jeans and his favorite Nirvana shirt covered by his denim jacket.

"It's pretty nice out for February, wanna just walk?" Jungkook shows you the temperature from his weather app, clear skies and it's almost 60 degrees.

"Sounds good. Got the keys." You respond, getting up from the couch. He watches you grab your coat and open the door, turning the lock from the inside.

"Let's go!"

The walk to Namjoon's apartment flies by. It's about five blocks away, but the time he spends with you always seems to move too quickly. He could honestly listen to you complain about customers from work all day long. And you listen intently as he talks about the latest album he's listening to. The way you giggle when he tells a dumb joke makes his heart soar.

Your cheeks are rosy from the cool wintery breeze that blows the hair out of your face. Jungkook is pretty sure God is playing a cruel joke on him, or maybe it's just a sign. A sign that you are meant to be his.

~~~~~~~

When you arrive at Namjoon's place, Seokjin is in the kitchen finishing up dinner with the help of Jimin. Taehyung is setting the table and Namjoon is in the living area looking through his extensive collection of board games.

Before too long, the six of you are around the dinner table, Jungkook by your side as always. His energy does feel a little bit different tonight though. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but it does feel like he's looking over at you a lot. And he's laughing at everything you say. And maybe he's sitting a little closer to you than he has to.

After dinner, you help Seokjin wash the dishes while the other boys set up Clue. A classic.

"Okay listen he's totally into you. The flowers have to be from him." Seokjin whispers so that no one can hear him over the sound of the faucet.

"Jin! You can't just say things like that!" You whisper back at him.

"I'm not just saying it! God Y/N! How did you not see the way he was looking at you during dinner?" You look over your shoulder and see Jungkook play fighting with Taehyung. He's smiling, he's happy, and suddenly he's looking back at you.

~~~~~~~

Were you just looking at him? Jungkook lets Taehyung out of his grasp and stares back at you until you turn back to the sink. Taehyung punches Jungkook's arm, regaining his attention.

"What was that all about?" Taehyung glances over at you.

"Nothing." Jungkook tries to shut down his friend's snooping. "I don't know what you're talking about.

"Okay so we're just gonna pretend like you weren't in your own little Y/N-loving world during dinner then?"

"He's right." Jimin chimes in from his seat at the table and that's when Jungkook notices Namjoon is listening too. "You two would be great together, you should just go for it." Jimin continues. Jungkook looks to Namjoon for his thoughts.

"Based on both of your body language, I think there might be something there." Namjoon states matter-of-factly. Jungkook gives one last longing look in your direction before he put Taehyung back in a chokehold.

~~~~~~~

"Alright the game is Clue and to make it a little more interesting we are going to be playing in teams. Me and Jimin, Taehyung and Jin, and Jungkook and Y/N." You look over at Namjoon, but he is busying himself with shuffling the cards.

Throughout the rest of the night, Jin kicks you under the table anytime Jungkook does something that could be even slightly flirtatious. Every laugh, every smile, every secretive whisper in your ear that sends a chill down your spine.

When the two of you decide it's time to Make the Accusation, Jungkook stands dramatically. He looks around the room before proclaiming that it was, in fact, Professor Plum with the Dagger in the Library.

After checking the envelope and announcing your team's victory, you jump up and wrap your arms around Jungkook. He doesn't hesitate to return the hug and judging by the smug look on Seokjin's face, the hug lasted a little too long.

"Good game everyone!" You shout, suddenly embarrassed. "I guess it's getting kind of late, we should get going since we walked." You're now speaking to just Jungkook and he nods in response.

~~~~~~~

The walk back to your shared apartment is a little bit more awkward than Jungkook would have hoped. The temperature has dropped significantly and he can hear your teeth chattering. But your hands are hanging by your side rather than in your pockets. Maybe you want him to grab your hand.

"Do you have work tomorrow night?" He asks you, thinking maybe he'll finally have the courage to ask you out.

"Nope I'm free!" You turn and look up at him slightly, your pace slowing down. Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"Do you maybe wanna..." He starts, but he second guesses himself. Why would a girl like you wanna go out with him when you've clearly already got an admirer. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Maybe we could study together then?"

"Yeah sure sounds great."

~~~~~~~

You thought that was it, you thought he was going to ask you out, especially after the fun night the two of you had with your friends. The chill of the night is starting to really set in as the two of you approach your apartment. Trying your best to not sound out of breath, you wait for Jungkook to unlock the door.

"What are you waiting for?" Jungkook motions toward the door.

"Well you're the one with the keys." You retort, ready to be inside.

"No! When we left you said you had the keys." You look up at him, confused.

"No... I was asking if you got the keys! So neither of us have keys?" You groan, slapping the palm of your hand against your face. "It's COLD!"

~~~~~~~

Jungkook calls the emergency maintenance line for the apartment complex to have them bring a spare key.

"It'll be about fifteen minutes." He puts his phone back in his pocket. He can see you shivering in the dim lighting of the walkway. After some silence he adds, "I'm sorry."

"It's not totally your fault... I guess." You exhale with a chuckle, music to his ears. You close the distance between the two of you and Jungkook almost gasps when you nuzzle your nose in his jacket.

"It's so cold." Your voice is muffled and he almost can't make out what you said. He wraps his arms around you to try and help warm you up. And this feels so right. You belong in his arms, he's sure of it.

The two of you stand like this for a few minutes, really he wasn't counting, but he does feel you pull away after a while. Before he can be too disappointed, he hears people climbing up the stairs. Your neighbors, Yoongi and Hoseok are coming home from what looks like a shopping trip.

~~~~~~~

"Hey guys." You stuttered behind your chattering teeth. You're feeling the cold all over again after you peeled yourself off of Jungkook.

"What's up?" Yoongi asks, probably wondering what the two of you are doing standing outside in the cold. "Locked out?"

Both you and Jungkook nod in response. Hoseok offers to let the two of you in while you wait for the maintenance man, but you turn him down, he should be here any minute now. Before going into the apartment, Hoseok turns back.

"Have either of you seen a bouquet of Peonies anywhere?" Your stomach turns upside down. "I ordered some for Yoongi, they're his favorite. They were supposedly delivered, but they weren't here when we got home."

"Oh yeah, they were delivered to our door by mistake." You've never been so mortified, especially considering Jungkook is here watching this unfold. "They're my favorite flowers too, so I thought they must be from..." You pause, not wanting to keep that train of thought going.

"See Yoongi! I told you I ordered you flowers!" Hoseok calls into the apartment. Yoongi pokes his head back out.

"I'll bring them over when we get in. Oh but, the card said that they were "from J?" Hoseok blushes in response to your question.

"That's one of my nicknames for him..." Yoongi winks at you before they both retreat to the warmth of their apartment.

~~~~~~~

"So who did you think the flowers were from?" Jungkook teased. He was beyond relieved to know that the flowers weren't actually for you. Relieved that maybe he still had a chance with you. You roll your eyes at him, but Jungkook notices some sadness in them.

Before he gets the chance to say anything else, the maintenance worker comes to let the two of you in. Jungkook watches as you head straight to your room. He lingers in the kitchen, waiting for you to come out with the peonies.

“So are peonies really your favorite?” Jungkook asks.

“Not another word Jeon.” You announce as you leave the apartment with the bouquet. The flowers are just beginning to wilt, hopefully Yoongi will still like them. In the silence of the apartment, Jungkook decides it’s time you get some peonies that are actually meant for you.

~~~~~~~

When you come home from class the next day, your ascent to your apartment brings back all the embarrassment from the night before. At least this time you have your keys.

You are surprised to see that Jungkook beat you home, he’s rummaging around in the pantry for something to eat. Usually he stays late to work out at the rec center after class. Jungkook stops when he hears you enter.

“Hi.” He says shortly, wearing a big contagious grin.

“Hi?” You repeat back to him, hanging up your coat and bag near the door.

“Wait here.” Jungkook saunters off down the hall.

“Okay?” You reply, slightly confused. What is he up to?

From his bedroom, Jungkook emerges with a large bouquet of pale pink peonies. You cover your face with your hands and laugh to yourself. There is no way he went out and bought peonies for you.

“These are for you.” You uncover your eyes and look up at Jungkook’s radiant smile one more time before looking at the flowers. The petals look so soft and you reach out to touch them. Then you notice a card sticking out. The card says, “With love, from J(ungkook).”

“They’re beautiful.” You try to speak through your laughter. Feeling emboldened by his gesture, you tilt your head up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Listen... I was thinking. Maybe we should cancel Roomie Night.” Jungkook is blushing, his hand resting back behind his head. “We could call it Date Night instead?”

“Date night?” You smile. “I like the sound of that.”

~~~~~~~

Happy Bouquet Day sweetie! Sorry I posted a bit late in the day, but I hope you enjoyed it! @taehyungforreal

#magicshopnet #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #msnbqd2020 #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook fan fic #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fan fic #jungkook fan fiction #bts fan fiction #reader x jungkook #peonies

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matildashoney · 4 years ago

Text

Loving You’s the Antidote: Epilogue

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @cock-a-doodely-doo, @ihearthemcallingforyou, @goldenfeelin, @detroitkiwis, @wherearethewatermelons

talk to me about it! feedback is greatly appreciated!

author’s note: to begin, there are no words to describe what a horrible time this is in the world, right now. obviously, reading is one the last priority for everyone, but i want to provide a space away from negativity if you want one. take care of yourself. here is a page of links for you to sign petitions, learn, and donate. i encourage everyone to educate themselves. thank you for reading. i love you. i’m here for you. i see you.

there is a thank you note at the end of the chapter. thank you for reading.

February 2026

Harry swears that traffic only gets worse the longer they live in London, the older their children get, the faster he wants to get home to his wife and family. His lips pursed in a tight line, frustrated and angry that his daughters are at home waiting on him for their bedtime routine. His want for stability was the reason for going to their lawyer’s office, today. He needed to get the paperwork for Amelie to sign to take over the deed to her grandfather’s house in Neuilly-sur-Seine, to finalise their commitment to making the move to France and settling down. Harry would still have worldwide tours for the fourth and fifth and sixth albums and Amelie would still have her global exhibitions. Having children changed something, though, and Harry and Amelie wanted their children to grow up as normal as they could. Neuilly-sur-Seine was their best chance for that, and it was a chance they were willing to take, especially with how much Amelie loves it there.

His lungs heave a breath when the light turns and his car is slowly inching down their street, the lights that their daughter insisted stay until after Valentine’s Day hanging along their roof trimming and lighting their drive. His heart is always at home with his family, and the greatest feeling in the world is when his legs are met with tiny arms and his shirt is tugged with chubby fingers. Harry shifts the gear as the tires roll into the garage, the engine turning and his hands grabbing all the paperwork as the door slowly closes, the chill from the wind hitting his cheeks.

“Papa!”

His legs are met with tiny hands and a cheek pressed into his thigh, his hands setting all the paperwork on the table near the door and reaching down slightly to lift his daughter into his arms. His cheek meets a sloppy kiss, the dimples in her cheeks on mimicking the features on his face. His heart is so warm, so full of love. “Hi, m’little butterfly,” Harry whispers, kissing her temple and squeezing her tight into his chest. “Did you have a good day?”

“Very good day with Mama,” Hensley assures with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her cheek on his shoulders. “Missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Harry smiles, kissing her hairline sweetly and petting the dog that trots alongside his thigh, wagging his tail excitedly at his arrival home. “Hi, Moose.”

Hensley’s ears perk like Harry’s to the distant wails coming from the kitchen, a melancholy in her voice that her father can only identify with the empathy that she’s inherited from her mother. “Stevie’s been cryin’ fo’ you.”

“Has Mama gotten her to calm down?”

“Not yet,” Hensley sulks, upset by her younger sister’s sadness. Her eyes flutter shut as Harry brushes the tiny curls away from her forehead, her hazel eyes hueing a golden brown under the dimming sun. Her appearance was beginning to resemble her mother’s much more than his, and there wasn’t any part of him that was bitter about having a replica of the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on.

And both are his to love.

“Alright, little bug,” Harry sighs, puckering his lips and peppering kisses along her chubby cheeks. “Bisous.”

Her eyes widen with his statement, shocked at the lack of politeness when her mother and father are always stressing the importance of having manners. “Have t’ say ‘si vous plait’, Papa. ‘s not polite.”

“Je suis désolé,” Harry hurries, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Only their daughter would be so bold. Only with Amelie’s personality. “Bisous, s'il vous plait.”

“Better,” Hensley nods, “More polite.” Her tiny hands grab Harry’s cheeks and press a kiss to his lips, “Muah.”

Harry sets Hensley on the ground, squeezing her in a hug before tickling her tummy and nodding for her to play as she was earlier. His eyes set on their crying child, her bottom lip jutting out and her eyelashes coated with tears, the tiny curls clinging to hair. Stevie’s arms are wrapped around Amelie’s neck, clinging to her as she bounces her slightly and quietly hums, her eyes flickering back and forth between the meal on the stove and the baby in her arms.

“Hi, Mama,” Harry smiles, his heart warm at the sigh that leaves his wife’s lips and the smile that follows. Her eyes squeeze shut as their daughter quiets, Harry kissing her forehead and taking her into his arms. “Hi, m’little ladybug. Are you having a hard day? Come hang with Papa and give Mama a break.” His knees bounce as his hands gently rub over her spine, her breathing evening out and her tears drying. “You’re okay,” he soothes, kissing her temples and rocking her gently. “Are you okay?”

“Hard day,” Amelie sighs, heaving out a shaky breath and setting the washcloth on the marble counter. Her chest shakes with her breathing, trying to steady her shaking, her eyes welling with tears as her hand cups the underside of her belly and leaning against the cabinets.

His heart is heavy, walking towards her and welcoming her into his arms, his lips touching her hair as he soaks in the feeling of her arms around him. “Know it is.”

“Glad you’re home. Think she could feel the energy around us, you know? Like what would happen when Mama was writing a book and I would get anxious because I could feel it,” she whispers, forcing a smile as their daughter turns her head and smiles sleepily at her. “All I want to do is to take it away from her.”

“Good thing we’re figuring it out for her, right? That’s what we do,” Harry smiles, kissing her lips sweetly and having his mouth linger on hers, the sensation of their lips touching one that he misses on his days out and about. He is well aware of what she needs to hear, and it breaks his heart that she doesn’t necessarily believe him. “You’re a great Mama, Ames.”

“Think so?”

“Mama, you’re the best mama in the whole world,” Hensley squeaks, wrapping her arms around Amelie’s waist and squeezing tightly, cheek pressed against her mother’s tummy. “You too, Papa.”

“Why thank you,” Harry smiles, his lips tugging into a grin as Amelie grabs his cheeks and bringing him into a kiss, releasing her grip on his waist and walking towards the stove and finishing up their meal for when their daughters are tucked away in bed. “Let’s go have a bath, H. What do y’a say? Bath time and a story for bed.”

“Can we listen to Baby before bed? Haven’t heard Baby in a while,” Hensley pouts, raising her arms and giggling when Harry lifts her onto his spare hip, her younger sister nearly falling asleep on his shoulder.

“Think we can do that.” Harry grins, kissing her temple and beginning to walk towards the stairs, his arms supporting their bodies as they walk into the bathroom and begin clambering into the bathtub, filled with bubbles and toys and warm water.

Harry’s favourite time of the day is the night. His quality time with his daughters to soak in the cuddles and the kisses and the babbled nonsense that he adores. Hensley always asks about his day and insists on singing a song. Stevie splashes the water and makes Harry kiss the rubber ducks. His moments with his girls that are solely his, that all of his love and attention could be given and devoted. His heart yearns to have these moments forever, that his daughters never grow up and always want to be this way.

Harry’s hands gently cover Stevie’s eyes as he rinses the shampoo from her tiny curls, the lavender aroma lingering in the air as the bubbles begin to fade and Hensley’s hands reach for a mug to rinse the soap from her hair. His hands scoop the toddler into her kitty printed towel, laying her gently behind him and sorting her nappy and warm pyjamas before settling her in his lap, his hands taking the mug from the five-year-old and rinsing over her chocolate curls. Her resemblance to Amelie was growing more and more, especially in her attitude, and there was a big part of him that savoured the way her personality and appearance reminded him so deeply of his love.

“Daddy?”

“Hm,” Harry hums, ignoring the way that slowly but surely his name has begun to disappear from her vocabulary with being in school. His heart yearned for Papa, but Daddy would have to suffice. “Close your eyes, butterfly.”

Hensley’s eyes squeeze shut, the water running over her face and Harry’s thumbs wiping her eyes for her to stare at him. “Daddy, how many songs do you write for Mama?”

“Mama would say I write too many,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head and opening the drain on the bathtub, opening her towel and wrapping her tightly in it, kissing her temple and gently drying her hair. “Like, I wrote Adore You and Sunflower for Mama.”

Harry gathers their youngest in his arms, rocking her and gently cooing her to sleep, his elbow flicking the bathroom light and walking into the nursery, nodding towards the sound machine for Hensley to turn on and the lights to dim for the baby to calm. His body settles in the rocking chair, one leg open for her to sit on and join in their snuggle, his hands gently rubbing their backs soothingly.

“Daddy, will you write a song for me?” she wonders quietly, laying her cheek on her father’s chest as her younger sister falls asleep in his arms. “Like you do for Mama and Big Sister.”

“Hensley, I’ll write a million songs for you,” Harry whispers, kissing her forehead and squeezing her tighter into his chest. “A million and one, actually.”

“That’s so many.”

“That’s how much I love you.”

Hensley’s face turns to the sound coming from the nursery door, her mother’s voice recognisable from a thousand miles away. Harry gently sets her on the floor, giving Hensley a moment to say goodnight, kissing their youngest daughter’s cheeks and laying her in her crib, whispering his love to her and lifting Hensley in his arms to walk into her bedroom while Amelie says goodnight to their baby. His hand opens her bedroom door quietly, reaching for her pyjamas and her hairbrush and having her get ready for bed before their story and quality time.

Hensley’s smile widens as her mother walks inside, their puppy – although he is far from a puppy’s size – following closely behind and settling at the edge of her bed, as always. Her hands reach out for her mother, wanting to be as physically close to Daddy and Mama, as always, Harry settling her in between their bodies as Amelie cosies into the duvet. Amelie kisses Hensley’s hair, gently brushing her fingers through the curls that have grown to her shoulders and are messily strewn about from her bath. Harry leaves the bed for a moment, grabbing the doppler that was brought in and opening the gel that goes over her tummy.

Harry’s heart stops beating when the doppler turns on, the sound much too loud for their ears and his breath held in his lungs until the heartbeat sounds through the speakers, his thumb wiping under his love’s eye with a smile and a kiss to her cheek as the sound soothes their anxiety for the day. His anxiety over this day, this week, this moment doesn’t fade away, despite having two pregnancies and children since their first. Harry simply swallows it down until they are alone in their bedroom, holding each other and crying and missing their first baby that was gone too soon.

“Holy moly, Mama!” Hensley whispers, laying her hands on her belly and trying to feel for the baby that is much too tiny to significantly push against her tummy yet. “That’s Baby’s heart? They’re okay?”

“Mhm,” Amelie smiles, kissing her temple and blinking away the tears welling in her eyes. “Baby says, ‘hello’ to you and Stevie and Papa.”

“Hi, Baby,” Hensley whispers, pressing her mouth against her stretched skin and kissing her belly button. “Je t'aime so much.”

Amelie grins, her heart so swollen in her chest that she swears her ribs are going to break. Her lips feather kisses along Hensley’s cheeks, soaking in her giggles and the sweet hugs that are wrapping around her shoulders as Harry gently wipes the jelly from her belly and brings her sweatshirt back.

Hensley clambers to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around Moose and laying her head on him, his tongue swiping over his snout and having her cuddle him. Her cheek presses against his sweetly as she whispers, “Goodnight Moose.” Harry’s hands hold her waist as she steps onto the chest at the end of her bed to walk to her string of photographs hanging on her wall, the rainbow painted through the clouds and the flowers adorning the moulding. Her hands touch the two photographs closest to her height, “Goodnight, Big Sister. Goodnight, Pepe.” Harry and Amelie are silent as she stares at the sonogram quietly, the photograph of her great-grandfather a copy of the one in Amelie’s photo album that Harry made for her years ago. Hensley turns around and walks towards the bed, waiting for Harry to lift her onto the mattress and snuggle in with her. “Goodnight, Mama and Baby,” she grins, kissing her mother’s belly and puckering her lips for a kiss, giggling when kisses are peppered across her cheeks. “Goodnight, Papa.”

“Love you to Jupiter and Pluto and,” Harry says quietly, his hands working to tuck their daughter in as his wife kisses her hair.

“The Moon, and to the stars, and all the way back,” Hensley giggles, soaking in all the kisses and cuddles and squeezes that she’s given every night.

“To wherever you are,” Amelie smiles, kissing her cheek sweetly, her sleeves pulled over her hands as Harry nods towards the door, his hand splayed over the small of her back and leading her into the hallway and the kitchen. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Mama. Goodnight, Papa.”

Harry quietly shuts her bedroom door, their voices silent as they walk into the kitchen together and the aroma of their dinner wafts through their senses. Harry is suddenly aware that he hasn’t eaten since lunch and his stomach growls much too loud for the silence that’s settled in their home at bedtime. Amelie laughs, spooning their pasta into bowls and leaving her husband to set the table, the bottles and dummies and bibs scattered across the countertop really displaying who they are ten years later.

“Never gets easier when Hensley does that,” Harry says, breaking their silence and setting their glasses of water on the freshly cleaned table.

“Know it doesn’t,” Amelie agrees, carefully carrying their bowls to the table and taking a seat, her hand rubbing over her tummy mindlessly as her lips blow cool air on the pasta to eat. “Makes me cry in the mornings, usually.”

“Don’t really want to explain what happened to H, you know? Don’t want her to feel guilty that she’s here and Grace isn’t. Know that we have to, eventually, but that’s a really hard conversation to have.”

“Have to do it together.” Amelie squeezes Harry’s hand, kissing his knuckles and lacing their fingers together on the table. “Like we do everything, baby.”

“Mon ange,” Harry whispers, leaning over the table and kissing her cheek, laughing when her face turns and meets his lips in a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

Harry and Amelie eat their dinner together in the quiet, only the hum of their playlist basking in the background of the kitchen, soaking in the moment together and alone solemnly. Harry and Amelie would never get over how much they love the clinginess and the teddy bear tea party conversations with their daughters, the routines and the stories and the playing. Having their daughter was the best moment of their lives, and every pregnancy since that is a miracle that they cherish and adore, and nothing would ever compare to how much they love being parents.

And yet, there is a significant part of their family that is always missing.

“Hearing the heartbeat make you feel better?” Harry says quietly, taking their bowls and setting the dishes in the sink, wiping his hands on the washcloth on the counter and returning to his seat, his arms outstretched for his wife to come into.

“Little bit, yeah,” Amelie sighs, standing and walking to Harry, straddling his waist and settling on his thighs, her fingertips brushing away the curls that have fallen into his face throughout the day. “Have to get through the week, that’s all.”

“I’m so proud to call you m’wife,” he whispers, his hands gently rubbing her thighs, his lips touching her jaw as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Amelie, you’re the strongest woman that I’ve ever known. I’m so in love with you.”

“Doubt that much about me being the strongest,” she breathes, kissing his cheek and taking a moment to stare at the green eyes that she’s loved for so very long, his dimple indenting his cheek with a smile.

“Husband said it, so it’s true,” Harry smirks, squeezing her thigh and smacking the side of her bum. “Husband of nearly six years, thank you very much.”

“That means we’ve been together for over ten years, Harry.”

Harry snickers, “Must be a pretty good lay if you keep me around for ten years.”

“Eh,” Amelie shrugs, her fingertips toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Got better over time.”

Harry’s eyes roll, his heart swelling in his chest as Amelie giggles and kisses his temple, squeezing her arms around his shoulders with a tight hug. “Have about a million more years to go with me, love. Many years with these three, too.” His hands splayed over her bump beneath the sweatshirt.

“Think you know what they are? Guessed right with the girls,” she wonders, reaching to tuck her sweatshirt beneath her breasts and stare at the way his hands are covering nearly her entire belly. Only sixteen weeks along, her belly is barely noticeable to the common eye, but Harry swears he can see a change every single day.

“Want this one to be a real surprise,” Harry says, kissing her cheek and smirking into her skin. “Until we find out next week.”

“God, you’re so annoying,” she groans, rolling her eyes and pushing his chest away, grumbling when his mouth begins pressing kisses along her jaw and cheeks. “Où sont les papiers que je dois signer?”

Harry’s hand squeezes Amelie’s knee, gesturing for her to stand and take his seat while he walks to get the paperwork from the counter. “Sur la table. Je vais les chercher.”

Her torso twists in her chair to continue speaking to him, “Are you sure about this, Harry? I mean, your whole family is here. Our family is here.”

He shakes his head, setting the file in front of her and taking the seat closest to her, “And your whole family is in California. Our family is in California,” Harry says, kissing her cheek and setting the pen near her fingers, “but you moved here with me.”

“That was for us.”

“And so is this,” Harry assures, kissing Amelie’s cheek comfortingly. “This is for our family.” His cheek lays against her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as she kisses his temple and scratches his scalp soothingly. “Think I want to be stuck missing hours upon hours of their lives because I’m stuck travelling? No. Of course not.” His heart is heavy at the thought of having to be away from his family longer than necessary. “Do I think they’ll have a better, more normal life in France than England or America? Yes. And that’s what we always wanted, anyways.”

Amelie’s hand grasps the pen, hovering over the lines where an x is marked for her to sign and the house would legally become theirs, and their family would begin making the transition to move. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“More sure than anything,” Harry says with a smile, a warmness overwhelming his emotions at the thought of having the opportunity to raise his children in an environment where they can be authentically themselves without having to worry about the glamour and flash that living in California or London brings.

“Hensley is going to love it.” Hensley loves the house in France. Harry and Amelie have only taken her a handful of times, especially when her grandfather became sick earlier last year, and Harry swears he’s never seen a child so in love with something. Hensley wanted to be in the garden, in the flowers, singing and dancing and soaking in all sunlight that encompassed them. “Mean, she already does.”

“Might be good to be out of the way for Stevie, too.” Harry’s heart hurts with how much anxiety their youngest has been having. Her anxiety was always the worst when they have to leave the comfort of their home and venture into the heart of the city, as there isn’t the understanding quite yet as to why so many voices are around theirs and why lights are flashing in their eyes. Harry does all in his power to protect his family. Maybe living in France in their calmer months would be best. “More under the radar.”

“And we have the houses in Malibu and London, still,” Amelie reasons, brushing a stray curl from his forehead and kissing his temple. “Can come up with a schedule on where we’ll take them according to wherever you are when you’re writing the album and be around for a few months depending on school.”

“All of it is going to work out,” Harry says, his voice feigning assurance and confidence. Amelie can read through his demeanour without having to ask a single question.

“Have to let Jupiter and Pluto do their thing,” she smiles, gently swinging her leg over his thighs and straddling his waist, her lips kissing the corner of his lips teasingly.

“Their thing.” His hands grip her hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin lightly and pecking a kiss to her cheek, his cheeks flushed as her tongue darts across her lips. “Trying to get me going, angel? Is that your plan?”

“Find it ironic that you’re tired from traffic and bath time and ’m the one growing a human,” Amelie teases, her lips dragging along his neck and kissing at the spot that makes him moan, his hips shifting uncomfortably under her thighs.

“All of us are facing our battles, honey,” Harry moans, his dimple dipping into his cheek with his smirk on his lips as his nose nudges her cheek slightly and his lips ghost across her ear. “Find it ironic that you want nothing to do with me until the second my eyes can barely stay open.”

“Can I not think my husband is sexy? Didn’t know that was a bad thing.”

“Definitely not,” Harry chuckles breathlessly, tucking his arms tighter around her waist and squeezing her into his chest.

“Love you,” Amelie whispers against his lips, the sensation of their kiss making her thighs tuck tighter around his waist and their bodies to shift slightly. Harry’s hands settle on the curve of her bum, the intimacy of the moment made private into something that could only be theirs, only in their world.

“Love you more.”

Harry and Amelie kiss lazily on the chair in their dining room, happily unaware of the snow outside and the chaos around their lives. All that they need is each other and their family and their love, and their next adventure would be alright.

After all, it’s all about how Jupiter and Pluto align, and all that.

/ / /

so, this is the end of loving you’s the antidote.

i don’t think i ever thought this day would come. i have had the idea for this story for nearly three years, and i have countless drafts to the story that seemingly never made it anywhere. then, in december, i went to @youcheekylilmonkey with an idea for a story. a story about a girl, struggling with her mental health and her art, and harry, struggling with the idea that you can’t fix everyone. a story about two people falling in love in a pretty unconventional way. a story about two people who want to grow together and support each other, no matter what. this story started with one idea and one line and one premise and turned into something so much more than that.

to those that read weekly and biweekly and on the days where i only posted once a month, thank you. thank you for your patience and your understanding. to those that read when the series was nearly done, binging it all in one night and finding yourself falling in love and becoming more invested than maybe i was, thank you for your love. to those that reblogged and liked and sent me messages, thank you for your validation and your love. to those that checked in every so often, thank you for thinking of me.to the readers that felt connected to our sweet amelie in more ways than one, i hope that you find comfort and support in her story. i hope that you know that there is someone out there - a friend, a partner, a relative, a stranger - that is going to support you and love you unconditionally, sometimes they just take a little bit longer to find. i hope that you felt seen, that her story showed you that you are never alone.

thank you to my sweet friends who talked about this story with me, whether it was from the very beginning or halfway through, i appreciate you all very much. you’ve helped me along the way, even if you didn’t know.

to harry styles and fine line for being inspirations to this piece.

and to harry and amelie for being the characters i wanted to write and read, you’ll stay with me always.

“i love you. i love you to jupiter and to pluto and to the moon and around the stars and all the way back to wherever you are.”

until the next one, i love you all that much. caitlin x

(p.s. feel free to imagine jack’s ending in whichever way you want. sometimes i think he got hit by a car. it’s all up to you.)

154 notes · View notes

morningfears · 5 years ago

Text

Youngblood

Rating: PG (a few swears, nothing big)

Summary: Someone requested this when Youngblood came out. I wrote it but never posted it. Essentially, listening to Youngblood for the first time as Ash’s girlfriend and giving him your opinion on it.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Ash, is it midnight yet?”

Ashton rolls his eyes playfully as he looks up from his phone and glances over at you. He laughs at the sight of you lying upside down on the couch, your head hanging over the edge and your headphones squishing your cheeks as they hang loosely around your neck. “No,” he hums as he tosses his phone onto the hotel bed and crosses the room to stand behind the couch. You feel his fingers drag along the exposed skin of your shin as he informs you, “Five more minutes.”

“Why can’t I listen now?” you pout as you lift your head just enough to catch sight of him. “I’ve been so patient, I haven’t asked to hear anything early this whole time! It’s killing me, Ashton. Do you want my death on your hands?”

“You’ve waited this long, doll,” he grins as he rounds the couch to take a seat beside you, “you can wait five more minutes. It won’t kill you.”

“But you don’t know that,” you whine as you shift yourself to rest your back against the arm of the couch and stretch your legs over Ashton’s lap, “it could very well send me into some sort of stress-related heart problem. Because my heart literally feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, I’m so excited.”

Ashton shakes his head at your dramatics as he rubs his fingers over the fuzzy pink socks covering your ankles. “Believe me, doll, I know the feeling. I’m just as excited for you to hear it as you are to hear it. I really want you to hear the stuff we’ve worked so hard on. But I want you to have the full experience.”

“And that full experience includes making me wait until it’s on Spotify, not letting me listen to the copy you have?”

“Exactly,” he nods with a grin before he tugs you closer to him. “Sorry, doll. Just two more minutes and then you can hear all of Youngblood.”

“Can I hear your solo? I know it’s only on the Target one and I honestly don’t think it’ll be on shelves until morning and I literally can’t wait that long so…” you trail off as you settle into his side.

“Yes, dear,” he laughs before he places a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll play Best Friend for you after you hear the rest of the album. Check your Spotify.”

You grab your phone from the coffee table and grin when you see that only one minute remains until midnight. Your grin grows when you see the notification pop up that new music is available for you. “Holy shit,” you cheer as you turn your headphones on and connect them to your phone, “I’m not listening out loud. I have to be surrounded by this perfection. You can go entertain yourself if you want, I’m gonna be here for a while.”

“I’m sure you’ll be plenty entertaining,” Ashton laughs as he allows you to shift away from him and return to the other end of the couch. “Just settle down, listen to the album. I really, really hope you like it.”

“I’m going to love it,” you assure him before you lean over to press a kiss to his lips, “just like I love you.”

“That was so fucking cheesy,” he teases as he pulls your headphones up and over your ears. “I love you, too. Now, quiet and listen to the album.”

After you settle into your spot on the couch, your feet returning to rest on Ashton’s lap, you hit play on the album. Not wanting to miss out on the full experience, you begin with Youngblood although you’ve heard it far too many times at this point. Ashton grins as he watches you bob your head and mouth the lyrics as he relaxes into the couch and turns his head to face you. He’s calm as you move on to Want You Back, another song you’ve heard multiple times at this point, but he can feel his heart begin to race just a bit as Lie To Me begins.

He tries not to stare at you, tries not to make you feel uncomfortable with his scrutiny, but he can’t help himself as he watches for any flicker of emotion to cross your face. Your opinion is one of the most important to him, he wants you to love the album as much as he does, and he’s excited for you to hear it. But he’s not sure how he can handle waiting for you to finish listening to it.

When you hit pause and nudge his thigh with your foot, Ashton blinks away the thoughts clouding his mind and raises an eyebrow at you. “Do I need tissues for this album?” you question, your eyes wide, “Because Lie to Me was fucking emo and I’m not ready for this. It was so nice, though. I loved it.”

A little bit of his anxiety disappears when you tell him that you love the track and he can read the sincerity in your eyes. “Maybe,” he laughs as he rubs the exposed skin of your shin, “but you can always come cry on my shoulder. I’ve got you, doll.”

“You say I’m the cheesy one,” you huff playfully with a roll of your eyes. “I’m good for right now. Valentine is up next and I know that one. I love it a lot, in case you were wondering. Remind me to tell Michael that I loved his voice in it.”

Ashton rolls his eyes with a laugh as he gestures for you to pull your headphones back up and over your ears. “We don’t have all night. You’re only on track four. Keep going.”

He laughs when you mutter a quiet, “Bossy,” under your breath but you do as your told and power through Valentine to reach Talk Fast.

“Fuck off,” you laugh when the song starts, “this is the 80s synth-pop jam I’ve always wanted. I fucking love this!” Ashton’s grin only grows as he watches you start dancing to the music sounding through your headphones. His heart is feeling lighter by the moment, the butterflies in the pit of his stomach are disappearing, and he’s wondering why he was ever nervous to have you listen to the album.

You’re one of the most genuinely supportive people in his life and he knows that, no matter what, you’re going to be there for him. This album is no different.

He almost wants to ask how you feel about Moving Along when he hears you mutter, “Yes, Cal. It is weird. Put on some fucking pants,” and nearly doubles over in laughter.

He figures that you won’t keep up the running commentary, he can see you getting lost in the album, so he settles on watching the emotions flicker across your face. You’ve given up trying to hide your reactions from him, you’ve decided to just ignore his scrutiny and enjoy the album, and he can feel his own grin growing as you grin at a tune or frown at a lyric.

An hour later, you’ve run the spectrum of emotions and Ashton can feel the anxiety returning as he watches you turn off your headphones, lock your phone, and pull your legs from his lap. He’s about to ask what you thought of the album, ask what you’re doing, but before he can breathe a word, you’re situating yourself on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms come up to wrap around your torso as his hands rub your back.

“You alright?” he questions with a laugh when you bury your face in the crook of his neck but say nothing.

“You guys broke me,” you huff against his skin, “Youngblood is fucking amazing and I hate all of you. I feel so fucking emo right now.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he laughs as he continues to rub your back, “I’m happy you love it, though.”

“I do,” you nod as you pull away to look at him, “I love it a lot and I’m so, so, so fucking proud of you guys. This album is so good and you guys have grown so much. You took your time and you did it right and I’m so happy for you guys. You’ve grown as people and as artists and I’m so proud to call you my boyfriend and the guys my friends. This album is brilliant and, ugh, I’m just so proud.”

Ashton smiles at the praise you continue to bestow on him and holds you tight against his chest. It means the world to him, knowing that you love it so much, and it makes him happy to have someone like you in his corner. “I love you,” he breathes as he pulls you closer to him to press a kiss to your lips. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I really want to make a joke and say crash and burn but I can’t. You’re so strong and so amazing that you’d be just fine but I’m really glad to be by your side. It’s a privilege and one that I don’t take lightly,” you assure him as you cup his cheeks and brush your thumbs over his heated skin. “I love you.”

Ashton knows that he’s lucky to have you in his life and he knows that, regardless of what anyone else thinks, your approval is what truly matters.

__________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I lowkey miss writing super simple, really easy concepts. This was so fun. I love super intricate plots and fun stories but, like, something about a simple one shot, man. Also, can you tell that Talk Fast was my favorite song on the album? It really is the 80s synth pop song I needed. I can’t wait for CALM. I’m finally getting to see them live after being a fan since, like, 2013/2014 and, um. I can’t wait. To whoever requested this, sorry it’s, like. Almost two years late. Yikes. Anyway. Enjoy!

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princegumbxll · 4 years ago

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jjba characters as metallica songs (part 1) Warning- LOTS OF SPOILERS

Risotto is first for obvious reasons

He also gets 2 songs for the same reason (and b/c I really like him)

Risotto Nero: Bleeding Me and Master of Puppets

Both of these seem like obvious choices but bear with me. So we have ‘Bleeding Me’ because of the (sometimes) high amounts of iron in blood, his stand controls that iron to make weapons, sharp weapons cut and make you bleed so on and so forth...This also has to do with the fight with Doppio/Epitaph where Ris turns his blood yellow. He’s probably bled a lot too: physically and emotionally. The bassline in the beginning of the song is mellow and slow, just like Risotto’s chill and stoic nature. In fact, the song stays at a slow tempo the whole time while still having metal guitar/vocals/drums/bass. Lyric: “Can’t stop to save my soul/I take the leash that’s leading me/I’m bleeding me, I can’t take it”

Risotto Nero is the capo for La Squadra Esecuzioni; some argue that he was a better capo than Bruno (I’m neutral on that).Point is, he was a nice leader to a bunch of assassins, whom he all cared about. He was a 6′5″, all black wearing knife man with red and black eyes. So it makes sense that he would be a “Master of Puppets”, he has so much domineering energy. The ‘puppets’ could be Diavolo, La Squadra, Passione, or you, if you’re into that. The version of the song from the album ‘S&M’ has a LOT more bark and bite to it, but the version from the album ‘Master of Puppets’ works too. The chorus is slightly better, it’s timeless. Lyric: “Master of Puppets, I’m pulling your strings/Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams/Blinded by me, you can’t see a thing/Just call my name ‘cause I’ll hear you scream”.

Prosciutto: Until it Sleeps

First off, The Grateful Dead aged people up until they died, which is essentially killing someone “until it sleeps”. The whole song emphasizes something becoming less of something else-- less pain, less dirt, less guilt, less time being “awake”. This is just like how your body temperature slowly but surely rises While he *does* kill people in cold blood, you could say that he felt some remorse leaving Pesci behind as he died- or began to “sleep”. The whole sound of the song (the version from the album Load) is slow, mellow, and quiet for the most part, which fits Prosciutto as an assassin as well as his stand’s ability. Lyric: “I’ll tear me open, make you gone/No more can you hurt anyone/And the fear still shakes me/So hold me until it sleeps”

Hayato Kawajiri: The House That Jack Built

Oh my sweet child. I felt for him the most during the Bites the Dust part and when Kira became the Kawajiri family homewrecker. Seriously though, Kira ruins his life over and over again to the point where he tries to k--l himself just to stop everyone from dying. As an INTP, he was observant to, and tortured by what was going on instead of just being a normal child. The “house”, in this case, can very much be seen as Kosaku/Kira’s house and Hayato being trapped in it (you could say this makes Kira “Jack” too). The song itself is about a 3.5 out of 5, but several parts of it sounds very eerie and ominous, like that anxious pit in your stomach. The song’s tempo included. The song is set up so that it feels like the reader is progressing through the “house”, and disappears at the end. All of which is comparable to Kira and Hayato’s arc. Lyric: “Open my eyes, just to have them close again/Well on my way, but on my way to where I’ve been/It swallows me as it takes me in its fog/I twist away as I give this world a nod”

Johnny Joestar- Turn The Page

The initial reason I chose this song for him was because the guitar in this song has a country twang to it, which obviously goes along well with SBR. The vocals also sound a little bit country. I initially chose this song for Gyro, but examining the lyrics, it is more fit for Johnny. But if you want to associate this song with Gyro, feel free to. I really like him too! The song has an easygoing tempo (like 75 BPM), but is still aggressive, like the long, grueling journey of both his story and the race. Like, you can feel the pain. The song happens to progress the reader through what feels like this dusty American road to home, possibly? I specifically say American because the song starts with “On a long and lonesome highway/East of Omaha”. But they never get there, as at the end, the song has the lyrics “There I go” twice. The main chorus repeats at the end, beginning with the lyrics “Here I am/On the road again”. These both imply that the listener is stuck in a cycle of their journey, either physically still travelling or memories are stuck in their head. This is also emphasized sound-wise when the tempo slows down, and the ending beat where everything just drops down. Johnny will never forget the events of SBR, and you bet it haunts him at night for sad reasons I don’t wanna say. Yet he has to move on with his life (and does eventually), hence the name of the song to begin with, Turn the Page. He probably feels responsible for some of it, like when Funny Valentine offered him The Choice™. This comes out in the lyric “You pretend it doesn’t bother you/But you just want to explode”. Likewise, this applies to the foes he encountered during the race that really pushed his buttons. Dio included. Johnny was under a lot of pressure especially during those last couple chapters, and the moments when Gyro wasn’t by his side (like the Sandman fight). Whether or not he knows it, his every move is being watched; he is the star of the show, and we were all waiting patiently to see if he messes up or not. “There I am/Up on the stage/Here I go/Playin’ star again”. Stars are one of the things we associate with Johnny, and another one of those stars is BEING a star. Almost all of the song applies to him, but I feel these lyrics apply to Johnny the most. Lyric: But your thoughts will soon be wandering/The way they always do/When you're ridin' sixteen hours/And there's nothin' much to do/And you don't feel much like ridin'/You just wish the trip was through”

Jotaro Kujo- The Unforgiven

Regardless of parts 4,5, and 6, we all remember Jotaro as the asshole who shouts at women. When we first met him, we probably didn’t like him that much. Over time he DOES grow and change as a person, but he has a trail of his past mistakes behind him. DIO and his henchmen want him dead. His wife and daughter hate his guts. And Jotaro won’t tell you that it hurts him, because he’s not good at expressing his feelings properly. Nor will he tell you that he cares. At age 17, showing feelings shows weakness for a delinquent like him. At 28, he’ll slowly open up to people he cares about. At 42, it’s too late to show affection. This goes along with the lyrics: “They dedicate their lives/To running all of his/He tries to please them all/This bitter man he is”. I chose this song for him specifically because of how the title goes along with Jolyne’s hateful feelings toward him in Stone Ocean. He was “unforgiven” by her for most of that part, and it’s unsure whether or not she fully forgave him before the ending events of Stone Ocean. We’re not even sure if he fully forgives himself for everything that happened, especially in Part 3. This is conveyed in the chorus: “What I’ve felt/What I’ve known/Never shined through in what I’ve shown/Never free/Never me/So I dub thee Unforgiven”. We know that the events of SDC terrorize him, at times with visions and nightmares. Jotaro is an angry and hateful person, so it’s not surprising he would hate himself for these things. This is especially shown in the repetition of “never”. The song is 71 BPM, and personally, I think it sounds like someone trekking tiredly on a lonely path. Jotaro is definitely tired after everything, and probably tired in general. The guitar makes the song sound a bit like a ballad. In a way, it sounds like the song goes through his life as “The Unforgiven”. The song says “young boy” in the beginning, and ends with “old man”, too. Lyrics: He’s battled constantly/This fight he cannot win/A tired man they see no longer cares/The old man then prepares/To die regretfully/That old man there is me”

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #risotto nero #metallica #proscuitto jojo #prosciutto #hayato kawajiri #johnny joestar #jotaro kujo #vento aureo #steel ball run #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #jolyne kujo #vinegar doppio #la squadra #yoshikage kira #gyro zeppeli

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tefanfics · 4 years ago

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Changes

Chapter 48

I stared at myself long and hard in the mirror. I took in the details I saw- a pretty, soft pink dress dress and white flats, my makeup done in shades of pink and my hair curled. It seemed almost a little silly to be dressed to the nines since we were just staying home for Valentine’s Day. Taron was making us dinner and I had promise to bake a giant cookie for us and no presents to exchange.

It was Taron’s idea to get dressed up. And while I was excited to see him in a suit, I still had that inkling of doubt that I could never compare to the way he looked.

I grabbed my lip gloss from the counter and polished my lips before stepping out of the bathroom and heading toward the kitchen. I could hear music coming from the record player and Taron singing along as he moved about the kitchen. I lingered in the small hallway that led to the kitchen, leaning against the wall as I spotted Taron.

He moved from one side of the kitchen to the other. Cabinet doors opened followed by the refrigerator. He sang loud enough for me to hear from the hallway despite how loud the record player was. I could see his suit jacket was laying across the island and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up before his elbows, pressing into his forearms.

I couldn’t help but to smile. I loved the way his brow furrowed just a little as he concentrated. And the way it immediately went away as soon as he started to sing. I loved how he kept second guessing what he was cooking and would turn around be completely confident as he carried on.

Eventually Taron looked up and his eyes landed on the hallway. A grin grew on his lips as he spotted me. Blushing I stepped into the kitchen as Taron took my hand and spun me around.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled me to him and placed a swift kiss on my lips. He pointed to the wine glass on the table. “All yours. Sit and relax. Dinner should be ready in 20-ish.”

I took a seat at the island and reached for my wine glass. I sipped on it as I watched Taron. As he cooked, he’d interject a few small dance moves. He continued to sing.

I could smell different notes of the meal he was cooking. Garlic and olive oil were the strongest, followed by a hint of onion.

“Stay here, okay?” Taron said as he turned away from the stove. He left the kitchen but with the music playing, it was hard to tell where he disappeared to. So instead of trying to listen, I sat back, sipped on my wine and listened to the music.

When Taron came back into the room, he pressed a kiss to my cheek before returning to the stove. It was my turn to sing along. Hey Jude came from the vinyl on the opposite side of the room. It had always been one of my favorite Beatles songs.

I held the glass near my mouth but never bothered to take a drink as I sang softly along. I smiled a little as Taron looked over his shoulder at me. “What?” I asked.

“I just love your voice, that’s all,” Taron answered before checking the timer on his phone. “The dining table is set. You mind grabbing the glasses and the bottle of wine?”

I nodded and jumped up, I took the stems of the empty glasses in one hand and snatched the bottle from the fridge before venturing to the dining room we rarely used. I smiled as I noticed the decorations.

Red hearts were taped to the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Different kinds of red flowers were placed around the room. A card sat in front of what I assumed was my side of the table, resting against the vase.

I approached the table and put the wine glasses in their respective spots and grabbed the card, reading the envelope. Future Mrs. Egerton. I grinned, carefully running my finger under the lip of the envelope and pulling the card out. My eyes scanned over the text printed in the card before I looked to the other side of the inside and read Taron’s handwritten message.

To the funniest, smartest, delightfully talented, incredibly caring, beyond generous and the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, happy Valentine’s Day, my love. I’m counting down the days until I can call you my wife. I love you. Xx T

I smiled widely, my cheeks bright red as I read the message again and again. I looked up as I heard Taron coming through the door, a plate in in hand. He sat the plates down before looking at me.

“I see you read your card.”

“I did,” I answered. “Thank you.” I embraced Taron, kissing his cheek then his lips before releasing him. He pulled the chair out for me and I sat down, looking over the plate. There was collection of things- steak, a little pasta and a baked potato. “This looks wonderful.”

“Eat up, babe,” Taron answered as he sat down. We said cheers with our full wine glasses before digging in. We sat and talked for a long time, just enjoying the ambience that Taron had set and each other’s companies.

When we decided we had sat too long, I helped Taron take care of the dishes. We cleaned them and filled the dishwasher before I started to gather ingredients to make the cookie I had promised.

Taron took the vinyl off of the record player and put it away before putting another on. My head perked up as I recognized the album immediately. I grinned a little before looking back in the pantry.

“Rose, come here,” Taron called.

“Hang on. I’m getting the rest of the ingredients.”

“It can’t wait.”

I rolled my eyes as I came out of the pantry and spotted Taron in the middle of our living room. Of course there was a rose in his hand. I felt silly as I stood there grinning. He waved me over and I obliged, accepting the flower from him. And as if on cue, And I Love Her began to play.

I sat the flower down before returning to Taron. One of his hands found my lower back and the other took my hand. I put my free hand on his chest as we swayed back and forth to the song. I scooted closer, my hand now on his shoulder as my cheek pressed against his chest.

I could hear Taron singing along to our song, which only made me smile that much wider. I became emotional as we danced around our living room. Happy tears threatened to fall as he held me close. I pulled away enough to look up at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answered, shaking my head. “I’m just happy, is all. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Our lips met in a sweet and tender kiss as the song came to an end. Taron reluctantly pulled away. “Stay here,” he instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

I gave him a curious look as he disappeared from the room. I could hear him go up the stairs followed by a door opening. I went and turned down the volume before calling out to him. “T, we said no presents!”

“Just sit on the sofa, babe,” Taron called.

I sighed softly and sat down, smoothing the skirt of my dress out as Taron appeared. Half of his body was still hiding behind the wall as I looked at him. “What did you do?”

Taron flashed a big grin. “Shut your eyes and hold out your hands.” I gave a fake frown before doing what I was told. I could feel Taron close to me again. “Okay, wait just a second. You’ll know when to open them.”

“T, seriously what is this?”

Taron laughed and I could’ve sworn I heard something else but maybe my ears were playing tricks on me. “Okay, almost time.”

Before I could ask another question, I felt something in my hands. Something small and fuzzy, warm and with a heartbeat. My eyes popped open and laughed on the tiny black and white cat in my hands. “Taron…”

“I promised you a cat, didn’t I?”

“Babe, this is a kitten!” I laughed as I held the kitten closer to my body. I could feel its little heart beating against my fingertips but the purr was loud. “You sweet thing...,” I cooed. I looked up and noticed Taron holding his phone up. I blew the camera kiss before looking back at the kitten in my hands.

“It’s a boy by the way,” Taron said as he pocketed his phone and sat down beside me. He reached over and scratched under the kitten’s chin. “What’re we naming him?”

I looked the kitten over, petting him and kissing the top of his head as I leaned into Taron. “Well he looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo,” I mused. “Eggsy?”

Taron groaned and rolled his eyes while a fit of laughter escaped me.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” I managed through giggles. “Tux. We’ll call him Tux.”

“Tux it is,” Taron agreed, wrapping his arm around me. “Welcome to the family, Tux.”

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noahmanskar · 4 years ago

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The Best Albums of 2020 (and from the Before Times)

I read a lot of year-end music roundups, and several this year have come with a resonant caveat: It’s been harder to discover new music this year, both because of physical limitations (no shows, no record-store browsing, no chats with friends about your latest finds), and because the way we used music fundamentally changed. It certainly did for me. Rather than serving as the backdrop for a commute or a night out, it created moments of solace from cabin fever while doing dishes, or showering, or running semi-weekly errands. So I often turned to what was comfortable and familiar, songs that conjured memories and feelings to get me through the day. Even on the rare occasions of social listening, the groups I was with drifted into nostalgia — middle school dance tracks, mid-2000s emo, inherited dad rock, even songs from just a year or two ago, when everything was simpler, relatively speaking.

That’s not to say nothing new moved me. There was a handful of albums and songs that were crucial to getting through the doldrums. They soundtracked bike rides, long walks, longer drives and lots of small moments mentioned above. But I don’t think I can think about my favorite music of this year without thinking about the albums of the past that got me through it. Besides, one of the many lessons 2020 taught is that time is a bizarre illusion anyway. (This exercise also lets me write about some recent albums that I didn’t get to write about when they were actually released.

So here are the albums, past and present, that made 2020 bearable. I hope you found yours, too.

Tame Impala, “The Slow Rush”

Tame Impala’s fourth LP came out on Valentine’s Day. That afternoon, Claire and I had a lunch date to mark the occasion before we got on a plane to visit my parents. The night before, we had gone out to dinner with friends visiting from San Francisco and then to a bar, where we huddled next to strangers on a water bed. Roughly a month later, all of this would be unimaginable, and Kevin Parker’s lyrics to “One More Year” would be eerily prescient as we settled into this new normal:

But now I worry our horizon's been nothing new 'Cause I get this feeling and maybe you get it too We're on a rollercoaster stuck on its loop-de-loop 'Cause what we did one day on a whim Has slowly become all we do

The song is really about surrendering to time, and not worrying about it passing in spite of your ambivalence. The opening chants of Parker’s “Gregorian Robot Choir” make it easy to surrender. They carry you into a world where, as the cover art suggests, all that time you were worrying about has already passed, so you might as well dance. At the same time, the songs that follow, like “Borderline,” “Breathe Deeper” and “Lost In Yesterday” make it easy to remember what it was like to dance in a sweaty room with people you love, and to look forward to doing it again, after a little more time passes.

Fleet Foxes, “Shore”

There’s something comforting about the fact that Fleet Foxes released this record on the exact moment of the autumnal equinox. It’s a reminder that nature has its own rhythms that carry on regardless of what occurs in our human lives. They give us a measure of certainty in uncertain times. One of these rhythms — death — looms large in “Sunblind,” an ode to Robin Pecknold’s departed musical forebears: David Berman, Bill Withers, John Prine and others. This song exuding calm acceptance shifts into “Can I Believe You,” which wrestles frankly with doubt and fear.

These tracks contain profound contradictions, but sonically, they're both bright, hopeful and sure. That’s what made this album such a balm in the sixth month of this pandemic, a time of both growing darkness and hope for what might be on the other side. It reminds us that there’s power and beauty in feeling all these things at once.

Lil Uzi Vert, “Eternal Atake”

This one spent two years in label purgatory, but it finally arrived in March to prove Lil Uzi Vert can do it all. He’s at his most versatile here, spitting and crooning, boasting and balladeering. “You Better Move” is an early standout packed with playful nostalgia, including a beat that samples that classic PC pinball game and delightful jabs like these:

Yeah, step on competition, changin' my shoes Green shirt, bitch, I'm Steve, where is Blue? Every chain on, I pity a fool I'm an iPod, man, you more like a Zune Made her eat on my dick with a spoon, ew Versace drawers, bitch, you Fruit of the Loom

Then there are the melodic tracks like “Urgency,” which compel you to hum along even on the first listen. The excellent diversity made it worth the wait for this hourlong journey to another planet.

Sturgill Simpson, “Cuttin’ Grass Vol. 1: The Butcher Shoppe Sessions”

I haven’t spent much time with Sturgill Simpson outside of 2014′s “Metamodern Sounds in Country Music,” and I can’t say I’ve ever listened to another bluegrass album all the way through. But these new cuts of songs picked from Simpson’s catalog are wonderfully enticing. Simpson puts the talents of his backing band front and center, and their harmonies and rhythms illuminate his vivd songwriting in new ways. It was a great introduction to the genre for me.

Fiona Apple, “Fetch The Bolt Cutters”

I got here after the hype, after the perfect 10, after all the year-end number-ones. Fiona Apple lives up to all of it. Her compositions are complex and evocative, the lyrics tender and biting at once. Her artistry is unsparing. The chorus to the title track is already getting stuck in my head, and I can’t wait to spend more time with this one.

Bea Troxel, “The Way That It Feels” (2017)

Almost a decade has passed since I first saw Bea Troxel play. She was in an incredibly talented trio with two of my high school classmates: Maeve Thorne (who has an entrancing solo EP of her own), and Rita Pfeiffer (the violinist on this record). They ended up winning my school’s battle of the bands, and I got to interview them for the student newspaper. Shortly after our senior year, they recorded an album that still outshines most of today’s indie folk. So I jumped at the chance to all three of them again in Brooklyn.

Troxel’s performance in particular was a revelation. I won’t ever forget how I fell into a trance as she picked away at “Talc,” which exemplifies her gift for natural metaphor. I haven’t stopped playing her record since, and it’s been a constant comfort throughout this year. Her voice is one of a kind, her songwriting is rich, and the compositions flow together beautifully. I can’t wait for more; in the meantime, “The Way That It Feels” will be on repeat.

Travis Scott, “Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight” (2016)

There’s been much ado about the brilliance of “Astroworld,” Travis Scott’s magnum opus, but I have a soft spot for his sophomore LP, where he reached the peak of the spare and heavy sound that started to take shape on “Owl Pharaoh.” There are plenty of sonic layers here, and the ordering of the tracks is a craft in itself — a series of peaks and valleys that glides from the haze of “beibs in the trap” to the climax of “goosebumps” and then into the cool waters of “pick up the phone.” It feels like Scott is guiding you to and from these destinations. The journey is, as The Weeknd might put it, “wonderful.”

Harmonium, “Harmonium” (1974)

One of my pandemic binges was “Letterkenny,” the sharp Ontario-set sitcom with top-notch banter and a great soundtrack full of indie hits and Canadian deep cuts. The fight scenes are elegantly choreographed, but so are the handful of sequences at the end of key episodes that reveal the show’s emotional bedrock. One such scene is set to Harmonium’s “Un musicien parmi tant d'autres” — the main characters are reveling in a bar with their Québécois pals, whom they’ve just helped beat up a rival group. As the song builds to its climactic chorus, leading man Wayne, surrounded by couples, realizes his longing for companionship. Another fight breaks out, but instead of joining in, Wayne makes his way through the slow-motion fray toward the woman he’ll propose to in the next season. (Their relationship later falls apart, but that doesn’t undercut this scene’s beauty.)

This is probably the first foreign-language album I’ve listened to in full, but all of it evokes that feeling for me — the joy of walking through the chaos to reach what’s really important. Not a bad sentiment for these times.

Bon Iver, “22, A Million”

To talk about this weird, dark and brilliant album, I need to talk about “715 - CR∑∑KS.” Everyone I’ve talked to about the third track on “22, A Million” either loves it or can’t stand it. I’m devoted to it to the extent that it was my most-played song on Spotify this year. It oscillates between tenderness and fear, between silence and explosions of sound. The lyrics are an epitome of Justin Vernon’s cryptic poetry. It’s isolated and spare and enthralling and beautiful in its own bizarre way — just like the rest of the album, which is rich with themes of persevering through the darkness in spite of the uncertainty about when the light will appear. Vernon is alone on “CR∑∑KS,” but he’s accompanied by a cacophony of his own voice. As alone as we might feel right now, there’s always someone else shouting through the darkness with us, even if we can’t see them.

#music #2020 #bon iver #harmonium #bea troxel #travis scott #lil uzi vert #sturgill simpson #fiona apple #fleet foxes #tame impala

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this-is-moony-lovegood · 4 years ago

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Ranking 5SOS’s Full Length Albums

I’m so indecisive that ranking every single 5SOS song in existence would be incredibly difficult for me. So, instead, I’ve decided to rank their songs by albums. Just the full length albums since they have so many EPs out there. These rankings are based soley on the studio versions of these songs not the live ones, which is why LIVESOS isn’t on this list. Remember, these are just my personal preferences. Just because they are ranked lower on the list doesn’t mean they’re bad songs, just that I don’t listen to them as often as I do/love them as much as the ones before them. If you want more explanations feel free to reply or leave me an ask!

5 Seconds of Summer

End Up Here

Beside You

Amnesia

Everything I Didn’t Say

Voodoo Doll

Never Be

Social Casualty

Long Way Home

Heartbreak Girl

Good Girls

Greenlight

Mrs. All American

Don’t Stop

Kiss Me Kiss Me

She Looks So Perfect

General Comments: SLSP in my opinion is just overplayed and it gets annoying for me to listen to after a while if I’m being honest. It’s a great song, but I’m probably gonna skip it if i’m listening to their entire discography. Also, I don’t hate Mrs. All American as much as everyone else. Maybe it’s because I’m American and when the album came out I was like ‘OMG MY AUSSIE BOYS ARE TALKING ABOUT AMERICAN GIRLS AHH’. But, even with the terrible Minivan line, it’s a BOP!

Sounds Good Feels Good

Castaway

Safety Pin

Outer Space/Carry On

Permanent Vacation

Catch Fire

Vapor

Invisible

San Francisco

Waste the Night

Jet Black Heart

Broken Home

She’s Kinda Hot

Girl Who Cried Wolf

Airplanes

Fly Away

Money

Hey Everybody

General Comments: I will never skip Castaway, EVER. It is AMAZING! Please don’t hate me for JBH being in the middle or Girl Who Cried Wolf being towards the bottom. They are beautiful songs, but I am more likely to listen to the top 5 or so. Also, relistening to this album really makes me beg for more Michael solos. There really isn’t enough of him or Youngblood or CALM and I just need more. I love you Luke and Cal, but GIVE ME MORE MICHAEL. And Ash. Really just give me more of everyone singing. I love you Luke Hemmings and your beautiful voice, but I miss hearing everyone frequently on the album.

Youngblood

If Walls Could Talk

Empty Wallets

Woke Up in Japan

Lie to Me

Ghost of You

Want You Back

Babylon

Youngblood

Monster Among Men

Why Won’t You Love Me

Better Man

Meet You There

Talk Fast

Valentine

Moving Along

General Comments: I know the boys love Moving Along, but I skip it frequently. I really don’t know what it is that makes me want to skip it, but I do. I’M SORRY. Valentine has grown on me the more I listen to the album, but not enough. But If Walls Could Talk and Empty Wallets have been my jams from the first time I listened to the album, and I will never not love them with all my heart. Also, Woke Up in Japan is just fun to me.

CALM

Best Years

Lover of Mine

Not In The Same Way

Old Me

Red Desert

Wildflower

Teeth

Lonely Heart

High

Thin White Lies

Easier

No Shame

General Comments: This album is a blessing! I cannot tell you how many times I’ve listened to it on repeat since it dropped at the beginning of quarantine. Best Years and Lover of Mine just make my heart swell. I cannot even describe my overwhelming appreciation for them. They are just absolutely wonderful. This whole album is absolutely wonderful. Easier is at the bottom only because the Live From the Vault ruined the original for me. I’ll still listen to the studio version, but the Live from the Vault is spectacular and will always be incredibly superior to the OG. Sorry not sorry.

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calpalirwin · 5 years ago

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Bones

A/N: I’ve always loved this idea of having a girlfriend before he joined the band and her standing by his side through all the crazy adventures. “Bones” by Maren Morris paired rather nicely with that idea. So here y’all go

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“Wait what?” you asked, your eyes going wide.

“We’re going to London to write songs! And if it works out we might even go on tour! Release a real album! Babe, we’re taking off! This is the big time!” Ashton told you again, excitedly.

“Oh…” you said, your face falling.

“Babe, c’mon! You could at least be a little excited…”

“I am. This is great, Ash. You guys are gonna be rockstars,” the words fell from your mouth, flat and dead. This wasn’t a conversation you were ready to have. You had been dating Ashton since right before he joined the band almost a year ago. You knew he and the boys were serious about taking the band as far as it could go. You knew they were getting noticed. You knew it was only a matter of time before this exact conversation was going to happen- the conversation where he leaves and you stay. You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Y/N…” Ashton said, almost begging you to be happy for him. He wasn’t ready for this conversation either, but he and the boys had been waiting for this moment for so long and it was finally here. And all he wanted was for you to be just as happy as he was.

“Ash… I don’t want to ruin this for you. But… what does this mean for us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I really like being at university, Ash. I like my classes. I like my teachers. I like my life here, Ash.”

“I know. And I’m not asking you to give that up. But, Y/N, I gotta go.”

“No, I know, just… where does that leave us, Ash?”

“Well, I don’t want to break up...”

“I don’t want to either! But London? This is gonna be really hard.”

He wrapped you in a hug. “I know, baby, I know. But, we’ll make this work?”

You nodded into him. You owed it both of yourselves to at least try. A year long relationship wasn’t something you just walked away from. “The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” you told him.

“What?” he giggled.

“It’s a saying my grandparents had,” you explained. “It’s basically saying that when the foundation of a relationship is built correctly, nothing can tear it down. Go chase your dreams. I’m on your side every step of the way.”

“The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” he smiled. The phrase was so simple, yet it made his heart soar. He had been afraid that he would have to choose between chasing his dreams and keeping the girl. He was glad you were willing to do this together, even though you both knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

~~~

Two days later, you hugged your boyfriend goodbye at the airport, tears in your eyes. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love you, too. I’ll let you know when we land. I’ll text all the time. I call every chance I get,” he spilled out promise after promise. “This is only the beginning, Y/N, you’ll see.”

“Just the beginning,” you smiled up at him. “I’ll miss you.”

“The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” he responded, kissing you one last time before he left for his adventure, leaving you behind to continue your own.

~~~

“Babe! We’re going on tour! With One Direction!” Ashton told you over Facetime a few months later.

“That’s great, Ash!” you congratulated.

“How are your classes going?”

“Ash,” you laughed, “you can’t just drop a bomb that you’re touring with One Direction and then ask me something mundane about university.”

“But you hear about my adventure all the time. I wanna hear about your adventure.”

You smiled. God, this boy was such a sweetheart. “Okay,” you said before catching him up on what you had been learning in all your classes.

After you ended your call, you checked your social media and saw a post Ashton had made. It was screenshot from his phone of his Facetime with you captioned “10,000 miles can’t change how crazy I am about this girl. #thehousedontfallwhenthebonesaregood”

~~~

“Ash!” you screamed, crashing into his body at full speed. It had been a long year, but finally, you were back in his arms. “You’re home!”

“God, I’ve missed you!” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you, wishing for time to stop.

“You stopped straightening your hair,” you smiled up at him, his curls free from the bondage of a straightener, but held back by a bandana. It was different, but it suited him.

“How long?” you asked, needing to know.

“Y/N, can we not do this now? I just want to enjoy my time with you.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to ruin this moment or fight with you. But, I need to know.”

“We’re touring again in 2 weeks. But just here, just in Australia. Bones still good?”

You nodded, “Always, Ash. God, I’m glad you’re home.”

~~~

“So, the band’s moving to LA...” Ashton started.

“Oh?” you asked. You had graduated university early. You had a job, but it was nothing serious. You had been waiting to hear about Ashton’s plans with the band, to see what next steps you would take yourself. LA sounded like as good a place as anywhere else to settle. Only, Ashton wasn’t asking you to come along.

“Yeah. We’re uh… well, we all got keys to our new places already. We don’t move until the first of next month though. So, we still got a few weeks.”

“We” was referring to you and him. So, he wasn’t asking you to move with him. He was just going to up and leave. Again.

“No,” you said, firmly, your anger making tears well up in your eyes. “No. No!”

“Baby, please…” Ashton begged, not wanting to fight with you.

“LA, Ashton?! As in California?! Moving?! NO!!!”

“Y/N, please don’t do this!”

“I’m not doing anything, Ashton! You’re the one who’s leaving! You’re always the one leaving and I’m always the one getting left behind! And now you’re moving?! To LA?!” You sat on the bed in your little apartment and wept. All you wanted for him to ask you to go with him. Why wasn’t that his first reaction?

“Y/N…” Ashton begged again, his own voice a choked sob.

“Every fuckin album!” you screamed suddenly, getting up and going to your bookshelf. You grabbed the CDs and started hurling them at Ashton. “I bought every fuckin album! Every time you leave, I listen to every goddamn song wondering which ones are about me! Every phone call I hear your voice become less Australian! I go to every show and rehearsal when you’re here so I can spend as much time as I can with you! I read every fuckin tabloid, scared shitless you found someone better like the other boys!” You paced the room as you ranted. “God, Ashton! I’m so happy for you and the band. Really, I am. I mean it with all my heart. But it doesn’t mean my heart isn’t also breaking every time we have to say goodbye.” You sat back on your bed feeling so exhausted. Why wasn’t he asking you to go with him?

“Y/N… baby, there will never be anybody else. Every song where Luke sings about the girl he misses and how he wants to be with her, that’s me singing about you. She Looks So Perfect? You, baby. That’s all you.”

“So, where’s my plane ticket and shiny diamond ring?” you half-joked, needing him to ask you so you could say yes; so he couldn’t leave you behind again.

“Wait, you’ll go to LA with me?” he asked, getting hopeful.

“Are you asking me?”

“Y/N… seriously. Would you move to LA with me if I asked.”

“Ask me and find out.”

“Move to LA with me, Y/N? Please, baby?”

“God, it took you long enough!”

“Wait, that’s why you were mad?!”

“Yes! God, Ash. You told me you were moving to LA and didn’t even ask if I wanted to come with you. Of course I got mad!”

“You,” he said, his hazel eyes shining, “are absolutely ridiculous! When I went to London, I was going to ask, but you said your life was here! How am I supposed to know that’s changed?”

“You just are, okay? You just are.”

He wrapped you in a hug. “I want you to know that I’m still mad you expect me to be able to read your mind, But, God, I’m so happy right now! We’re moving to LA!”

~~~

“Jeez, they act like you guys broke up,” you snickered over your morning coffee with Ashton.

“What?” he asked. You looked up at him and smiled. He looked so different now, so grown up. The blonde fringe, the long curls, even the bandana had faded over time. In their place had come his now short brown hair and too many tattoos to count. You were proud of him and his growth, both individually and as a band. And you were so grateful to have been by his side through it all. Even though some days, hell years even, had been hard, you’d go through it all again with him if it meant you had mornings just like this.

You passed your phone over to him so he could see the story you were reading. They had announced last week that they were releasing a new song soon, and the fans were acting like it was a reunion release. He rolled his eyes, passing you back your phone. “God, we were touring so long I felt most at home on a damn bus. So, now that we’re home for longer than a month to actually live a halfway normal life, they act like we’re reuniting? Fuckin hell…” he ranted.

“It’s alright, Ash,” you soothed. “It’s not like you guys haven’t been working. I mean, you guys are almost done with the album, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I need to talk to you about that, actually.”

“Oh?”

Another nod. “Yeah, after we release our single they want us to do a promotional tour. During which we’ll release the album, and then set up tour dates for that.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Promotional tour is March to June. Then the real tour is August to November. So… what are you doing today? Or for the rest of your life, for that matter?” he asked, sliding a small box over the table to you. His smirk was wide as he watched you open the box to reveal the ring inside. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long time now, and with the impending tour dates, now seemed as good as any other time to finally ask the question.

“Is this… Are you…” you stumbled over the words, tears filling your eyes.

He nodded. “Yep. Let’s go get married. Make this Valentine’s Day something really special.”

Your eyes went wide. “You want to get married now?! Like right now? Today?!”

He shrugged. “Why not? Look, gorgeous, you’ve been by my side through it all. Through every success and struggle, you’re the one thing that’s remained the same. I never want to stop building this life with you. So, what do you say? Be my wife? Continue making me the happiest man alive?”

You smiled. He was right. You two had weathered every storm thrown your way and made it out the other side stronger than ever. While things hadn’t always gone the way you both planned them, this life you guys had built was built right. Nothing could ever make you not love the man across from you with everything you had. And that ring looked damn good on your finger. “I say that the house don’t fall when the bones are good. Let’s go make me a Mrs!”

#bones #ashton irwin #ashton blurb #5SOS #galcal irwin

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